Biglaw

We Need To Be More Open As A Profession

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“Transparent” is applied in all kinds of settings, being thrown around like a Frisbee (yes, I am dating myself), and as the desired “new normal” in all kinds of settings, including maybe even ours.

So here’s to transparency within our profession. Addiction of whatever kind, depression, stress, all of them have long been kicked under the rug. It’s always been a badge of shame to be transparent and candid about whether you have an issue or a colleague has an issue. It’s always been something not even whispered about, let alone lent itself to any candor. It’s been a code of silence. But now, ever so slowly, I think those issues are starting to be discussed. It’s time to be open and forthright about those issues that affect more than one quarter of our colleagues. That number is probably low because I think stigma attaches to candor.

Brian Cuban, an ATL columnist, has been very upfront with his struggles against addiction and depression. Just type his name in the ATL search box and a bunch of his columns pop up. Last year, he shared the story of Arizona lawyer Chad Anderson who refused to be anonymous about his battle with alcoholism.  

Our mental health and substance abuse issues can no longer be ignored. If they exist in Biglaw, you can bet they’re in smaller size firms and solos. How many lawyers have prescriptions for anxiety meds, for sleeping aids, for anti-depressants, and whatever else might be prescribed?

This is not a problem that just other people have; this is a problem that we have and the more transparent we are, the better off we will be, in serving our clients, our firms, and I think most importantly (heresy here) ourselves. 

We need more lawyers like Steven Wall, a Biglaw partner, who talked about his struggle with alcoholism. Wall nails it when he says that law firms of whatever size depends upon their human capital to grow and flourish and that the wellness of lawyers and support staff is critical to success. Firms are not books of business; they are the human capital that generates and services the business.

As a number of ATL columnists, including me, have pointed out, suicides among lawyers are not going down, but up. The stress and anxiety of the need to do everything perfectly, at least in that lawyer’s mind and others, creates a toxic environment for that lawyer. We practice law; we don’t perfect it, and I think that gets lost in the shuffle of billable hours, networking, pro bono and the myriad other tasks we do. And that doesn’t even take into account personal lives (gee, do we have them?), family matters, raising kids, perhaps taking care of elderly parents and/or adult kids, stressors of a different sort but equally valid and present.

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Lawyers who are no longer practicing law, not retired but doing something else, identify themselves as “recovering lawyers.” Perhaps there’s something to that, and not just in the mental health/substance abuse sense.

So much of our identity is cloaked in our professional image and reputation.  What if we weren’t lawyers anymore? Then what would we be? We would be people, spouses, parents, children, friends, volunteers, whatever other labels we choose. It wouldn’t be just about being lawyers. It would be about being people who happen to make their livings as lawyers. But for so many of us, being a lawyer is what we are all about and there’s no room for anything else, or, in many cases, for anyone else. A pop quiz: how would you describe yourself if not as a lawyer?

One of the best benefits of writing this column is the emails from thoughtful readers who contribute to my thinking, change it, rearrange it. One reader correctly pointed out that it’s not just perfectionism that creates stress and anxiety for lawyers, it’s the ambiguity that by definition is baked into what we do. We don’t know how a judge is going to rule, we don’t know if a judgment will be overturned on appeal, we don’t know how a jury is going to look at the evidence, the witnesses, even the lawyers, we can’t predict what may happen, we don’t know how a client will react. All of these unpredictables create ambiguity, create anxiety, create stress.  

Being a lawyer requires a tolerance for ambiguity, which is something no one talks about while in law school. No one talks about the daily issues of practice. Yes, there are legal clinics in law school, but no one talks about how difficult practice is and how to cope with it. Billing, collecting, networking, doing the work, relationships (or lack thereof) with opposing counsel, managing staff, running the office and so on, a far from exhaustive list.

The reader also noted that while it may be Biglaw mental health/suicides that garner attention, it’s not just Biglaw. Solos kill themselves, ditto lawyers in small and/or medium-sized firms. No size firm has a lock on depression and despair.   

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Another point the reader made: we don’t know the true reasons why lawyers kill themselves, any more than we know why any person commits suicide, but we do know that lawyers kill themselves. We must acknowledge substance abuse and mental health issues and do what we can to help save the lives of our colleagues whose anguish can become too much to bear.  

My generation of lawyers may be dinosaurs, but none of us, at whatever stage we are in our practices, should be ostriches. 

old lady lawyer elderly woman grandmother grandma laptop computerJill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for more than 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. 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 dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at oldladylawyer@gmail.com.

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