Although I am not a big reader of science fiction books I do love books about time travel. Probably my favorite is Jack Finney’s Time and Again (affiliate link).
If you haven’t read it, do so. Not only is it a great diversion from advance sheets, cases, and the dreary things that lawyers have to read (including, but not limited to opposing counsel’s pleadings and motions, as well as deposition transcripts and the like), it’s a terrific story. I know; it was published in the “dark ages” (1970) for you millennials. If you have any suggestions about time travel books of more current vintage, please share, and I’ll add them to my ever-growing Kindle wish list.
Why do I mention time travel? My old lady lawyer recruiter friend has come up with another brilliant (at least I think it’s brilliant and it’s my column) topic.
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Decades ago, we were the baby lawyers, the ones being interviewed for our first gigs as lawyers. Flash forward twenty years from then and we’re the ones conducting the interviews. Flash forward another ten years (give or take some years) and those of us seeking work are now once again in the interview chairs, but being interviewed by lawyers a generation or more younger.
That is a very weird experience for those of my colleagues who have gone through it. Actually, it’s weird from both sides of the desk. (Ever notice how interview chairs are lower than the desk chair?) Bravo to those who conduct interviews at a small table or even at a hulking conference room table where, at least, interviewer and interviewee are at equal heights. (There’s nothing worse than feeling like Lily Tomlin’s Edith Ann in an interview.)
For those of us who remember our interviews all those years ago, they were always in a lawyer’s office filed with paper and law books (remember those?) The lawyer(s) interviewing us wore suits and ties. We did, too. In those days, women wore “power” suits with those very stupid string ties or a variation of same.
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We usually carried briefcases that symbolized that we had passed the bar and were now ready to take our places among those already in practice. Other indicia of a lawyer’s office back in dinosaur days: dictating equipment, various plaques signaling graduations, bar admissions, and the like, and a legal assistant aka legal secretary, who usually sat just outside the attorney’s office, well within hollering distance. No typewriter sullied the lawyer’s office. Desktops and laptops were yet to come, especially in a partner’s office.
Flash forward twenty years or so, maybe less, maybe more. Now we were the ones doing the hiring, interviewing candidates that we thought would be good fits for our in-house department or firm, whatever the size. Twenty years ago, we were just starting to see the introduction of “business casual” dress, and then only on Fridays. Wearing jeans was still reserved pretty much for the weekends in the office. The candidates we saw were still pretty much the same as the way we had been twenty years before. It was before the crushing debt load, before the “Great Recession,” when legal jobs were still plentiful and career paths were more or less evident, and before much of the technological advances such as smartphones, tablets, and other multi-tasking devices. Maybe there was a desktop, maybe not.
The interviewee would still capture most, if not all, of the interviewer’s attention, if the interviewer would only stop talking long enough about himself/herself to find out something of what made the candidate tick. While the concept of business development was there, it wasn’t the “what have you done for me lately” culture that now permeates our profession.
Those of us dinosaurs who want to work, who need to work, whatever the reason, are back in the same chairs we were forty years ago, but it’s a whole different world. It’s no longer so much about what kind of lawyer you are, but the book of business you bring with you. It’s no longer suits and ties and “dress for success” interviewing, but trying to get the interviewer to look you in the eye, to engage you in a conversation without glancing at her smart phone, social media or email during the interview.
Interviewing skills are critical and many millennials are very uncomfortable about conversations, preferring to text and/or email. Sherry Turkle’s book, Reclaiming Conversation (affiliate link), talks about exactly that: how to reclaim conversation, the art of which seems to be hard for millennials to do in this digital age.
Professionals don’t want to have their services turn into mere commodities (sound familiar?) and the best way to do that is to engage, to have face to face conversations, or, failing that, at least phone calls, rather than relying on emails and texts that can be easily misunderstood and discoverable. Turkle says that the best way to avoid turning yourself into a commodity is to offer a relationship, but that takes conversation. Training in conversation should be the first training received in the workplace, but it isn’t. She says that young lawyers don’t understand the value of presence and she’s spot on.
So, how do you know if the dinosaur candidate will be a good fit for the job? You talk, you find out about the candidate’s strengths and weaknesses, you look the candidate in the eye, you shake the candidate’s hand. You talk about what you’re looking for and observe body language. Learn how to have a conversation that is truly open-ended. Learn how to conduct an interview that provides two-way information for both you and the candidate. Sometimes, dinosaur candidates will take themselves out of the running because they know it’s not the right fit, and they have the maturity and judgment to recognize that. That’s a time-saver and face-saver for both of you.
Most importantly, the millennial interviewer must be present by extending the simple courtesy of fully engaging with the candidate. Ditch the smart phone, social media and email. They’ll still be there when the interview is over. Unfortunately.
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 at [email protected].