I know: My headline is an old, bad joke.
It gets even worse: This column isn’t about money.
I recently attended a corporate program focused on “trust” — what it is, how to build it, and how to repair it once it’s broken.
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The speakers started by explaining the elements of trust. The first element was “reliability.”
I worked for 25 years at law firms. For me, “reliability” would have been the first element of trust. And the second element. And the third. And all the rest of ’em. And we could then stop the conversation.
That’s what brought the old, bad joke to mind: Reliability may not be everything — but it’s sure way ahead of whatever’s in second place.
Be reliable.
That makes me trust you.
Don’t be reliable, and we’re done. I’ll never use you again.
I gotta get the brief out the door. If you say you’ll get a draft to me on Tuesday, I expect a draft on Tuesday. And the draft has to be more or less ready to go. If you don’t deliver projects (1) on time and (2) in reasonably good shape, we’re through.
If you do deliver things on time and right, I’ll work with you again and again and again.
That’s the way of law firms.
End of story.
Corporations, it seems, are different.
(Maybe it’s not just corporations. Maybe the whole world is different, and it’s law firms that are the outliers. But — like a fish asking, “What water?” — when you grow up in a law firm, you never notice that the law firm environment is odd.)
Trust, it turns out, has four (!) elements. “Reliability” is the first.
“Acceptance” is second. This means accepting people for who they are. It’s the distinction, I suppose, between, “He’s a jerk,” and, “He’s not performing.” One criticizes the person; the other, the performance.
At law firms, I don’t think people pay much attention to this. If someone promises a brief on Tuesday and doesn’t deliver it, he could be a jerk, or not performing, or anything else. It doesn’t matter; I’ll never work with him again.
The third element of trust is “openness.” You must clarify what you expect and provide feedback on how things are going. You should also relate how you feel, what you believe, and your areas of vulnerability.
At law firms, a few partners are good at the first aspects of “openness.” They know that they receive better work if they clarify what they expect, and (at least for associates who are reliable and therefore worth the effort) they provide feedback.
But, when it comes to the broader dimensions of openness — revealing your own vulnerabilities — law firm partners turn into Scrooge: “Bah, humbug! Who cares how I feel? Just get me the brief on time.”
Finally, “congruence.” (Maybe law firms don’t care about this because they don’t understand it.) The speakers at my program defined “congruence” as “the knowledge that what you say is on track with what you believe, what you feel is the truth, and what you do.” (Maybe law firms don’t care about this because they still don’t understand it.) You should be straightforward and honest, saying what is true, even if it is unpleasant.
Law firm partners are often pretty good about saying things that are unpleasant. (Some would say they specialize in this.) But, long ago, a more-senior partner suggested that I should sugarcoat things: “Don’t tell people that they’re mediocre! Tell ’em all that they’re great! If you tell people they’re great, they’ll run through brick walls for you! If you tell people they’re average, they’ll be discouraged and won’t work very hard.”
Well, yeah.
But they won’t know the truth.
So maybe some partners believe in congruence and some don’t.
Those are the four aspects of trust and how law firm life differs from corporate life. But there’s one other thing that’s worth considering.
Here’s an interesting thought experiment on reliability: Consider how reliable you are in three different environments — at work, at home, and to yourself. Rate yourself on a score of one to ten on your reliability in each area (with ten being the highest).
If you’re succeeding in the law, you score yourself a “10” on reliability at work: If you say you’ll do something, you do it. Period.
But perhaps you worry less about being reliable to friends, or family, or commitments you make to yourself, because it seems that the stakes are lower. (You promise your daughter that you’ll be home in time for her birthday party. Are you still a “10”?)
Maybe you’re equally reliable in all aspects of your life. But maybe not.
You always hurt those most important to you.
Mark Herrmann spent 17 years as a partner at a leading international law firm and is now responsible for litigation and employment matters at a large international company. 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 [email protected].