How To Succeed In The Law -- Using This One Weird Trick!

In-house columnist Mark Herrmann offers a tip for succeeding in the legal profession.

Don’t you love all the things that pop up on the web inviting you to click through to learn “one weird trick” to lose your belly fat, or boost your credit score, or cure your diabetes?

I’ve never clicked through one of those things, but the enticements must work: Why would there be so many ads if people weren’t clicking through like maniacs to learn these weird tricks?

I’m here to prove that I’m just as scummy as the other clowns trying to attract clicks. Today, I offer you “one weird trick” to succeed in the practice of law. (Yeah, yeah: I’m scummy. But look at you! You just clicked through to continue reading this drivel. Aren’t you ashamed?)

What’s my weird trick for success?

Maybe it’s not so weird: When asked to answer a question, pursue the issue relentlessly and then state as definitive an answer as possible.

What prompted me to write this column?

A lawyer (not necessarily working at my joint) had to commit that one particular subsidiary of a company would transfer a fairly large sum of foreign currency on a certain date. The lawyer notified the cash management people of the upcoming need to transfer funds. The cash management people promptly roped in the treasury people, who roped in the finance people, who roped in the tax people, all of whom then caucused about the ability to have the business transfer the funds on the required date.

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After suffering through multiple phone calls, the lawyer put the question to the group by email: “Are you now certain that we can make the required transfer on the specified date? I must sign the contract, and I’m not comfortable signing until you confirm that we can pay what’s due.”

The responses came flooding it: “We can probably make the payment.” “Assuming everything else works correctly, it’s quite likely we can make the payment.” “I think the date you propose is probably okay.” “Unless something holds up the currency exchange, we should be good.”

Do these responses mean that the lawyer can or cannot sign the document? The lawyer surely doesn’t know (and isn’t responsible for) the financial details of getting the right money into the right subsidiary on the right day. Why do the people who actually know (and handle) those details refuse to give a definitive answer to a question?

Because everyone’s cowardly. Nobody wants to figure out an answer, state the answer, and then take responsibility for it. If you do that, then you could possibly be wrong. It’s much safer, thinks the usual poltroon, to give a mushy answer. That permits you to disclaim your advice if it proves wrong. (“I didn’t say that was the answer! I said that was probably the answer, and that I was still thinking about it! Don’t blame me!”)

You’re right: Mushiness does permit you to disclaim what you’ve said. The qualified response hedges your risk.

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But the qualified response also guarantees that you’ll never impress anyone with the quality of your work. So your cowardice means that you won’t get full credit if you turn out to have been right.

I understand the psychological comfort you get from never saying anything definitive. (I never studied for tests when I was in high school. In retrospect, I’m pretty sure that this was a psychological hedge: If, without having studied, I got an A on a test, I could be satisfied. If I got a B, I could always tell myself that I could’ve gotten an A if I’d only bothered to study. I avoided the mental anguish associated with knowing that I’d tried my hardest and still not succeeded.)

The cowards (to my eye, most of humanity) never moved out of that high school mindset.

They inhabit the corporate world in the businesses; the human resources, finance, and IT departments; and the rest of the joint. They fill the law departments and compliance groups.

The cravens fill the halls of law firms, too: “I haven’t yet polished this draft brief, but I thought you’d like to see where I was heading.” “I haven’t yet finished my research, but here are two cases that you can read for yourself and get a sense of what the law seems to be.” “I haven’t yet come to a final conclusion, but my preliminary feeling is that we’re okay.”

What are you saying? Eventually, someone must speak an answer and stand by it. If you — who actually read the primary source materials and are at the helm of the project — can’t give a definitive answer, who can? Why should the partner, or the client, or your boss — who hasn’t read as much as you have or put as much time into the project — have to take your mealy-mouthed, weasel-worded, half-answer and turn it into a definitive “yes”?

You were asked to answer the question. So do.

I’m not crazy, of course. Some answers can be phrased only in probabilities; some things are truly uncertain. In those situations, think as hard as you’re able to, eliminate as much uncertainty as possible, and then state as definitive an answer as reasonably possible.

But state an answer. In clear, unambiguous terms, that don’t include the psychological hedge that you intend to think more tomorrow and will of course reverse your conclusion if that’s necessary to cover your hide.

Your conclusion may be right or wrong.

If it’s right; you win. If it’s wrong, you lose. But if it’s hedged, you lose before you get out of the blocks: You cause the important person to think there’s no reason to ask for your advice, and you force the important person to be definitive on his or her own.

If at all possible, don’t hedge. That’s one not-so-weird trick to advance your career.


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.