The Big Bad Law Illusion

I work at a “big” law firm. More appropriately, a “Big Law” firm. I have done so pretty much every day since I graduated in 2006. If you believe social media, Big Law is a narrowly definable entity, and the fact that I work in Big Law means a number of different things, most of which have remained unchanged since I started: I am overworked, I only care about billing hours, my firm only cares about me billing hours, and I am likely a derelict father, husband, son, and friend. Also, that I am almost certainly miserable.

But I’m not—I’m not any of these things. And I don’t think I’m alone.

Nonetheless, whenever you ask a lawyer how they are doing—in a hallway, passing on the street—you receive the same response, “You know, living the dream,” as they segue into how hard they work and how awful last week was, how terrible next week is sure to be.

So I get it: The world isn’t victimizing Big Law. It’s us. We do it to ourselves, often with a deluge of defeatist negativity. We tell our co-workers’ kids not to go to law school. We bemoan the fact that we did. We dream of being bankers, analysts or consultants.

But the “living the dream” humdrummery of the legal profession is more universal than just Big Law. It’s everywhere. And it creates the illusion that, almost irrespective of size, all law is the same. It’s not Big Law or small law or medium law that’s flawed. Lawyers will often leave you thinking that all law is, essentially, “Bad Law.”

But we don’t really think that. It’s not right, and we’re smarter than that. All law is not bad law. But it can be, if you let it.

Don’t. Here’s how.

Choose to Be Good

The Michael Jordan documentary “The Last Dance” dropped in the midst of the pandemic, and we were all given a close-up view of Michael Jordan, and a shallow glimpse at what it took for him to be great. Hard work is a given, but the meme that perpetuated was not a GIF of Jordan working hard. It was, instead, MJ watching an iPad and declaring, “I took that personally.”

The meme illustrates one of the motivating theses for Jordan’s greatness: Everything anyone did to him, even imagined, was personal. As a result, everything motivated and justified his revenge and, in so doing, both justified his actions and gave rise to his greatness.

Jordan’s take-no-prisoners cunning is part of the evidence for what has become the mythology of greatness, i.e., that you can will yourself to greatness, but to do so, you must be so single-mindedly maniacal about it that there is no room for anything else, including goodness. MJ may be a good person, but he doesn’t have to be, because he is great. If his goodness was sacrificed on the altar of greatness, then so be it.

But here’s the thing: Greatness may be the product of commitment and hard work, but ultimately it is a status that is evaluated and thrust upon you by others. We know this, because we see it everywhere: history books, political commentary, sports TV, and every day life. Is Tom Brady great? Can you be great without winning a championship? An election? If you were once great, but faltered, are you still great? These are questions debated, and ultimately decided, by others. Not the people pursuing greatness. They don’t get to decide. Neither do you.

But you can decide to be good. You can decide to do the right thing. The ethical thing. The moral thing. Personally, professionally, to people you know, to strangers, to friends, to enemies, to teammates, and to opponents. Every day, you can choose to be good to them all.

It is important to understand this, because not everyone is going to be good to you. And you will be tempted to “take that personally.” And sometimes—maybe not often—you will be tempted to respond in kind, which is to say that you will be tempted to respond unkindly.

Don’t.

Choose to be good. There is no altar of greatness. You cannot sacrifice enough of yourself to ensure that you will be great, or even that you will get your desired outcome. All of that is beyond your control.

How you treat other people is not. And, in a profession where justice depends on being able to trust your opponents at least as much as your allies, always choose to be trustworthy, moral, and ethical. Know that, even if you do, you are going to be mistreated or taken advantage of, and defeated, on occasion. But if you use that as an excuse, you will lose at least twice.

Choose to be good. Good lawyers make “good law.”

Adhere to Priorities

I think about my own value and success in terms of how capable I am of making and adhering to my own priorities. It would be narcissistic to argue that my priorities are not impacted by extrinsic pressures. But even while I recognize that my priorities are necessarily impacted by these considerations, they are not driven by them.

I am the driver. I decide what I care about. I decide what matters.

Setting priorities is the simpler of the two tasks. Adhering to them is the real trial. It’s easy to say something is a priority; it’s far harder to actually make it one. And it’s easy to make excuses. To convince ourselves that something is a priority, but never actually make it one. To negotiate.

At the same time, adherence does not require perfection. Instead, you just have to strive to be better. All the time. That requires having some “non-negotiables”—things you can never abide, but it also requires flexibility and empathy. I bridge the gap with a simple rule: if I can do something in service of my priorities, I do. Every time. That way, when I can’t, I know that it’s not merely because I don’t want to.

Have a Third Leg to Your Stool

A mentor once told me: “To be happy, think about life as a three-legged stool: family and friends that you love and respect, a career that challenges you, and a hobby you are passionate about. And a three-legged stool only works if all three are equal.”

He didn’t invent the principle. But that doesn’t make it less true. I think of this conversation every time I make a decision to prioritize a personal interest or hobby. Instead of thinking about these things as luxuries, I am reminded that they are a necessity.

Often this concept is over-simplified into a debate over work-life balance, as if one’s existence is a dichotomy with “work” on one side and “life” on the other. The truth is, there can be no balance without the third leg of the stool. That means it has to be important. And you have to make time for it. But it will only work if all three legs exist, and if all three legs are equal. It’s your job to make them so.

Make Your Own Rules

You also have to know what you’re doing. You have to know the necessary skills, rules, and objectives of your trade. You have to know the expectations of you. You have to know how to communicate in all directions.

But once that is done, you have to start making the rules. There will be plenty of people who want to help you by telling you what you could or should do. You are skilled, so you don’t really have to listen to any of them.

But you should. The legal profession includes a diverse array of people, opinions, priorities, and goals. So listen more than you speak. At all times, but definitely when you are figuring out what you want to do and how to do it.

At the same time, never forget that this is your career and you must be the architect of it. Make your own rules. Design your own career. Follow your own path.

As long as you do that, no law will ever be bad law, “Big” or otherwise. It will always be your law, which sounds like pretty good law to me.

The opinions expressed here are reflective of the author, and not the firm.

Brandon Renken is a partner with Mayer Brown.

Reprinted with permission from the August 29th edition of Texas Lawyer © 2024 ALM Properties, Inc. All rights reserved. Further duplication without permission is prohibited.