By now everyone on LinkedIn has heard about Jon, a Cleveland lawyer who wrote a rather nasty email to a recently departed colleague who, having returned from her maternity leave, gave notice that she was leaving for another firm. The backlash was furious. Jon lost his job rather quickly.
From the flood of comments on social media, the idea surfaced that it is likely that Jon’s behaviour was not an aberration, which got me thinking about some of the people who I ran across while practicing law.
Back when I was practicing law, now and then I would get a call from a client who needed a litigator. But not just any type of litigator. A male litigator. (Interestingly enough, every such call was from a man. I never did have a woman request a litigator of a particular gender.)
Some years ago my firm had a lawyer’s retreat. We invited a speaker who gave a philosophical presentation about being mindful about how you use your time. His theme was that you have to constantly ask yourself, “what is the best use of my time right now?”
Here are some of the questions potential clients asked me back when I was practicing law and the answers that I wanted to give them, but never did:
Q. How much will it cost to draft a shareholder’s agreement?
A. If you are shopping for professional services based on price, I really do not want you for a client. I suggest that you find a lawyer who will draft the agreement for you for $750.00 and pray that you never have a dispute with your partner.
There is a fair amount of talk right now about whether law firms should be required to pay articling students a minimum wage.
But isn’t this so-called ‘debate’ about whether the Law Society should legislate a minimum wage for articling students just the tip of the iceberg? What about the institutionalized discrimination created by the Employment Standards Act (Ontario) against lawyers and articling students (together with architects, accountants, engineers, teachers, surveyors, and others)?
In Part One of The View From The End of The Road, Old Murray (“OM”) went back in time to speak to Young Murray (“YM”) about the beginning of his journey in the legal profession and concluded that Young Murray just did not get it.
Now, Old Murray is going to check in to see whether everything got better when Young Murray became a partner. To read part Two, click here:
My partner Gordon used to travel to Florida each winter on vacation with his biggest client.
Gordon would pay for every meal for both families and submit for reimbursement from the firm. When asked by the Managing Partner whether he had any friends who were not clients to vacation with, he answered rhetorically, “what better friend could there be than someone who helps me put bread on the table to feed my family?”
The thing about starting a new career is that we often do it when we are young and have little experience in life or in business. So, we look to those who came before us to show us the path to success. We assume that the older and wiser folks know what they are doing. That is our first mistake.
Read about it here.
As an Anglo born and raised in Montreal and living in Ontario for many years, I consider myself to be a political refugee from Quebec. (Some would say that I overstate my immigrant credentials somewhat.)
I moved from Montreal to Toronto in 1979 at twenty-four years of age with my brand-new law degree in hand to article for a mid-sized Toronto firm. It was my third trip to Toronto. I had been in the city for a weekend when I was eight years old and again for a few days for articling interviews.
Early in my career, one of my clients was the owner of a chain of retail bakeries. One day I attended at one of the stores with the President of the corporation, whose name was Stewart. When we were ready to leave the store, Stewart remembered that he was out of bread, selected a loaf, and paid the employee behind the counter for it.