Law Firm Receptions: The Creed Revealed

-- By WookJinChung - 13 Mar 2015

Destiny of “pawning” license.

The law school has multiple personalities, and like a living person, it also “splits,” as Lawrence Joseph would describe. During the orientation, we are congratulated by our predecessors to have made it this far where we will learn to develop the right minds and tools to tackle critical issues of today--injustice of inequalities. Six months later, a long line-up of law firm receptions reminds us that it is time to familiarize ourselves with the elite names--the likes of Wachtel and Cravath. This systematic “split” reflects, shapes, and reinforces our conflicted attitudes toward working at a big law firm.

Eben Moglen’s argument against “pawning” license was timely, alarming, liberating, and yet discomforting. Sense of doubt in our willingness to resist the temptation lingers. Attempts to rationally define, assess, and prioritize various personal interests do not give us better guidance. The odds against “pawning” license remain insurmountable.

Against or in favor of? Some light linguistic editing should occur, mostly for missing articles, of course. But "odds [for or against] pawning the license remain" is the only idiomatic way.

Consistently, over 70% of us end up at large firms. Returning back from summer internships, most of us will have justified ourselves one way or the other.

What does "justified" mean here?

If it is so destined, should we stop the inquiry just here?

What is "destined"? You cannot seriously mean that your life is destined to be arranged one way or another by anything or anyone other than you.

Piercing the veil.

The stakes of “pawning” license--practicing law at a big law firm--are high; it defines who we are.

Nonsense. It's a job.

We question ourselves, seek alternatives, or even “split” personalities to accommodate the reality. Ironically, we know very little about the object itself, namely the practicing of law at a big law firm. Recognizing certain characteristics of an object is different from understanding the object. Corporate nature of the work, starting salary of $160,000, or long hours are important aspects of the object, but it does not reveal the essence of practicing law at big firms. How are we to know, and what are they?

What is the "essence" of a job that isn't the wages, hours, and conditions of employment? Having a law practice may involve many other elements, but this is not having a practice, it's pawning the license for a job.

The object can be better felt by asking the meanings of common rituals and institutional habits--why do table manners exist? At law firm receptions, we often fail to see through the veiled meanings of the simple words and phrases lawyers use to describe their practice of law--dedicated client service, great firm culture, passion for the work--only to name three. The phrases sound rhetorical, harmless, and at worst decorative. But are they really?

(1) Client Service.

What does dedicated client service mean? When asked, the common response is: “putting client’s interest first.” However, this is a mere rephrase, and does not describe or explain it. The three-year experience at a management consulting firm founded by Chicago lawyers tells me that it is not entirely about performing to one’s best ability or avoiding moral hazard such as padding billable hours, but about the willingness to compromise when one’s intellectual integrity or personal values collide with client demands. The relationship is inherently asymmetric. Clients usually have a clear goal and the entire firm is hired to make that goal happen. While trusted advisors are obligated to dissent, work horse associates are rarely given the full picture, and just by this fact, it is difficult to overcome the push-backs of the firm’s seniors who are heavily invested to please clients. It is really not the long hours that is draining, but the lack of control and power over one’s work. Therefore, “client service” becomes a sacred phrase for lawyers, consultants, and the likes; it is a medal of honor conferred in return for the sacrifice.

(2) The “fun” factor.

Mergers & Acquisitions can be an interesting and potentially meaningful topic to work on. However, when you find nearly all lawyers at firm receptions say it is fun, you sense that something is not quite right. Interestingly, this “fun” factor is usually brought up soon after some comments on commitment and sacrifice required in the profession. It goes something like this: “you really have to be passionate about the work. I mean people are often working around the clock and passing up their weekends. But you know, it is lot of fun.” Unless there is a separate legal definition for the word “fun,” it is a misnomer. What he or she is really revealing to you is that the job derives meaning from a sense of achievement in finalizing deals or a perverse satisfaction of hustling 90 hours a week. Working with personable colleagues or being assigned of interesting case may make the process less painful, but the “fun” factor certainly is not what drives lawyers to practice law at large law firms.

(3) Cultural fit.

“Culture” is another theme ubiquitously found at firm receptions. Collegiality, diversity, and work-life balance are popular topics under this theme. However, at the core, lies the issue of resource planning--how firms structure its hierarchy and the implicit rules of climbing the hierarchy. The consulting firm that I worked for prided on its flat hierarchy and enabling mechanisms such as upward feedback and obligation to dissent to seniors. Regardless of these well marketed devices, it was clear to everyone that the most important criteria that played in partner selection, other than the strength of one’s client platform, was winning the love of the decision makers--finding someone who will pound the table for you no matter what. Playing politics is an ample ground for bias and favoritism. While not discussed openly at firm receptions, it touches upon the thorny issue of why non-white male or female making an equity partner at big law firms is disproportionately difficult.

Takeaways.

What is the value of the attempt to pierce the veil of large waste management structures where the essence, in Eben Moglen’s words, is sweeping the vomit of capitalism? First, it reveals that our conflicted attitudes toward practicing law at large law firms are not simply the result of personality “split.” It also stems from our limited understanding of the object itself. Secondly, over 70% of CLS students will “pawn” license, and having a point of reference to understand the underlying workings of law firms will be valuable whether one decides to climb up the ladder or to reclaim the license from the pawnshop.

I'm not sure I know what the essay's core idea is. There are many well-expressed paragraphs, but what in the end was the central idea the essay wanted the reader to take away? (The "takeaways" are that student conflicts about career choices result from absence of information, both "big picture" counseling on career paths rather than jobs, and clear factual understanding about what law firm work actually is for young lawyers. While true enough, in my opinion, these don't seem much to take away from the draft.) I think the best route to improvement is editing for focus: define the essay's main point succinctly, place that in the introduction, and use what you have written in this draft to develop the idea initially presented, to the point where the reader can explore for herself new implications, presented, or at least suggested, in the conclusion.