Explaining decision-making authority

In my experience, newer associates often have challenges in determining what they do and don’t have the authority to do.  Some may take on too little authority, undermining their usefulness to more senior lawyers who need not be consulted about every decision, and others may take on too much, possibly compromising strategic decisions that should be the senior lawyer’s call.

Senior lawyers bear much responsibility for these missteps, because they should have the foresight and ability to define what authority the lawyers they supervise may exercise.  However, all too often, everyone assumes that everyone is in agreement on what’s appropriate — right until the assumption comes crashing down in a rant of frustration at being disturbed yet again “for nothing” or a ballistic explosion at finding out that an incurable decision has been made without a full appreciation for its impact.

I’ve been reading a marvelous book recently: Fierce Conversations: Achieving Success at Work and in Life One Conversation at a Time, by Susan Scott.  In addition to setting forth a valuable approach to conversations that facilitate exploration of the truth and collaborative problem-solving, Scott sets out a Decision Tree that supervising lawyers can use to explain a junior lawyer’s scope of authority — quickly, simply, and in a framework that permits easy shorthand reference in the future.

Scott’s Decision Tree comprises 4 categories of decisions (quoted from page 119, Fierce Conversations):

Leaf Decisions: Make the decision.  Act on it.  Do not report the action you took.

Branch Decisions: Make the decision.  Act on it.  Report the action you took daily, weekly, or monthly.

Trunk Decisions: Make the decision.  Report your decision before you take action.

Root Decisions: Make the decision jointly, with input from many people.  These are the decisions that, if poorly made and implemented, could cause major harm to the organization.

It’s quickly apparent how these categories can be used in the practice setting.  In the context of litigation, for instance, a partner might identify deciding whether documents are relevant and thus to be produced as leaf decisions, deciding what witnesses to interview as branch decisions, preparing discovery requests as trunk decisions, and deciding whether to move for a temporary injunction as a root decision.  As the associate advances, more and more decisions will become leaf and branch decisions, which is a strong indication that the associate is becoming more skilled and thus merits more authority.

This same principle is useful in a wide variety of other settings.  Suppose, for example, that you had decided to embark on a marketing program, and you decided to mail firm literature to some unidentified people and to invite others to lunch, to accept some requests to speak at CLE meetings or to write articles, and to use your box seats at a sporting event to thank or to woo particular clients.  The Decision Tree formula would permit you to delegate this process to a large extent to your assistant by explaining which steps you want her to undertake on her own without reporting back (sending out the marketing materials to new contacts), which you want her to do and to let you know about (setting up lunches with those in a designated group), which you want her to filter and then check with you about (“I don’t think you’ll want to speak at these conferences, but client XYZ always attends this one, so you may want to consider that”), and which decisions require input from you and perhaps others (which clients and colleagues should be invited to the playoffs).

Think today about how you can use Scott’s Decision Tree to clarify your own scope of authority and that of others with whom you work.

How important are your clients?

It should go without saying that client service is the bottom-line, critical piece of practice that cannot be overlooked.  Unfortunately, that message does seem to be overlooked in some areas.  At the risk of stating the obvious, clients are an attorney’s lifeblood.  Without clients, practicing law is impossible.  That makes your clients pretty important, doesn’t it?  And yet, lawyers all too often unintentionally teach their clients that they aren’t important.  Failing to keep a client up-to-date on the latest developments in his case (or letting her know that there aren’t any developments, and why), returning phone calls slowly if at all, rushing during conversations, and the like will quickly convince a client that you’re not interested in the client or his case.

I’d intended to write a post to discuss ideas about how lawyers can provide consistently excellent client service, but while going through my Bloglines subscriptions, I ran across Dan Hull’s What About Clients? 12 Rules of Client Service.  These rules deftly require a seamless blend of “client service activity” with everyday work.  (In other words, it’s about how to “be” excellent client service through the work you do and the way you do it.)  While I don’t necessarily agree with all aspects of the rules (contrary to Rule #1, for instance, I do think a lawyer can provide excellent client service to a client she doesn’t like, probably even to a client she actively dislikes, though that’s certainly not fun and quite challenging), living by these rules will lead to truly great client service.

Post # 100… Discussing my own work/life balance

I’m astonished to be hitting post #100 this morning.  How time does fly!

I’ve been thinking lately, with something between amusement and horror, about my own work/life balance.  One of the things I’ve learned as a coach is that I very often end up working with people who face the same issues that confront me.  No idea why that is, but I’ve observed it repeatedly.  Lately, work/life balance has hit at the top of that chart.

I thought it might be helpful to be open about my own work/life balance challenges just so you readers will be aware that I’m not writing about work/life balance from a white, fluffy cloud somewhere in the sky that allows me to observe the issue without ever being embroiled in it.  Some days, I wish that were the case!

Because this is a me-centric post (using self as an example), I’ve taken the unusual step of breaking the post here.  If you’d like to know more, read on.  And otherwise, see you in Wednesday’s post!

Read more

Litigation pet peeve

It’s come to my attention again that many, perhaps most, litigators step all over one of my pet peeves.  My pet peeves aren’t a big deal to anyone but me, but committing this particular error should be.

I hate, detest, despise hearing an attorney, especially a litigator in a jury trial, refer to his or her client as “my client.”  It’s nails on a blackboard.

Before you dismiss this as a bizarre quirk, let me explain why this is so.

Litigators spend a great deal of time thinking about how they come across to a jury or a judge, and they often coach a client on what to wear, how to sit, how to react to what unfolds in trial, and so on.  Although exceptions exist for every rule, generally the lawyer’s job is to stand with and for her client, and there’s a certain identification that occurs between client and attorney.  Counsel is sharp, intelligent, respectful, etc., so the client might be seen to be so as well.  There’s a game of sorts played out in this: the jury sees the lawyer and the client and their interaction, and to the naked eye it should appear that the lawyer is entirely convinced of the merit of the client’s case, that the lawyer stands with the client without hesitation.  (Indeed, that’s how it should be, not just appear, but that’s another post.)

But the moment a lawyer references “my client,” the game is over and the image is shattered.  The lawyer isn’t acting on his client’s behalf because the client is right; the lawyer is being paid.  There’s an immediate distancing that occurs as soon as “my client” is uttered, and the lawyer becomes less an advocate and more a paid mouthpiece.  I’ve heard some really marvelous arguments splintered by those two words.

Think about the final moments of a criminal trial, when the jury foreperson is about to announce the verdict.  The judge asks the defendant to rise.  And who stands?  The defendant and counsel.  That simple act defines representation to me.  No, counsel won’t serve time alongside a convicted defendant, but for that one critical moment of trial, counsel and defendant operate as one.   The same principle applies in a civil case.  Uttering “my client” is, to me, antithetical to that bond between lawyer and client.

It should be a privilege to represent someone.  Don’t stain that privilege by verbally breaking the wholehearted advocacy with  a reference to “my client”.

Consistency in rainmaking efforts; making the most of the next 2 months

Tom Collins posted last month on The 10 to 15 Minute Rainmaking Plan (no longer available).  The principle is that marketing activity fits nicely into any lawyer’s schedule when arranged in 10- to 15-minute phone calls,  and that the benefits of these calls accrue when done daily.  He suggests several questions that would lead very nicely into a focused conversation that will at least deepen a relationship and could perhaps lead to new business.  Most helpfully, Tom also suggests ways that your assistant can help you identify the people you might call each day.

As I’ve noted before, marketing guru Jay Conrad Levinson has observed, “a mediocre marketing program with commitment will always prove more profitable than a brilliant marketing program without commitment.”  Tom’s post suggests a much better than mediocre way to arrange a program you can work consistently.  Try it for a few months and see what happens.  I suspect you’ll be pleased with the results.

And, as today is November 1, it’s time to pause and ask two questions: What did I intend to accomplish in 2006?  Have I done it?  The next two months are a good time to press so you can close out the year on a high note.  Especially with the holidays coming up, it’s easy to plan a fresh start for January and to spend the rest of this year focused only on practice deadlines — the “urgent” rather than the “important”.  But wouldn’t you rather start 2007 continuing a high point rather than having to reconstruct your mothballed professional development or client development plans?  Give it some thought.

The Curmudgeon’s Guide to Practicing Law

The Wall Street Journal law blog is featuring Mark Herrmann’s The Curmudgeon’s Guide to Practicing Law this week.   The series started today with a review and an excerpt from the book on defending depositions, and the blog promises that excerpts will continue through the week.  If you’d like to go whole hog and buy the book now, you can find it on Amazon for a better price than the ABA website offers.  (As a sidenote, Amazon pairs it with Bryan Garner’s The Winning Brief: 100 Tips for Persuasive Briefing in Trial and Appellate Courts, another terrific resource.)   I’d resisted posting about this book primarily because it seems that everyone else has already done so, but the tidbits that the WSJ blog promises this week will likely help readers decide to purchase the book.

When I began working at Jones Day, Herrmann’s marvelous article This Is What I’m Thinking: A Dialogue Between Partner and Associate . . . From The Partner (published Fall 1998 in Litigation magazine and, sadly, unavailable online) was provided to all associates.  I can’t even guess how many times I referred to that article and several others Herrmann wrote about brief writing; The Curmudgeon’s Guide expands on the kind of tips provided in those articles and, indeed, attempts to introduce the reader with the principles that will permit her to have a successful and rewarding career.

I highly recommend the book because it’s an easy and enjoyable read, and it’s packed with useful advice.  And, in the end, The Curmedgeon’s Guide delivers an unwavering focus on the importance of excellent client service, an appropriate reminder for every lawyer.  Check out the excerpts on the WSJ law blog, and then pick up your own copy.  This is one of the rare law practice how-to books that belongs on every lawyer’s shelf.

Public perception of lawyers

Someone recently found this blog with a search on “All Lawyers Are Assholes.”  Yes, complete with the initial caps.  After I quit laughing (and got over being briefly miffed that this search implies that I, too, am an asshole simply because I’m a lawyer), I started wondering whether the searcher was looking for confirmation of his/her assertion.  I’d love to know whether s/he found that confirmation.

Years ago, after I’d been in practice for a few years, I spent a weekend with a college roommate and met a bunch of her friends.  As I introduced myself and admitted that I’m a lawyer, people’s attitudes shifted subtly.  Sometimes, I’d get hit with a request for free legal advice: “Y’see, I have this problem with my [employer, service provider, spouse, whatever] and I’m wondering….”  Others, especially medical professionals who weren’t doctors, would almost shudder and back off.  (Seriously, I’m not making this up, and I’ve never even worked on a med mal case!)  And a few would ask about my practice, continue the conversation, and eventually circle back to law by saying, “You know, you just don’t seem like a lawyer.”  I never knew quite what to do with that, or even whether it was intended as a compliment or an insult.

It’s always seemed to me that it’s a privilege to be a lawyer.  We have the ability to effect change in society more directly than many other professionals, we have the skill and training to recognize when something just isn’t right and to work to make it right, and we have the opportunity to help people who need it.  Strangely, that isn’t how the public usually perceives lawyers, and sometimes I wonder whether it’s how the profession perceives itself.

Attorneys sometimes behave as if practice is a burden, a horrible way to make a living because of the competing demands of practice and life and satisfying clients.  And, no doubt, sometimes it is a burden, but it’s a voluntary burden and it’s important for us to recognize that if the burden is too heavy, if it outweighs the privilege, plenty of other jobs are available that would reap the benefits of a law degree without actually requiring practice.

Too often, we view our work as hours to be put in, a way to make more and more money.  Reaping financial reward isn’t wrong.  But I submit that something is off-kilter when a profession becomes all about money, and I’d argue that something has gone very wrong when the public perception is that a lawyer can be bought, that the outcome of a legal dispute depends most on which party has the higher-paid lawyer.  This is a bigger problem than I’m prepared to address today, not only because of the public perception but also because so many new lawyers face the squeeze of student debt and salary lower than they’d been led to expect.

Finally, there’s a huge negativity surrounding legal practice.  We lawyers both propogate and, in my view, suffer from this negativity.

What lawyers believe about practicing law has a huge impact on how we behave, and how we behave has significant influence on how we are perceived.  Are you contributing to a positive or negative public perception of lawyers?

Working hard vs. working smart

Have you heard this distinction before?  All sorts of management experts talk about how people can work more efficiently, more effectively, maximizing the results of time.  Some of them even have good ideas.

I’ve been thinking about what it means to say that practicing law is hard work.  I don’t have any question that it is challenging and demanding, for reasons that I’ve mentioned numerous times.  What I find myself wondering is whether it’s possible to “work smart” in practice; I think the answer is a qualified yes.

Working smart means managing your physical environment.  If you take the time to keep your desk clear, so it’s always easy to locate the files and the resources you need.  Nothing wastes time like clutter.  The simple act of taking an extra 5-10 minutes to clear and tidy your work area at the end of the day can yield significant time savings.  I had to learn this the hard way, but having learned it, it’s become a standard for myself in the office.

Working smart means managing energy.  If I’m exhausted and I try to power through rather than resting, chances are good that it’ll take me more time than usual to accomplish anything.  If I’m on a deadline, the adrenaline will carry and cancel the “dead woman drag” — but if it’s an average Wednesday, I didn’t sleep well, I have a headache, and I notice that I’m reading things three times and still not registering, taking a pause will be well worth my time.  When I have plenty of energy and get in the flow of work, I often find that my productivity shoots up and I’m able to accomplish remarkable tasks, so I do my best to take advantage of my energy rhythms.

Working smart means managing commitments.  It’s easy to say yes to every demand, but it isn’t smart.  Making intentional and purposeful decisions about which commitments to accept and which to decline allows me to avoid the frazzled, frantic pace that undermines good work.

Working smart means managing people.  Good delegation enhances effective work.  Whether it’s requesting research from a more junior lawyer or asking an assistant to draft routine communications for my review and editing, my time is freed up so I can concentrate on doing the things that others can’t do.

Does any of this mean that it’s possible to take shortcuts and reap the rewards of practice without putting in plenty of time and effort?  Absolutely not.  But attention to smart management will make the time and effort you put into your practice pay maximum rewards.

Look for what’s right.

It’s often easy, and rather in vogue, to think that practicing law is a drain, a burden, incompatible with having a personal life.  Sometimes that’s true.  If it’s more often than not true for any individual lawyer, there’s a problem that needs a solution — a new way of approaching practice or managing your energy, a new job, perhaps, or a new area of practice, or possibly a career other than practicing law.  But it’s a continuum, with “perfect” untouched on one end and “unbearably horrible” untouched on the other end.

Where on the continuum are you?  Very often we diagnose based on what’s wrong.  But today, I’d like to suggest a different set of questions.  What’s right in your practice?  What do you enjoy?  When are you at your best in practice?  What gives you the rush, the thrill, the joy of being a lawyer?  And how do you get more of the good stuff?

It’s just as important to evaluate what’s going well as it is to identify and correct what isn’t.  In fact, it may be more important, simply because we tend to find what we expect to find.  Practice is challenging, but if you expect it to be unpleasant, chances are strong that it will be.  With that in mind, it makes sense to spend some time identifying the good parts of practice so you have a better opportunity to expect and recognize the recurring good things.  For examples of what some lawyers see as being right in practice, visit Stephanie West Allen’s Legal Highlights series here, here, and here.

“Work-life balance nonsense”

JD Hull has a terrific blog called “What About Clients?(tm) ”  You can probably guess the focus, and I encourage you to check it out.

A recent post titled WAC?’s Usual ‘Muscle Boutique’ Rant Gains Currency? includes the following:

It’s time for lawyers with the right credentials . . . [to] chuck . . . your work-life balance nonsense (the first 8 to 10 years for associates, and lawyering done right after that, should be hard work even for the gifted) . . . .

Work/life balance isn’t the focus of Hull’s post, but I was struck by his comment because I think it typifies the negative view of work/life balance that I described here, in which “work/life balance” is taken to mean a desire to work less and still reap the rewards of working hard.

We all have some work/life balance.  By definition, whether it’s 50/50 or 90/10, there’s a “balance” even if the ratio is markedly uneven.  The question then becomes, what does each lawyer want his or her balance to be?  What are the lawyer’s priorities and values?  As I said in my previously-cited post, work/life balance can never outweigh the need to provide robust, excellent client service.  But it’s possible (and necessary) to adjust the balance in whatever direction is most desirable for a particular lawyer and still to provide excellent service.   Such an adjustment will lead to certain consequences, whether it’s rapid advancement in career, a deeply satisfying personal life, handsome or sub-optimal earnings, burnout or boredom, or most likely some shifting mix of these and other consequences.

And it’s important to recognize that work/life balance doesn’t necessarily mean working less.  Just as there are lawyers who want to work only a 40-hour week, there are lawyers who would hate such a restricted practice, a point that Stephanie West Allen makes vividly in her post Hot Worms and Workaholics: Let the Workers Be!  Work/life balance is all about finding what works for each lawyer, whether that’s working a “little” or working a “lot”.  The question is what makes for a satisfying life; practice is one component of that for lawyers, but how much of a component will vary from person to person.

I agree with Hull that good lawyering is hard work.  There’s no question that practicing law well is demanding.  It requires consistently excellent performance with very little margin for error, it’s intellectually rigorous, and it’s tough to keep up with the needs of multiple clients and to work effectively in what often feels like not enough time to do all that needs to be done.  And client needs are and must be paramount.  Even so, the suggestion to chuck “work/life balance nonsense” doesn’t ring true to me.  I’d say instead, chuck the fantasy that practicing law is easy.  Look for a way to have a satisfying career and a satisfying personal life, but don’t expect it to be an easy or static path, and don’t expect what works for one lawyer to work for another.