associates

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Post image for The Trouble With First-Year Associates

A new Wall Street Journal article found a high number of corporate clients refusing to pay for first or second-year associate work. There were a couple of ideas thrown out as to how to solve this. One of them relating to adopting a UK-type apprenticeship program. I hate the British, and I don’t like the idea of us doing anything they do. Isn’t that why we drive on the right and put our door handles on the right?  I figured I’d throw my hat in the ring with a few foolproof ways to solve this problem. Yes, I agree it’s a problem. First-year associates are almost entirely worthless, except for the attractive ones.
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Post image for I’m a Sidekick Among Superheroes

QI’m a mid-level associate in a big firm, where I’ve done well. I generally have no complaints except one: I’m surrounded by brilliant and powerful people, all of whom are incredible attorneys. Two attorneys on my floor advise Fortune 100 CEOs. One attorney regularly advises Congress, another is friends with very well-connected politicians. My complaint, actually, is not much of a complaint but a realization. I am a sidekick among superheroes. While most days it does not bother me (and I genuinely enjoy the success of my peers and colleagues, and they obviously care for me and for my career), there are some nights at home over a glass of wine where I wonder: could I do more and “be more,” especially at a firm with less notable talent?
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Post image for File This Under ‘No Shit, Sherlock’

This just in. BigLaw firms can increase their standing among overworked associates by 1) raising associate pay and 2) letting associates know what’s going on. In a recent American Lawyer profile, Foley Hoag partners and associates talk about how “increased communication” is one reason the firm moved up 92 places in an annual beauty pageant known as the associates survey. That, and “restoring” starting associate pay to $160,000. And moving other associate pay levels up to “market level.” With the pay bumps, American Lawyer offers up this startling conclusion: “[m]oney makes associates happy with their firms, too.”
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Post image for Amoeba Racing and Other Idiotic Law Firm Team-Building Exercises

I normally don’t go negative. Meaning that, like most of my law practice management colleagues, I like to list all sorts of things you should do and even sprinkle a few exclamation points in my explanations!! Y’know, the whole “Top 5 Things You Should Remember Occasionally.” But theoretically there are things big firms should not do, such as spank clients or add a law firm taco bar. Or at least not do them without having consulted an expert like me. Which gets us back to my thoughts on the worst team-building exercises for law firms. Sure, most team-building exercises work well, like tailgating in a parking lot before a partner’s big ERISA trial. But others are not such a good idea. Here are five.
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Post image for Top 5 Hobbies for Big Firm Associates

Many big firms today take pride from employing well-rounded associates who can fit in at the opera just as easily as at the theatre. But outside of the traditional activities of a highly-paid professional, what are good hobbies for big firm associates? What should they do to burn off the extra half-hour at the end of the week? Competitive eating and reality television show appearances are now passe. Luckily, at Big Legal Brain Analytics, we’ve studied the hobbying habits of law firm associates and have compiled the top five acceptable hobbies for big firm associates.

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Post image for I Associate with the Dweebs

QI’m a second year associate at a mid-size Manhattan firm. I’m not concerned about the work part of the job. I get plenty of it and, surprisingly, most of it is interesting. But whenever I’m out with my colleagues I look around and notice how many of them are dweebs. All they do is talk about work. Most of that talk is about what a partner did or did not do, or what so-and-so wore the other day. Any sense of humor is wasted on how many typos someone found in a memorandum of law. Har har. I’m thinking of just not hanging out anymore after work with these guys but wondering what harm it would do in the long run.

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Post image for The Declining Value of a Midlevel Associate

As a mediocre midlevel at a top law firm, I haven’t really considered plans for my “future.” I always sort of let the tide take me to this place of bitterness. However, many of my friends are starting to make “plans.” Actually, it seems like most of them have already mapped out their lives.

Of my closest 4 friends from law school: One moved to a small firm outside of NY because he’s married with kids (and therefore dead to me), two have moved to smaller firms in Miami because it’s a better life and they are from there and they are basically cheesy Miami dudes at heart (not dead to me, because I need a place to stay in Florida), and one works at a BigLaw firm in NYC, but he’s looking to get out asap. He’s the one that is actually causing me to stress out, because he just enlightened me to the devaluation of a midlevel scale.

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Post image for Dreaming About Quitting the Law Firm

So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that’s on the worst day of my life.

—Peter Gibbons

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Post image for I Wanted to Go to the World Cup

QMore than two years ago, I began planning a trip to see the World Cup in South Africa. I cleared the trip with all the appropriate supervisors at my firm a little more than a year ago. I had planned on taking off two weeks (because you don’t fly all the way to Africa just to watch a soccer game and go home). I had a safari and some other side trips planned after the match. I know it’s a lot of time to take off, which is why I gave the firm so much notice, but it’s a big firm, so it shouldn’t have been too hard to find someone to cover for me while I was away.  I’m sure you can guess where this is going.

A week ago, I was told I would have to cancel my trip because some work had come up. But, not just any work—work for a department I’m not a part of. I work on the corporate side, so things have been a bit slow, but litigation is fairly busy, and they wanted a “corporate perspective” on one of their matters. I tried explaining that I had been approved to take the time off and there were at least a dozen other people with enough free time who the litigation department could use. No dice. Apparently I’m the only man for the job. (I’d be flattered if I wasn’t so pissed off.)

And it gets worse. I was initially told I’d be compensated for my vacation costs that I couldn’t get refunded. But, the HR department had a different story. According to some pencil-pushing shrew, it is law firm policy that employees must purchase only fully refundable airline tickets, so basically, I wasn’t going to be compensated for my airfare. If you’ve ever bought fully refundable tickets, you know they’re a whole lot more expensive than regular seats, and when you have approval for your trip a year in advance, you don’t think you need them.

A junior partner who I work with a lot heard what was going on and offered to help me get compensated, and it’s a nice gesture, but he’s a service partner. How much pull can someone have if they still have to bill 3500 hours a year? In a better economy I would just quit. In fact, before all the finance jobs disappeared I had been planning to make the jump into banking. It doesn’t look like I’d be able to find another job for a while if I quit, but it doesn’t really feel right letting my firm steamroll right over me. Is there anything I can do other than just accept my sad fate?

Oh, and just to add insult to injury, the partner who ruined my World Cup trip explained that the deadline on the project was set in stone, couldn’t be moved, because after that date he’d be on his way to the Shanghai World Expo. Please tell me there’s an option other than just sucking it up.

AThis might surprise you, but you have two avenues for recourse. The first is promissory estoppel. The firm made you a promise that you would be able to take time off to go on this trip, and you reasonably relied on that promise in incurring travel expenses, and now the firm has broken its promise. You’re entitled to be compensated not just for the costs of the trip, but the actual value of seeing the World Cup live. It’s a pretty open and shut case, and even a rookie litigator could win this one.

Your second claim is going to be a bit more tricky. Even though it may seem un-American, you actually have a legal right to your vacation time. Paid vacation is earned compensation just as much as your salary. The firm can no more deny you your vacation than it can decide to withhold your paycheck. You may need to make a good faith effort to use your vacation days later on in the year, but if the firm keeps insisting you stay in the office and your vacation days expire, you can sue and get compensated for them.

These are both entirely valid claims, except for one minor detail: this isn’t a first year contracts class, it’s the real world. So, yeah, you’re pretty much screwed and have absolutely zero recourse.  Really, the only thing you could do in retaliation is jump ship. But, as you’re aware, there’s not yet another ship to jump on to. Take the money that was once your vacation fund and start building a permanent vacation fund. Polish up your resume, and start contacting head hunters. The finance market is starting to recover, and jobs will be coming back. Maybe not right away, but within a year you might have a real shot at leaving.

The trouble is, if you’re like most people, you’ll stay angry for a few weeks, maybe even a few months, but eventually that anger will subside and you’ll go back to accepting the day to day drudgery of law, as if that’s the way things are supposed to be. Find a way to constantly remind yourself that you want out. Get a World Cup postcard and pin it to a bulletin board in your office. It will take a long time to find a new job, but if you can keep yourself motivated and actively looking, you will eventually find something. Keep some money in the bank so you can afford a pay cut if necessary, but most importantly, stay angry.

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Post image for Yeah, I Smoke—So Shoot Me

I’ve been a closet smoker for the past seven years. “Smoker” might not even be the right term. Every night after work, I’ll have 1-2 cigarettes before my roommate gets home, hop in the shower, and discretely hide this silly addiction from everyone I know. I may have hundreds of Facebook friends and a large family that, despite my chosen profession, loves me very much, but despite all these wonderful people in my life, I can count on two hands the number of people that know I smoke.

In fairness to real addictions, this is more of a habit. I’ve gone months without smoking during the past seven years.  I’ve run a marathon and have a much larger, more dependent addiction to caffeine than nicotine. Still, I keep this nasty little habit secreted away.

I have a friend who is starting at Gibson this year. Smartest person AND best writer I know. Republican. Great guy. 0% asshole. He smokes. And yet, despite having a much brighter career ahead of him than me, he treats his habit the opposite. He can count on two hands the number of people who DON’T know he smokes. (His mom and dad, basically.)

At my firm, quite a few secretaries and two (as Matthew Richardson hilariously put it) Dirty Old-Man Partners smoke openly. At any point during the workday, the building’s back loading dock is populated with a couple hourly employees or guys with their name on the door having a smoke break.  Afterwards, they re-enter the office—confidently—and resume whatever it is they do without anyone blinking an even slightly allergic eye.  There’s no shame. None of them douse themselves in a courtesy cloud of Febreze in an effort to smell less offensive. No one seems to asperse them in judgment and/or patronizing concerns for their health.

So, I definitely didn’t think it would’ve been that big of a deal when one night I broke down and…smoked where I eat, so to speak. It was almost 9:00 PM, and the office was empty with exception to the three guys I was working late with on a ridiculous client fire drill. Wanting a break that didn’t include eating any of the florescent-orange, iridescent pizza one of the partners’ secretaries (a smoker, btw) ordered for us before leaving for the night, I headed out to my car for a quick smoke.

Given my erstwhile mention of how much I appreciate my habit remaining just between me, myself and I, I removed my suit jacket and dress shirt and put them in my car to keep the evidence off me as best I could. I stood in my undershirt in a corner of the deserted parking garage.  No big deal. Til a female senior associate pulled in to fetch a file she forgot—her face immediately aghast through her Volvo window as if she caught me committing sexual assault.

She got out and shrilled, “I didn’t know you smoked!”

“I don’t. Normally. It’s just been a stressful night, and this seemed more satisfyingly destructive than cold pizza.”

Infuriated at how embarrassed I felt, put the cigarette out, tried more downplaying and prayed for the elevator to come so she could get on.

The next day, almost in perfectly timed increments, people would approach me to recite the same line I heard last night.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

The most vexatious part is that it’s always a statement asked as a question.

I quickly realized that the senior associate from the night before must have went into the office (after leaving me to stew in smoke and shame) and sent out a mass email of McCarthyism-like proportions to every person in the firm whose opinion I value.

Like any office rumor, my smoking was highly shocking and compelling—and all anyone can talk about. I hate it. Even more, I hate how much I hate it.  Why can’t I just not care?  I did nothing illegal or elicit.  And I know I would never call someone out like that.

I get that it’s no longer cool or acceptable to smoke, but why the hell can’t people just mind their own damn business? FML.