Rob was one of my favourite clients. He had intellectually challenging work, treated my whole team respectfully, gave me reasonable deadlines, and promptly paid all of his bills without question.
Yet, there were lawyers in my firm who did not like working for Rob, who, being smart and creative, would frequently propose unusual business structures or litigation strategies and then insist that we convince him why they would not work.
At my high school, athletics were valued above academics. I am pretty sure that we had the only ‘Reach for the Top’ team (an academic competition) which had a student who failed a grade one year and returned to the team the next year. Needless to say, our team did not win.
On the other hand, our school had three football teams, all of which won their respective divisions just about every year.
So, here is the situation. I am closing a deal with a senior partner from one of Canada’s largest law firms. Let’s call him “Big Law Guy.”
I am a senior partner myself, but with a medium-sized suburban law firm. By definition, he is supposed to be smarter than I am and his junior is supposed to be fortunate to be working for him instead of working with me.
It is an incontrovertible fact that young lawyers destined for private practice arrive at law firms without much clue as to how to practice law.
A lucky few are welcomed into a structured environment where good quality training, mentoring, and resources are provided to teach them their craft and to maintain quality control and client service while they learn.
When I entered law school, each year the most powerful law firm in Montreal would obtain from McGill Law School the names of the ten students with the highest grades in their first year of law school and write to them to offer them summer jobs. I received such a letter when I completed my first year of law school in 1976.
Had I gone to law school a few years earlier, I would not have received that letter, because the firm extending it had made it a practice to exclude Jews from the program.
I keep reading about mental health issues in the legal profession. Too many lawyers are terminally unhappy. The problem appears to be impossible to fix. Even The Washington Post just ran an article titled, “Want to be happy? Then don’t be a lawyer.”
Warning
This article has three parts. Do not act on the suggestions in the first part until you consider the advice in the second part and the rebuttal in the third part.
Part One: Murray’s Recommendations
Murray strongly recommends that articling students ask these probing questions and many similar ones before accepting a position:
Somewhere in some law firm’s ‘closed files’ archive, there is probably a file with my name on it. The subject matter line likely reads something like, “Possible Sexual Harassment Claim.”
When I retired from the practice of law in 2020, I could not have told you what NCA stands for. I am willing to bet that the majority of home-grown Canadian lawyers in private law firms are just as ignorant about this as I was.
On the other hand, I have never met an internationally trained lawyer who did not know what NCA stands for.
I recently went for a ‘preventative health examination,’ which is code for ‘private healthcare,’ which is something that is in fact available in Canada – to those who are willing and able to pay for it.
I was given a stress test which involved having me walk on a treadmill while hooked-up to a computer. Being me, I quipped to the technician that I was counting on her to make sure that I did not have a heart attack during the test. She reassured me that if I did, I would be in good hands, because ‘back home’ she was a cardiologist.
It is not a very well-kept secret that in Canada we make it difficult for immigrants to qualify to practice their professions.
So let’s talk about lawyers.