PhilaLawyer

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[Ed. Note: The following is from the mind of our good friend PhilaLawyer.  It’s simply too amusing, intense and culturally relevant to just link to, so here it is in full.  Don’t forget to buy his book: Happy Hour Is for Amateurs.  A must-read for every Bitter Lawyer.  And listen to his weekly radio show/podcast with Dr. Rob: Here’s What to Think.]

“It takes two to lie. One to lie and one to listen.” – Homer Simpson

Unless you’ve been in a coma, you’ve probably seen some snippet of the Senate grilling of Goldman Sachs’ executives.  I won’t bother characterizing that embarrassment here.

My earlier post on Twitter suffices: ”The Goldman Senate Hearings. For the non-red light district crowd who’d otherwise never see a prostitute argue with a bookie.”

But while viewing that awful spectacle—watching a hopelessly out-of-her-depth lifetime government employee like Clare McCaskill attempt to cross examine a guy like Lloyd Blankfein on reconciliation of derivatives—an interesting question hit me.

Insider trading is rampant.  Everyone knows that.  A number of economists and policy wonks have suggested in the past the market might be more transparent if we admitted that fact and legalized the practice.  In that same vein of thinking—in light of the obvious fact that humans will always commit frauds, more frequently the more money’s in play—I have to ask: Why not allow bankers to lie to one another?

Look at every disastrous policy or business decision creating the Great Recession, and you’ll find a common element: Lopsided informational asymmetries.  The Goldman case is a perfect example.  Paulson and Goldman knew something ACA probably didn’t.  IKB apparently knew nothing and took what it heard from the other side of the deal as fact.  That, or it thought it knew better than everyone else involved, and it couldn’t have been more incorrect.

Either way, the reason IKB got taken was a simple lack of due diligence.  The company was lazy with its research—it assumed too much based on suspect sources or simply didn’t analyze enough.  But how do you cure that problem?  We can’t regulate companies to competence and legislate their managers to shrewdness.  Vigilance is only enhanced by a known, increased exposure to risk.  And how better to reach that goal, keeping every player on his toes, than to allow everyone to lie?

If every firm involved in the mortgage-backed securities mess assumed every other firm was utterly, completely full of shit, the “marks” would have all been raging skeptics.  No one would have accepted the surface valuations.  Those Germans would have done their homework. Everyone would have done more homework.  Paulson and Goldman wouldn’t have attempted to hoodwink a buyer the way they did.  The chance of success would be too low.

I know what a lot of you are thinking…

”Madness!  This has to be the stupidest goddamned thing you’ve ever written!  (And you’ve written many stupid things!) We can’t allow dishonesty as a standard business practice—have our markets balanced on millions of people engaged in efforts to defraud one another!

Really?  Are you sure that could never work?  Because that’s exactly how our legal system operates.

I’ve sketched the various forms of “soft lying” lawyers engage in under the banner of “advocacy” numerous times in the past.  This description, a mock obituary for a litigator from a piece called “Witness Preparation,” codifies them best:

“[O]bituary writers can’t tell the truth.  They can’t say that, among the many things [the litigator] might have been, he was undoubtedly a conniving, manipulative liar.  If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have been successful enough to warrant all that ink. “Lawyer” and “liar” aren’t mere sound-alikes – lying’s what we do.  We just don’t call it that.  We offer platitudes like, ‘There are three sides to any story – plaintiff’s, defendant’s, and the facts… by fighting, we ferret out the truth.’ That’s true, but it also means one side is lying all the time.  Our lies, however, are never direct.  Nobody counsels his client to bald-faced bullshit – that could cost you your license.  We lie by omission, hide facts or hijack the focus, making the other side’s credibility the issue, obscuring the claims against our clients.  We warp the language of an agreement into something its simple verbiage could never have intended.  Most of us rationalize this by lying to ourselves – suspending disbelief and supporting our client’s most obscene prevarications.  I’ve been dressed down several times by partners for merely joking in private that our client was lying.

‘The Judge will decide what’s true.  You aren’t the Judge.  You have a duty to your client.  You’re an advocate, and that is all.’

Translation: ‘I know our client is lying. You know he’s lying. But we want his money.’

And those are just rationalizations for the neophytes and service partner shlubs.  The big fish don’t need the justifications.  They know that the trick to lying effectively is complete self-delusion.  First, you have to make the facts your client gives you real in your mind, as though they actually happened exactly the way you’re going to tell them to the jury.  Give them a history, some context, a back story.  This sounds easy, but as the WMD debacle in Iraq eloquently illustrates, it’s actually hard as hell. 

The real facts have a pesky habit of surfacing at the worst times, and this causes serious problems.  You might mix up your client’s story with the true facts during a hearing or trial.  If one real fact sneaks in, the rest have a tendency to flood in through that hole in the dyke.  If you start thinking about the truth, your conscience might kick in subconsciously, leaving you a less-than-zealous advocate.

But how do you bridge the holes in your client’s fantastic story and bury the guilt of abetting his lies?  With the second half of that self-delusion: The victim complex.  Your client’s been screwed by his opponent before, so even if he’s wrong on this claim, he deserves to hit the bastard for some money.  Your client did something wrong, but something we all do from time to time… Why should he lose a fortune due to some bad timing?  It’s not lying; you’re righting a wrong – getting even for the aggrieved.  And there’s no justice if you lose.  Once a lawyer’s made the leap to this pedestal, the actual bullshitting’s easy.”

You might say that’s cynical.  Most litigators with the capacity to honestly assess their trade would offer a different descriptive: Accurate.  Call it whatever you like, “advocacy” is a form of spinning, misrepresentation by omission, and both are, well, lying.  Unswayed?  For context’s sake, consider some of our nation’s most illustrious litigators and trial lawyers, and a few stories about their work:

Bill Lerach: The dean of shareholder class action “strike” suits.  Served two years in federal prison as part of a plea agreement arising from an investigation of his firm for alleged payment of illegal kickbacks to ‘professional’ class action plaintiffs.

The Pinnacle Corp. Billing Fraud Investigation: An associate at a multinational law firm took a partner to the state ethics board for fabricating 450 hours of work in a mere two month span.

Dick Scruggs: Mississippi trial lawyer famous for collecting billion dollar tobacco litigation fees.  Now serving a seven-year sentence in federal prison for wire fraud and bribery related to an attempt to bribe a Mississippi judge.

The Ross Survey on Billing Fraud: Barely more than half of attorneys responding believed bill padding was unethical; nearly one third have engaged in it.

The Texas Asbestos and Silica Disease “Expert” Controversy: Judge finds thousands of reports submitted by experts on behalf of plaintiffs to have been fraudulent and fabricated by doctors who were paid in excess of a million dollars by mass tort lawyers.

The Lehman Bankruptcy Billing Controversy: Pay Czar Kenneth Feinberg was compelled to rein in counsel for running up $730 million in fees in less than two years.

A comprehensive list of sleazy practices common in the industry, on both the plaintiff and defense sides, would go on for days.  You get the picture.

But I haven’t come to bury Caesar.  I’ve come to offer up litigators and trial lawyers as exemplars—to ask if what’s acceptable for them shouldn’t also be so among bankers.  If an “adversarial system” where opponents spin and misrepresent facts to unsophisticated jurors is credible enough of a structure through which to find truth in an architecture where our liberty and property can be forfeit, why can’t a couple of equally sophisticated finance professionals bullshit one another?  If justice emerges from attorneys weaseling one another in the litigation process, wouldn’t the most informed trades result from two parties openly trying to deceive each other, suspicious as lawyers, vetting every element of the opponent’s proposition? 

Why do we preclude that in finance?  Is it because the money the bankers are dealing with is so much greater than what’s at issue in the legal business?

Wall Street compensation pool (2009): $130 billion.

Amount the Fed earned on repayment of loans it made to big banks and mortgage-backed securities purchases (2009): $46.1 billion.

Economic costs of tort litigation (2008): $254.7 billion.

Legal fees paid to 100 biggest U.S firms (2009): $74 billion.

No. Can’t be that.

Is it possible the reason is emotional, or worse, political?  Perhaps attorneys get a unique pass because, unlike bankers who have to buy the government’s cooperation, lawyers directly control the legislative and regulatory processes?  (Need I cite figures comparing the number of JDs and MBAs working in the federal government?  Didn’t think so.)

Maybe it’s as simple as political party.  Democrats love lawyers.  Can’t get enough of them.  “We need to embrace complexity!” That was our law professor-cum-President’s charge.  No problem in the world that can’t be solved with a new volume of rules.  And no better source of campaign funding than the industry that makes its living navigating the effluent stream of rules, which Washington widens every day. 

And Lord, do populists on the Left love their attorneys.  Robin Hoods for the workingman!  The little guy’s only chance against the monstrous, heartless corporations!  And we are in populist times, with the Left, as always, playing for emotional votes…and demanding economic “fairness,” whatever that is.

Populists, however, are exceedingly simple creatures.  They worship notions like consistency and howl at the suggestion of hypocrisy.  If you let them run the asylum, some might soon start asking, “When we’re done fixing health care and cleaning up all these banks, should we clean up the Court system, too?  Reform the legal industry people have been complaining about for decades?” They might ask the Democratic Congress to kill its golden goose.

Of course, that’s never going to happen.  Neither party would ever give up the contributions it gets from lawyers.  But in a better world—an intellectually honest, logical one—that lawyers are allowed to deceive while finance workers may not should at least give the banks some leverage, an argument against absurd regulation.  If the legal system decides matters involving our core, essential rights, and if the process through which our system finds truth is an admitted competition of lies, why hold something as amoral as finance—trades among the most sophisticated of institutional investors, no less—to a higher standard?

Why should Goldman be flayed for pulling the wool over a bank’s eyes the exact same way “Philadelphia Lawyers” pull it over juries’ every day?  And if the answer’s something incoherent—like “Because that’s just ‘the way it is,’ and lawyers are different than bankers”—then perhaps the Left-leaning populists backing Democrats should rethink their allegiance.  In the sort of republic they favor, where fairness would be paramount, consistency the highest grace, how can a party, Congress, or an administration root out thieves and degenerates on Wall Street without first cleaning the rats out of its own basement?

That, or just let the bankers lie, too.  Either approach would be more credible.

Read other posts by PhilaLawyer on Bitter Lawyer.

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Post image for Dear PhilaLawyer: My Crush is a Slut; Who Can I Assault?

[Ed. Note:  The following is the second reply in Bitter Lawyer’s offer to Ask the Philadelphia Lawyer Anything.  We received a ton of “interesting” entries seeking advice from the all-knowing lawyer/writer, but he is only answering three.  The lucky person who submitted the below question just won a copy of The Philadelphia Lawyer’s best-selling book, Happy Hour Is for Amateurs: Work Sucks. Life Doesn’t Have To.]

Q: This question has absolutely nothing to do with law, law school, law firms, etc… The only legal aspect is that I may or may not go to jail for assault, depending on what you say.

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A: Good. This may be “Bitter Lawyer,” but let’s face it—nobody here wants to read about law.  Law’s boring.  Look at the pieces that get the most traffic here: Bits on breast implants, breasts generally and…breasts.  Like everybody else filling out “TPS Reports” in Our Great Whiffle Economy, readers here want to think about anything that’ll keep their minds off the Matrix they pretend to care about for paychecks.  Congrats.  If nothing else, you’ve helped make someone’s quest for Monday-morning distractions a little easier.

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Q: The situation: For the past several months, I have been smitten by an extremely attractive former co-worker.  Although she is slightly nuts, I have made my feelings clear—and been rejected.  Fair enough.  On St. Patrick’s Day, we happened to be at the same bar, and I drunkenly put a move on her, which she rejected.  Again, fair enough.  However, 20 minutes later, she starts making out with some douchebag right in front of me.  Then a mutual friend of ours, who I consider a close friend and who knows my feelings towards this girl, admits to me he’s been fucking her for the past two weeks.  So my question has a couple parts.  One, am I permitted to call her a slut to her face?

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A: No.  But not because some notion of politeness or chivalry demands discretion.  Because the simple fact is: This woman is not a slut.  A slut screws everybody.  It’s the definition of the animal.  “That which sleeps with all.” Black’s Law Dictionary, 12th Ed (1957).  This woman merely screwed your friend, which makes her a garden-variety chick-you’d-like-to-be-banging-who-happens-to-be-banging-your-buddy.  My advice is to do what most men do in this circumstance: Call her whatever you like.  In the privacy of your apartment.  Then masturbate to internet porn, get loaded and forget about her until the next day, when you see your friend again, and he goes on for 10 minutes about her Brazilian.

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Q: I also feel like either punching my good friend in the face/nuts or never speaking to him again.  Is this a womanly overreaction, or am I justified?

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A: It’s on page 10 of the Marquess of Queensbury Rules: You can’t fight men over women, or women over women (the latter’s difficult to explain at arraignments).  I won’t comment on fighting women over men.  If that’s a possibility, you’re beyond my help.  (But please send me an email through my website, as I may want to write about you).  My advice is to cool down.  Put it from your mind.  You’ll find someone else soon enough, and the vision of this unrequited love that pops into your head every time you see your buddy—the one of her riding him in a reverse cowgirl position as he spanks her like a petulant child—will fade like the memory of the conference call you read The New York Times through this morning.

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Q: Being a big fan of your website, I know how you love fine booze. What is the ideal drink for getting over rejection?

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A: None.  The only cure for not screwing who you want is screwing someone else.  I don’t care if you have to go on a sex tour of Thailand, you need to get laid, yesterday.  It’s ancient wisdom, predating Confucianism, Zoroastrianism…running back to the days of Neanderthals, that one can only purge the pain of love rejected by purging something else, into someone else.  In the words of the immortal Stephen Stills (the wellspring of all sound, life-enriching advice), “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.” Long time.[1]

Barring that, magic mushrooms and three bottles of Veuve Clicquot Demi-Sec.  (A little pricey, but it goes down like soda, and who’s more deserving of our generosity than ourselves?) Do not seek solace in bourbon.  Liquid rage is the last thing you want in your bloodstream.  A half a bottle of Knob Creek is the fastest path I can imagine, short of an eight ball, to an assault conviction for scattering your buddy’s teeth around his apartment.  Stay cool and follow the time-tested wisdom of Frank Costanza: “Serenity now… Serenity now…”

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BONUS QUESTION FROM A SECRET ADMIRER:

Q: Are you hot?  In my head you’re classically very masculine and sexy (think Colin Firth or Clive Owen), but then reason sets in as to the likelihood of that, and I think otherwise.  I need a visual, PhilaLawyer.  How sexy are you?
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A: Flattery will get you everywhere, and here it’s gotten you a book, but I’ve been asked this a number of times, and I can’t objectively answer.  So here it is from my wife:

Thank you.  Although he wrote an entire chapter about my anatomy, I never had the opportunity to return the favor.  In a word, yes.  The Clive Owen/Colin Firth scale is appropriate.  He’s 6’2, thick, straight hair, great hands, a laugh that can be deep or a giggle like a naughty schoolboy, and expressive green eyes that get a wonderful side crinkle when he smiles.  I could go on, but he says this has to be short.

She tells me women will understand that.  I assume you’re a woman (or a very strange man), so there you have it.
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[1] Airfare to Bangkok is surprisingly cheap, I’m told.

The Philadelphia Lawyer lives outside Philadelphia with his family, including his non-lawyer wife.

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[Ed. Note:  The following is the first reply in Bitter Lawyer’s offer to Ask the Philadelphia Lawyer Anything.  We received a ton of “interesting” entries seeking advice from the all-knowing lawyer/writer, but he is only answering three.  The lucky person who submitted the below question just won a copy of The Philadelphia Lawyer’s best-selling book, Happy Hour Is for Amateurs: Work Sucks. Life Doesn’t Have To. Check back to read his responses to the two other questions he selects to answer in his own famous style.]

Q: 3L here, and I’m a devoted reader of PhilaLawyer.  My question is this: You are on record almost everywhere as stating that you generally regard the practice of law as a “scam” in a variety of ways (billable hours scam, license leveraging scam, partner pyramid scheme, etc.).  Your opinions almost always reflect back on the “big law” perspective.  Do you think these opinions ring true outside of big law?  Does your experience show that you would find equal ridiculousness in local general practice firms, boutique firms, PI firms, government offices, criminal defense firms, etc.?  Does the cynicism cover the whole legal world, or just the circus of big law?

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A: Damnit, Bitterlawyer… I told you we needed to put a “no compound question” rule into it.  But no.  Nobody ever listens to me.  He’s drunk again.  Delete his rants about contest rules.  (But keep the porn links he accidentally sent. Except for the ‘Amputee’ and ‘Anorexic Centerfolds’ stuff… The ‘hottest ribcage’ shots are truly nauseating).

Yeah, I know what you think of me.

And now, what have we?  A mailbox full of compound questions.  Fuck it, BL… It’s your bandwidth.  Here we go…

First, thanks.  For reading and raising an excellent question.

No, my opinions are not directed exclusively at BigLaw.  I think the perception that they are comes from the fact that BigLaw appears to be the only form of law in existence online.  This isn’t shocking, of course.  To borrow a line from a friend, “everyone on the Internet is six-foot-six, has a 12-inch penis, threw 95-mph fastballs in high school and descends directly from the Bourbon, Habsburg or Rothschild dynasties.  Ninety percent of people commenting on any legal website pretend they’re at the best firms in the country.  In reality, we’re looking at as many living-in-mom’s-basement Ignatius Reilly or David Berkowitz types as we are actual, serious lawyers.  But, as long as the majority of commenters posture themselves as “playas” and the sites focus on BigLaw gossip, readers will assume every article’s discussing BigLaw.

You read the book, so you’re aware of my experience in various sized firms.  Yes, the smaller the firm, the greater emphasis there is on producing value.  But the “ridiculousness” exists at every level.  Though I can’t speak for the deal side, in litigation, a big part of the problem—as big as the firms’ convoluted business models—is our archaic court systems.

On the criminal side, with lives at stake, we need a slow, methodical system.  On the civil side, however, the courts allow far too many litigants in who have no business filing cases.  I wrote a piece a while back called “Shysterproofing the Courts (Tips for the Tort Reform Crowd)”, which outlined how a push toward early mediation and holding expert witnesses liable for dubious opinions could cut down on the number of garbage tort cases clogging courts’ dockets.  I think those points can be applied to business litigation, along with one other important reform: Loser Pays.[1]

What business litigator hasn’t filed a specious claim on behalf of a developer or some mid-sized company purely for leverage or to gain some advantage in a business deal?  The current system allows well-heeled corporate clients to play chicken with each other in the system for years—with little, if any, risk.  This engenders among lawyers the belief that we’re mere pawns in a pointless game of chess where the only real measuring stick is how many tasks one can list on a time sheet every month.  People who toil on the same rote shit every day and see no value in their work have no reason to provide any.  The system’s ridiculous, the job’s ridiculous.  They’re ridiculous.  Who wouldn’t start phoning in his work and riding his cases for billables?

Many argue the best cure for the studied inefficiencies and intentional redundancies that make modern litigation the ridiculous process it’s become is to eliminate the billable hour.  That’d be nice, but it’s not going to happen fast enough.  The better fix is the simplest: Throttling the revenue stream.  Slap a strong “Loser Pays” rule on corporate litigants, and they’ll think twice about filing dubious cases against one another.[2] A smaller inventory of better cases—ones clients actually intend to take all the way to trial, rather than use to hold money or bleed a competitor—woud reacquaint lawyers with the actual practice of law and the provision of value instead of “legal widget” production.

So yes, I’m cynical about big and mid-sized firms.  They pushed the industry from value toward unit sales.  But they’re not alone in that anymore.  Not even close to it.  If I appear to have suggested big firms are more ridiculous than small ones, that’s inadvertent.

It’s true, larger firms created the environment in which the costly, unnecessary and ludicrous practices I’ve describe in my book and here at Bitter Lawyer have flourished.  But the ridiculousness has been industry-wide, at every level of firm, for a long, long time.

PS: BL… Since you have the email already, check out the ‘Sexiest Stump’ section.  The chick with the eye patch is so naughty.

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[1] Yeah, I know the response: “That’ll never happen, dude.  Never.” Perhaps.  But the first step in effecting any change is pushing an idea in the public sphere.  You never know who might be reading.

[2] We can’t apply a “Loser Pays” structure to personal injury claims because the average personal injury claimant with contingent-fee counsel rarely has pockets from which to pay.  (Most favor drawstring sweatpants.)

The Philadelphia Lawyer lives outside Philadelphia with his family, including his non-lawyer wife.

Read other Bitter Lawyer posts by PhilaLawyer.

Check out other lists, tallies and scores to settle in Bitter by Numbers.

Join Bitter Lawyer on Facebook.  Follow on Twitter.

Buy Bitter Lawyer merchandise.

 

Keep Reading ⇒

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[Ed. Note: We love partnering with PhilaLawyer.  Because that’s when stuff really gets twisted.  We like his bite, his taste in women and his unfettered commitment to the dark side

He’s no stranger to Bitter Lawyer, having written some of our most popular pieces, and he manages to regularly entertain a fiercely loyal audience on his own blog where he freely divulges his insights and tales of debauchery in response to working in “the world’s worst profession.”

He’s always bitching about how busy he is, but we asked him to do us a favor anyway: Give people a chance to ask him an advice question—any question.  And we want to see where he runs with it.

Well, low and behold, he agreed to answer three.  So Bitter Lawyer is looking for the three best. 

Send you questions for PhilaLawyer to .  Put “Question for PL” in the subject line, and let us know what’s on your mind that only a vile guy like him may have the answer to.  Don’t worry, you’ll remain anonymous.

The three people who submit the questions he answers will win a copy of his best-selling book, Happy Hour Is for Amateurs: Work Sucks. Life Doesn’t Have To., courtesy of us.  And we may even throw in some Bitter Lawyer swag.  That’s a pretty sweetened pot.

Take it away, PhilaLawyer….]

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Hello, I’m the Philadelphia Lawyer, and thanks to the terrible judgment of the great folks at Bitterlawyer, I’m here to offer advice.  Three columns over the next few weeks—an “Ask the Philadelphia Lawyer Anything” type of deal. 

Why me?

Why not?  “Life, liberty, the right to pen a self-help blog, if not a whole book, by the age of twenty nine...” It’s the new American Birthright. 

I’ve offered advice on Bitter Lawyer before…

Eight Billable Hour Scams

Five Steps to Being a Plaintiff Lawyer Machine

Seven Women You Sleep With in Law School

The way I see it, if we can’t share our insights to empower others, why have them at all? 

Do we really need more advice?

Of course not.  Mike Wallace has a brighter future than the legal industry; you needn’t know much more than that.  But what else are you going to do with all that time you’re padding into bills?  Read another twenty Wikipedia links on Kimodo Dragons, Spontaneous Human Combustion and the ‘86 Mets? 

What do you know?

Nothing, just like everybody else.  But somebody paid me to write a book (you might have seen a few associates hiding a copy here and there), which, I guess, means I’ve got something to say.  So nothing from me probably sounds a little bit better than nothing from the guy in the office next door reading about Vatican conspiracies and Hitler’s private limousine between penny stock trades.  Or maybe not (the Vatican stuff on Wikipedia is fascinating). 

But seriously, I’ve been writing about the field since 2005 and have worked in a number of divergent areas—from corporate crime through business litigation all the way to plaintiff’s work.  This provides me a rich tapestry of experience from which to draw.

So ask me anything you want to know.

“Should I screw the crazy paralegal on my floor?”

“Should I screw the crazy paralegal on the floor above mine?”

“I screwed the crazy paralegal on Nine, and now I have these sores and...”

You can even ask about the career.  I might answer those. 

The guys at Bitter Lawyer have a bunch of copies of my book, Happy Hour Is for Amateurs: Work Sucks. Life Doesn’t Have To..  Send them questions to .  We’ll pick three to respond to, and those readers will get free copies of the book.[1]

Because I Care,

The Philadelphia Lawyer

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[1] If I only get two responses, we’ll flip a coin and one person will get two copies.  No worries—they make excellent gifts.  Perfect for teens.

The Philadelphia Lawyer lives outside Philadelphia with his family, including his non-lawyer wife.

Read other Bitter Lawyer posts by PhilaLawyer.

Check out other lists, tallies and scores to settle in Bitter by Numbers.

Join Bitter Lawyer on Facebook.  Follow on Twitter.

Buy Bitter Lawyer merchandise.

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Post image for Seven Women You Sleep With in Law School

[Ed. Note 1: For today’s “The Best of the Bitter: 2009,” we’re revisiting the three most popular lists from 2009. Seven Women You Sleep With in Law School by PhilaLawyer was hilarious and obviously number one (his previous piece, Eight Billable Hour Scams, was hugely popular too).  In second place was Eight Real/Fake BigLaw Criteria, and third was Seven Signs of a D-Bag Lawyer.]

[Ed. Note 2: We are happy to welcome back our friend, the ever-vile, occasionally insightful PhilaLawyer.  His literary masterstroke, Happy Hour Is for Amateurs: Work Sucks, Life Doesn’t Have To, is being released in paperback October 13, which means the original hardback version was a publishing success.  Jealous?  We are.  You can order a pre-release copy on Amazon or look for it in bookstores soon.]

“One of the meaner realities you run into the first month of law school is the dating pool.  Like college, the place should provide all the opportunities you need.  I say should, of course, because in reality, law school is actually the photographic negative of college, an anti-beauty pageant in every regard.  And I’m not being sexist here.  In fact, the law school singles scene is probably a lot crueler to females than males.  A lazy woman looking for anything from a fuck buddy to Mr. Right is faced with endless varieties of Dustin Diamond, Beavis, Bobcat Goldthwait, and the guy who played the subway ghoul in Ghost.  Whatever your sex, living in this world your standards drop like an anchor.”

—Happy Hour Is for Amateurs

That’s how I saw the dating scene after my first month in law school.  It’s true.  The potential DNA mash-ups floating around a law school would bring most geneticists to teeth-chattering piss shivers.  Nevermind the towering collection of dysfunctions and malignant paranoias—the aesthetics alone raise compelling arguments for the forced sterilization of the profession.  But that description always seemed a bit incomplete, aimed solely at the male side of the class.

The good folks here at Bitter Lawyer and I have attempted to remedy that.  So, in the spirit of incisive analysis, crack reporting and, as always, crude and juvenile generalization, we analyzed the side we know in more detail: The Seven Types of Women You Sleep With in Law School.

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1.  MRS. ROBINSON

The older, second-career lawyer who’s somewhere between the high end of the “dirty thirties” and mid-forties.  She’s seen it all, done it all—without a hint of a stress hormones anywhere in her bloodstream.  This woman knows how to fuck and doesn’t want anything from you but an orgasm.

Upside: Never an awkward exit; she throws you out when she’s done.

Downside: You kind of want to stay.

5 GAVELS

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2.  THE LIBRARY JOCKEY

Lives in the tombs of the library, studying tirelessly.  Never goes to the bars, never goes to parties.  So how does she blow off steam?  By blowing you until you’re rawer than an Indian burn.  Just as the quiet mousy chick in your freshman dorm hall screamed, “In my ass… Yes… Oh, God… Harder!” and tested the stress rivets on her mattress when her hometown boyfriend visited, the Library Jockey’s a closeted sex fiend and full-on four-star deviant.

Bonus: You also get all of her outlines.

Downside: And genital warts.

4 GAVELS

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3. THE STATE POLICEWOMAN

Been pulled over by a female cop?  Then you get the analogy.  You’re walking the white line and tongue-kissing the breathalyzer, even if you’re three houses from your driveway.  No quarter, no mercy.  Only ice water bathing her nerves.  Her counterpart in the law school world is an equally obsessed, equally ruthless rule custodian.  Either by nature or overcompensation, she has a need to appear more coldly analytical and rational than any male around her.  She’s drawn to the rigid aspects law, following the black letter rules to their every picayune syllable.  Reads the actual casebooks, as opposed to the Emmanuel’s outlines. Writes all her briefs from scratch, actually knows how to Sheppardize. The Japanese Army had less deference to procedure and rote, mindless execution.

Not-Unexpected Upside: Closet BDSM freak.

Downside: You’re the gimp.

Unexpected Upside: You like it.

3 GAVELS

________________________________

4.  THE SOCIAL WORKER

Sixty percent of law students come looking for money. Twenty percent figure it beat playing Dungeons & Dragons and masturbating to MrSkin.com in their parents’ basements for the rest of their lives.  Fifteen percent picked their heads up from a bong senior year of college and were struck with the epiphany, “Shit… I need a career.” All are deluded, of course, but none as much as the type of woman you’ll find in that last five percent: The Social Worker.  She came to law school seeking to change the world.  And now she’s facing the cruel realization that if there’s one place this will never happen—somewhere terminally, absolutely constipated on a ceaseless diet of risk aversion, mental masturbation, pettiness, tradition for tradition’s sake and senseless worship of precedent—it’s Law.

Upside: She’s earthy and in touch with herself.

Bonus Upside: She let’s you watch.

Double Bonus Upside: Scores excellent dope.

Downside: Makes you smoke it with her at Phish shows.

3 GAVELS

________________________________

5.  THE HEAD CASE

She’s attractive, but a stress bag.  A walking, breathing car wreck.  Intelligent enough to be proficient, not quite smart enough to be calm.  Obsesses over every assignment or exam.  A nattering, nail-biting wreck.  Everyone she knows is her therapist, which is generally you more than any of the others.  Why?  Because the two of you got together after an exam, threw back a dozen vodkas and wound up screwing on her couch.

Downside: Perpetually in some form of dire crisis, and you have to save the day.

Bonus: The solution’s always sex.

2 GAVELS

________________________________

6.  THE STALKER

Sleep with her and you own her.  You’re stuck with her, just like breaking a piece of fine china in a store.  The quest for a man defines her existence.  Which is why she can never keep any.  One drunken fuck, and she’ll follow you like a predator drone.  Any time you’re talking to another female student, in the corner of your eye, barely in your plane of vision, she’ll be there, staring daggers into your spine like Sissie Spacek in Carrie.  “You’re mine, you understand that?” You can all but see her mouthing the words.

Dangerous Downside: Her self esteem’s so low she’ll stoop to any level to keep you.

(“We’re not exclusive.  You can’t show up at my place when I have a date over.”)

Hidden Upside: Her self esteem’s so low she’ll stoop to almost any level to keep you.

(“Unless you want to participate.”)

2 GAVELS

________________________________

7.  THE ‘MRS.’ CANDIDATE

She’s hot. And she has to be for what she’s seeking, which isn’t a JD. Daddy has a few bucks, enough to pay her way through grad school.  And McKinsey wasn’t interviewing any Interpretative Dance majors. She thought about medical school.  She thought about an MBA. Both required actual work. So she took a Kaplan course, pulled a decent score on the LSAT and here she is, looking for the “Mr.” to her “Mrs.” If you’re a half-decent-looking law student with a thimble’s worth of charm (otherwise known as one of the twelve normal guys in the class), you’re in the midst of her “no less than two karats” crosshairs.

Upside: She looks great naked.

Downside: She screws like a Real Doll.

Morning-After Downside: Her birth control pill caddie has an undisturbed wrapper around it.

Extra-Horrible Morning-After Downside: So does the condom in your wallet.

1 GAVEL

________________________________

My advice?  The same sage wisdom you’ve heard a million times before.  Never dip your pen in the company ink.  It’s not that you’ll screw up your future career.  That’d be a blessing in disguise.  It’s that you might screw up everything else.

The Philadelphia Lawyer lives outside Philadelphia with his family, including his non-lawyer wife.

Read other Bitter Lawyer posts by PhilaLawyer.

Check out other lists, tallies and scores to settle in Bitter by Numbers.

Join Bitter Lawyer on Facebook.  Follow on Twitter.

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Keep Reading ⇒

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Post image for Five Steps to Being a Plaintiff Lawyer Machine

Laid off from Biglaw?  We know, it’s horrible. The profession has been turned on its head.  All that money, that schooling. All the years of suffering those hoards of social invalids and Napoleons in your firm.  And now you’re in the poor house.

Or maybe not…

You can wallow in self-pity, groveling for scraps as a “temp” slave or toiling in whatever insurance defense mill will hire you, OR you can go where the smart money’s been headed for years—Ambulance Chasing!

Sure, they won’t let you into the good country clubs, and people snicker behind your back, but really, when you’re pulling down six figures in this downturn, who gives a fuck?

Yeah, it’s true. You can make a pile of money filing those “1-800-INJURED” cases.  Fishing for hungry plaintiffs in this economy is like running around Skid Row with a pull-cart full of heroin and Thunderbird.  And this shit ain’t brain surgery either.  Even a Big Firm paper pusher like you—the kind of guy who doesn’t know a courtroom from a cloakroom—can run this practice model.

Looking to start?  Here’s a crash course.  (It differs from city to city, but the general gist of the operation is always the same):

1.  Get a Referral Source

First thing you need is business. Most people think Plaintiffs’ lawyers get their cases from the cheesy ads they run during Jerry Springer and Dr. Phil.  Untrue.  The best sources of clients are “Referral Lawyers.”

Trial lawyers go out and get cases on their own. They get them from other attorneys in exchange for a “referral fee”—or a third of the trial lawyer’s take.  If the trial lawyer nets $3 million in fees, the referral lawyer who brought him the client gets a check for what Wall Street bankers used to call “a unit.” That’s rare, of course, but if he refers enough cases to enough lawyers… well, you get the picture.

Some referrals come in from other lawyers who don’t do personal injury law or are too busy to take them. But a lot of them, the high volume cases that fund a firm’s regular cash flow, come from storefront practices in the desperate parts of town—places where saying, “I’m going to talk to my lawyer” has cachet.  Where the slightest trip on a sidewalk or slip on a banana peel is a “compensation” event.

But how do you find one of these referral sources?  That’s easy.  Scour the local bar registry and look for attorneys with addresses in the scariest parts of town—generalists with ads in three languages, claiming to handle everything from paternity claims to class actions. Invite one to lunch. If he shows up in a Lexus, you’ve got your man.  (I’d normally recommend you become a referral lawyer yourself, but if you could score business, you wouldn’t be reading this right now.)

2.  Have a Personal Injury Doctor Handy

Next thing you need is a good doctor. The first thing a Referral Lawyer does when a prospective client consults with him is make sure the person gets medical treatment to create a record.  If the client has no basis to see a true physician at a hospital or clinic, the Referral Counsel sends him to a “Personal Injury Doctor.”

A Personal Injury Doctor’s practice is part medical clinic/part litigation support company.  The doctor immediately writes a modified form report finding the client suffered a myriad of subtle and amorphous neck, back and “soft tissue” injuries from his slip-and-fall accident.  The doctor then “treats” the client and gives favorable testimony in exchange for the lawyer agreeing to pay the “medical” bills out of any recovery in the case.

The lawyer agrees because he needs the doctor to support his client’s injury claim, and the more treatment the Personal Injury Doctor provides, the greater the patient’s damages.  The lawyer can also then negotiate for a bigger settlement by arguing that the plaintiff has huge doctor bills to pay.  And this increases the lawyer’s fee, which is a percentage of the gross recovery.  And that means a perfect, symbiotic relationship.

If your Referral Source doesn’t have a good Personal Injury Doctor, find your own. Use Google Maps to locate every medical clinic within two blocks of anything with “palm reading” or “pawn shop” in the title.  In the right neck of the woods, there’s a “Dr. Nick Riviera” every four blocks.

3.  Learn the “Broad Net” Approach to Complaints

Some lawyers think the trick to writing a good complaint is laying out detailed allegations and backing them up with as many supporting exhibits as possible.  In business litigation, that’s often true.  Saying, “Here’s how you breached the contract, and the proof” early can bring some opponents to the settlement table.

Plaintiffs’ lawyers write Complaints as bare bones as possible to preserve every conceivable argument as to how and why the defendant is liable.

Plaintiff’s story:

“I tripped and fell on a can of tuna fish somebody left in Aisle 6 at SuperFresh.  My back and neck are such a mess and I can’t do anything and I had to take the last month off.  It’s sooo terrible.”

The Complaint:

“Plaintiff, as a result of the Defendant’s negligent and/or reckless failure to observe and maintain the aisles and/or store inventory or other items in such a way so that objects would not be present on the floor of said aisles and/or, upon information and belief, train employees and/or agents to observe or maintain walking areas in the store and/or implement policies to maintain or observe walkways within the store in a safe condition, was caused to fall and impact with the floor, causing her severe and substantial injuries as more fully set forth herein.”

Why the “broad net” approach?  Because claiming the plaintiff fell over a tuna fish can in Aisle 6 is too narrow a story.  Suppose the tuna fish is kept in Aisle 15?  Suppose Aisle 6 is the cooking oil, adult diapers and feminine hygiene products? You need to be able to maneuver the client’s version of the facts to react to the other side’s evidence contradicting her story. Maybe she tripped on a soup can.  Or a loose piece of molding on a display shelf. Perhaps wolves chased her from the meat aisle.

Always think “shotgun.” You never know what the hell you’ll be claiming near trial.

4.  Don’t Be Afraid to Go on a Fishing Expedition

You’re a lawyer, so you already know that the facts on which a case turns often have nothing to do with the specific event or dispute at issue in the Complaint.  An ugly admission in Discovery having little, if anything, to do with the crux of the case can force a defendant to cough up a settlement.

You know how in shareholder suits, class action firms demand sensitive and embarrassing information to push the Board of Directors toward a payout?  Well, small-time plaintiffs’ suits work the same way. Discovery often leads to a treasure trove of irrelevant ugly information that can drive the value of a lackluster or frivolous case sky high.

In the hypothetical slip-and-fall case just described, say the plaintiff’s lawyer finds that the store employee charged with cleaning the aisle at the time of the incident was fired for drinking on the job.  Now the lawyer can claim the store should have terminated that worker sooner, and the store’s failure to do so created a situation where a drunk forgot to clean the aisle, which caused the Plaintiff to fall.

Or perhaps the lawyer will catch a scared store manager in a self-serving lie, stating the aisle was inspected every hour when in reality it was only inspected twice a day.

Neither lie proves any of the plaintiff’s claims, but you can be damn sure to use them to push for a settlement—knowing the defendant fears their disclosure at trial would spell doom.

Get out your rod and tackle, and head for the deep waters.

5.  Be Prepared to Play Chicken All the Way Up to the Courthouse Stairs

After the Discovery phase is over, the parties file Motions for Summary Judgment (MSJs), arguing the court should find in their favor on admitted facts without holding a trial.  In a huge piece of business litigation, this juncture is nerve-wracking—wondering if the court will throw out some (or all) of your claims or defenses based on the wording of an agreement.

But in injury cases, you don’t have to worry about that so much.  They’re he-said/she-said disputes, which can only be decided through testimony at trial.  All you have to show is a thin hint of facts under which a jury could find in the plaintiff’s favor to get past an MSJ. The standard couldn’t be lower, and judges don’t like having their rulings publicly reversed on appeal.

The safest course for any state court is to deny the motion and allow the plaintiff to have his day in court, which is necessarily a gift to the plaintiff.

Just act like you know what you’re doing.  There’s a one-in-ten chance you might actually have to try the damn thing.

Yeah, plaintiffs’ work carries a stigma, but you’re going to have to get over your “prestige” fixation sooner or later.  What did you think?  That Big Firm of yours was going to make you an equity partner?  Hate to burst the dream, Spanky, but its time for you to get real.

Law is a trade, and a deeply devalued one for the reasonably foreseeable future.  Corporations won’t be paying what they were before, even when the economy comes back.  But Americans?  Americans will always be litigious and opportunistic. And they’ll never stop getting in fender benders, tripping on cracks or blaming their children’s ugliness or imbecility on lead paint or the Indonesian plastic used in G.I. Joe action figures.  You’ll never have a shortage of clients.

It’s hardly discussed, but it’s a well-known fact that good plaintiffs’ lawyers with solid pipelines of referrals can easily earn multiples of the average billable-hour slave’s salary.

Oh, and they rarely work weekends.  Case closed.

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When we asked in a recent poll whether you would stay in your job if forced to take a 20% pay cut, nearly 80% of you said yes. That’s hardly a bona fide economic indicator, but lawyers are typically more prone to bitching about being underpaid than overpaid, and when the bitching stops, that’s cause for alarm.  (Continued below.)

Right now, lawyers would not only accept a pay cut, they’d be happy to do so if it meant saving their job because the notion of guaranteed employment for those with JDs no longer exists.

“It is that bad out there,” one anonymous New York BigLaw associate told Bitter Lawyer. “You’d be crazy to just walk away.”

Another anonymous associate at a prominent D.C. firm told Bitter Lawyer that he “continues to knock on wood [that he has a job] every time he sees an article about layoffs,” adding that he’d gladly accept a pay cut, but would (politely) ask if he could work fewer hours.

Another pragmatic associate in New York put it this way: “A twenty percent pay cut is far better than a 100 percent pay cut.”

A half-dozen other lawyers we emailed, many of whom expressed fear that the job market would get worse before it gets better, seconded that sentiment.

“Generally, it’s awful,” a partner told Bitter Lawyer. “Firms are shedding lawyers, some en masse.”

Only those associates trained in high-demand specialties are weathering the storm, and according to the partner we spoke with, young lawyers with backgrounds in labor, health and environmental law are still getting job offers, provided that they come with turn-key skill sets that will be cost-effective for the clients.

But those who make their money putting resumes in front of hiring partners don’t (want to) agree that the market is that bad.

Headhunter Stacy Miller Azcarate of San Francisco-based attorney search firm Miller, Sabino & Lee concedes that the market is bad. But she says the pendulum is expected to swing into positive territory soon.

“Frankly, I’m excited to see what it all looks like in a year,” Azcarate says.

ESQ Recruiting, which focuses solely on the in-house market, reports that virtually all of its clients—from Fortune 50 companies to startups—have reduced their in-house legal budgets. But Vanessa Vidal, the recruiting firm’s president, says layoffs aren’t hitting the legal departments of most of the companies she works with. Instead, those companies are opting to explore such options as pay freezes and reducing benefits and bonuses.

So does that mean lawyers faced with the option of a 20 percent pay cut or the door should choose the former in this market?

Anecdotal evidence says yes.

BigLaw alone has laid off enough lawyers to start a handful of new major firms, and by the time you read this, our favorite layoff tracker on Law Shucks will be woefully out of date because the pace of firings is almost too fast to keep up with.

Some firms are trying to be tactical.  Epitomizing a new trend, Chicago’s McGuireWoods LLP said it’s reducing starting salaries for first-year associates from $160,000 to $144,000. Other firms have deferred start dates for 3Ls and even shortened or cancelled summer associate programs.

Across the pond, Harrowells, a UK firm, put more than 100 lawyers and staff on a four-day week rather than instituting layoffs. In fact, it’s so bad out there that The New York Times ran a story about how a corporate lawyer now dines at restaurants that accept coupons. Ouch.

So, with all the misery out there, it’s little wonder that 78% of those polled said they would “suck it up and work” in the face of a 20% pay cut. Which begs the question: How low just might the salary limbo go?

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Eight Billable Hour Scams

by PhilaLawyer on February 19, 2009

Post image for Eight Billable Hour Scams

Perhaps you’ve read the The New York Times article about Even Chesler, the Cravath partner who calls for lawyers to “get rid of the billable hour.” It focuses on why, in this new economy, corporate America will no longer pay outrageous prices for litigation services.

In the wake of that thrust are a few small references to the inefficiencies and, in some cases, outright frauds, invited by the billable hour system. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, aside from the well-known practice of bill padding, few specifics are considered.

I’d like to remedy that here and offer some detailed examples of the more nuanced forms of chicanery engendered by our current billing model. Here are eight of the more insidious ways some of us separate clients from their wallets. The ones nobody ever catches.

1Fluffing the Exposure. Clients decide how much money to spend on their defense based on how much they stand to lose. The average case a decent billable hour firm handles is a basic breach of contract claim, limiting the plaintiff’s recovery to the amount of money it would have been entitled to under the contract. Plaintiff’s counsel will often fix this disadvantage by adding tort claims, like fraud or breach of good faith and fair dealing, which add the threat of additional damages. Technically.

A half-witted defense lawyer knows that most of these add-ons are naked leverage plays. Whether he tells the client that, however, is another issue. If the client thinks those claims have a chance, it’ll pay more in defense costs. The enhanced risk also provides “Success Insurance.” So if the actual exposure is $1 million, but the client thinks its $1.7 million, a $1 million settlement with $300,000.00 in attorneys’ fees looks like a win.

2“Wal-Mart” Document Review. One of the greatest revenue sources in law is a dirty warehouse of old, dingy paper. In any piece of large, complex litigation, there’s an archive of documents—in Rochester, St. Paul or Topeka—in which some bit of material one of the parties might need to make its case is scattered amongst 50,000 boxes of irrelevant pulp. Teams fly to the location and spend weeks searching through boxes, making spreadsheet indexes of documents no one will ever read and sending thousands of copies to the firm’s home office, where a team of techies (at another cost to the client) turn them into searchable databases. While they do that, associates and paralegals from the opponents’ firm watch, to make sure no documents are hidden or destroyed. Thousands of dollars per hour until every conceivably relevant piece of paper has been vetted.

And that’s just an example of actual firm employees reading the paper at issue. The new model, the “Wal-Mart” approach, is much more lucrative. All you need is a boiler room of temps or independent contractors (young, unemployed lawyers from lousy schools with no other job prospects) to read the material at $35.00-$50.00 per hour, while you bill the client a hefty markup on the labor. The St. Mary’s Upstairs College of Law graduates scanning those documents are technically lawyers. And that credential allows you to tell the client “attorneys” are reviewing the material.

If the firm’s new associates would be billed out at $250.00 per hour for that same work, a contract lawyer should at least warrant, say, $100.00-150.00 per hour. The client won’t complain. It thinks it’s getting a deal.

3Volunteering. Litigation’s a piecework business—no profit in having your opponent’s lawyer do something you can do yourself. We kill each other in open court, but when it comes time for one of us to prepare an order for the judge’s signature or a first draft of a settlement agreement, we’re suddenly doing an “Alphonse & Gaston” routine with one another.

“Oh, I’ll take the first crack at drafting the agreement.”
“No, allow me. I’ve done one in a similar case before.”

If your opponent crafts the initial version of anything, he gets the lion’s share of billable time out of the project. In the case of a settlement agreement, doing the first draft can be the better part of a day’s worth of billables.

And if a client asks why you didn’t let the other side create the first draft, the answer is always, “Because I wanted to control the process, to make sure you were protected.”

4Double Dipping. The quickest way to stack up billable hours is a traveling assignment. If your opponent demands you take deposition halfway across the country, don’t fight him. It’s an economic opportunity where you bill for every minute of the travel. Then stack on that all of the time you spend on other clients’ cases during the trip. Using this approach, a twelve-hour trip from Philadelphia to Detroit for a deposition can net a total of seventeen billable hours.[1]

And nobody who’d care would ever find out you were billing two different clients at the same time. The overlapping entries appear on separate invoices, the laws of physics in the billable world applying on a client-by-client basis.

[1] 5 hrs on plane (assuming a modest PHL delay) + 3 hrs in deposition + 4 hrs driving to/from airport, checking in and waiting for rental car/cab + 5 billable hrs working on other cases on plane/in airport/in cab = 17 hrs.

5Scorched Earth. The smallest case can turn into a billing bonanza, if you run it the right way and set a nasty tone:

  • Get opposing counsel pissed early by ignoring his letters.
  • Develop an acrimonious relationship where you only communicate in writing. Letters run up a lot more in fees than phone calls.
  • When the opponent demands documents from your client, respond with a high-handed, curt reply. “Your request is overly broad. If you hone it to a succinct category of material, I’ll be able to respond.” The average litigator is stressed, irritable, and has an eggshell ego. A cryptic response is taken as an insult. He’ll snap and file a motion with the court, which is what you want. And since most judges are Solomonic, they’ll order you to produce two-thirds of what your opponent demanded. You look like a winner to your client and pick up a pile of billable hours you wouldn’t have had otherwise.
  • When your client’s deposed, object to everything. Direct your client not to answer a wide variety of questions, forcing your opponent to file a motion compelling him to do so. You look like a bulldog to your client, get the billable time for preparing a response to another motion, and if the court orders your client to answer what he previously didn’t, you’ll be awarded additional billables for preparing him for and representing him at a second deposition.

These are just a few examples. If you used those tactics alone, you’d could add 20 hours to your bills. At $250 per hour, that’s $5,000.00, just for being an asshole.

6Pre-Fabs. It’s all derivative, and litigation’s no exception. Whatever brief a lawyer’s writing, it’s been written before—and it’s somewhere in the firm’s server. A decent lawyer can cut and paste together the guts of a legal argument in an hour or two.

  • Dave Chappelle = Richard Pryor
  • George Clooney = Cary Grant
  • Pam Anderson = Jane Mansfield
  • All rock music is a variation on the riff from “Satisfaction” or “Paranoid”
  • Everything on television is a rehash of plotlines from Seinfeld or M.A.S.H.

The question then is how to bill for that work. A lot of litigators say you should bill them for the “value” of the work—approximating the hours it took to create the template you used, plus your case-specific modifications.

Sounds like a good deal, but I wonder: How do you do that? Look up the associate who wrote the original papers five years ago, call him at his new firm and ask him how long it took? Call accounting and see if they have his old time sheet handy?

7Blind Alleyways . The central issues in a contract dispute aren’t difficult to predict. The words of the agreement limit the universe of available arguments, and there are only so many credible interpretations of the parties’ duties. You tend to learn the two or three important facts, pieces of evidence and issues that will decide the dispute pretty early in the case.

Keep them to yourself. A lot of clients like to play attorney and discuss peripheral matters they think are relevant to a claim or defense. No harm in encouraging them to flex their inner Clarence Darrows. The more issues raised, the more work done:

MEMO
To: Client, File
Re: The Napoleonic Code Does Not Apply in Indiana

The client won’t complain—it raised them.

8The Babel Effect. The best way to ensure a client doesn’t complain about a bill is to write it in language he can’t understand. Lawyers do the same thing bankers, insurance agents and every other category of middleman does: Blur the simplicity of the service they provide with silly industry language that makes it seem complex enough to justify the fee.

  • Brokers use words like “no load,” “field bet” or “collar.”
  • Consultants run “models,” talk about “synergies,” or say how some strategy is “baked into” a broader plan.
  • Litigators talk in terms of “statutory preclusion,” “stare decisis” and “promissory estoppel,” and filing things like “demurrers,” appointing “guardians ad litem” or creating “constructive trusts.”

Who understands a 1.1-hour billing entry for “Analysis of North Carolina civil procedure rules to determine form of affidavit for submission of letters rogatory to serve subpoena duces tecum”?

Baffling bills are a win/win. If a client calls with questions about the charges, that’s a billing event. And the more confusing they are, the longer the call.

No one likes this shit. It’s offensive, backhanded and creepy. And what’s its root cause? The billable hour. A compensation system built to reward inefficiency, married to a profession providing endless pretexts for needless work and granting its abusers impenetrable deniability.

I’d say aggressive self-policing is the answer, but that’s as likely to succeed in the litigation business as it did in investment banking. The only solution is to completely align the client’s interests with those of its lawyers. Incentivize counsel to dispose of cases as fast and cheaply as possible, the way they would if they were paying the fees.

And the only way to do that is to get rid of the billable hour.

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Post image for Seven Species of Legal Website Trolls

Let’s face a fact: Most of the time lawyers are billing they’re not doing legal work at all. They’re playing on the internet, often reading “blawgs” or any of the numerous lawyer chat boards that have sprung up since the glory days of the original “Greedy Associates” site, when Y2K was our biggest national concern.

And with the proliferation of these sites, so to have come the trolls—those under-the-bridge dwelling miscreants who live for nothing but the satisfaction of aggravating, irritating and insulting as many people as they can via the comments sections of blawgs and threads on chat boards.

We’ve decided to sketch out the prime offenders. For your reading pleasure (bill as “.3 – Misc. Research re: Penske suit”), here are the seven species of legal website troll:

1“This Site Sucks” Guy. Responds to every post on abovethelaw.com with a comment about how “This site used to be funny, but sucks now.” Never explains why it was better before or why it’s not funny now. Or why he nevertheless keeps reading it.

Hobbies: compulsively reading abovethelaw.com; compulsively commenting on abovethelaw.com

Bridge Under Which He Resides: abovethelaw.com, exclusively

2Grammar Teacher. No original thought or criticism of anything in the story or the preceding comments in the thread. Just a sniffy, self-aggrandizing little note about how someone in a previous comment used “it’s” where “its” was proper. And therefore is not, and never will be, partner material.

Hobbies: Font-surfing; complaining to IT department about how WordPerfect form of Courier New was superior to MSWord’s; reading latest edition of Service Partner Weekly (Non-Equity Edition)

Favorite Bridges: abovethelaw.com; Infirmation.com

3“First!” Guy. The Forrest Gump of legal chat board trolls. Pathologically follows website, responding immediately to every new story with “First!” or some variation on it. Amusing when the reflexive “I’m firsty!” or “These pretzels are making me firsty!” immediately follows story on an office shooting or a noted public interest lawyer’s recent demise from stomach cancer.

Hobbies: Ritalin; Bingo; Pavlovian feedback loops

Preferred Bridge: abovethelaw.com

4“Pwned” Guy. Only appears in flame wars between commenters. Offers single-word replies in any exchange where one commenter bests another; ”Pwned!” or ”Pwn3d!” (Hacker-speak for “Burn!” or “You been served!”) Clearly buys IT manager’s stories about scoring “boy-band ass.”

Hobbies: World of Warcraft; Masturbation

Bridges of Choice: Autoadmit.com; JDunderground.com

5Reverend Kane. This poster is the internet equivalent of Reverend Kane, the walking skeleton who comes to the door of the house in Poltergeist and starts screaming hysterically, “You’re going to die!  All of you are going to die!” Any time Kane sees a story or comment about alternative careers for lawyers, he immediately posts a litany of reasons anyone who even attempts to leave the field for something better will fail, contract a loathsome disease and die penniless, alone and cursing the moment he considered abandoning The Law.

Hobbies: Digging his rut until he reaches China

Bridges Under Which He Seethes: abovethelaw.com; Infirmation.com

6The “TTT” Brigade. This species responds to any post or story suggesting career dissatisfaction with a screed explaining why the poster or subject of the story is clearly “TTT” material—one who attended a “third tier toilet” law school.  Confusion abounds, however, as in recent years the term has been used so frequently and for so many purposes (in many cases randomly and with no apparent meaning at all) that it’s basically become a sign of chat board Tourette’s.

Hobbies: Attending miserable TTT law school; Nihilist Society

Favored Bridges: Autoadmit.com; JDunderground.com

7The Rapierist Wit. This Casanova uses the chat board to woo fellow classmates, offering wry witticisms on their previous dating misadventures:

Learnedhandjob: You see that chick in Torts with the huge rack?
Jackoff: Her name’s Marissa. She fucked like five guys in the class above us. Loves it in the ass.
Learnedhandjob: I’d fucking hit that shit till it was raw, yo.
Jackoff: Fucking TTT bitch! Assplay = Pwned!

Hobbies: Catching, mutilating stray cats; stalking

Home Bridge: Autoadmit.com