Old Lady Lawyer: We’re All Salespeople

The new normal: we are all selling ourselves.

If you have never read the play or seen the movie or TV production of Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman, you must. I think it’s the best American play of the 20th Century, an opinion shared by millions of others, who are far more qualified to comment on its merits than I am. Written and produced after World War II, it tells the story of Willie Loman, a drummer (not the musical kind, but a traveling salesman) and his family. I think there’s a lesson in the play for everyone who works, at whatever job, at whatever level, and especially for lawyers, who used to think (count me in that group) that we didn’t have to sell ourselves or our services.

In the play, the central character, Willie Loman is an over-60 salesman, whom the company thinks no longer has what it takes to do his job. He hasn’t made his numbers, so, no surprise, he loses his job. To add insult to injury, he’s considered too old for the gig. After he’s fired, he talks with Charley, his long-time neighbor, who offers Willie money to tide him over. What Charley tells him is what every person who sells has to understand: “the only thing you got in this world is what you can sell. And the funny thing is that you’re a salesman, and you don’t know it.” If lawyers didn’t know that previously, they do now.

The dynamics of Willie’s job loss and his relationships with his two sons and his wife form the heart of the play. There’s no spoiler alert here. I leave it to you to read it or see it in some medium.

As lawyers, we know how to sell the client’s position in whatever the circumstance, be it in a negotiation, litigation, settlement conference or whatever other form this particular form of selling might take. Selling is persuasion, convincing whomever of the correctness of the position being advocated.

However, until the last few years, I never considered myself as a salesperson. I am a lawyer, a professional, a fill in the blank. But, in reality, as the proliferation of various networking groups attests, we’re all salespeople now. We’re selling ourselves and our services. For those of us who came of professional age in previous generations, the shock to our systems has been profound.

From blogging to tweeting to Facebooking to all the various other forms of social media, including, but not limited to, LinkedIn, we older lawyers are, in most cases, finding it hard to adjust to this new selling reality. We spent years building relationships by going to bar association events, being on various bar association committees, publishing in bar association magazines, and other similar activities. Lawyers got business through those relationships, through referrals often forged over years of participation in bar organizations, not advertising (and blogging and tweeting didn’t even exist in those days).

While that model is not dead, some would say it’s not looking very robust as other sales channels have arisen to take its place. See Avvo, Yelp, and the like. Nowadays, anyone looking for legal help can type in various terms into the search engine of choice and be confronted with a plethora of attorney choices, not necessarily the right fit for the particular matter, but choices, nonetheless, which the consumer must now winnow down. Millennials, both as lawyers and potential clients, are much more adept at these sales channels.

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What does Death of a Salesman have to do with being a lawyer? Everything. We are all salespeople, whether we like to admit it or not. Every time we go to an event and pass out business cards, we’re selling. Every time we go to a networking event and give an “elevator speech” in thirty seconds or less (the time it takes in to ride in an elevator and make your pitch), we’re selling. Every time we meet with a prospective client, we’re selling. Every time we’ve gotten a new piece of business from a current client, we’ve sold the client that we are the right lawyer at the right time for the new matter. Every time we write an article, a web post, a blog, a chapter in a book (or the entire book), every time we speak to a group, we’re on display. We’re selling ourselves.

Selling for some of us does not come naturally; it’s hard, especially if you’re an introvert (raise your hand), never had a marketing class (what was that?) either in undergrad or law school (does any law school offer a marketing class?) or just feel uncomfortable asking for business. It’s an art that we all have to learn. Some of us learn more quickly than others; some of us are natural salespeople; some of us aren’t.

What are we selling? Our practice areas, our knowledge/expertise in a particular area, our firm, or ourselves? Shouldn’t it be all of those?  Should the first thing be us as individuals, rather than the other factors? In every interview I’ve read with general counsels who talk about who they hire and why, there’s agreement that they hire a particular lawyer, regardless of the pedigree (or not) of the firm. Yes, the knowledge and expertise are critical, but so is the relationship. So, isn’t selling all about relationships, about making a connection that could lead to business? It’s been said that all vendors (and that includes us) never know where the next piece of business may come from.  So, it’s also about patience.  Cultivating relationships that lead to business take time.

Susan Cain points out in her book Quiet (affiliate link), which I recommend to all who consider themselves introverts and who find it hard to sell themselves, that “One genuine new relationship is worth more than a fistful of business cards.” That’s the goal, one genuine new relationship at a time, not how many business cards you can add to your contacts list. Lawyering is not a numbers game. All of us, at whatever stage and age, need to be mindful of that.


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Jill Switzer is closing in on 40 (not a typo) years as a active member of the State Bar of California. Yes, folks, California, that state west of the Sierra Nevada, which everyone likes to diss. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see old lawyers, young lawyers, and those in-between interact — it’s not always pretty. You can reach her by email atoldladylawyer@gmail.com.