I’ve been thinking about time and professions lately, from a few perspectives. A NYLJ article last week told of a new focus on “lateral” hiring by law firms, and a “weakened commitment to the traditional seven- or eight-year path from first-year associate to partner.” A couple days ago, Scheherazade Fowler wondered “why law firms hire first year lawyers anyway. Doesn’t it make more sense just to hire laterals?” And, Carolyn Elephant pointed today to another NYLJ piece that explored the pitfalls of going solo late in one’s career.
These reports reminded me of my frustrating search for new legal employment in 1979, only two years out of my top-rated law school. To my surprise, I was told in a number of nice ways “Gee, you’ve been out of school too long. There’s no way to fit you in our firm’s structure.”
What a very strange profession, I thought — they can’t even tailor their needs to fit the wonderful opportunity of getting me. It seems that law firm partners had no people skills [yes, Dennis, there was and is a management training deficit!]. And, junior lawyers lived in fear that someone would take “their” partnership spot.
It seems funny now, but I ended up taking a 50% cut in salary when I did leave the Government briefly in 1980 — neophyte pay, although I was expected to produce like an expert. Indeed, I had specifically, emphatically told the hiring partner who was wooing me, “I am not a workaholic and won’t become one.” My first day on the new job, in a new city, the same partner told me, “Since you’re new, you’ll probably have to work seven days a week for the first couple of months.” I did not stay long, as I was quickly reminded of all the good things about the FTC. One Commission colleague-wag noted “You’re the only guy I know who winters in Buffalo and summers in D.C.”
Similarly, I can recall thinking about employment options when I was 8 to 10 years out of school, and hitting a similar wall. My (nonlawyer) relatives would say, “You’ve got so much experience, you should find a job easily.” My reply made no sense to them, and they thought I was just a defeatist, as I’d try to explain, “No, I’m too expensive to hire at this point, since I’m bringing no clients (having been in government service), and I was not famous or a Big Shot.” Forget awards and achievements, “we’ve got a drawer filled with FTC antitrust resumes,” the head-hunters told me.
I have no idea what the next legal hiring trend will be, but I’m fairly certain that there is a lot more flexibility now — a lot more variety — which means that, no matter their career stage, individual lawyers have options. Firms will always do what they think is in their overall financial interest. (In the boom years, when corporate clients were happy to pay for new-associate billables, neophytes were cash cows in training. At a time when clients insist on instant expertise and efficiency, laterals make more sense.) But, the good news is that firms — from the biggest to the smallest — have very different perspectives on client satisfaction, profit maximization, and growth strategies. It’s odd that such an ancient profession has such a short memory. Like the Reign of the Billable Hour, the newbie-to-partner paradigm is only a few decades old, not venerable or set in stone. Expecting continuity is folly. More than ever, the individual lawyer with a bit of courage, a realistic timetable, and modest financial demands, can shape a career that fits his or her needs. [Of course, I’m thrilled to be in retirement status, just watching it unfold.]