The Perils Of Publishing

In-house columnist Mark Herrmann uses Hitler jokes to demonstrate the perils of writing for a mass audience.

First, the background: My father — along with his sister, his parents, and one aunt — escaped from Vienna in September 1938, about six months after the Anschluss. The remains of my other paternal relatives rest among the ashes that lie in the shadows of the crematoria at Birkenau.

Now, the story: A couple of years ago, I was flying out of Dusseldorf on Lufthansa. The flight attendant smiled and greeted me:

“Guten tag, Herr Herrmann . . . ”

“I’m sorry; I speak only English.”

“Oh! My fault! I should have checked the manifest. I just assumed from your name that you were German.”

“That makes sense. My father was actually born in Vienna.”

“That’s a beautiful city. Do you get back there often?”

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“No. In fact, I’ve been there only once in my life.”

“That’s odd. Don’t you visit your family there?”

Think about that for a minute.

How, I wondered, can I possibly answer that question, yet still be served peanuts for the rest of this flight? Fortunately, a flash of inspiration:

“No. No one lives there anymore.”

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Peanuts to my heart’s content!

Finally, the point of this column (such as it is): How can I write a column at Above the Law that attracts readers? It plainly needs a catchy title. Without that, no one will click through. (Frankly, I don’t think I’ve done very well today. “Anatomy Of A Column,” maybe? Nah – too navel-gazing. “The Perils Of Publishing”? Broader appeal, maybe, but it still isn’t great. I could say something outrageous about the Holocaust and probably attract more eyeballs, but even I won’t stoop that low.)

Then, I must rely on Lat (or whoever’s editing my column that day) to create a pithy two-sentence description of what I’ve written, so that folks will click through when my piece no long appears at the top of the first page of the website. (Fortunately, Lat is the master of that tactic; I’m in good hands.)

Third, I need something relatively interesting in the opening paragraph of the column. Dead relatives ain’t a bad place to start.

Next, I need a twist. Maybe I’ll bring the reader down — way down — in an opening paragraph that’s both tragic and as close to poetry as my poor skills can approximate: “among the ashes that lie in the shadows of the crematoria . . . .” And I’ll use that tragedy as a springboard to an (arguably) amusing anecdote. (Hitler jokes! It’s just Mel Brooks and me.)

Then there’s the second-guessing: Should I say “that lie in” or “lying in”? Is it “shadow” or “shadows”? How much poetic license can I invoke? We don’t really have a clue whether the relatives I never met were shot or gassed or died some other way. We certainly don’t know which particular concentration camp they were shipped off to. Am I free to pick a name? (My conscience says yes, for the sake of the story.) If so, which name shall I pick? (I’m going for Birkenau — famous enough to be known, but obscure enough that it has the ring of truthiness to it.)

Then there’s the third-guessing: I named “Lufthansa” in this column. Is Lufthansa a client of my firm’s? If so, will Lufthansa be offended by this reference? One of its flight attendants, trying to be friendly, arguably misstepped; that doesn’t seem like I’m being too critical. But I’m mentioning the airline in a story that refers to the Holocaust; is that too aggressive? Frankly, I’m not at all sure; I may take grief for having written this.

Just in case:

Lufthansa: You’re a great airline! I wouldn’t be flying you if you weren’t great! And the Dusseldorf flight took off and landed on time, and there was no turbulence at all. And the flight attendant was young; I don’t really blame her for what she said. And the peanuts were great! None better!

Rather than run the risk of offending a client (or potential client), can I write the story without naming the airline? No. The story is better if I’m on an airline that has a Germanic name. The story just isn’t as good if I’m flying Air France. (Actually, these days, the story might work just as well on Air France.)

(Shoot! I just took the risk of offending Air France! Is it a client? C’mon, Air France: I wasn’t insulting your airline; I was insulting your country.)

(Shoot! The whole damn country will come after me now! Our Paris office will be up in arms! Am I putting my bonus on the line for having written this silly column?)

See how writing these columns is trickier than you might think?

I work extraordinarily hard to avoid offending clients (or potential clients) in my columns. Given the size of my employer, that means that I strive to avoid offending any law firm — or, indeed, any corporation or individual — in the world. That’s a mighty tall order.

Not only that: I occasionally take flak for things that I didn’t write. I’ve been blamed for things that you, dear readers, have posted in the comments! You name some law firm in the comments; some partner at that firm reads the comment and is offended by what you (not me!) wrote; and the partner then complains to one of my co-workers — the law firm’s insurance broker.

Why, the broker asks, do I offend clients? Am I crazy? What’s the upside of writing at Above the Law?

That’s actually not a bad question.

So do me a favor here: Call your broker and tell him (or her) that you like my columns and respect the broker even more for associating with the likes of me. Better yet: If you’re not a client, call your local broker and ask him to chat with you about your law firm’s insurance needs. You don’t have to hire the guy; just meet him. At that point, it’s up to him to impress you.

I don’t need my joint to feel a lot of love, but just a touch would take the treachery out of this whole silly experience.

(Oh, yes: Is this column purely an advertisement, or does it have anything to do with practicing law? I guess I’m making two points. First: If you’re going to publish an article — or blog, or tweet, or whatever — and you work at a large firm or corporation, be extraordinarily careful about what you write; these things can (and do) come back to bite you. Second: Although I’m not really sure my column will achieve this end, perhaps one or two readers will think more carefully about the writing craft when they next put fingers to keyboard to compose a brief.)

Next week, back to our regularly scheduled programming.


Mark Herrmann is the Chief Counsel – Litigation and Global Chief Compliance Officer at Aon, the world’s leading provider of risk management services, insurance and reinsurance brokerage, and human capital and management consulting. He is the author of The Curmudgeon’s Guide to Practicing Law and Inside Straight: Advice About Lawyering, In-House And Out, That Only The Internet Could Provide (affiliate links). You can reach him by email at inhouse@abovethelaw.com.