The Profit Imperative

The news out of Dewey & LeBoeuf--that 66 partners, or about one in five of their 350 partners, have seen their compensation cut over the past 15 months by up to 80%--begs for an explanation, or at least some commmentary. First, what's going on in the firm's own words:

The reductions are meant to weed out less-productive partners, firm Chairman Steven Davis tells The Am Law Daily.

Those affected by the "substantial performance-related reductions to their compensation" represent a wide range of practices, Davis says. The partners include some who have been practicing for 25 or more years.

Of the 66, the more fortunate are now taking home $25,000/month, the standard draw for partners. Lower-tier partners have faced more drastic reductions, with monthly draws of as little as $10,000, or an annual total of $120,000 -- $40,000 less than the starting salary for a 2008 incoming first-year.

Both Davis and executive director Stephen DiCarmine characterize the recent actions as an intensification of the firm's long-term strategy of replacing poor performers with higher-producing laterals. "We have a merit-based compensation system," Davis says. "There are a variety of outcomes that people have experienced. It probably occurred to a greater and enhanced extent due to the merger."

Paying partners less than first-year's? What on earth, you may be asking yourself, is going on here?

To begin with, I have nothing to say about the selection criteria for who's taking these hits and who isn't (or, as the firm puts it, who is "experiencing which outcomes"). I can only take the firm at its word that they are intended to be performance-related and to alter the mix of partners over time.

The point I'm interested in is a larger one. Why would a firm feel compelled to take such drastic measures in order to--at least partially--protect the very high incomes of its other partners?

This brings us to what I call the "profit imperative."

First, required is a small digression into the wonderland that is law firm accounting. Partners (we're talking equity partners) actually wear three different and distinguishable hats, in terms of their economic participation in the firm:

• Workers/producers, in which role their job is to actually bill hours and perform client work. In this role, their appropriate compensation is what the firm would have to pay a non-equity partner to perform the same work.
• Managers/administrators, in which role they help run their practice groups or departments, manage staff, mentor associates, participate in firm committees, and so forth. In this role, their appropriate compensation is what the firm would have to pay nonlawyer executives to perform the same work.
• And last and only last, equity partners, which is to say, owners with a residual claim on the profits of the enterprise after all other expenses and claims have been satisfied--including, if you want to be rigorous about it (and some of us do), paying the first two sums listed above out of operating income.

But of course, in wonderland, partners view themselves as wearing one and only one hat, namely the last one. This means they view their compensation as coming entirely from their role as equity owners. And given the current realities of law firm organization, finance, and accounting, they are entirely right to see it that way, however economically irrational that might be in the abstract.

Why does this matter? Only because, as we're about to see, "profits" in law firm land have a special meaning, and that's why they're imperative.

If equity partners across BigLaw had been raised from 3L status on to understand, internalize, comprehend, and expect that their compensation would consist of those three different components, the last of which is highly variable, profits would not be as imperative as they are. But that's not the world we live in.

So now that we're all agreed on the financial irrationality of partners' compensation being paid entirely out of "profits," and are equally agreed that this is culturally embedded and not about to change in your lifetime or mine, it's a baby step to seeing why profits in a law firm cannot fall precipitously and expect the firm to remain in equilibrium. It comes down to expectations.

Perhaps the simplest way to explain this is to contrast it to a normal company, say, Toyota or GM.

As is exhaustively known, GM has been bleeding cash and losing money hand over fist for most of this young Century, yet it continues to exist. The fact that it may not continue for too much longer, and that its pleas for help from Washington may be rewarded, only speaks more strongly of its durability. As for Toyota, it's been coining money during the same period and, even though it may suffer its first loss in its 70 years of operations, there is absolutely zero doubt about its continued viability as a global industry leader.

And the point would be?

• Law firms cannot survive a single year with zero profits.
• That, as we know, is all that partners have to take home.
• If partners have nothing to take home, they will be gone.
• And the firm will be no more.

This may provide perspective on the drastic measures Dewey has taken. There are, of course, other examples of unprecedented Hail Mary's techniques being employed:

• Norton Rose is floating the notion of a four-day work week;
• CMS Cameron McKenna is asking partners to "volunteer for de-equitization" (no, I'm not making this up);
• 92% (92%!) of City of London partners recently polled by Legal Week predicted a drop in profits of more than 15%;
  • 65% predicted it would be more than 20%;
  • 47% predicted it would be more than 25%; and
  • 17% predicted more than 30%.
• And the drastic cuts being implemented far and wide are, at the moment, unavoidable:  "Tony Williams, former managing partner of Clifford Chance and the co-founder of Jomati consultancy [and a good friend of mine—Bruce], said: "You always have to look forward. Cutting people has not just been a knee-jerk reaction [to falling profits]. You have to take the appropriate decision at the appropriate time.""

The point?

Simply that noisy protestations about how firms are cutting people loose in wholesale numbers—be those protests boisterous and cynical or heartfelt and agonized—miss the point that a reasonable level of profitability for a law firm is not a luxury and not an option.  It is as required for survival as oxygen is to us.

The Non-Equities (& Others) Heard From On "The Great De-Leveraging"

Well, that'll teach me...

The volume of commentary following my publication earlier this week of "The Great De-Leveraging" has been unprecedented.  Depending on your attitude, that is either deeply gratifying or almost overwhelming.  As one who takes the positive view by default, I choose option A.

Therefore, I wanted to recap and respond to some of the very thoughtful remarks I've received.  First, a few quick preliminaries:

• "Comments" on "Adam Smith, Esq." are broken.  Yes, I know, I know.  This is a technical issue and not an editorial decision.  We have a complete revamp of the site in the works--currently under wraps--but my devout hope is that that will cure this issue.
• I have attempted to keep the identity of all commenter's scrupulously anonymous, and I hope I have succeeded.
• Without exception--even where people disagreed with my original piece--the remarks and observations have been thoughtful, reflective, and generous.
• I have, as editor-in-chief, reserved the right to condense comments.

Without further ado.

First, "Regular Guy" takes issue with my description of the non-equity position to begin with:

One of my friends forwarded to me your article on The Great De-Leveraging. She was particularly interested in a section in which you wrote "Non-equity lawyers don't have to beat their brains out.  So they don't.  Their deal--again, a perfectly rational one, to them--is that, premised on good behavior, they have a job essentially for life at, say, $350,000 to $450,000/year, adjusted for inflation.  If you think that's not an attractive deal, I suggest you immediately take the elevator down to the street and ask the first ten people you encounter if they'd like such a job."

I am a non-equity partner in Philadelphia, but there's almost nothing in the quoted section which rings true. I (and my friends who are non-equity partners in Philly, DC and in NY) are under incredible pressure to bring in new business and to meet billable hours requirements. And we do it (at least in Philly) for substantially less than $350,000. And on top of it, we get to pay for our own benefits out of pocket. I agree: if we ever had the deal you describe, it would be perfectly rational to do it forever. But I don't know anyone at any firm who ever collected $350,000 to $400,000 for good behavior. I'll be on the lookout for it, though . . .

Frankly, I'm not quite sure what to make of this, since it was an "outlier" in terms of reactions.  Clearly different firms operate at  different economic levels and for some paying a non-equity the amounts I mention might not make sense within their overall compensation structure or not be feasible financially, so I don't doubt that "Regular Guy" is describing his world accurately. 

My point was that, regardless of the exact level of the numbers, they're quite respectable incomes in the US economy as a whole--indeed, according to our President, you'd almost certainly qualify as "wealthy" and worthy of paying additional taxes.

Next up, we have a commenter at  Legal OnRamp who provided a remarkably thorough canvas of the non-equity partner landscape.  I've highlighted key points.

Some excellent data.

Some conclusions I would respectfully differ with.

Nonequity partners, properly applied, are more profitable than associates, notwithstanding their lower production of hours, for a number of reasons. Firstly, they are considerably more experienced and efficient, and thus a higher proportion of their hours worked are billed and collected.

Secondly, their billing rates are higher, and every hour worked has a higher margin as against the allocation of fixed overhead to them as timekeepers.

Thirdly, they tend to have some book of business, just not enough to justify a full equity partnership position. This provides some breadth and stability to the enterprise business base.

Fourthly, they tend to have some real expertise and help out in landing new cases.

Fifthly, they tend to contribute to the administration and partnership duties, from recruiting, mentoring new associates, all manner of committees, etc., thus spreading the burden among a wider group.

Sixthly, it tends to be very easy to project based on years of past experience what the contribution to the bottom line of the firm will be, and their compensation and benefits packages are correspondingly tailored so that the firm makes a profit spread from every one of them.

So....you do not as a manager need to have them working 2,000 hours (though you would like that!). You get 1600 hours at $500 collected from a service partner and she puts $800,000 into the kitty. Salary and benefits at $400k, overhead allocation $150k, net to the firm $250k. Bonus structures encourage more work and there is often generous sharing for it. But it is not required because there are all these other reasons not to force them out if you are making a quarter million a year from their efforts and they carry all these other burdens that would have to be borne by your equity partners otherwise.

Contrast that with an associate doing 1900 hours at $300 per hour, but a fairly typical post billing write down of 6% on hours...or 120. Net collected 1780. All in salary and benefits is $200k, less the overhead allocation of $150k and you net $114k. But, there is great variability in associate productivity. Many will work 2,000 hours or more, but the pre-billing write-offs can amount to 15% for the first two years. Frankly, if you can collect 1600 solid hours off an associate in each of the first two years, you are not doing all that badly. And that alas means that you are about at zero net contribution. Maybe.

Additional partner time is spent reviewing work product, much of which is not billed to the client. Associates in the first three to four years have little ability to carry administrative and other burdens, at least not to the extent of the service partners. And certainly they have no real expertise in the first few years. And there is the element that large numbers of them are going to leave to pursue other directions than big law, after a couple of hundred thousand dollars of sunk costs in recruitment, summer programs etc. per person, whereas the income/service partner has become a long term participant on the team.

There are other elements that merit consideration. The income partner position is also one that allows the firm to flex with people of talent that have issues in "life" that you want to accommodate. A disabled partner who can only work 1200 hours a year, or a partner that wants to dial down the demands while she raises three young kids, would be only two of dozens of examples of ways that the firm will "park" a valued talent that is not in a position to churn and burn like an equity partner must.

It is also an "incubator" position where young associates that the firm has picked out as the "best of the best" are made partner, or are lateraled in for a term to prove themselves. The ambition is to get them up to equity partner performance numbers, because by definition that is where the real economics happen. But obviously not all of them will make it. Not uncommonly there will be some in this class that are an "investment" and will be expected to generate more business, with a few less hours (say 1750 instead of 1950 but with a slug of development hours and activities in accord with a formal business plan).

And, partner culture notwithstanding, this is a class that is effectively "at will". There may be procedures and niceties, if you don't cut it you are out. There are no illusions about this. Whereas at the equity partner level, the protections and practices of the past make the process difficult and painful when they have to be implemented. But there is some stability and comfort in that too.

There is much more to it than just this, but I respectfully suggest that this income or service partner quadrant of the firm is not a wasteland of inattention and losers in a major firm. Yes, there are some that need to be looked after and in some cases counseled out. But the fact is, most of them are PROFITABLE and contributing in myriad ways that associates cannot and do not.   And that is but one reason why as the firm looks inward to decide where and how to cut....that it will not fall on the income partner ranks as heavily as you may suggest it should.

In a nutshell, I think many of these are valid points, especially the initial ones about billable rates and realization ratios being strongly superior to those of junior associates. 

But partly, I submit, this is simply a result of every junior person being at a natural and understandable disadvantage in terms of clients' willingness to pay.  Once associates reach their middle, and certainly their senior, years, their rates and realization rise to very comfortably profitable levels.  It's hard to imagine a world where lawyers vault magically from 3L grads to 4th or 5th years with nothing in-between.  Until we can invent a time machine that warp-bypasses those years, I'm not sure how having a larger cohort of non-equity partners helps alleviate the inevitable waiting-and-training game.  How did those non-equities get where they are, after all?

So it strikes me that those points may be less cause to celebrate non-equities than cause to be grateful that junior associates finally do acquire experience and talent, as costly as it may be to watch them do it.

The point about non-equities being able to assume "administrative and partner duties" including recruiting and mentoring is one I violently disagree with.  Indeed, part of the dysfunction I perceive in firms with large non-equity tiers is precisely that they act as a buffer and "sound insulation" between the partners and the associates.  This is neither healthy for associate development nor for partners' getting to really know the rising young talent pool--not to mention associates' prospects for partnership when that day finally comes.

This would also be the occasion for me to mention--as I did not in the original article--that a common complaint about non-equities is that they hoard work, depriving associates of essential training, implicitly overbilling clients for unnecessary seniority, and gumming up the discipline of proper staffing ratios.  To observe that this is an especially severe problem in this environment would be stating the gruesomely obvious.

Likewise, the points about "life" issues frankly echo one theme I tried to address, perhaps inarticulately, in my initial column on this topic.  

Let me hasten to confess that one reason I may not have been pellucidly clear about this issue is its potential for being viewed as politically incorrect, but here I'll say it: 

I do not believe that a law firm can be simultaneously a "lifestyle" or "work-life balance" firm and an uncompromising, bet-the-ranch, "go to" firm for only the highest-value and most prestigious work.

There, I've said it.  You have a choice, and both choices are eminently defensible and rational.  But I believe you must choose.

Next comes an observer who takes issue with The American Lawyer's definition of "non-equity partner," and who therefore concludes that my entire ratio calculation is askew and fundamentally uninformative. 

While I don't doubt that he has done has research assiduously, as noted in my original piece, I took the "TAL" data at face value as having at least the virtue of a consistent metric.

One failing of using the NEP to Partner ratio is that a number of the firms with low or zero ratios just use a different title--counsel, senior attorney whatever--to hide the economic equivalents of NEPs.  As you point out in the productivity chart, counsel are even less productive than NEPs--meaningfully so in the "more profitable" firms. 

Using Skadden as the first example--mostly because I know their web address off hand--they have 236 partners and 96 counsel (not counting "of counsel" or European, regional or pro bono counsel, but including "special counsel") for a ratio of 0.406.  This takes Skadden way, way out of your circle of cultural stalwarts, which is a much more select group than the NEP:P ratio implies. 

What follows is my quick counting of website listings [and he proceeds to conduct a similar analysis across another dozen or so firms]

[...]

Anyway, very interesting post.  Thank you.

I shall re-direct his critique to Aric Press.

Next, we have a very thoughtful, even soulful, response, gracefully outlining the pressures  generated when a high-performance culture collides with the life of a mere human (highlights mine).

I would agree with you that some of those non-equity partners, senior counsel, etc. are drags on the system.  But it is profoundly difficult to make that out from just the "hours" figure.  The very deal in becoming a senior counsel is that you have something the firm wants to keep, but you aren't willing to accept as remuneration the currency that they are willing to give you for it -- equity partnership. 

As you noted, it is obvious these days that the life of an equity partner is no better than that of an associate - you just get paid more.  Eventually.  After you have paid off your buy in.  In my firm, new partners made considerably less than 8th or 9th year associates, yet had rainmaking responsibilities, etc.  Lousy deal, and increasingly, talented people noticed.  Indeed, because of all the additional time doing client development, etc. etc., the equity partners who really WORK, carrying the load for those old guys who don't, have a terrible deal these days.  You'll make a nice corpse in your expensive coffin.

So what do the talented people do?  The ones who would be offered partnership, but frankly aren't sure that they want it?  Believe it or not, those people do exist.  A lot of them are women.  And at least for a few key, biologically-driven years, they want and need to dial back on the soul-killing hours.  And if one is HONEST, billing 2500 hours is soul-killing because you worked so many more hours than that.

I was offered, and did not take, a non-equity position.  I would have been on reduced hours (work 40 rather than bill more than 40 was the deal), I could be paid on a 1/3 eat what you kill. 

I was a talented antitrust litigator capable of running cases and capable of very complex analysis.  The clients liked me.  There was a core cadre of women with this deal at my firm who were routinely offered equity partner status every few years.  Typically nobody took equity status because the extra money wasn't worth the price.  This is because we were in control of our own hours (because successful participants under this system have their own clients who are loyal and trust their work), our conversion rates billed/collected were spectacular, and we represented niche practices that were not easily replaced.  Why do you think that the firm was willing to make these deals with us in the first place? 

So yes: in a world where only the raw number of hours billed matters, these people are less profitable for the firm.  But if our conversion rate is extremely high, we're critical to the relationship with some long-term clients, your "diversity" numbers plummet and there is no one to mentor new female talent coming up, and we're a straight 1/3 pay with risk borne by the non-equity, I would argue that these people are one of the very best deals in law firms.  Indeed, the fact that the firm was willing to think outside the box to keep some of these folks tells you that there is profit there.

The bottom line of my little screed is that the raw hours worked numbers don't tell the story of a person's value to the firm.  A senior counsel (other non-equity) has a deal whereby they work fewer hours for less pay.  If the deal doesn't work for both sides, the senior counsel gets canned.  In litigation, senior counsels are sometimes called non-equity partners so that one's card will say what the client wants to see.  But really: this is a strategy for holding onto talent that has decided that working even more hours than one worked as an associate is not worth the price.

Hard to argue with.  So I won't try. 

I told you it was soulful--and deeply appreciated by me.  Next:

Bruce,

A very interesting post.  One comment to consider regarding the relative value of income partners to associates.  At least [in my non-US country], most income partners feed themselves, in the sense that they have direct client contacts that send them enough work that keeps their plates full. 

It is not enough work to keep a pyramid of associates busy beneath them, hence they are not equity partners.  Clients prefer experienced lawyers to inexperienced lawyers because they get more value from them, despite higher hourly rates.  Clients hate paying for 1st year lawyers who contribute relatively little to a file when compared with their hourly rates. 

In my experience, until associates have 2-3 years experience under their belts, they are rarely more useful than a good quality paralegal, whose hourly rates are much lower.  [Here's the same point our second commenter made, so you can mentally reprise the same reaction I had then.--Bruce]  We need junior associates only because we need a future stream of partners.  As you point out, not a very high percentage of those we bring in make it to even income partnership, let alone equity partnership. 

If you agree with Richard Susskind, as I do, that law has much work to do on refining legal work process, then there will be even less work for associates to do in the future, as, organized properly, more work can be done by paralegals, or outsourced to contract lawyers or lawyers in lower cost centers.  Yes, we will continue to need the future partners, but does it make economic sense to pay crazy wages when only one in ten or twenty will make partner. 

The cost of associates is not only in their wages, but also in the time, effort and money to recruit them, and then train them when they come on board.  The best case scenario is that when they leave, they go in-house to a client, and if you have treated them well and have a good alumni program, they may become your client. 

In the worst case scenario, you have to pay to off ramp them.  For a very large percentage, I doubt that their cost is ever re-covered by the firm.  That is why firms hold onto those with experience who can feed themselves, and give good advice to clients.  If they work fewer hours, they are compensated less.  The key is that they are generally good lawyers who are valued by clients.  I'll admit that if they can't feed themselves, then you have to ask, do you keep them on board for what they are paid relative to what associates are paid, who don't bring in any work.  When you add up the real cost of a 1-3 year associate in New York vs. an income partner who completely or largely feeds him or herself, then the economics becomes very different.

Thoughtful and, if I had to bet, penned by someone with a fair degree of exposure to economics in their background.

Next, we have an opinion about how non-equity partners' willingness to work for (relatively) less could threaten the position of equity partners in the longer run:

Your rant [Was it a rant?!?--I thought it was pretty reasonable.  Bruce] about Non-Equity partners could be dead on if you are an equity partner worrying about how to protect your $2 million draw. However, the prevalence of non-equity partners is indicative of another unpleasant reality.

There are many many lawyers who are perfectly competent to do the work and are happy or willing to do so for less money. As we all know, not everyone is a rainmaker. Most of the horned rim types engaged in the securitization mill are technical geniuses but clumsy back slappers. One way or another the redeployment of these people in the legal market place is going to put pressure on big firm economics. Particularly in world with bankers capped at $500,000.

Keep up the great blogging.
(former Big Firm equity partner happy to have left the law)

And finally, this piece from a BigLaw partner who's a regular reader (highlights, again, mine):

        Your last piece, the Great De-Leveraging Article -- is really one of your recent best analyses on the current law firm model.  Well done. 

        As you will recall, you and I corresponded a little over a year ago, when I said that I believed there was a "bubble" in law firm "stock prices" in the form of profits per partner.  The then-existing model could not continue to sustain its growth in profits per partner at the historic rate.  All the available revenue levers -- leverage, rates, utilization -- had all been taken close to their logical maximum points.  Moreover, the drive to continue increasing those profits was leading to poor business practices that would bite firms when they could no longer be increased.  For example, the increased reliance on leverage, in large part through parking associates in the income partner spot, would not be sustainable over the long term and leads to an underinvestment in new talent.  Similarly, the constant increase in rates, particularly for junior associates, was starting to alienate clients.

        As we now are starting to see, the bubble for law firms is popping.  They cannot maintain the profits per partner at the historic rates.  In an effort to prevent a free-fall in partner profits, law firms are now "de-leveraging."  And many firms who could not (or are currently not) doing this fast enough, are starting to fall apart (e.g. Heller, Thelen, etc.) because the collapse of the PPP sends the rain makers to other firms, leaving the firm to collapse of its own weight.

        I think you are right that this is the time that firms need to start afresh -- Andy Grove style -- to figure out their strategy.  But, I believe that the firm leadership in only a few firms actually understand the dramatic nature of the strategic decisions they should be contemplating.  Most firms will consider whether to downsize, and if so in which practice areas.  They'll take some actions, and those in the top quartile may even align those actions so that the resulting firm structure is aligned to those practice areas where the firm sees opportunity in the future.  But, I think the choice is much more fundamental, and most firms do not yet see it (or do not want to see it).  I think firms need to think through fundamentally what their competitive advantages are, what markets they are targeting, and as a result, they need to decide what their firm business model is going to look like. 

        A couple examples may suffice:  Some of the highly profitable, NY firms (who are listed in your article as having few, or no income partners), generally tend to generate work through the big deals and the big litigations.  Those deals are large enough that the clients become price insensitive, and they can be staffed with large teams of lawyers paying attention to every legal detail.  For those firms, the model of high fees and lots of leverage continues to work.  While they may also be able to get premium pricing structures, they don't typically have to take any risk to get those premiums.  Those firms can continue to use the "Cravath" model, where they churn through the best and brightest of law school graduates, and are left with the brightest (and most "durable") lawyers who become partners.  That model will probably continue to produce $2-$4 million PPP. And while the growth in those profits may be difficult, given the amount of those profits, the model will likely still be successful.

           A second model probably applies to many mid-tier firms  (AmLaw 20-60).  These firms will need to adopt what I would call the "production" model.  Their target markets tend to be Fortune 1000 clients.  In litigation, they may not get the "bet the company" cases, but they will get significant cases within the firm's areas of specialty.  In deal work, they may become specialists in certain types of deals (the equivalent of what securitizations work provided for much of the last 7 years).  In both categories, clients are increasingly fee sensitive.  And in both categories, the work, while not "commoditized" is certainly of a type where sophisticated firms could bid on the work on a fixed rate basis.  Those firms who can figure out how to do this -- and this requires an incredible control over internal information within the firm to ensure that projects are properly bid and managed -- will have a chance of keeping up with the NY firms in terms of profits (though I doubt they will maintain the same high level).   This "production" model requires an ingrained systematization of process controls, teams of lawyers who are deep experts, and leaders who are risk takers (for bidding purposes) and project managers (for execution purposes).  It may still be a leveraged model, but the leverage probably will not look the same as in current firms. There may still be a place for income partners, but those partners skills are now to bring deep expertise and extensive project management skills.  Think of this firm like large construction firms.  The principals take significant risk, have the potential for significant reward, but only if the team executes flawlessly.

        A third model is what I consider the "boutique" model.  These firms have very talented senior lawyers in practices that are often difficult to leverage (think of Regulatory work, Appellate practices, perhaps some IP litigation, Tax advisory work, etc.).  These firms will likely have difficulty maintaining significant leverage.  A 1:2 partner-associate leverage may be the most that can be maintained (if that).  To the extent these firms can command premium rates, they may support significant profits per partner, but probably never at the level of the large NY firms.  The question will be whether these firms can offer a culture that compensates partners in a non-financial manner that makes up for the lost profits they might earn at larger firms.  One could imagine a fairly idyllic life -- less pressure to generate business, more time engaging in the practice of law. 

        As you note in your article, most firms currently don't really know "who" they are or what their strategy is.  Strategies have focused on either "bigger, more revenue," or "focused, more profits," but I don't sense that most firms have really considered what makes the firms a cohesive entity, how the firm differentiates itself, what innovative services it might provide, or how the firm can leverage its strategic assets.  The result is behemoth firms that keep getting bigger, with shrinking equity partnership ranks in order to keep the PPP at acceptable levels, and layers of "associates," "income partners," "counsel" and "others" who largely become cogs in an indiscriminate entity.  Loyalty to those firms is at an all-time low, because all the firms basically look the same, so partners defect when they see a chance to increase income.  Clients have a hard time telling firms apart, so success in client marketing focuses mostly on the personal relationship because there are very few other differentiating factors (to be sure, personal relationships will always be important). 

        Most firms are following the crowd like lemmings, breathing a sigh of relief that now, given Latham's large layoffs, it is now "ok" to really cut into lawyer staffing levels.  When the markets return, the pecking order for law firms will probably stay the same, though mid-tier firms may be at even a greater competitive disadvantage, having lost even more of their rain-makers to higher-tier firms.  A few smart mid-tier firms might realize that downturns are opportunities.  In good times, it can be hard to rock the boat; In downturns, there is a burning platform where partners can be galvanized to take action, if a good roadmap is provided.  Firms with strong leaders will take the opportunity to "right-size" and "right-structure" their firms.  They'll adopt new business practices, invest in training on those skills critical to the firm's differentiated success (e.g., project management, or substantive expertise) (after all, their idle lawyers now have more time to attend these trainings), institute systems to track costs on the types of matters they want to focus on in the future, they will start partnering with clients now (when clients may be eager to take risks to reduce costs, and law firms may have excess capacity in their system) to find ways to take risks together to find a better long-term model. 

           The bubble has popped.  The market is in a downturn, and businesses are being reinvented.  Some law firms will keep doing the same old thing (and for some, like the NY firms, that's probably a good model).  A few well-managed firms will use this time to determine "who" they are, and how they want to compete; assess what sort of PPP they really need and want, develop a strategy that builds on their strengths to differentiate themselves from other firms, and develops a structure and set of expertise to execute that strategy. 

        But then again, for most firms, they'll just hunker down, cut costs, and hope their relative standing somehow improves when the market returns.  Good luck to them.

A fascinating roundup of responses--and all, Dear Readers, thanks to you.  As they used to say somewhere in the lost mists of collective media memory, "keep those cards and letters coming."

What, finally, then, do I think about the remarkable growth over the last decade of the non-equity tier, and of the advisability of same?

As Tolstoy famously wrote in the opening of Anna Karenina, "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."  I would paraphrase, or mangle, that to observe that "single tier firms are all alike; every two-tier firm is two-tier in its own way."

By that I mean there is no template, no equivalent of the Cravath Model, for what being "two-tier" means.  We as an industry continue to experiment on this front (as we are experimenting, abruptly and unwillingly, on many other fronts, of a sudden in this environment).

But I continue to believe that the burden of proof is on those who would argue for the expansion and not the contraction of the non-equity tier.  Economic reasons, as I noted in my original piece, are the least of it--which, ironically, is at odds with the gravamen of most of my interlocutors above who argued for the non-equity tier on economic grounds.

The core of the debate, in my mind, is all about culture.  Many are the reasons to have a substantial  non-equity tier, and many are the reasons, as I have argued, to strictly limit it.  But do not, under any circumstances, pretend that you are not making a decision with vast cultural implications.

The Great De-Leveraging

Just as I was thinking it was about time to publish a column on the topic of "leverage" at law firms (roughly speaking, the associate to partner ratio, although there's more than one way to calculate something that people will call "leverage"), here comes a slew of pieces on the topic, including:

• Prof. Larry Ribstein on "the over-leveraging and over-regulation of the legal profession:"
  

  In the longer run, we now see very clearly that running law firms as thinly capitalized worker cooperatives is not an equilibrium solution in this market.

  The answer, as I've said many times before, is dropping regulatory restrictions on law firm structure and letting them be run like real businesses. This particularly includes permitting non-lawyer capitalization and perhaps even public ownership, as well as enabling firms to hold onto their intellectual property through non-competition agreements.

• A piece in, of all places, The Atlantic's blog called "There's leverage everywhere!" with this pregnant introduction to our system:
  

  But let's work the argument a little further. It surely is true that unlike their current incarnations, the old Wall Street partnerships did not destroy the world with excessive leverage. But in the pre-credit-boom era, no one else was incurring much leverage either. It might be worth considering whether there are entities that are structurally similar to the old Wall Street firms (i.e., partnerships in which a substantial portion of the partners' net worth was tied up in their employer, and could not easily be removed from same) and see whether they have taken on significant leverage in the modern age of easy credit.

  As it turns out, there are such entities. We call them "big law firms." And their example is instructive.

  and
  
  
• More than one of these new pieces has referenced something that ours truly wrote about "Leverage:  Friend or Foe? (Or Noncombatant?)" back in December 2005, where I said:
  
  Common sense would tell you that in a labor-intensive service industry, where revenue is driven primarily by sheer tonnage of hours worked, the higher the ratio of associates (and non-equity partners) to (full equity) partners, the higher the revenues and thus the profits per partner. Right? It turns out this is one of those cases where it's not as simple as it seems.
  
  [...]  Then there's the evil twin of high leverage: Low utilization. It doesn't help that your leverage ratio is through the roof if nobody's busy; indeed, welcome to the worst of both worlds.

What has changed?

For starters, the whole world is now aware of the perils of leverage.  Let me throw a few charts into the discussion for starters.  By and large, I would like to believe, they speak for themselves.

Finally, here's one that leaves you wondering whether to laugh or cry—and it's seriously out of date at this point.

It's a chart showing the large global banks' market capitalization as of the 2nd quarter of 2007 (large blue-grey circles) and then as of October 20, 2008 (small green circles). 

In order, left to right and top row to bottom, they are:  Morgan Stanley, RBS, Deutsche Bank, Credit Agricole, Societe Generale, Barclays, Unicredit, UBS, Credit Suisse, Goldman Sachs, BNP Paribas, Santander, Citigroup, JP Morgan, and HSBC:

Update (8 March 2009):  A very helpful reader, who chooses anonymity, pointed out within hours of my publishing this that the chart above is seriously misleading.  Why?  Because the circles, being two-dimensional, invite us to visually compare their areas rather than their diameters—and the latter is what the chart-drawer actually chose to represent. 

Take Citigroup:  Its market cap went from $255B to $82B in the period in question.  Now that you look at it closely, you can see that's how the chart was drawn.  But were the circles drawn to scale appropriately in terms of their area, it's clear that it would take only 3.11 of the small green circles to fill the large blue circle (since 255/82 = 3.11).  Your eyes tell you in a flash that the green circle as drawn is far too small, in fact.  (Full explanation here.)

While I apologize for this mental and visual hiccup, all I can offer in defense is that I'm not the only one:

Pretty scary, eh?  It's a chart showing the deterioration of major bank market caps since 2007.  Prepared by someone at JP Morgan based on data from Bloomberg, this chart flashed across Wall Street and the financial world a few days ago, filling thousands of e-mail in boxes.  Putting a face on the current banking crisis it really brought home to many people on Wall Street the critical position the financial industry finds itself in.

Too bad the chart is wrong.

[...] So it's a typo: no big deal, right?  Yeah, but what a typo!  It got past Bloomberg and JP Morgan and pretty much all of Wall Street before someone said, "Hey, this makes no sense!"

Here's a proper chart.  While the players are somewhat different, that's more than made up for by the fact that it's far more current:  Comparing the market cap as of March 30, 2007, with the market cap as of February 20, 2009—barely two weeks ago:

Still not great performance, to be sure, but if there are degrees of horrendous-ness, this is at least less so.  Plus truthfully representative.

Thank you, Dear Reader.  Thus concludes the update.

While there are many reasons for these breathtaking declines, surely a proximate cause was the sky-high assets to equity ratios of many of these institutions.  20 to 1, 35 to 1, and even 50 to 1 were not unheard of in the palmy days.  Suffice to say that business model is, as I heard someone remark recently here in New York, "so last August."

So other parts of the economy (shockingly large parts!) may have gone crazy.  What does this have to do with us, necessarily?

If there are analogies to be drawn across professional service sectors, leverage is out for the investment banks and leverage is out for us as well.  For the I-banks, as noted, it was (in retrospect and even, to some more astute observers at the time) outrageous ratios of assets to equity, and for us it may be the high ratio of lawyer leverage.

I said at the outset that there are different definitions of "leverage" in our world, and I want to take some time and spend a little bit of effort breaking them out, because I believe the subtle differences matter.

Courtesy of The American Lawyer, here are the top 25 most leveraged firms from the AmLaw 100 and the bottom 25 least leveraged firms.

Top:

And bottom:

These figures are calculated by dividing the total number of lawyers at the firm (full time equivalent) by the number of equity partners.  For example, using firm #100 here, Faegre & Benson has 424 total lawyers and 255 equity partners, so 424/255 = 1.89.

Again, we can debate whether this is the ideal measure of leverage or not; my own preference is to divide all lawyers who are not equity partners by equity partners, but the results would be directionally similar. (Using Faegre & Benson as an example, again, the number of "lawyers who are not equity partners" would be 424-255 = 169, and dividing that by the number of equity partners yields 169/255 = 0.66.)

Why does leverage matter? For starters, as I noted in my 2005 column I quoted at the outset, leverage is your best friend in good times and your worst enemy in bad times. While we've heard the drumbeat of client complaints about paying for useless junior associates for years, this is suddenly the kind of environment where it will grow sharp teeth and bite hard. Either: (a) massive litigations will not be pursued because they're too complicated, uncertain, protracted, and expensive; and/or (b) if they must be pursued, contract attorneys, staff attorneys, and outsourcers will provide the human throw-weight needed for massive document review; and/or (c) corporations will simply insist that document review be completed for flat fees of $X/unit [$1.00/page? $0.50/page?]. In any event, no one I talk to--absolutely no one--believes that the litigation "factory" model with one partner overseeing half a dozen or more associates who are billing 'til the cows come home will be a predominant source of revenue going forward.

All well and good, but I think a more interesting calculation compares the ratio of non-equity partners to equity partners.  The charts and calculations that follow are premised on The American Lawyer's conventions, which denote someone an equity partner if they receive a K-1 and a non-equity partner if more than half of their income is guaranteed.  This is not the place to debate that methodology; the point for present purposes is that all firms are hewing to the same metric. While the raw data is courtesy of The American Lawyer, the calculations and the sorting are my own.

Here are the firms where the non-equity to equity partner ratio is greater than 1.00:

And here are the firms where that ratio is less than 0.25:

Note that I've drawn lines segregating the 11 firms with a non-equity to equity ratio between 0.00 and 0.25, simply because—depending on what may be special circumstances unique to each firm—arguments could probably be made that they don't "really" have non-equity partners as they see it; they just have to report this way based on The American Lawyer definitions.   Also note that I alphabetized the listing, by firm name, of all those reporting 0.00 ratios.

Why does this matter?  Aren't all the firms reporting layoffs reporting exclusively layoffs of associates and staff, not partners.

Yes, but those reports reflect actions taken to date, and I want to essay a little vision into what we may be seeing in the future, and to set the stage I think the two charts above are most informative.

First, why have no firms announced partner layoffs?  Isn't this the worst kind of cronyism, safeguarding one's peers, taking it all out on the "little people," and demonstrating lousy business judgment to boot, when the cost savings realized by offing (say) 10 associates could probably be realized by tossing a single partner overboard.  (Such, to paraphrase, is how it has recently been expressed to me, in tones ranging from outrage to derision to glum resignation.)

The issue, as so often is the case, is more complex than that.

Simply put, it takes time to get rid of partners.  They are not employees at will, as associates and staff.  They must be cajoled, "spoken to," almost certainly offered incentives to walk gently towards the door.  Note, importantly, that this is almost universally true of non-equity as well as equity partners.  (Off the top of my head, essentially every partnership agreement I've seen that addresses the issue at all treats non-equity and equity partners alike on the topic of termination—that is to say, it's hard to accomplish without cause.)

And there's more.  More and more non-equity partners, that is.  This chart shows the percentage of all lawyers at AmLaw firms who are not equity partners, from 2000 through 2006.  The big red bars are of course associates, ranging from 82% of the total in 2000 to 75% in 2006.  The light grey slices are "income" partners, growing from 9% to 13%, and the darker grey slice at the very top, growing from 9% to 12%, are "other non-equity lawyer" (don't ask me about the terminology; I'm just the reporter here). The chart is courtesy of last year's Citibank/Hildebrandt Client Advisory.

Now—bear with me—one more data point. 

Here's the "productivity," measured by annual hours billed, of (a) equity partners; (b) income partners; (c) associates; and (d) other non-equity lawyers, at "higher profit" and at "lower profit" firms:

What it shows with conspicuous graphic clarity is that income partners and other non-equity lawyers are systematically the least productive lawyers in these firms.  Associates work the hardest, but equity partners work almost as hard.  (At higher profit firms, the associates record a negligible 2.5% more hours than equity partners.)

From both a human and an economic perspective, this is all perfectly logical. Non-equity lawyers don't have to beat their brains out.  So they don't.  Their deal—again, a perfectly rational one, to them—is that, premised on good behavior, they have a job essentially for life at, say, $350,000 to $450,000/year, adjusted for inflation.  If you think that's not an attractive deal, I suggest you immediately take the elevator down to the street and ask the first ten people you encounter if they'd like such a job.

What else do we know about non-equity lawyers?

They are the most expensive form of leverage.  They make more than associates, to state the obvious, and have also "maxed out" on any variable benefits one needs a certain period of tenure to earn, such as 401(k) matches, etc.

This, frankly, is the least of it. The real issue is cultural.

Go back and take a look at the firms with non-equity to equity partner ratios < 0.25. Better yet, focus on those where the non-equity tier is either nonexistent (0.00) or de minimis and probably only an artifact of The American Lawyer's reporting system.

What do they have in common?

Indeed: An unusually high combination of cultural cohesion and readily articulable strategy. Just a sampling proves the point:

• Cleary, Cravath, Davis Polk, Debevoise, Paul Weiss, Simpson Thacher, Skadden, Sullivan & Cromwell, Wachtell.

Like them or not, you can say of each of those firms that they stand for something, and that achieving partnership there is dependent on several dimensions beyond that of being a mighty rainmaker.

Vs. those with the non-equity to equity ratio > 1.00: Without (re-)naming names, it must be said of that group that their strategies are extremely diverse and, in some cases, as yet unproven. Additionally, many of the firms in that group have high proportions of relatively new lateral partners.

But back to culture. I submit that firms with high proportions of non-equity partners have changed their culture. They may not have intended to, they may not have foreseen it, but change it they have.

Thirty or twenty years ago and even pretty much today, at least in New York-based firms, the reality is truly up or out. This attracts a certain cohort of hard core Type A people who (as I felt at that time) have never been anywhere other than at the top of their classes and who don't intend to be anywhere else now. As a managing partner said to me last week, "We've all heard the statistics that only one in 25--or whatever--starting associates at Cravath will make partner. But you know what? All the Cravath on-campus interviews are hugely oversubscribed! Everybody thinks they're going to be the one in the 25."

He has a point.

So how does the introduction, and more importantly the perpetuation, of a material cohort of non-equity partners change the culture of a firm?

Let me editorialize about a few consequences:

• The culture shifts from "excellence or else" to "good enough."
  • I don't think that "good enough" is sustainable in this environment.
    
    
• In the palmy days of 2001--2007, having a flexibly extensible non-equity tier served as a crutch for firms that wanted to avoid making difficult decisions about people or having awkward conversations with them.
  • I don't think that those difficult decisions and awkward conversations can be postponed in this environment.
    
    
• One of the reasons we're seeing widespread associate layoffs--apart from the pure economic imperative to cut costs in order to match revenues to capacity--has to do with morale. It's dreadful to morale to walk the halls seeing a bunch of your colleagues with too little to do, who are then guiltily sneaking out at 5:30.
  • The non-equity tier, with nothing to aspire to and perhaps (psychological speculation on my part, which I am shockingly unqualified to offer) feeling themselves ever so slightly "damaged goods" only exacerbate this.
  • None of us, none of our firms, have room for morale-busting zombies in this environment.
    
    
• The ranks of the non-equities grew not by design but by happenstance and, frankly, inattentiveness. While it may be true, as Oliver Wendell Holmes famously remarked, that "the life of the law has not been logic, it has been experience," it's time to apply some analytic logic, some serious and rigorous strategic evaluation, to the weed on steroids that has been the growth of the non-equity tier in too many firms over the past palmy period.
  • And no, we cannot afford to do otherwise in this environment.

We read, finally, that firms are drastically cutting back their summer programs and dialing back first-year offers, postponing start dates, offering semi-paid sabbaticals, and so forth. All well and good and relatively innovative examples of rising to this dismal occasion.

The pipeline of new talent must be kept as full as anticipated demand warrants. Law firms live and die on their talent, and they cannot short-change their investment in it based on next quarter's or next year's depressing projections, although they can certainly try to size it to better approximate the new reality.

But the talent that may not be carrying its weight, that needs profound re-examination, is that of the non-equity tier.

If you were starting your law firm today, would it look as it does in terms of non-equity partners?

Better yet, or more realistically yet, perform Andy Grove's famous thought (and reality) experiment when Intel was a low-end maker of commodity DRAM chips, having their lunch eaten in the late 1970's by the voracious and talented Japanese, threatening Intel's very existence.

I paraphrase: Grove said to his top management team, "If we don't turn things around in a very serious way, the Board will fire us. So why don't we 'fire' ourselves. Let's march out of this conference room and march back in assuming we're the new team the Board has hired. What would we do then?"

They performed the exercise, decided to abandon DRAM's and invest in microprocessors. The rest is history, and it's history residing under your desk or in your lap.

I'm suggesting you perform a "Grove Intervention" on your firm. And if you've read this far, you know where I think you might start.

Layoffs: Substitutes & Complements

When non-lawyers ask what's happening in the world of law these days (i.e., what ATL is covering), our first response is usually one word: layoffs. It's been a dominant theme in our coverage since the fall.

—Above The Law (today)

While I might nominate that quote for Understatement Of The Season, I cite it for an entirely different purpose:  Are there any alternatives to layoffs?

Actually, I don't believe there are any "pure" alternatives to layoffs, at least not in the economic sense of "substitutes," for firms under serious financial stress.  But I'd like to suggest there are "complements" (economic sense) to layoffs. 

[Jargon digression:  In economics, "substitutes" are goods or services that people can trade off between without drastic disruption or deprivation, such as coffee and tea, bagels and muffins, or red and white wine.  As you can tell from these examples, there are rarely perfect substitutes—we all have our preferences—but if our favorite is unavailable or exorbitantly expensive, we will make do with the alternative and carry on.  "Complements," by contrast, are goods or services that tend to go together.  Think coffee and sugar, bagels and cream cheese, or red wine and bread.]

In the land of law firm layoffs, it's all too easy to understand why so many firms are resorting to them in this unprecedented environment. 

Forgive me if what follows strikes you as simplistic (good for you if it does!), but I find myself explaining this to people with a frequency that suggests it's not widely understood.  Consider hypothetical BigLaw firm in 2008 and 2009:

Obviously, these numbers are simplistic and you can quibble with the details and assumptions, but the message is powerful:  Law firm P&L's are highly leveraged. In the good times, this is your best friend:  Every additional dollar of revenue drops almost intact to the bottom line.  But in the bad times, this is your worst enemy.  A 1% drop in revenue can--all else equal--lead to a 3% drop in profits.

What, then, to do?  As the famous advice has it, "Follow the money."  The money, in this case, is associate and staff compensation.  Together they are to a law firm's expenses as Social Security and Medicare are to the federal government's budget:  Enormous.  If you need to cut a lot of expense at a law firm, you don't have many alternatives but to look there.  (I'm assuming all your office leases are long-term and not readily renegotiable, especially in this environment.)

The bad news, of course, is that cutting associates and staff used to be viewed as being as untouchable as trimming Social Security and Medicare would be. But not any more. If we've learned nothing else from the drumbeat of layoffs in the US and the UK, it is that there is no stigma attached to them today.

While we're at it, let's not limit the casualties to associates and staff. Everybody ought to share the pain, including equity and (if you have them) non-equity partners. It cannot be true that every single person in category X (say, partner) is irrebuttably indispensable while everyone in category Y (non-equity) is subject to scrutiny. Note to those keeping score at home: Cutting partner ranks will also distribute the diminished profits over a smaller pool, making the hit to your PPP less, percentage-wise, than the hit to your total P.

So if the base case for the inevitability of resorting to layoffs has been made, how can we do it more intelligently? How can we be more intelligent and less reactive, more scalpel and less meat-axe, more humane and less brutal?

Let's go back to "complements."

I suggest there are a variety of techniques you can employ, not as "substitutes" for layoffs, but to enhance their cost-saving impact and trigger other savings. Let me add that, with some degree of consternation, I don't see very many firms implementing these "complements." If this column has no other purpose, it's to change that myopic behavior.

• Reduced hours for reduced pay. Forgive me, but this strikes me as blisteringly obvious. We've heard bellyaching throughout the boom years about "work/life balance" and so forth, usually to imperceptible effect, but now we have an opportunity we can embrace with gusto. Of course, the reaction of associates invited to partake of this bonanza may suddenly be less than enthusiastic. "Be careful what you wish for?" Still, you should think about it.
  
  
• Sabbaticals. Whether paid, unpaid, or inbetween, consider granting (requiring?) people to take a period of time off. Don't permit them to do nothing, however; make sure the expectation is that they will do something related to broadening themselves, learning, professional or cultural or emotional or even artistic development. You might be surprised at the new imaginations they'll return with. And in the meantime you'll have economized while maintaining loyalty.
  
  
• Shared jobs. As with our first suggestion, this is one that was oft requested and rarely honored during the boom: "Impractical and unworkable." "Clients won't stand for it." "Shirking by another name." "How entitled do they think they are?" Permit me to suggest the world has changed. Think about this again.
  
  
• Salary freezes. Been there, done that, and how shocked are you that the reaction has been so placid? Which brings me to:
  
  
• Salary cuts. I don't know if you read it here first, but it matters not where you did. Economists famously and widely insist that wages are "sticky downwards," which is their awkward formulation of the highly common-sensical notion that people hate to see their pay (at the same employer) actually drop. But these are not ordinary times, and there are ample reasons to think that people would be surprisingly amenable to this revolutionary concept:
  • Today, a job--almost any job, much less a highly respectable one at BigLaw--beats no job. Enough said.
  • There's value in shared sacrifice. Taking a hit, collectively and communally, to preserve the firm's community, is not a hard stretch or leap of the imagination for people today.
  • Dollars go farther than they did 18 months ago. Have you noticed that housing has gotten cheaper? That cars can't be given away? That "70% off" is the minimum required to get people off the street and in the door? That everyone is suddenly very very negotiable on price?
    

I'm not suggesting my list is exhaustive; it's meant to be suggestive and (we can always hope) creative.

Now's the time to innovate. Given what a straight-line extrapolation of current reality would look like, somebody better.

Update:  23 February.  I received the following correspondence from a 1L at a top ten law school.

Greetings from Law Student Land.

What an intense time to be a 1L. Just thought I'd share a few thoughts and reflections, especially as they relate to your latest column.

First, never have any doubt about the attention paid to Above the Law at the student level. Personally I have serious misgivings about that site's position as the main conduit of information between associates and management. However, looking around my Crim class the other week on that famous thursday and watching everyone tick off the layoffs as they happened, I was struck again by the power of the instant press on firm recruiting and retention.

Secondly, and building on my first comment, note this story: ( http://abovethelaw.com/2009/02/nationwide_layoff_watch_mckee_1.php ) for an example of the sort of press that will make a difference in July, when my class at [*****] begins bidding for interview slots at firms. As I'm sure firms are aware, students aren't going to be able to exclude all of the firms that have made layoffs from our job search.

However, the process by which firms lay off their associates is a chance for us to "look under the hood" at the interaction between management and associates at different firms. I am certain that firms who conducted "stealth layoffs" or that swung the scythe heavily through the first-year ranks will be penalized come recruitment time. Which is not to even mention the debacle over at Pillsbury last week.

Lastly, I note with satisfaction your mention of work/life balances issues in your latest column as a way to trim firm expenses. Sadly, it seems that though firms have realized they will need to adapt to a changed business environment, they have so far acted with the lumbering (be-suited) herd mentality that so regularly characterizes their behavior.

Someone has told them that layoffs are ok, and so they are going to attempt to cut staff numbers until their profit margins return to normal. While wages are surely sticky, they are not stuck. I am lucky enough to have secured an associateship with a firm this summer. The firm I am headed to pays its associates below the "New York rate" but in a secondary city. I am told that associates work around 50 hours a week. This strikes me as a fair bargain, and one that many of my classmates would willingly make. It seems to me that even firms that are known as "sweatshops" could create a 75% work schedule in which pay is cut in relation to the chosen billable hour requirement. The idea of a sabbatical seems like an ingenious way to temporarily de-equitize partners until work picks back up.

All of which is just to say that I think your concept of where the general mood of the lowest rung of the ladder is these days is fairly accurate. Keep up the good work.

[After I asked my correspondent whether I could have permission to republish his thoughts:]

I have no problem with being anonymously quoted. I think this is clear from my comment, but just to be sure, the scheme I am advocating is less hours for less pay, as opposed to a straightforward pay cut. I don't think this would be too much of a problem, as I am under the impression that there aren't enough hours to go around at the moment. I'm also generally not in favor of having an across the board pay cut in exchange for a promise of no layoffs. Obviously, this would reward under-producers at the expense of the hardest working associates. I think generally we as students expect firms to approximate the level of attrition that they have in good times, and therefore be prepared for our class when we come aboard in 2011.

Thoughtful commentary indeed. 

Why would it not make sense for firms to offer a tradeoff between hours and pay or, perhaps more audaciously, a tradeoff between the investment made in professional development and training, and pay? 

What I'm suggesting in the latter thought experiment is simply this: If a firm is going to work you to death and skimp on training and professional development (they're non-billable), then shouldn't you expect to be paid handsomely for your pains? Conversely, if another firm is willing to devote significant resources in time and money to an intense training effort, shouldn't you rationally be willing to accept a lower salary, recognizing that you're investing for your future in a non-monetary way?

The remarkable thing is that it seems to work in other industries—witness the old joke about how the publishing industry is a wonderful place to get training "if your parents can afford to send you there."

Are Profits The New Growth?

Find out my thoughts on the matter here.

The NYT's Obit for the Billable Hour

When The New York Times features it on the front page, it must be real, right?

I'm referring to Billable Hours Giving Ground at Law Firms, which features Evan Chesler flatly arguing that "This is the time to get rid of the billable hour." Unfortunately, if you're looking for real insight into the issues underlying the stress on the billable hour, this is not the article to read--unless, as I perhaps suspect, the article was pitched to an audience oblivious to the entire issue prior to picking up that day's Times.

Shall we review the bidding on this topic?

Pro the billable hour:

• It's familiar, both to lawyers in private practice and to their inhouse lawyer clients. It's been the dominant revenue model since the 1960's which, for all practical purposes, is the professional lifetime of anyone working today.
  
  
• It's measurable. David Wilkins of Harvard says:
  
  "Does this make any sense?" said David B. Wilkins, professor of legal ethics and director of the program on the legal profession at Harvard. "It makes as much sense as any other kind of effort to measure your value by some kind of objective, extrinsic measure. Which is not much."
  
  David (a friend) is of course right, but the alternative to an "objective, extrinsic measure" is some variant of subjective and judgmentally laden approximation, which requires trust.
  
  
• Clients--this is my theory, at least--have been largely bluffing this past decade or more when they've moaned and complained about the billable hour. After all, from their perspective, it has some indisputable virtues:
  • They can say to their financial green eye-shade types, "Well, look, they actually did the work. Says so right here."
  • And, for that matter, they can say that they negotiated the "most-favored nation" rate and, on top of that, got a 15% discount; so don't argue that we didn't get value for money.
    
    
• Again, clients might not be too comfortable with the alternatives. Why is $375,000 "for services rendered" the right number? How does one defend that internally against the purchasing agents and cost accountants? (And don't assume their instinct will be to ask why it's not a higher number.)

Con the billable hour:

• It provides, obviously and somewhat tendentiously, an incentive for firms to run the clock rather than solve problems. I say "tendentiously" because this assumes lawyers put their own very short-sighted self-interest ahead of professional responsibility, ahead of a satisfied client, and ahead of simple integrity in their professional dealings. In my experience, to the extent time-sheets did not reflect utter reality to the second decimal place, it was because lawyers engaged in self-administered haircuts on the time they'd actually spent, fearing they'd look inexperienced or simply making an on-the-spot judgment about what the activity they'd performed "was really worth."
  
  
• It starts from "cost of production" rather than "value to client." This, to me, is its core economic failing. To be sure, no firm can long sell its products or services at less than "cost of production," but unless you're in an absolutely commmoditized industry, that is the merest of starting points.
  
  
• It's dehumanizing, reducing talented and highly educated professionals to fungible units as factors of production. Worse, it contains no rewards for brilliance, insight, judgment, or even plain old efficiency. Lawyers have every incentive to work day and night, and no incentive to recharge their batteries, take in a performance of "Trovatore," read "The Merchant of Venice" or The Federalist Papers, or simply enjoy a moment outdoors in the sunshine. We can debate whether, in the long run, this will produce pale and narrow automatons or whether utter and uncompromised dedication to a profession, 24/7, is the only route to serious excellence, but the point is that decision should be made by each individual with free will unfettered by the hands of a stopwatch.
  
  
• Ultimately, it limits law firms' revenue. (Clients--you can skip this paragraph.) Each of the variables that goes into revenue under the billable hour model has intrinsic limits: Rates, hours, realization, and leverage. This is worth a separate column, or more, of its own, so I'll go no further here.
  
  

Are we, then, about to witness in some grandiose fashion the "death" of the billable hour, much less its dropping back into the shadows of small-beer practices or quaint and creaky backwaters?

As you can tell by how I phrased the question, I see no such incipient revolution. And the primary source of life-support I would cite is clients, not law firms. Indeed, if there's a single remark in the Times article that's wrong-headed at best and offensive at worst, this is it:

[There's a] risk to law firms experimenting with other payment arrangements: If lawyers set too low a price, they lose money. Many lawyers may not be good enough businessmen to pick the right price, said [Frederick] Krebs, [President] of the Association of Corporate Counsel.

"The difficulty is, we don't really know what it costs us to do something," he said.

Wrong on the count that we don't really know what things cost, and wrong on stilts that lawyers aren't good enough businessmen to set a fair price.

First, if you believe that actuarial science has continued to survive and thrive for centuries for a reason, and that statistics, while subject to abuse for rhetorical or polemical means, are fundamentally a powerful tool, then you subscribe to the notion that we can tell "what things cost."

Second, if you believe lawyers can't set a price that both profits their firms and continues to win loyal clients, I would ask you to explain how the share of GDP going to lawyers, as well as the total percentage of lawyers as a component of the workforce, have continued to grow essentially unabated (well, until the last six months...) throughout our lifetimes.

So where, then, do I think the future of the billable hour lies?

As the old political joke has it, "You can't beat somebody with nobody," and part of the billable hour's durability to date has been a failure of imagination in nominating "somebody" to run against it.

But for the first time in awhile, "somebody," in various guises, are appearing. Here are just a few suggestions:

• Flat fees for a large portfolio of litigation over time and space.
  • Imagine you could handle all of Wal-Mart's employment litigation west of the Mississippi for three years (a made-up example). With the help of some of our good friends the actuaries, you could put a reasonable, albeit approximate, price on that.
  • But beyond that, imagine how landing that contract would change our firm's behavior the day after signing: All of a sudden, your incentive would not be to let Wal-Mart slide carelessly into court, ramping up your billable hours, but precisely the contrary--to keep them out of court, because going to court costs you dearly against your fixed-price contract.
  • Wouldn't you, then, embark on a campaign of employment-law compliance counseling at Wal-Mart?
  • And did you notice how this aligns the client's and the firm's interests? All of a sudden there's genuine risk-sharing: The more the client is sued (unpleasant and expensive), the harder the law firm has to work and the less profitable it is (unpleasant and expensive).
    
    
• An 80/120 deal.
  • With a willing and innovation-friendly client, agree that such and such a matter should cost, say, $1-million, but ask them to pay your firm as progress fees just 80% of that as the matter proceeds.
  • When it's done, the client gets--in its sole discretion--to evaluate how successful the outcome was for them. If they don't like it very much, they've paid your firm 80% and the matter is closed.
  • But if they like the result a lot, they pay you 120%.
  • And of course, 99% of the time, they pay you more than 80% but less than 120%.
  • What do you wager that the average recovery your firm would make on deals like that would exceed 100%? I would happily take that bet, as everyone working on the matter at our firm will know that this is a client they have to please.

There are surely other models inventive minds can think of.

The billable hour is dead. Long live the billable hour.

Perspective

Perspective.

It's time for some.

A friend of mine who's the lead financial reporter for one of the original three networks prompts these thoughts. Not that he/she subscribes to the view that it's time for some "perspective"--au contraire. To paraphrase their view: "We're in a severe recession. This is not the time to be sanguine, it's the time to be alarmist. [And] In terms of investments, it's time to go to CD's; if you've already lost 40% in equities, you want to get out; you don't want the 40% to become 60%."

Now, we all react in our individual ways to once-in-a-career times like these, and if my job were to report on deadline every weeknight to a national television audience about the state of the economy and the financial system, I'd probably not be writing this piece. I'd be writing about how this time is different, and not for the better: That this time is more akin to the Great Depression than to the 70's staglation and OPEC oil price spike, the 80's Volcker-induced shock therapy to stamp out inflation, or the 90's dotcom meltdown. I would, in other words, be writing alarming things.

Since we're still in the middle (the beginning?) of this economic episode, we of course can't know. My call for "perspective" may be delusional and this may be one of those pieces ruefully quoted back to me months or years hence. But I'll go out on a limb.

This chart shows the US per capita GDP in 2000 dollars from 1870 to 2004 (ratio scale), and comes from the new textbook Macroeconomics by Charles Jones:

The trendline is 2%/year growth, and the only real deviation visible to the naked eye is the 1929-1933 Great Depression--and even after that, the trendline quickly returned to normal. Every other recession appears as little more than a blip or a rounding error.

What does this tell us?

It scarcely "proves" that this time is nothing to worry about, but it does suggest that, my friend the financial reporter's views to the contrary notwithstanding, the "animal spirits" of capitalism (John Maynard Keynes' felicitous phrase) will arise again. Assets will be bought and sold. Companies will be started, grow, and decline. Capital will flow from country to country and industry to industry. New financial instruments will be created. New regulatory structures will govern. Globalization will not cease.

In all of these activities, lawyers and law firms will be enablers, facilitators, innovators, brokers, handmaidens, and creators.

I'm not gainsaying the challenges, and for those of you in leadership positions in firms these days, this is surely the time you'll earn your keep. What I'm saying is:

• Be not apocalyptic.
  
  
• Manage your partners' expectations. If next year is tantamount to a return to 2003, we'll all live.
  
  
• Recruit carefully, prudently, assiduously, but keep recruiting. Talent is your lifeblood. Do not shut if off.
  
  
• Communicate, communicate, communicate, to your partners, associates, and staff, about how the firm is doing. (Yes, some of it will hit "Above The Law" in a nanosecond, but that's a topic for another day.)
  
  
• Communicate with your clients. They're anxious as well; let them know you're in the same boat. A little bit of sympathy about cost-cutting pressures wouldn't hurt as well.

It all depends, perhaps, on your perspective. If it's the nightly news, it's one thing. If it's the arc of a career, it's another. Stay true to which is yours.

Beyond continuing to hypothesize duelling views of future realities, let's look at the historical record (with help from McKinsey).

Financial crises, to begin with, are not that rare:  On average, they occur every decade to one major economy or another.  And while this promises to be among the more severe, a lesson from the 20th Century is that how bad things will get depends largely on the governmental response. 

At this point (December 2008), according to Bloomberg, US financial instiutions have taken total credit-crisis related write-offs of almost $1-trillion.  McKinsey estimates the total required amount of writeoffs will be between $1.4 and $2.2 trillion, or 10—15% of US GDP.  Historically, in the past century that level of writeoffs was exceeded only three times:

• During the early 1990's banking crisis in Japan that initiated its "lost decade;"
• In the Asian financial crisis of the late 1990's;
• And of course in the Great Depression.

In the first two, writeoffs in the affected banking sectors were 15 and 35% of GDP respectively; in the Great Depression, about 20%.

But from the perspective of the functioning economy, the real question for companies is not what's happening in the banking sector but what's happening to the availability of credit:

How long it takes an economy to emerge from a downturn depends heavily on what kind of cleanup and stimulus package governments employ--especially in repairing the banking system's ability to provide credit efficiently and restoring confidence among companies and consumers. On average, countries have needed two years to emerge from past recessions after major banking crises and up to twice as long to return to trend growth. Only in two cases did a downturn last substantially longer: in Japan during the lost decade, as a result of counterproductive government policies, and in the Great Depression, when the government was far less able to mount a coordinated response than it is today.

And with respect to stock markets—the high-profile indicator that everyone including our financial reporter friend pays attention to—we are also, apparently, in a quite well-precedented downturn:

Equity markets are the most visible and dramatic indicators as crises unfold. At the end of October 2008, the S&P 500 index had fallen by 46 percent from its peak a year before (October 9, 2007, to October 27, 2008). By late November 2008, the US equity market had given up almost all of its gains since the 2001-02 dot-com bust. Although nobody knows if the market has reached bottom, the fall so far isn't unusual by historical standards. Japan's Nikkei 225 fell by 48 percent from peak to trough (December 29, 1989, to October 1, 1990) during the banking crisis, though the market has subsequently fallen still further; at the end of October 2008, it retained less than 20 percent of the peak value reached in 1999. During the Asian financial crisis, the equity markets of Indonesia, South Korea, and Thailand fell by 65, 72, and 85 percent, respectively, in local-currency terms. In the United States, the S&P 500 index fell by 49 percent from March 24, 2000, to October 9, 2002, after the tech bubble burst.

Here, as well, are some fascinating and troubling statistics on the housing market.

But reasons for hope still remain, and they're all tied to how the underlying economy is—or isn't—isolated from the financial services sector blow-up.  For example, in the early 1980's S&L crisis, 258 US banks failed or required FDIC assistance and during the entire decade of the 1980's 750 failed and more than 1,500 required assistance (vs. 35 during the entire decade of the 1970's), yet corporate investment continued to increase at an annual rate of 4.5% in the 1980's. How well prepared are we today?  Surprisingly well:  US industrial companies have higher interest coverage and lower leverage than they did going into the dot-com bust or the S&L crisis.

By contrast, one reason the Depression was Great was that business investment fell by more than 75% from 1929 to 1933 because capital had almost nonexistent cross-border mobility and even the soundest of corporate credits couldn't obtain long-term debt financing.  That happening again today appears exceedingly unlikely.

So where does this leave us? 

As we've just all learned, the famous PG Wodehouse character had it right when he said, "never confuse the unlikely with the impossible."  Now that we've all seen shockingly unlikely events unfold, including the end of Wall Street as we knew it, what should we actually be doing?

Your answer depends on how uncertain you feel about the future.

If you feel that what we're going through is a "normal," albeit severe and protracted, recession, we know how to deal with that. Pull in your horns, sit tight, control costs rigorously, and wait for the legal industry (a lagging industry) to pull out after the real economy does.

If on the other hand you feel that we're experiencing a generational or once-in-a-career change in the way high-end legal services are bought and sold, then you need to stand on tiptoes, rather like a sprinter entering the blocks at the starting line of a race, prepared to bolt forward as soon as there's clarity enough (in your mind) to think the starter's pistol has fired. This does not mean you need to be inattentive to costs, any more than sprinters are inattentive to weight, or complacent about your current exalted standings. At the starting line, you have no standing; all are equal, at 0:00.

This is where I actually think we are. We are all about to begin running a new race, one where incumbency will count for far less than it used to, and where a premium will be put on agility, speed, and foresight. Because this race, once the starter's pistol fires, will be run in heavy fog, with visibility just yards down the track and the positions of your competitors, be they ahead of or behind you, difficult to discern moment to moment. But the time to start training, to make your firm more agile and alert and responsive, is now.

Rumors of Its Demise

"Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated."
—Mark Twain, in a cable from London to US publishers, who had mistakenly printed his obituary.

And so, for the entirety of my career, has it been the case with predictions of the demise of the billable hour.  If the best predictor of what will happen is what just has happened, then the billable hour is here for keeps.  But I wonder.

If you can say nothing else about what's going on now, you can say that the volume of the dialogue about alternatives to the billable hour has never been higher.

Last month the Association of Corporate Counsel announced their "Value Challenge," through, among other venues, an interview with Susan Hackett, their GC. Some of her comments included:

Value from the corporate perspective means receiving a solution that addresses the client's problem-for an appropriate cost. [...] Take a look at the cost of legal services and the fact that they've been rising 6, 7, 8 percent a year, for as long as anyone can remember. But the services remain pretty much the same. And at the same time that outside firms' costs are rising, the in-house law departments are getting better at their efficiencies and at lowering their costs. [...]

We also want to measure whether people are starting to do more of their work on a non-hourly basis. It¹s one metric. I¹m not saying billable hours is the entire project, but it¹s one good way to look at this. [...] You would see a lot less work done on the billable-hour basis, but I don¹t know what alternative billing will look like.

I don't know about you, but it sounds like "billable hours is the entire project."

Consider another perspective: The dehumanization that comes with the billable hour. And dehumanization it is, is it not? Doesn't it tell people that they're fungible commodities? To be sure, their hourly rates vary, but they're all and every reducible to cogs in the machine. No rewards for specific insight, no discounts for slogging through it, no premiums for remarkable efficiencies. You are your watch.

Or consider the perspective of the intersection of the core years to partnership tournament with the key family formation and child-bearing years. At the moment, these two critical life trajectories tend to overlap in people's lives. Both are intensely time-consuming. Their intersection is, for many people, unsustainable; they are forced to choose one or the other.

Don't misunderstand; I'm not suggesting that the pressures of the path to partnership years--and the partnership years themselves--can be substantially ameliorated, minimized, or underestimated. There is no substitute for hard work if one wants to achieve professional performance at the level partnership entails. But what I am suggesting is that the billable hour model exacerbates the tension between familly and work precisely at the time it matters most. Without it, contributions could be more readily recognized "on the merits," without the quota of hours in the office or on the BlackBerry.

Two other perspectives are, I believe, more important and will be more consequential. One results from the tsunami of changes in the complexion of the financial services industry in the last year and the other results from an inherent structural problem with the billable hour model for firms themselves.

Financial Services

The industry is unrecognizable from its form a year ago. Bear Stearns, Lehman, Merrill Lynch, gone, and Morgan Stanley and Goldman Sachs essentially far different from what they were. Balance sheet leverage ratios of 30:1 or 40:1 are ancient history. New regulations, of forms we can't yet predict, are certain. Old forms of regulation may go by the wayside, but the net result, to be sure, will be an overall increase in oversight.

Which brings me back to the billable hour: If financial services comprise a substantial part of your clientele, look forward to their being more heavily regulated than before. With congressional oversight. Care to explain to, say, Barney Frank, why $1,000/hour is a fair and economically justified rate? Wouldn't you far prefer to explain why (say) $750,000 as a flat fee on a $50-million transaction is reasonable?

Also, Bank of America buys legal services very differently than did Merrill Lynch. RFP's, beauty contests, bakeoffs, diversity quotas, expectations about first and second year associates (don't bother putting them on the bill), and so forth: It will be a new world.

Structural Issues

I have long predicted that the demise of the billable hour will only come about when law firms find it in their own self-interest to call a halt, and perhaps at last the stars are beginning to align. Consider the four variables that determine your firm's revenue and profitability under the billable hour model:

• Rates;
• Hours;
• Realization; and
• Leverage

Faithful readers will know that I've pointed out that all four of these variables have intrinsic limits:

• Rates: $1,000/hour? £1,000/hour? At some point there is a limit to clients' stomach for it.
• Hours: 2,200/year, 2,600. 3,000? At some point the body rebels, and the talent pool capable of sustaining these super-human schedules thins out.
• Realization: >100%? I think not.
• Leverage: At what point do associatesl look at the odds and simply check out?

But on the profitability side of the ledger, there are no intrinsic limits.  How high is "too high" for PPP?  Sarah Palin Joe Six-pack probably thinks $2-4-million/year would do just nicely, but when you're a partner at BigLaw regularly rubbing shoulders with hedge fund managers and private equity folks—or plain old Fortune 500 CEOs—you're a piker by comparison. Consider also the baffling silence over the fact that corporate execs get equity in the form of stock, restricted stock, or options.  Lawyers, even the best of them, toil for ordinary income.  Yes, you can make a very respectable income and if you sock it away prudently (we Scotch Presbyterians can give you advice on this if you'd like), you'll end up with a very comfortable nest egg.  But it will have been gained by the sweat of your brow and not the true alchemy of returns on capital.  So we have, under the billable hour model, inherent constraints on revenue but no inherent constraints on the desire for ever-increasing profits.

This brings me to the point: Won't firms find it in their own self-interest to get beyond the billable hour in the pretty darned near future?

Do not, I hasten to add, be afraid. "Alternative billing" is not code for "reduced revenue."

Indeed, we have every reason to expect that getting away from the billable hour will lead to less micro-management of billing, fewer he-said/she-said spats about whether this, that, or the other micro-activity was justified, and less general embarrassment over tiny charges for faxes, messengers, and other costs of doing business.

I'll suggest another reason more potent than "embarrassment" for ditching the billable hour:  Doesn't it fundamentally reflect a lack of trust between your firm and your clients?  Rather than being able to say "For professional services rendered...." and have confidence that hte client will trust you to have put a fair price on things, the billable hour reflects a green eye-shade mentality, notoriously subject to auditing (now, even by bespoke software programs designed to ferret out inconsistencies and discrepancies of the most minute and trivial nature).  The billable hour, I believe, starts from a relationship of mistrust:  "See, we can prove we actually did the work!"  And the GC or other inhouse counsel can, in turn, tell their finance department, "Yes, see, they really did the work." 

This is not the premise from which mature relationships of trust and confidence arise. 

At the risk of piling on, I'll suggest yet another reason the billable hour disserves our profession:  Economically, it begins life with "cost of production" rather than "value to client."  Except for the rawest and most basic of commodities, "cost of production" should have virtually nothing to do with price.  (OK, before the microeconomists in the audience start piling on, permit me to issue the immediate caveat that, in a  perfectly competitive marketplace, price will equal marginal cost of production, but I stoutly question the assumption that the marketplace for services of BigLaw is remotely "perfectly competitive.")

To be sure, firms need to meet their costs and then some to make a profit, permit reinvestment in their businesses, and appropriately reward their owners and investors.  In this technical sense, then, "cost of production" is clearly a relevant variable when determining price.  Price best exceed cost of production by a reasonable margin if the firm is to survive as a going economic entity.  But for price to be mathematically determined to the second decimal place by "cost of production" is flatly irrational.  Worse, it ignores (again) what the perceived value of the services is to the client.

Now, don't pretend you can't put a value on those services.  We value complex baskets of goods and services all the time, and markets for those goods are highly liquid.  Why is a haircut at "Frederic Fekkai" on East 57th Street worth hundreds and hundreds of dollars while one with Sal the barber on Upper Broadway is worth $30 including a hefty tip? 

Finally, a failure to bill "for professional services rendered" represents, I must believe in my heart of hearts, a failure of courage.  Do you mistrust what your services are worth?  Do you mistrust whether your client agrees with your perception of their value?

If that is the root cause of the continued dominance of the billable hour, then we have far more work to do than turning off "timeslips elite."  But for the health of our profession, for our self-respect, and for the benefit of clients, turn it off we ultimately must.

What's Your Attrition Rate Lately?

An unspoken, and certainly uncelebrated, aspect of the law firm associate personnel model is built-in attrition. "Built-in" can have two traditional meanings, and one new one:

• Traditional A: They wash out of their own accord, because of a variety of factors:
  • they've paid off their student loans, and so the music for the dance they signed up for in their own minds has ended;
  • ambitious as they thought they were for partnership, the hours are more than they bargained for (and partnership would only be more of the same--the famous "pie-eating contest where the reward is more pie");
  • they basically like it, but find they don't have true passion for it, and contrasted to those who do, they'll lose;
  • they realize that the years of key family formation coincide with the years to partnership and they choose the family track.
• Traditional B: They're not cutting it and they're excused.
• New Meaning: There has been zero attrition.

Welcome to the new reality of attrition. There isn't any. I was recently talking with the Chair of a firm that would normally experience the departures of 30 or 40 associates over a typical six months. For the past six months? Zero: Not one. The concept of "built-in" attrition is suddenly broken.

So: What to do?

First, one can simply acknowledge, from an economic and a human perspective, that this is entirely understandable.

Warren Buffett likes to say that Aesop was a poor economist because the question of whether a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush depends on when the two will be delivered and what one's discount rate is in the interim. But one thing we can say with certainty today is that a job in the hand is next to priceless. So much for starry-eyed visions of ditching the law firm to join the hedge fund or the private equity firm.

But the question remains: What are you going to do about it?

Logically, you can attack this with how you handle three pools of talent:

• Your investments in summer associate and first-year hiring;
• The level of your interest in the lateral associate market; and
• What you do about your incumbent (and non-attriting) associates.

Easiest is to alter your policy towards lateral associates: Go from choosy to hyper-picky. Only those with spectacular credentials in desperately needed practice areas get even a second look.

The intersection of summer and first-year hiring, and the ranks of your incumbents, is where it gets interesting. A rational view is that your 3rd through 6th years (say) are by and large known quantities, trained and raised in your firm to your standards and liking, and that excusing any of them in order to make room for fresh-faced question marks who are, not incidentally, very difficult to charge out to clients in this environment, is borderline lunatic behavior. You are demonstrating disloyalty to those who have survived at least the first few rounds of their 15-round bout, to make a largely uninformed bet on raw clay.

I beg to differ.

We've all read ad nauseum about the stunning virtues of just-in-time delivery in manufacturing supply-chain land. Our industry is the polar opposite.

Our "supply chain" (associate talent) is three to six to ten years long, depending on where you deem it reasonable to draw the start and finish lines. That is to say, it takes that span of years to take a human being from potential-lawyer-in-essence to actual, performing contributor to clients and the firm.

The relevance of this to today's personnel challenge, I submit, is that you cannot introduce a gap into that supply chain. You need to be in the business of continually recruiting new talent, in order to feed the continually moving production line of senior to mid-level to junior staff needed to manage cases and transactions. You cannot, in other words, inflict on your own firm the equivalent of a "lost generation."

So counter-intuitive as it may seem, I recommend continuing to feed the associate pipeline from the start, summer associates and first-year hires, even at the cost of some mid-year enforced "attrition." Aside from what I believe to be sound long-term reasons to continue investing in the firm's future in this way, there are as well both an abstract and a prudential argument for same.

The "abstract," or logical, reason to keep recruiting new talent is that some of it is bound to be better than your existing talent. It simply has to be the case. (If you think every single lawyer in your associate ranks is the best they could possibly be, stop reading now.) You may be satisfied with Bob 3rd-year or Emily 4th-year right now, but how do you know they're as good as Dave 1st-year or Melanie summer associate will be at their level?

When I spoke about your "supply chain," I wasn't speaking metaphorically. If clients are your demand, talent is your supply. Econ 101. Your "supply" (talent) is what you have to sell. You have few higher priorities than increasing the quality of that supply or, as a friend of mine likes to say, "enhancing the gene pool."

A prudential reason argues for the same continue-to-recruit policy: If your firm shuts down recruiting, be prepared for the market to have a long memory and for it to punish you when the good times return. (If you doubt this, recall that some firms were still suffering reputational dings for having laid off people after the dot-com meltdown half a dozen years later.)

Another reason to continue early-stage recruiting is the positive, optimistic, and confirming message it sends to your firm internally, to the marketplace, and to any other constituencies (potential clients?) whose opinion you value. Loud and clear, it says, "We are investing for the future, confident in the long-term value of our firm and what we provide to our clients."

Make no mistake about the power of this message in today's environment, when century-old firms are imploding and, as Jay Zimmerman, Chair of Bingham, recently put it: "We're starting to see a trend of people [changing] firms because they're not confident in the vision their current firm has of the future."

Now is not the time, in other words, to shut down the processes that feed your talent pool. Now is not the time to act as anything other than a vibrant, going concern. Now is in fact the chance to upgrade the "gene pool."

No voluntary attrition? I'm sorry to report that your business model depends on attrition, and attrition there must be.

Unless you'd prefer to reinvent the model entirely, in which case: We can talk.

Lessons From Citi

Consider a nonrandom selection of headlines from The New York Times, The Financial Times, andThe Wall Street Journal:

• Citigroup Pays for a Rush to Risk
• Citigroup Tries to Steady Stock
• Turmoil Continues in Banking Sector
• Citigroup: You Can't Step Into the Same Crisis Twice, Right?
• Citi crisis deepens as shares fall further
• Pandit denies break-up as Citi tumbles

Aside from the obvious, that these articles all revolve around Citi, they have, I suggest, one core theme in common: An erosion of trust in Citi. Theobvious question is whether this skepticism is warranted. Some think not:

"The earnings power is there," said Charles Peabody, a financial services analyst at Portales Partners. "It's a question of getting through the credit issues."

But is that the right question? Trust may be intangible, but it's an intangible with extraordinarily powerful repercussions. Trust is granted by grace, not demanded or usurped by fiat, can only be cultivated over an extended period of time, and can be forfeited in a heartbeat (Exhibit A: Eliot Spitzer).

Now,this may seen an exercise in rehearsing the obvious, but at times a return to first principles is in order.

We sit astride or at least within firms which may have hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt per partner, and extensive long-term lease obligations, often in far-flung networks of offices, yet whose assets voluntarilly choose each morning which building to enter and which elevator bank to go to.

As Citi's recent experience deonstrates, these are not abstract issues.

How, then, can you reinforce the cultural glue that brings people back to your offices every day?

I submit you have two tools at your disposal: (1) Communication; and (2) Behavioral Incentives.

Communication means constantly telllingpeople how the firm is doing and reinforcing that message at every opportunity you have.

Be candid, or don't bother. People have shockingly acute sensitivity to insincerity, and an incomplete or half-hearted effort will do more harm than good.

If there are challenges facing the firm, explan them. Call for collaborative action and, if necessary, shared sacrifice. You'd be amazed at people's ability and willingness to rise to the occasion when hard times are at hand.

How will you know if your message is getting through? Ask them. Ask your partners, associages, and staff if they feel they understand the firm's situation, meaning the external threats and opportunities, and the internal strengths and weaknesses. And, of course, your plans for addressing those threats and weaknesses.

Afraid that if you communicate it will appear on Above The Law in no time?

Get over it.

We live in the YouTube/Above The Law era, but that does not relieve you of your obligation and your duty to lead. It makes it more challenging and more risky, but if anything even more necessary. I've written that information abhors a vacuum, and the unprecedented availability of channels for near-instantaneous distribution of rumors or innuendo increases, not decreases, the burden on you to tell the firm's story. If you're clear, consistent, candid, and direct, Above The Law won't be able to lay a glove on you. (If you disagree, permit me to ask you whether your time-frame is that of months and years, appropriate to managing a firm, or that of Above The Law itself, which is hours or minutes.)

Second, Behavioral Incentives: Reward (read: pay for) the behavior you want.

As an economist, I can't help but reflect the reality that I'm ingrained with the power of incentives. This brings us back to Citigroup:

To some, the misery at Citigroup is no surprise. Lynn Turner, a former chief accountant with the Securities and Exchange Commission, said the bank's balkanized culture and pell-mell management made problems inevitable.

"If you're an entity of this size," he said, "if you don't have controls, if you don't have the right culture and you don't have people accountable for the risks that they are taking, you're Citigroup."

A more serious problem was whether the bank, assembled from a potpourri of financial services firms by Sandy Weill, ever came together as one coherent entity:

Even as Citigroup's C.D.O. stake was expanding, its top executives wanted more profits from that business. Yet they were not running a bank that was up to all the challenges it faced, including properly overseeing billions of dollars' worth of exotic products, according to Citigroup insiders and regulators who later criticized the bank.

When Mr. Prince was put in charge in 2003, he presided over a mess of warring business units and operational holes, particularly in critical areas like risk-management and controls.

"He inherited a gobbledygook of companies that were never integrated, and it was never a priority of the company to invest," said Meredith A. Whitney, a banking analyst who was one of the company's early critics. "The businesses didn't communicate with each other. There were dozens of technology systems and dozens of financial ledgers."

As an example of how "Citi" never integrated, it's been reported that in China the mortgage unit and the credit card unit couldn't even agree on a common consumer-fronting language: One used Mandarin and the other Cantonese.

This brings us back to law firms.

Are your firm's incentives aligned to encourage people to collaborate, or to give them reason to hoard business? Do you keep track of partners who "give away" business they've originated to other partners/offices/practice areas to handle? Do you reward them for doing so? Or, contrariwise, to you have perpetual origination credits, rewarding partners or heirs of partners in perpetuity for entrepreneurial achievements now lost in the sands of time?

I suggest now is not the time to indulge in such hereditary droits du seigneur. If the unfolding lesson of Citi is anything, it's that unclear and blinkered management, perverse incentives, and a failure to enforce and communicate a firm-wide vision can catch up with you in sour times.

Care to guess how fast the sour times are going to end?

How's Your 2008 Shaping Up?

We have our first comprehensive report on how 2008 is shaping up financially, courtesy of The American Lawyer, and Dan DiPietro of Citi's Private Bank, and it paints a picture of what are soon going to be, if they aren't already, vastly diminished expectations.

Let's set the scene.

Since 2001, we've enjoyed overall consecutive year over year growth rates at almost double digit levels in practically every metric that counts. Here are the CAGR (compound annual growth rate) figures for the 2001 to 2007 time span:

• Revenue: 10.6%
  • YTD 2008: 4.8%
• Gross billable hour demand: 3.9%
  • YTD 2008: -0.3%
• PEP: 9.3%
  • YTD 2008: -9.1%
• Growth in the ranks of equity partners: 2.9%
  • YTD 2008: 1.7%
• Associate compensation (roughly 23% of total firm revenues): 10.1%
  • YTD 2008: 15.2%

Now all of these trends have turned negative:

• Revenue growth has reversed, with demand the weakest since 2001
• Since firms have continued to add lawyers, there's "profit margin compression"--lower revenues hit higher expenses

And, fascinatingly:

The slowdown is hitting the most profitable firms the hardest. In the first half of 2008, demand dropped off even more dramatically and expenses increased at a more rapid pace at the top firms, resulting in even greater margin compression and a steeper drop in productivity than experienced by their less profitable rivals. The practice areas that normally provide a lift in a downturn -- restructuring, bankruptcy and litigation -- have not helped cushion the drop-off in transactional work.

It's not just a failure of the classic countercyclical practice areas to kick in; there appears to be a structural component involved as well.

When firms are broken out by profitability, our data produced an interesting finding. The firms that soared in 2002 through 2007 were harder hit in the first half of 2008 than their less profitable peers. From our sample of 165 firms, we broke out 63 top-tier firms (defined as those with profits per equity partner above $650,000 in the year 2000). Over the past six years, this group has consistently produced higher growth in revenues and PPEP than other firms.

That changed dramatically in the first half of 2008. Growth in PPEP for 51 of the 63 top-tier firms that reported their results to us plummeted from an 11.7 percent increase in 2007 to an 11.8 percent drop in the first six months of 2008. In contrast, their less profitable rivals experienced a 5.3 percent drop in PPEP in the first half of 2008. After reaching a seven-year peak of 7.4 percent growth in 2007, demand at top-tier firms actually dropped 1.6 percent in the first half of 2008. Again, this decline compares unfavorably with the 1.1 percent rise in gross billable hours at the other firms in our sample.

Top-tier firms experienced even greater profit margin compression than their peers, with revenue growth of 4.3 percent and an increase in expenses of 10.9 percent. In contrast, the other firms we surveyed had revenue growth of 5.5 percent and a rise in expenses of 9.1 percent. Demand at top-tier firms declined in both the first and second quarters of 2008, in contrast to their less profitable competitors, for whom demand dipped in the first three months but increased in the second three months.

The posited explanation is that since firms with the highest profitability tend to concentrate on serving the financial services industry's demand for transactional work, they are suffering disproportionately from the freeze gripping that sector. This rings convincingly true to me. And the data support it: Hours per lawyer have dropped 8% at these top-tier firms compared to a decline of 2.9% elsewhere.

One last observation from the report and then some commentary.

What Citi defines as "international" firms, with between 10 and 25% of their lawyers abroad, "experienced greater profit margin compression than any other group of firms." By contrast, "global" firms, with more than 25% of their lawyers abroad, have experienced the least profit margin compression.

If you assume that firms just beginning, or in the early stages, of international expansion are focused on the UK and the EU, this makes some sense: Those geographies are experiencing a similar, though not as sharp, a slowdown as we here in the US. So their geographic diversity hasn't helped much. By contrast, if you think Citi's definition of "global" firm identifies firms farther down the globalization path, they're likely to have substantial presences in Asia and the MidEast--areas anything but suffering from the Western economies' downturn.

More importantly, this speaks to the power of a diversified portfolio of practices--both by specialty and by geography.

So: What's to be done?

Since you can't create a truly compelling international platform by yourself overnight, you have one aggressive and one passive option. The aggressive one is to carefully, thoughtfully, and thoroughly explore a potential merger with a firm that, together with yours, would provide that international platform.

Globalization is here to stay, and the notion of a powerhouse firm based primarily in one country--no matter how large the domestic economy--will increasingly become a mark of irrelevance.

The more passive, or perhaps I should say more cautious, response is simply to do what you can to cut costs.

There's just one problem with cutting costs: Your biggest costs are (a) people and (b) office space.

You can't cut corners on either one. And, as many firms learned to their lasting chagrin after the dot-com bust, if you cut associate ranks drastically to improve short-term results, you have no mid-level bench strength when the good times return. Neither your clients nor people in your recruiting pipeline--nor partners who have to turn down work or over-stress their colleagues--forget this soon.

Which brings me to the real point.

Firms that are "suffering" (down 10% in profits?--let's get a grip, people) are probably in that situation because they made bets--hopefully calculated--to concentrate on practice areas that were hot. That's all well and good, if they were consciously chosen bets placed with an understanding of the odds of their coming up snake-eyes.

Managing a sophisticated law firm is not remotely a quarter by quarter exercise, and it's also not a year by year one. It requires explicit, considered, hard thought through choices about what your firm is, what it's capable of, and what it can credibly and realistically aspire to given your client base, your recruiting pipeline, and a clear-eyed view of your partners' and associates' appetite for change.

And then it requires a consistent communications effort, forceful, undeviating, adapted to different audiences at different times but indistinguishable in thrust. You need to be shockingly clear about the vision, able to crisply articulate it, relentless in communicating, and prepared to reinforce it all with carrots and sticks.

Come to think of it, maybe it's easier just to cut costs.

The Thirty Years' Associates Salaries War

Put these trends together, as reported by this month's issue of The American Lawyer, and what do you get?

• Midlevel associates, despite their pay jump since 2006, aren't satisfied with with their compensation;
• New York City salary levels have penetrated every major market across the country;
• The annual midlevel associate survey "shows associates eyeing the door;" and
• Howrey is continuing its revolutionary efforts to end associate lockstep.

I suggest you get what could be the beginning of cataclysmic cracks in the associate compensation/promotion/professional development model.

Shall we start with the easy stuff?

According to The Paycheck Report,

"Finally, everyone's being paid like a New York lawyer. Thanks to an informal wage freeze in the country's largest market, midlevels in other major cities caught up to the salaries of their New York counterparts this year, although they still lag behind in bonuses.[...]

"Even though New York salaries were flat, the data shows healthy pay increases elsewhere, as non-New York medians caught up with those in New York--$185,000 for third-years, $210,000 for fourth-years, and $230,000 for fifth-years. For midlevels outside of New York, those are one-year increases of 9 percent, 11 percent, and 10 percent, respectively. Nationally, median bonuses increased 17 percent for third-years, 21 percent for fourth-years, and 14 percent for fifth-years."

Next, we have the report from the front lines that even associates in firms receiving "going rate" salaries aren't satisfied if they don't receive going rate bonuses. You may be asking yourself whether the notion of a "going rate bonus" isn't an oxymoron, and I would be the first to agree with you.

At risk of revealing how far back my memory goes, and worse, at risk of appearing a curmudgeon, I do recall the days when bonuses were individually determined based on--quelle horreur--individual performance. But that was then and this is now. This says it all: "'Compensation is too low for the New York office' notes one Blank Rome associate. 'The bonus is not a market bonus, even if the salary is a market salary,' says another." As they say hereabouts: "Deal!" (Not as in, "you're on," but as in, "deal with it.")

The issue is not one of pay for performance, but one of comparative envy. And, to a large extent, of shocking law student ignorance about the differences between firms in training, culture, professional development, opportunities for partnership, strength of the alumni network, value of the firm's "pedigree" for future options, chances to spend some time in an overseas office, and so many other things that are critically important to one's future career.

So it comes down to money: "Students can’t easily differentiate between prospective employers, so they rely too much on pay as an indicator of prestige. Competitive and clueless, students are "the most uneducated consumers of law firm life and what it really means to practice," says a Simpson Thacher & Bartlett midlevel."

But associates may actually be the most brutally honest realists about what's going on. If their careers in BigLaw are destined to be "nasty, brutish, and short," they may be being perfectly rational. We all know that the odds of equity partnership are asymptotically approaching zero:

“We’re like pro athletes,” says a Jenner & Block midlevel. “Only a few will make equity partner, and [most] will have a limited amount of time at a big firm.” In that scenario, the growing paycheck becomes a substitute for an enduring career with a single firm."

In other words, you can buy allegiance--temporarily, and I hate to call it loyalty--by paying salaries that are arbitrarily and capriciously set by a "going rate" market that changes in unpredictable and unforeseeable epileptic seizures, but don't kid your associates that they're anything other than hired brain meat, the vast majority of whom will burn out from career-ending morale injuries. This is the problem:

"[T]he message from management was, 'We're just doing [the raise] because the market is doing it,'" recalls another Jenner [& Block] associate. "They're not raising because they value us. We're just the collective beneficiary because the firm needs to keep up in the market. It’s a back-handed compliment."

OK, I put it harshly, but is this any way to sustain and grow a superb, world-class professional services firm?

And what ever happened to the old dream of making partner after serving your years at Parris Island boot camp?

Maybe that doesn't hold the delayed-gratification appeal it used to, either. Start with the twin facts that: (a) partnership is not the tenured position it used to be, with de-equitizations rampant; and (b) partners work only marginally lower hours than associates, and have more non-billable hour responsibilities, so, in the famous joke, the achievement is seen as "a pie-eating contest where the reward is more pie."

This sums up the change in the mindset:

When Arnold & Porter's director of professional development, Caren Ulrich Stacy, started working in law firm recruiting in the mid-'90s, she says there was one question that she could count on hearing from every incoming associate, be it a new law school recruit or a potential lateral hire: How long does it take to make partner here? But today, Ulrich Stacy says, it goes largely unasked. "I've maybe had that question once in the past five years," she says.

It seems not to be a mask for insecurity. Associates still report (70+%) that they're "on partnership track," and even in today's straitened economy fewer than a quarter say their hours are lower, while fully a third say their hours have increased.

So if it's not insecurity, it's what?

Lack of desire: They may not want partnership.

For one thing, they see some junior partners working even more ferocious hours than their own. "There have been times when I have been watching a movie late at night that I've gotten an e-mail from a partner," says a Latham and Watkins third-year ... Adds a midlevel [at another firm]l: "When you see how many hours [junior partners] put in, you realize there really is no end to it."

Yet isn't there more to life as an associate, and as a partner, than grinding out the hours? The happy news is yes. And there may be hope that those firms willing to work on what that "more" is may be able to put together career paths that make financial, emotional, and professional sense for associates and financial and client-service sense for the firms.

Here are some clues:

"The professional development programs are all well and good," says one Arnold & Porter midlevel. "But in terms of learning the craft, you can't beat learning through a real-life experience and working on client matters."

And this:

"I wanted a place that would treat me like an adult, as opposed to a place that would hold my hand for three or four years before letting me do anything of substance," says one Gibson Dunn midlevel.

And this:

Howrey chief professional development officer Heather Bock adds that the pitch to this generation of associates has to include more than just a prospect of partnership. The question Bock asks herself: "What is it that we can offer these high achievers that will appeal to them?" One of Howrey's answers is to offer a two-to-three-day intensive academy each year of an associate's career. (The firm ranks in the top third of the survey overall, and in the top 10 in terms of training.) "We try to make it a very high-impact experience," Bock says. "It's very rare for them to come and listen to hours of PowerPoint presentations."

Arnold & Porter even employs two career counselors--former lawyers both--who help associates navigate internally within the firm or even help them plot an exit strategy; and it's all confidential. What do these efforts have in common?

• Treating associates as autonomous adults, not fungible factors of production.
• Giving them the rope to hang themselves, if hang themselves they will.
• Taking "professional development" seriously. It's not about videotapes and PowerPoints.

Take this thought experiment a step further, and broaden it out from one firm to BigLaw in general.

What do associates want?

Essentially, they want two things, in varying mixtures: Money and training.

We're actually very strong, and extraordinarily undifferentiated, at the first, and wildly variable on the second, from firm to firm, department to department, and even partner to partner.

Here's the thought: What if firms chose to position themselves along a two-dimensionally differentiated spectrum from exceptional pay and minimal training to exceptional training and below-market pay?

Wouldn't associates be able to make informed choices about where they wanted to begin their careers, based on their own needs, goals, and aspirations?

Now imagine adding other dimensions to these two simplistic ones:

• Higher or lower partner:associate leverage.
• More or less pro bono work.
• Clarity (this is a challenge to communicate to law students) about whether your firm is focused on corporate, finance, and transactional work, or on litigation and dispute resolution.
• Clarity (again, a challenge) over whether your firm is regional, national, or truly international, and the opportunities (or lack thereof) for, say, spending three years in Hong Kong or moving to the EU for an extended tour.

Associates are complaining that high salaries don't equate to career satisfaction. Is this any surprise? Recall the "back-handed compliment" remark?

Imagine differentiating your firm on dimensions that truly matter, and which you can communicate as:

• credible;
• distinctive to your firm; and
• beneficial to potential associates.

And start thinking about what those dimensions might be pretty soon. Because when the next jump in first-year salaries comes--and it will be to $200,000, I predict--you may want to have other, truly meaningful, differentiators in mind. Other than going to $210,000, that is.

Bubbles

This is about the Cadwalader layoffs.

But I won't be piling on. I really won't.

Instead, I'd rather examine how the firm got to this unhappy pass and what managerial lessons it might hold in store for us. To understand what brought it to cutting fully 20% of its lawyer headcount vs. late 2007, we have to begin, not at the beginning, but at what the firm has just done. Here are the highlights key decisions:

In a statement Wednesday the firm said: "From 2003-2007, when [commercial mortgage-backed securities] issuance tripled, the firm grew rapidly to meet client needs. With CMBS issuance now at a small fraction of previous levels, we are making these personnel adjustments in response to this change in demand. In September 2008, the firm will have 580 lawyers, the same number we were in January 2006."

At the end of 2007, the firm had around 720 lawyers.

Adding to Cadwalader's woes are that Bear Stearns (RIP) and Lehman Brothers, now under siege, were key clients. One unnamed "chairman of another leading New York firm" said that he was not only "stunned" by the scale of Cadwalader's layoffs but added that this economic downturn feels "fundamentally" different than the post-9/11 and post-dot-com falloffs.

"Those were lulls in activity," he said. "This is a fundamental change. A whole segment of capital markets has disappeared and we're not sure when it will come back, in what form or if it will ever come back."

The real challenge to Cadwalader may yet lie ahead. Reportedly, all of the 96 lawyers let go this week (and the 35 let go earlier in the year) were associates or "of counsel." The question this immediately poses is: And not a single partner? Not one? It's possible, of course, that some partners have been "spoken to," and since Cadwalader is not responding to requests for comment, we don't really know.

Yet I promised this would not be about this week and more about how a firm could get into this fix. For that we have to go back to a strikingly revealing interview a year and a half ago profiling Bob Link, then Chairman. The first insight into Link (the article starts in the context of "bowling night out" at Cadwalader) is "'Don't let him fool you,' someone says as Link, 52, takes down another frame. 'He's the most competitive person you'll ever meet.'" Profits per partner were on a tear, at more than $2.5-million in 2005 and $2.9-million 2006. Link had set out to make the firm almost obsessive about profitability. This from the February 2007 profile:

The oldest law firm in America and once one of the most genteel, Cadwalader under Link went through a wrenching and controversial 1990s turnaround during which it transformed itself into perhaps the nation's most aggressively profit-focused law firm. Today's Cadwalader, at which big producers are lavishly rewarded and underperformers are shown the door, presents a stark alternative to the more conservative ways of New York's traditional top-tier firms.

"They are definitely the firm to watch," said the managing partner of one leading New York firm recently overtaken by Cadwalader in the profit charts. "Even though they recognize the business realities, most law firms still hold on to certain ways of doing things. Cadwalader is run like a corporation."

But whether a law firm should be run that way is a question Cadwalader is far from definitively answering. The departure last week of antitrust chief Steven Sunshine, lured to the firm just two years before from Shearman & Sterling and now heading to Skadden, Arps, Slate, Meagher & Flom, underscores persistent criticisms that the firm, while able to attract star laterals with high pay, is unable to build sustainable practices around them.

And Cadwalader's approach has won it a reputation for ruthlessness that suits some but turns off others.

"It's exactly the shark tank that everybody says it is," said former partner Robert Vitale, "If you're a shark, it's great."

Now, of course, Link is no longer Chairman, but the seeds of this week's news were well and firmly planted at least a few years ago. In February 2007, he readily proclaimed the firm's success in concentrating on structured finance:

"Are we going to have difficulty sustaining this?" he asked. "No, short of some cataclysmic event that hits everyone else too."

This puts me in mind of nothing so much as the infamous quote by Chuck Prince, late of Citibank:

"When the music stops, in terms of liquidity, things will be complicated. But as long as the music is playing, you’ve got to get up and dance. We’re still dancing,” (he said in an interview with the FT in July 2007).

Unfortunately, Chuck Prince didn't foresee just how "complicated" things could be. Including forfeiting his job in short order. (Link, as noted, is no longer head of Cadwalader, either.)

Other elements of Cadwalader's pursuit of profits included:

• Very high leverage. Roughly the same size as Davis Polk in total lawyer headcount, Cadwalader had only half as many partners. Link's observation on this: "Why would I have any more partners than I need?"
• The abrupt closing of the firm's 15-lawyer Palm Beach office led to a lawsuit by a former partner (who was awarded $2.4-million) and led to these remarks by the judge overseeing the case: "Such activity cannot be said to be honorable," Palm Beach County Circuit Judge Jack Cook wrote in his 1996 decision. "While life in the marketplace may well be made up of fear, greed and money ... life in a partnership is not so composed."
• Partners with less than $5-million in business were "eased out."

But the question of deepest interest is whether Cadwalader had embarked on a new business model that we all should attend to, and which was unfortunately waylaid by the vagaries of the financial services industry's cyclicality, or whether the model was fundamentally flawed. Eighteen months ago the former partner, Vitale, posed the question thus:

But the difference between Cadwalader and other firms he has been with is still striking to Vitale. Though he said there was no question that Cadwalader had achieved tremendous financial success, he said the firm still seemed to be trying out a "new model."

"It'll be interesting to see whether they've really built something that lasts," he said, "or if it's Finley Kumble in richer clothing."

Getting closer to the point, Link staunchly defended the firm's concentrating its practice on asset-backed and structured finance, and Vitale underscored the difficulty the firm had in accommodating to the investments required to build practices that would diversify its exposure to the markets.

First, Link:

The engine of the firm is its asset-backed structured finance practice. Link made his name in the area and still serves as the firm's practice leader. It is a specialized area ...

It is not generally regarded as a premium practice area like M&A or high-yield bond offerings, and some have questioned how Cadwalader could have achieved such impressive results from that foundation. For the most part, the other major firms in the area are not Sullivan & Cromwell or Simpson Thacher but non-New York firms like Sidley Austin or Orrick, Herrington & Sutcliffe.

The head of another New York law firm described securitization as a high-volume "commodity" practice, an area top firms avoided because of their inability to command premium rates in it.

"Somehow they've managed to make a success of it," he said of Cadwalader.

[...]

According to Link, the firm only wants to be in those areas where it can achieve a similar level of profitability, primarily those revolving around financial institutions. This discipline also explains why the firm has avoided most overseas expansion apart from London and a small office in China. In the United States, Cadwalader also only has offices in Washington, D.C., and banking center Charlotte, N.C., aside from New York.

"All other offices are dilutive," said Link.

And, Vitale:

Cadwalader's tight focus can clash with its attempts to expand into new practice areas. Vitale said it was frustrating trying to push the firm in a direction that required investment but guaranteed no immediate return. The firm did not yield.

"The firm decided that what it needed to do to expand its project finance practice, it wasn't willing to do," said Vitale.

In his case, he said, what the firm needed to do was swallow the pill and open some overseas offices, particularly in Latin America. The firm's unwillingness to do so meant its project finance group had a hard time competing for business with more global firms. Cadwalader could be a lonely place for those outside the humming core practices, he recalled.

And there you have the stark contrast: Link stands for reinvesting and doubling down in highly profitable areas--given the extant market conditions--while Vitale stands for the school of thought that investing in different practice areas could yield dividends down the road.

Today the choice facing Cadwalader is far more stark than the quasi-intellectual debate between Link and Vitale 18 months ago would have you imagine.

But consider this ineluctable responsibility of management: The task of management is to choose. The task of management is to decide. And the task of management is to do so with an eye towards likely future scenarios. Expecting a bubble to continue growing linearly to the sky is a mug's game. "Everyone thought it would grow to the sky," you retort? Goldman Sachs didn't; the vast majority of the AmLaw 200 didn't, and (we learn through recently released emails), even S&P, one of the great enablers of the bubble through their promiscuous granting of investment-grade ratings to toxic CDO's, knew it was a mug's game: "We can't rate this thing, it's a joke." "Don't you know we rate everything? We'd rate this thing if it were put together by cows."

Is it possible Cadwalader's management was thoroughly in the dark about the nature of the structured finance bubble? Were they in touch with their clients? Did they read the WSJ? Did they think strategically beyond what it would take to create a strong and sustainable law firm for the future, other than showing up for work every morning and answering the phone?

In a way, you can compare the Link/Vitale schools of thought to the grasshopper/ant fable that you recall: The ant spent the six months of summer storing up provisions for the winter while the grasshopper lived off the seemingly endless fat of the land. And we know what happens when autumn arrives.

This brings us to Cadwalader today. While it's scurrying to develop new practices, such as private equity, one has to wonder if its cultural DNA is capable of the long-term investments needed.

In the last year, the firm has established a private equity practice led by former Latham & Watkins star R. Ronald Hopkinson, as well as an intellectual property litigation practice comprising several former Morgan & Finnegan partners. The firm also substantially boosted its bankruptcy practice with the recruitment of four partners from Weil, Gotshal & Manges.

But it is unusual for new practices and partners to immediately boost a firm's bottom line, and some question whether Cadwalader acted wisely in investing heavily in private equity, another practice severely impacted by the tightened credit environment.

"You can't just buy some PE guys and present yourself as an alternative to Simpson Thacher to [Kohlberg Kravis Roberts & Co.]," said the [unnamed] firm chairman.

The question, of course, is whether the firm's reputation in the recruiting market will suffer long-term damage from laying off 20% of its lawyers (albeit, as noted, no partners). But the other question is whether those partners reflecting the figurative grasshopper mentality are willing to stick around through what could be, relatively speaking, winter.

The New Whipping Boy?

Earlier this month, I wrote a column "about wringing our hands" (its actual title was How High Quality Are Your Lawyers?  And How Can You Tell?) and I've just received a most thoughtful email from Alec Guettel, one of the co-founders of Axiom Legal, which is extensively discussed in the earlier piece. 

I want to share it with you, but first permit me a few observations. 

Essentially, Alec recaps Axiom's experience in measuring the quality of lawyers--at least as perceived by clients--and provides some refreshingly concrete suggestions, based on hard-earned experience, about how to secure meaningful client feedback.  These valuable observations speak for themselves.

But Alec also takes a roundhouse swing at the famous profits per partner "success metric," which he says "continues to amaze and entertain us.  Increasingly, it seems to be the only metric that matters to firms [even though it] is almost perfectly cross-aligned with the clients' interests." 

Is this actually correct? 

Hasn't PPP become, in some ways, everyone's favorite new whipping boy?  Alec argues that PPP can "basically" be increased by raising rates, raising hours billed per attorney, raising leverage, or cutting costs (which, he says, "we have yet to witness in a meaningful way from top firms").  Are those the only, or the "basic," ways to raise PPP? 

More to the point, what's so bad about PPP, anyway?  The poliltically correct gang is warring with the economic gang, and I wonder whose side you come out on.  Whichever side it is, thanks to Alec for lobbing in the question.

Dear Bruce –

Thanks for what you’re doing with "Adam Smith, Esq." – really interesting and really necessary. 

I was pleased to see your recent post on the failure among clients to measure the quality of legal work they are receiving and the failure among law firms to measure client satisfaction.  You could not be more right that this is a. lacking and b. critical to the improved function of the legal services market.

This is a topic we’ve invested a lot of time and energy thinking about at Axiom so, for what it’s worth, I thought I’d share some of our views.  We’d love to help you catalyze a broader discussion in this area.

After trying some less structured approaches with mixed results (read: abject failure), we began to insist at the outset of our relationships with new clients on a highly structured series of feedback sessions at specified points in each engagement.  These meetings are always in person (otherwise they get cancelled) and after some experimenting, we’ve begun to schedule them for only 10-15 minutes.  This has increased our clients’ enthusiasm for the meetings and forced all the parties into having very focused, prepared, surprisingly productive conversations.  In specified meetings during the process, we have a quantitative review where we walk the client through a survey about technical legal skills, business counsel, responsiveness etc.  We don’t send these quantitative questionnaires to the clients – again, because they’d never get around to filling them out – we walk them through the questions and record the answers.

This process yields superb feedback for our individual attorneys and for Axiom as a firm, and provides a relatively objective measure for performance evaluation and compensation of our people.  As a next step, we’re looking at ways to provide transparency to future clients about the performance of individual Axiom attorneys on prior engagements and about the firm as a whole. 

These lines of thinking have also generated a separate internal discussion about the whole notion of “profits per partner” as a success metric.  The level of importance and pride assigned to the P3 metric by traditional law firms continues to amaze and entertain us.  Increasingly, it seems to be the only metric that matters to firms - a very  public, highly scrutinized measure of success of firm management and overall status.  Even where individual partners care about more than the size of their paycheck, they have to manage toward that number because it’s become shorthand for the quality of the firm.

The problem, of course, is that P3 is almost perfectly cross-aligned with the clients’ interests.

There are four basic ways to increase profits per partner. Three of them put the firm in direct conflict with their clients’ goals and the fourth has been neglected:

• Firms can increase rates, which we have seen plenty of in recent years and is self-evidently a negative for clients.
• Firms can increase hours billed per person, which is bad for associates and bad for clients as they result in lawyers who are unhappy, overworked and moving between firms at an alarming rate.
• Firms can increase their leverage (number of associates per partner). This is destructive in countless ways, including deterioration of work quality and the quality of life of the partners themselves, which exacerbates rising attrition among associates (who wants to be a partner these days?).
• The fourth solution is to cut costs, which is a solution we have yet to witness in a meaningful way from top firms. In fact, costs have increased as lawyer salaries have escalated. Ironically, this is the only one of the four approaches that is, on balance, good for clients.

 

In contrast to profits per partner, we’ve been developing an alternative metric based on the percentage of the client’s overall legal spend that Axiom constitutes year-over-year.  This provides client-favorable motivation in both the numerator and the denominator.  In the numerator, we are motivated to win “market share” within existing clients.  In our view, this is the most reliable expression of a client’s level of satisfaction (though we also ask them to rate us, as outlined above).  In the denominator, we are motivated to reduce our clients’ overall legal spend, which has resulted in our doing free consulting on best practices and recommending a range of solutions that have nothing to do with Axiom.   (Note: one could argue that the numerator provides an incentive for us to raise rates, but we think that’s outweighed by the primary focus on winning “market share” within the client.)

Finally, I wanted to draw readers’ attention to the comments you quoted from Jeff Carr, GC of EMC.  The system he reports combining performance feedback and performance compensation is in our view close to ideal.  We’ve proposed a similar approach to a few clients but have never succeeded in getting a performance compensation system adopted.  Carr’s comments are inspiration to try again, and I encourage other legal service providers to do the same.

We all appreciate the work you’re doing to highlight this issue via your publication and look forward to continuing the discussion. Thanks for being a catalyst for these conversations!

Best regards,
Alec
_____________________________
axiom
law redefined

alec guettel
23 austin friars
london EC2N 2QP UK

The Bi-Modal Starting Salary Distribution

My friend Prof. Bill Henderson of Indiana University School of Law has just published a highly significant column titled "How the 'Cravath System' Created the Bi-Modal Distribution." At least one blog ("MoneyLaw") has already deemed it "The blog post of the year;" be that as it may, it's worthy of the attention of any serious student of our profession.

The "bi-modal distribution" Bill discusses is that of salaries of starting lawyers, which for the Class of 2006 looks like this (all diagrams courtesy of Bill):

This is unlike any normal labor market salary distribution I've ever seen. Yes, to be sure, there are the "winner take all" labor (read: talent) marketplaces in industries such as professional sports, celebrity entertainment, and CEO compensation, but those are sui generis for reasons we all understand. What I mean is this is unlike any normal labor market involving tens of thousands of people and not just a handful of superstars.

Even more intriguingly, this is a recent development. Things were not always thus. Here are the graphs for 1991, 1996, and 2000 (the Internet boom, you will fondly recall):

How does Bill explain this? Here's the heart of his theory:

"What are the market forces that have created this peculiar salary structure? In my working paper, "Are We Selling Results or Résumés?: The Underexplored Linkage Between Human Resource Systems and Firm-Specific Capital," I posit that the runaway $160K mode is a confluence of two factors: (1) the continued growth in the corporate legal services market, primarily due to the growing scale and scope of transnational corporate activity; and (2) law firms' nearly universal adherence to the "Cravath system," which purports to hire the best graduates from the best law schools and provide them with the best training."

To understand Bill's thinking there is of course no substitute for reading the primary text, but I'll outline it for you briefly:

• 30, 40, and 50 years ago, firms that were the predecessors of today's AmLaw 100 hewed to the totemic "Cravath system" in ways unimaginable today. For example, a researcher found that in the early 1960's 73% of the lawyers in "law firms" (not solo practice) in Detroit came from Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Chicago, and Michigan law schools.
• The expectation/need of paying top "going rate" salaries to recruit people of that caliber became ingrained in law firm practice and behavior and partner expectations (or, as Bill puts it, "partners remained psychologically wedded to their own perceptions of eliteness."
• This model is becoming increasingly unsustainable.

I have my own take on Bill's fascinating data, which I first posited well over a year ago: The bimodal distribution of starting lawyer salaries is not, economically speaking, an equilibrium condition. It will change.

The last great associate salary spike, from $125Kto $160K, took place roughly 18 months ago when times were flush. Even then, some firms began panting at the effort to keep up. (Recall that the instigator of that spike was Simpson Thacher, which didn't have to raise its resting pulse to manage the spike.)

The next spike—I won't predict when it will be but I will predict it will be to $200K—will leave a lot of firms crying "Uncle." They will stop struggling to keep up with the receding red lights moving on down the highway. And it will be economically rational, geographically defensible, and culturally unifying.

A Modest Suggestion re Associate Layoffs

Three guesses what these numbers represent:

*not verified

**assumes "?" = 0

Yes, obviously, the number of associate layoffs admitted to by the various firms (hat tip to Above the Law).   Obviously, I have not been able to include firms that have implemented stealth layoffs or, inhumanely, dismissed associates for "performance" reasons when that was actually not the case.  ("Inhumane" because of the enormous blot it leaves on the target's resume: Far better to call a spade a business downturn and leave the hapless associate to the mercies of the market—but at least an accurately informed market.) 

Of perhaps even greater materiality—but equivalent or greater uncertainty—is the number of associates yet to be, uh, excused.  As reported in The Lawyer, "another recruitment consultant, Larry Mulman of Major Lindsey & Africa, puts it [this way]: "To an extent, the downturn in structured finance has provided an excuse for firms to look at other practice areas and to cut dead wood. Within the boundaries of good taste, firms are going to try to get as lean as they can. We're going to see more.""

But this is not a column about layoffs.

It's about requiring arbitration of associate employment disputes.

Assuming arguendo mandatory arbitration clauses are enforceable (I'm not an employment lawyer and never will be), the benefits to the firm and for that matter to the associate seem compelling:

• Confidentiality.  Arbitration proceedings can be conducted essentially under seal, and all the inevitable and predictable nastiness kept off the record, clearly for the benefit of both the firm's and the associate's reputation.
• Finality.  Arbitration proceedings, absent drastic irregularities such as perjury or fraud, are all but impossible to appeal or overturn.
• Speed.  Although arbitration is getting more, not less, complex in terms of discovery and briefing, it remains quicker and more economical than full-dress court proceedings.
• No punitive damages.  Although arbitrators theoretically can award punitive damages (and agreements to waive them in advance may be deemed contrary to public policy), they hardly ever do.  And the professionals who typically make up the composition of arbitration panels are far less likely to have their passions inflamed than your average jury.

Is arbitration a panacea? Obviously not.  But the current environment has to start one thinking about minimizing repercussions to firms as we proceed through and eventually out of this weird and bitter economic stew composed of equal parts liquidity freeze, housing market slide, financial sector contraction, consumer confidence plunge, systemic over-leverage, commodity inflation worries, historically high oil prices,... (Do you want me to go on?  I thought not.)

That said, I'm not aware of any AmLaw firm that requires arbitration in associate employment agreements.  If I'm wrong, please let me know!

This brings us to the crux of the problem:  No one wants to be first.  Understandable, but not insoluble.

Firms have managed to reach magical and mysterious agreement parity on any number of other characteristics of associate employment, without running afoul of 15 USC §§ 1—27, and I'm about to suggest they could conceivably do the same with mandatory arbitration.

All you have to do is read this very column on "Adam Smith, Esq."  There:  How hard was that?

Far be it from me to tell you what to do on this score.  But we already have 174 reasons, and counting, to think about this.

Update 26 June, 8:00 pm:

Helpful readers have pointed me to this story about Kirkland & Ellis' mandatory arbitration policy (apparently effective this past February), which also lends support to the notion that mandatory arbitration is enforceable ("continued employment in most states is adequate compensation [sic: consideration?] for an arbitration procedure")—unless you're in California. 

There, the Ninth Circuit struck down O'Melveny's arbitration agreement with its own employees, finding it "procedurally unconscionable" because presented on a take-it-or-leave-it basis.  Well, at least it wasn't substantively unconscionable.  (The O'Melveny case may be an outlier, as its stricken clause was evidently asymmetrical, allowing the firm to sue employees but not vice versa, as well as forbidding employees from filing discrimination or administrative claims with labor regulators.) 

I've also heard that Wilson Sonsini began signing new associates to mandatory arbitration after the dot-com meltdown, but I have no independent verification of that, and, given the O'Melveny decision, it may be moot whether they do or don't.

New York's White Shoe, the Magic Circle, and Historical Path-Dependency

Chambers has a nice seasonal report it mails to subscribers, but it doesn't provide it online. This is a pity (and, I predict, a practice with a finite half-life), but one of the articles in the issue I recently received (August 2007 for those of you following along at home) is too rich to escape comment: Success or Failure? UK law firms in New York.

The subhead is "After struggling in New York for years the magic circle has at last gained some traction. But have London firms downgraded their brand in the US in order to upgrade their profits?"

Well, this is a typically British journalist cheeky lead-in, but the article has some genuine substance:

• A former senior Linklaters partner comments: "The British firms arrived in New York thinking their names would carry a lot of weight, but people had no idea who they were and didn't really care; the firms took too much for granted."
• Paul Wickes, a 59-year-old bankruptcy litigation partner who left Shearman & Sterling along with three other partners in 2003 to join Linklaters/New York found an office "bereft of direction, low on morale, hemorrhaging partners, and losing money." He quickly realized the composition of the office was not, shall we say, aligned with the local marketplace: "I remember saying to people in London after we joined that a third of the New York practice should be litigation and their eyes would get wide! But to make an international firm a success its offices have to reflect a mix of the firm's overall strategy and the local market realities."
• Litigation now makes up 31% of Linklaters' US business, and 34% of Clifford Chance's.
• The type of litigation the Magic Circle seem to excel at is US-centric but where the party involved is based overseas and there are concomitant regulatory proceedings in various jurisdictions.  This is becoming more common, according to Rob Khuzami, general counsel for the Americas at Deutsche Bank:  "I was skeptical about the need for multi-jurisdictional litigation capability:  I couldn't think of many matters when you'd need it.  but in the last year or so that's changed."  Today there may be cooperative regulatory investigations by the SEC in the US, the Financial Services Authority in the UK, and BaFin in Germany.

But the real question is not what has happened, but what will happen, and here the piece has some observations that portend trouble for US firms' push abroad.

The fundamental dynamic has been that London-based firms, faced with a relatively small domestic market, and with a bred-in-the-bone orientation towards both continental Europe and the US, got a long head start in international expansion.  Meanwhile, New York-based firms, sitting on top of what for a long time was the most lucrative market in the world, not only saw no urgency to establish costly beach-heads abroad—they reasoned (inarguably, if short-sightedly) that international expansion would dilute profitability during the invest and build-out phases.

Tony Williams sums it up like this: 

When the US investment banks—Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, and the rest—expanded into Europe and Asia in the late 1980s most white shoe firms decided "to leave them to their own devices:  It could prove a key strategic error.  The American firms, given how profitable they were, didn't invest in London or Hong Kong at that time.  This was wrong and complacent.  If they had, the UK firms' international ambitions would have been stillborn.  But because of that oversight British firms are on the radar in relation to New York deals because bankers move around.  The decision makers in Manhattan will have spent time in London or Hong Kong and used the British firms."

The final crack in the wall of Fortress New York may be the finally-competitive levels of PPP the Magic Circle are generating.  Consider these numbers (the most recent available as of publication of this column):

• Linklaters,:  £1.62-million, or $3.25-million
• Allen & Overy: £1.54-million, or $3.1-million
• Clifford Chance:  £1.15-million, or $2.3-million
• Freshfields: £1.44-million, or $2.9-million

The moral is simple:  The parity of PPP "has given many good lawyers the confidence to move laterally," as Ward Bower of Altman-Weil puts it.

And it's not just about lateral partners:  Consider the market for new associates.  What percentage of Harvard Law School graduates are now non-US natives?  [Tick tock tick tock....]  23%.

"Among the best students who are interested in Linklaters, an enormous proportion have something international about their background," says Paul Wickes.  "We see  a lot of students that have grown up somewhere other than the US and have language skills.

"The student who interviews with us one day and with a Wall Street firm the next faces a relatively conventional decision on one hand, and something more unusual in deciding to come to us. The thing that will tip people in our favor tends to be the opportunities we offer as part of a genuinely international firm."

Assume for purposes of argument that 80—90% of classic New York white shoe firms' lawyers are in Manhattan; that proportion is reversed, at the very least, for Magic Circle firms.  Be careful what proportion of top-notch students you may be ruling out.

And we'll give Wickes the last say:

"What top New York-based firms need to be worried about is what we're doing in the world at large," he retorts [at those sniping at the Magic Circle's slow start in  New York].  "If anybody thinks that the battleground for legal services today can be described in terms of individual geographical markets, they've missed what's happened in the last five to ten years."

Do I believe New York firms are behind the eight-ball in their international growth?  (1)  Yes. (2)  At the moment.  Marketplaces have a way of surprising people with their dynamism, especially the incumbents who, if you believe this article, are the Magic Circle.

But beware linear extrapolations.  The historic path-dependency of the New York firms may explain their positions today, but alter that historic reality—as we are witnessing with our own eyes—and be prepared for the landscape to take on different contours, potentially with great rapidity.  

"CSO's?"

Does your firm have a "Chief Strategy Officer?" Thinking about it? Tried it and didn't like it?

Well, apropos the news a couple of weeks ago that Cravath has a first ever director of strategic planning, we thought it would be timely to review what's known about "CSO's." But first, a word to the wise: Do not assume that Cravath's move is one to emulate in all respects. When Legal Week got in touch with Cravath to learn more, this was their report:

"We figured the firm would be happy to talk about the new hire and share some details on Johnston's charge going forward. When we reached presiding partner Evan Chesler by phone, he dismissed our interest in the comings and goings of what he calls “administrative people”. Johnston is "a very nice guy", says Chesler, though he didn't recall his new strategist's title.

"This is just a support job to help us out in our work," says Chesler, who explained that a group of nine Cravath partners, which he chairs, will continue to formulate firm strategy. "The strategy is entirely set by the partners of the firm," he insists."

And there's more:

"[Johnston will be] gathering information, doing the staff work, the kind of stuff that any committee would have a person doing the staff work for," says Chesler. "We have a very busy administrative staff [and] people were simply overburdened by trying to do that in their spare time."

Despite the addition, Chesler says Cravath's strategy is the same as it has always been: to remain the country's best law firm.

"That was the strategy, by the way, when I got here 33 years ago," Chesler adds. "So I don’t want to see a headline that says that we just came up with that idea."

But this is actually a piece about firms that are serious about CSO's, so let's pick up where we left off. [Full disclosure: I suspect Cravath is a lot more serious about Bill Johnston's position than they're letting on to the mainstream press, and I'm meeting Bill later this week to check my intuition.]

Let's start with the fact that the position of CSO is new, and therefore undefined. To be more precise, it has various definitions. Trust McKinsey to assemble a roundtable of high-profile CSO's to give their views on what the job entails, how to do it right, and what the payoff might be. The panel included:

• Edward C. Arditte, senior vice president of strategy and investor relations at the multi-industry company Tyco International;
• Marius A. Haas, senior vice president of strategy and corporate development at the technology company HP;
• Dan Simpson, vice president, office of the chairman, at the cleaning-products group Clorox;
• Annabel Spring, managing director in charge of strategy and execution at the investment bank Morgan Stanley; and
• J. F. Van Kerckhove, vice president of corporate strategy at the e-commerce company eBay.

While all CSO's agree that the real chief strategy officer is the CEO, from there the consensus seems to dissolve. But given the centrality of the CEO to setting strategy, a close CEO/CSO relationship is a job requirement. You might have an alienated or disaffected CFO or CIO and be able to function, if suboptimally, for awhile, but not so with the CSO role.

Part of the CSO's challenge is to develop strategy in an iterative way between bottom-up and top-down. The goal of this is to build on the collective wisdom, marketplace knowledge, and client savvy of the partners themselves (bottom up) while trying at the same time to attune that wisdom to the competitive realities of the firm's evolving position in the marketplace and where it aspires to be. This quote from the CSO at Morgan Stanley nicely articulates the challenge, and comes from someone in an environment not dissimilar to today's sophisticated global law firms:

"Our role is to get feedback from the business units, overlay the global trends, and make sure that everybody has identified the right issues. We then prioritize the opportunities across the business units and provide a strategic element for that prioritization. Feedback from the business units is also critical for maintaining that entrepreneurial edge. Morgan Stanley is so specialized and yet complex and global, which is hard to balance."

Another aspect of the CSO's role is that it's intrinsically dependent on the state of the market. In plum times, one has the luxury of thinking long-term, being visionary and planning investments. In times like these when the market is tough, it may be more about restructuring and retooling your people and refocusing your practice areas.

How do you ensure that "strategy" has bite, that it actually has an impact?

Probably the most straightforward way is to integrate it with individual evaluations, to make people see how their performance is (or isn't ) aligned with strategy. At numbers-driven companies like HP, this can take on forms that would seem extreme in a law firm, but they exemplify how concretely expectations for implementation of strategy can be tied to a business unit's planning:

"An implementation plan that has clear milestones and owners is a must. Execution sits in the business units. At HP, we won’t make the hand-off until the business owner understands, accepts ownership, and acknowledges the need to deliver. As to the strategic plan as a whole, we’ve gotten a lot more disciplined. Now we can say, “Here are the levers within our plan that we need to execute in order to deliver. We know the plan, the capacity, and what we can do incrementally. If you’re going to show me a number, you’ve got to tell me how you’re going to get there.” Management has changed how people’s performance was going to be measured at a granular level."

Lest all this seem too abstract, think about actively and consciously segregating your practices into three primary business areas each with its own composition of clientele and economic goals:

• Emerging opportunities and markets;
• Mature but healthy and constant practices; and
• Marginally declining areas that nevertheless help generate cash flow.

Invest in each--investments in people, geographies, and managerial talent--appropriately.

Many people confuse strategy with financial planning. Don't be a victim of this. Planning has to do with internal budgeting and resource allocation, but it has little if anything to do with your market, your clients, and why corporations come to your firm vs. another. (At Clorox, they are so disciplined about this segregation of strategy from finance that they don't permit financial perspectives or exhibits in the first rounds of strategy meetings, in order to enforce the disciplined focus on market positioning rather than internal resource allocation.)

What, then, is the value of strategic planning? If your firm is struggling "operationally," the real problem more likely than not can be laid at the door of strategy, as explained by Dan Simpson of Clorox:

"Execution problems are often symptoms of trouble upstream in the strategy-development process—the strategy process has failed to realistically assess current reality, to honestly understand organizational capabilities, to align key players with those who do real work, or, at the end of the day, to create a compelling, externally driven vision of success."

This is wisdom distilled, so let's take a moment to break it down:

• "failed to realistically assess current reality:" Does your firm have a realistic grasp on what it can aspire to be? On how your clients perceive you? On how recruits perceive you? The media?
• "honestly understand organizational capabilities:" What are your lawyers capable of? How ambitious are they? How amenable to change? How prepared to march in a given direction once it's explained to them?
• "to align key players:" Are your 800 pound gorillas on the team and behind the strategy? If not, return to go.
• And "to create a compelling, externally driven vision of success:" Too many firms have "visions" of "success" that are, alas, out of touch with the marketplace. They are inward-looking, not "externally driven." Be brutally honest about this component. The price of losing contact with reality here is exacting.

Finally, let me conclude with the koan with which McKinsey ends, which sums up the intersecting challenges of (a) internal vs. external; (b) short-term vs. long-term; (c) one practice area vs. an other; and (d) upsetting dead orthodoxies vs. staying true to your firm's enduring verities:

"Internally, the toughest issues are exposing orthodoxies that constrain our thinking and options, as well as spreading priorities and resources across time horizons and business unit boundaries. Part of strategy’s role is to define external imperatives at a higher level so that investments spanning different time horizons or organizational units actually reinforce each other."

So do you have a Chief Strategy Officer? Whether you do or whether you don't, your work is cut out for you.

Going Two-Tier? Not So Fast

Thinking of going to a two-tier (equity and non-equity) partnership?  Or of increasing the non-equity ranks if (like 80% of the AmLaw 100) you're already two-tier?

I'm here to counsel extreme skepticism.  And I'm tempted to be even more absolutist:  Don't do it.

At least, that is, if the economics of the situation govern your decision.  Because—let me hasten to add—there are many perfectly praiseworthy and legitimate non-economic reasons to do so, including:

• Being able to retain valuable practitioners and producers—good citizens, if you will—who just don't quite cut it when it comes to joining the equity ranks.
• Providing an alternative career path, attractive in and of itself, for those who would prefer to avoid the ceaseless pressure of high billable hours and high expectations for business development that come with the equity partner pay grade.
• Creating a niche where practitioners with a peculiar, intrinsically valuable but somewhat arcane, specialty can be placed so as to remain available as needed.

And there's actually a fourth reason to introduce a non-equity tier which does not harm and may demonstrably benefit your firm's economics, as long as you're disciplined about it (as firms such as Kirkland & Ellis are):

• Introducing a non-equity, time-limited, period of, say, five years, between being a senior associate and a full equity junior partner, with these conditions:
  • To all appearances to the outside world, the non-equity partners appear to be, simply, partners;
  • They have access to all of the business development tools any partner would have;
  • They have a finite period of time to demonstrate—or not—that, armed with these competitive assets, they can indeed generate business;
  • Internally, they have the opportunity to demonstrate their leadership, team-building, and project management skills (with all of the implied authority that comes from being a "partner"); but lastly
  • Ascension to the ranks of non-equity does not entitle people to an indefinite stay conditioned only on good behavior:  Rather, it starts a second shot-clock running, during the pendency of which they must demonstrate the qualities expected of a full equity partner, or else be excused.
  • Oh, and if you think this is inhumane or too "tough" on general principles, I remind you to think of it from the perspective of the non-equity partner who's about to be shown the door:  Would you rather be job-seeking as a "partner" at Kirkland & Ellis or as a 9th-year associate at Davis Polk?

Now, why am I so skeptical about the supposed beneficent economics of non-equities?  Haven't we all been told for the past 20+ years, by consultants who shall remain nameless, that introducing a non-equity tier can improve your performance by boosting leverage and allowing you to retain proven and productive talent? 

Would the world were so simple.

As it turns out, what comes with introducing a non-equity tier is a subtly changed dynamic in the incentive set facing your talent.  Firms with a single-tier partnership attract the true Type A's:  Those of us who have never finished anywhere but at the top of a class and have no intention of starting to do otherwise.  But the two-tier firms hold out a veiled alternative:  If you keep your nose clean and work (reasonably but not insanely) hard, you might find yourself taking home (say)  $400,000 per year, adjusted for inflation, for the duration.   And you won't have to kill yourself in either billable hours or business generation.

I guarantee you plenty of people walking outside your windows right now would jump at that offer.

And my hunch is that, over time, that changes, ever so slightly, the composition of the people who put your firm into their consideration set.

But don't take my word for it.

Let's look at the numbers.  Fortunately, the just-released 2008 AmLaw 100 give us plenty of numbers, and I've been analyzing them off and on for the last few days.    Let's start with some correlation coefficients.

 (Correlation coefficients, for those of you who skipped statistics, are a mathematical measure of the strength and direction [positive or negative] of a relationship between two variables.   To use simple examples, red hair is correlated with green eyes; being of Asian extraction is negatively correlated with blond hair; and for people from birth to about age 16, age is highly correlated with height and weight.    Correlation coefficients can range in value from +1.0 to -1.0 and, in general, a correlation coefficient of +1.0 implies perfect correlation (being a resident of New York City correlates perfectly with being a resident of New York State); 0.0 implies no discernible relationship; and -1.0 implies no correlation whatsoever—or, in other words, that the presence of one connotes the absence of the other.   Correlation does not, please note, imply causation.) 

So here we have a few numbers.  Many of the figures are available in the AmLaw 100 directly as reported whereas others I calculated.  For example, what I call the "Non-Equity Partner Ratio" is simply (the total number of non-equity partners) divided by (the total number of equity partners).  For a single-tier firm, it's therefore 0 and for a firm with more non-equity than equity partners it exceeds 100%.

• Correlation between Non-Equity Partner Ratio and Revenue per Lawyer:  -0.4254
• Correlation between Non-Equity Partner Ratio and Profit Margin:  -0.7102
• And lastly, Correlation between Non-Equity Partner Ratio and Profits per Partner:  -0.4189

In other words, the higher your firm's proportion of non-equity partners, the lower your:

• Revenue per lawyer
• Profit margin, and
• Profits per Partner.

Here's another way of looking at it.  We know that Revenue per Lawyer and PPP are highly correlated (+0.8923 by my calculations), so I segmented the AmLaw 100 into five cohorts according to the proportion of Non-Equity Partners:

What's going on here?

I've already mentioned my theory that it makes your firm more attractive to those who aren't at the absolute top of the alpha-competitive distribution, but there are also concrete reasons to think that non-equity partners are: (a) getting more numerous, not less; and (b) constitute the most expensive tranche of leverage you have onboard.

This chart shows the breakdown, from 2000 to 2006, of all lawyers in AmLaw firms who are not equity partners.  The large red bars are of course associates and the two small grey bars are, per the survey's methodology (don't ask me!) "other non-equity lawyer" (darker grey) and "non-equity partners" (lighter grey).  The moral is very clear:  Associates are a shrinking component of the ranks of lawyers that give you leverage.  The problem with this is that associates are the cheapest form of leverage, and non-equity partners the most expensive form.

But wait, it gets worse.

Not only are non-equity lawyers the most expensive, they're the least hard-working.  Take a look:

On both charts ("higher" and "lower" profit firms) the two cohorts of lawyers that bill the fewest hours per year are "income partner" and "other non-equity lawyer."  Associates, not surprisingly, bill the most (the 3rd bar on each chart) and equity partners come in a close second (the 1st bars).  To summarize, then:  (1) There are more non-equity lawyers, as a proportion of headcount, than ever; (2) they're the most expensive cohort other than equity partners; and (3) they're the least productive.

So I ask you:  Are you still thinking of going two-tier, or going "more so" if you already are? 

There may be meet and right reasons to do so for the sake of specific individuals, for the sake of  your firm's "culture," or to preserve domestic tranquility, but if you're doing it because people who ought to know better have told you it will help your leverage, increase revenues, boost profitability, and help you retain highly productive people, I have just one question for you:

Can we talk?

A "Bubble" in PPP?

A loyal reader, partner in an AmLaw 25, writes, under the topic "Could we be developing a 'bubble' in law firm PPP:"

Bruce:  I'd be interested in getting your thoughts on the above question.

If you define a market "bubble," as a period when the expressed value of an asset (stocks or housing) exceeds the true market value of that asset, there seems to be an argument that there may be a bubble in the "share price" of law firms (represented by the Amlaw 100 anyway). That "share price," as that term has been used by some law firm leaders, is the profits per equity partner.

By my rough calculation, based on Amlaw 100 data, profits for AMLAW 100 firms has increased at a cumulative annual growth rate of over 11% for the years from 1999 to 2006. Although increased legal work may partially explain this growth, it appears more likely that law firms have increased their profits by pulling a few key levers: Increasing hours per lawyer, increasing leverage, and increasing rates. In fact, during that period, PEP grew almost 9% amongst the Amlaw 100 (the difference from gross profits to be explained in a minute). By contrast, the Dow increased only 1.2% during this period. Whereas during the bubble-building period of 1995 to 2000, it grew at 16% annually.

As has been widely discussed in the legal press, law firms' ability to continue pulling those levers is largely coming to an end. Most lawyers are working as hard as feasible. Clients are increasingly pushing back on rate increases (I just attended a session with in-house counsel where they noted that law firms should not expect to increase rates this year). While law firms attempt to increase their leverage, clients are increasingly resisting having their work done by associates. All of this means that 10% plus profit growth is not likely to continue.

This takes me back to the "share price" -- PEP. Law firms continue to feel substantial pressure to increase that share price out of fear that if they fail to do so, they will drop in the AMLAW 100 rankings, and lose the prestige that is associated with such rankings. (Even if law firms could continue to attract star talent by increasing the range in compensation to equity partners, they still perceive themselves to be limited by the average PEP they report). Thus, to continue to increase their PEP, they are starting to de-equitize partners, and close the door to new associates and income partners from moving up the ranks. (The latest example being Jenner & Block).  In fact, if you look at the numbers from the AMLAW 100 from 2005 and 2006, you see that the number of equity partners actually declined from 2005 to 2006 (by about 0.4%). In contrast, the number of equity partners actually increased at an average annual rate of 2.7% from 1999 to 2005 (which accounts for the difference in the increase in profits (over 11%) and the increase in PEP (almost 9%)).

As the growth in gross profits starts to decline, law firms are still able to increase their PEP by reducing the number of equity partners, thereby increasing the "share price" of equity partnership. But, this increase will become increasingly unsustainable. As junior attorneys realize that the prospect of achieving equity status is less than slim (and may be non-existent), many of the motivational levers will no longer exist. After all, people do not typically invest in building a business if they do not believe they will be with that firm long term.

Corporate America has recognized this issue and attempts to reward employees with long-term incentive programs (currently options and stock grants; in prior generations this was done through pensions). By taking away the long-term incentive that comes with ownership, the "true" value of a firm starts to decline, even while the "perceived" value of a firm increases. As we have seen from the bubbles in the stock markets and the housing markets, when there is such a disconnect, there can be long and painful restructurings. Unfortunately, those who suffer the most in such bubbles are those who "bought in" at the height of the bubble -- investors who bought stock in 2000, homeowners who bought homes in 2005. Those who get out at the peak will reap the profits.

For law firms, the "new entrants" are junior partners and senior associates who are investing substantially in the hopes of joining the equity ranks and reaping the rewards. The older investors -- those who are running the firms and probably on law firm management committees, are the ones who are reaping the rewards. When it becomes apparent that law firms can no longer afford the high PEP they are reporting, it will be the younger lawyers who will bear the burden.

As with other bubbles, this is a self-reinforcing process -- as the PEP for firms increase from one year to the next, the pressure on all other firms to increase PEP by that amount increases. Law firms that fail to keep up their peers perceive themselves to be at risk of entering a downward spiral -- their perceived stature declines, they are no longer able to attract top talent; absent that top talent, they are not able to keep growing revenues, and profits decline, resulting in further declines to PEP. Thus, all market participants have a substantial incentive to continue to increase PEP, even if it is illusory.  No firm can rationally "opt out." 

The same is seen in other bubble markets.  In the last days before the sub-prime bubble burst, the competition between companies led most banks to make business decisions (aggressively chasing deals with lower and lower underwriting standards) that were rational only on the theory that everyone else was doing it (otherwise known as "irrational exuberance" in 1999).  When no one wants to buy the credit any more, the model fails and all the businesses fall together. In the legal market, that process will be slower because the transfer of ownership is slower -- the "buyers" are the associates and students coming up through the ranks.  But, as the best of those lawyers recognize the lessoned value of law firm partnership, they will pursue alternative careers (investment banking, private equity, government, etc.). 

Eventually, the law firm talent pool declines significantly, reducing the value that law firms provide to their clients.  The crash may not be quick, and may take years before it becomes apparent, but it may still come, and may take a very long time (perhaps a generation) to rebuild the law firms as institutions.

There's much here.

I'd like to break it down into three components: The near term, the long term, and the structural issues.

Near term: Without question, we're in for a cyclical downturn in the growth of PPP, and, for some firms, an absolute decline. Double-digit increases in almost any measure in almost any business for a period of nearly a decade are bound to come to an end. Bull markets always do, hard as it seems to believe during the jolly times.

That's not to say firms can't take measures to mitigate the downward pressure:

• Redeploy lawyers in troubled practice areas to healthier ones;
• Use the opportunity of "shared pain" with your key clients to get closer to them;
• Adroitly stand by while the normal waves of attrition take their toll;
• Build or at least safeguard capacity in selected practice areas that you anticipate will emerge strongly from the downturn;
• And always, always, keep a sharp eye on costs--although, truth be told, you don't have much material flexibility here. You're not moving your offices to Brooklyn and you're not paying less than market for partners and associates.

Is this, then, a real problem near term?

I think not. Your lawyers understand what's going on in the economy and in their practice areas. They know when things are slow, when the new matter pipeline seems sluggish, when clients are avoiding phone calls and emails about paying. There's no reason to panic and, if you're comfortable with your long-term strategy and see no reason to change, sit tight.  Indeed, I have predicted that as we emerge from this tunnel, new requirements in structured finance and other practice areas that have been hard hit will entail demand for more, not less, lawyering of the new products.    In other words, this too shall pass.

Long term: Here the outlook is decidedly more mixed.

Our faithful correspondent has several well-taken points, which I'd like to reiterate:

• On the billable hour model, revenue = (rates) x (hours) x (realization)
• Add in a dimension for profitability, namely (^leverage)
• And you realize that each of these four measures has some intrinsic ceiling or maximum on it:
  • Rates: $1,000/hour? £1,000/hour?
  • Hours: 2,400? 3,000?
  • Realization: >100%?
  • And leverage: At some point, associates (particularly Gen X/Y) will say that the eye of the needle they're being expected to pass through is laughably small.

And yet the PPP "arms race" has no such intrinsic ceiling.  $2-million/year?   $4-million?  Even these amounts are modest compared to the compensation that investment bankers, hedge fund managers, and private equity jockeys are earning, as they rub shoulders in the same neighborhoods and sit at the same conference tables as AmLaw 100 partners.  The desperate measures firms will go to to compete in these leagues are evidenced by resort to the Death Star of de-equitizing partners. 

Our correspondent is also quite correct to point out that no firm can (unilaterally) opt out of this PPP arms race—at least not unless they are prepared to risk the equivalent of a run on the talent bank, with all its suicidal implications.  So is the only "rational" outcome going to be the wholesale disillusionment and disenfranchisement of a generation of associates, who will opt out of the entire Ponzi scheme and leave the AmLaw 100 in droves?

As inexorable as that outcome may sound, I have a higher degree of faith in the flexibility of firms—all firms in the economy, that is, not just AmLaw firms—to reform their ways when threatened with the prospect of a catastrophic collapse in the way they're used to doing business.  Which brings us to:

Structural Issues:

All of these factors—the inherent limits of rates, hours, realization, and leverage; truly serious pushback from clients on fees; the difficulty of getting Gen X and Gen Y to serve as cannon fodder for the pyramid (an attitude which is surely more rational and enlightened than that of the Baby Boom generation, by the way)—lead me to predict that firms will find ways to change the 90-year-old Cravath Model.  They will change it because they will have to, to survive.

What might this mean?   For starters, I would be delighted to predict yet again the ultimate demise of the billable hour, knowing that I would be in distinguished, and consistently wrong, company—but that's a subject for another day.  My pet theory on this, by the way, is that its demise will come when law firms find it in their own self-interest.  More specifically, when law firms discover they might actually be able to charge fees based on "value to client" rather than "cost of production," but I can't say I'm holding my breath. 

How else might firms change?

The bimodal associate/partner, up-or-out career path is, of course, already showing tremendous signs of stress and a variety of experimental tinkerings are well under way:  Non-equity partners, most famously and most numerously, but also staff and contract attorneys, job-sharing, and the first baby steps towards career "time-outs" to provide the opportunity for such radical pursuits as starting a family.

At least as fundamentally, I believe the core processes by which law firms manage cases and deals must and will change.  Mention "project management" to an average lawyer and you draw a blank, yet cases and deals are, at core, projects which must be managed.  There is typically a critical path of activities, there are assets and resources to be deployed against the tasks to be done (each, yes, with a price), and there are more and less profitable and efficient ways to structure the project.  Even if lawyers never learn these skills, why couldn't firms engage practice group managers to perform this function?

• Project management, .
• Combined with our ever more powerful knowledge management systems,
• And with all expected to briefly go back at the conclusion of a matter for an exercise in "lessons learned,"

Will enable firms to substantially enhance their economic performance even while weaning themselves away from the familiar ways of doing business.

Ultimately, our correspondent describes a future of unsustainable trends where, on the current model, the AmLaw firms hit a figurative brick wall.  I believe we'll take decisive evasive action sooner.  The demand for high-end legal services by the Fortune 500 and the FTSE 100 is not diminishing with globalization; it is increasing.  The ongoing re-engineering of structured finance will not yield deals with fewer covenants, warranties, representations, and contingencies; it will yield deals with more of all of those, and probably some new features yet to be invented.  Increasing cross-border and transnational economic activity requires lawyering of everything from immigration visas to  multi-billion dollar project finance.

Mom and pop law firms cannot serve these needs; only the AmLaw 100, the UK 50, and their like, can.  The scope of the future demand is, to my mind, utterly beyond question. Law firms with the scale and capability to match will step up to the plate.  If our correspondent's envisioned future plays out, there may be different players on that future roster of sophisticated firms, but players there will be.  After all, as Herbert Stein, chairman of the Council of Economic Advisers under Nixon and Ford, said of unsustainable trends:  "They tend to stop."

Update, 6 May 2008.

A 3L at an Ivy League law school writes (emphasis supplied):

"Hi Bruce,

"As a graduating 3L, I thought I’d offer a couple observations on your piece about PPP.

"My main observation is that the trend towards diminished interest in becoming partner is growing more pronounced.  In my class, I’m not sure I know a single person who would say that their goal was to become a partner.  I know people who want to leave Big Law for all sorts of in house, investment banking, government, public interest, and other field.  I know people who want to work for a few years, and then leave practice to raise a family.  I am not sure I know anyone who wants to be a partner.  This seems odd, because the rewards for rising to that level have never been higher.  I suspect that this view is partly a result of the diminishing chances at making partner.  Many students view it as so unlikely that it’s not a goal worth aiming for.

"I also am not sure that this is likely to change anytime soon.  The bread and butter of Big Law looks, at least from my vantage point, to be work that requires considerable leverage.  In a big case, or a big deal, there is a lot of junior and mid level associate work then there is partner level work.  For an extreme example, consider the recent Bear Sterns deal with JP Morgan.  The merger agreement itself is not very long, and surely the main points were the subject of careful attention from the most senior lawyers representing the parties.  Meanwhile, there was an enormous amount of diligence to do, and the number of hours involved in reviewing all that almost certainly dwarfed the time spent on negotiation and drafting of the merger agreement.

"To successfully navigate this environment, which can perhaps be characterized as a high-turnover equilibrium, firms need to nurture the development of new partners.  They further need to do so without giving the impression that everyone, or even very many, of their new associates will make partner.  This has no doubt been a problem for many years at large law firms.  My impression is that it will be a bigger problem in the future, because turnover has become so rapid.  Managing the careers of young lawyers so that at least some of them grow to be partner material appears to be less of a priority than it used to be, and that is likely to hit the bottom line of firms that don’t worry about it.

"I fully expect some of my classmates to ultimately become partners.  The challenge is that partnership has become so unlikely that it’s just not the career path that anyone expects for themselves.  I suspect that the result will be good prospects abandoning the pursuit of partnership prematurely, and some who do make it stumbling into it.  (This is closely related to the equity/non-equity partnership issue you just wrote about).  Overall, I think that current law students look at their careers in a way that tends to narrow the pipeline of future partners – and does so beyond the narrowing that is inherent in the “tournament” approach that dominates.  I assume that this is not to the long term benefit of law firms. 

"Best Regards, [...]"

Can any partner in an AmLaw 100 firm read that and assume business as usual will suffice for the foreseeable future? 

"Business as usual" meaning:   The same half-hearted attempts at professional development and associate training and mentoring, the same bizarre and archaic bimodal career path, the blinkered pretense of being able to ignore the fact that the partnership tournament years coincide with prime child-raising years, and the assumption that since we lived through Parris Island it won't kill Gen X or Gen Y, and they'd just better get used to it.

If you believe changes are not afoot, I want to be able to live in the same reality distortion field you inhabit. 

The future will look different than the past, and one thing we know to a certitude about the future:  It will arrive.  The only question is who will be prepared for it.

The AmLaw 100 for 2007: "Flash Report"

The American Lawyer not only has a spiffy new website, but this afternoon @ 3pm NY time they offered their first-ever webinar, hosted by Aric Press,  offering a preview of the AmLaw 100 for 2007.   The full results will be released tonight (look for a link here on "Adam Smith, Esq.") but first, a "flash report" from the webinar.

• Total combined revenue of the AmLaw 100 in 2007 totaled $64.5-billion, up 13.6% year over year.
• Revenue per lawyer, one of my favorite statistics (and apparently one of Aric's as well) grow 6.4% to an average of $820,000.
• Lawyer headcount was up 7% to 78,000 lawyers.
• But the slowest-growing component of that headcount, equity partners, comprised barely 23% of total headcount.
• At current rates, nonequity partners will outnumber equity partners in a mere 7 years; they already do at 21 firms (and across the entire AmLaw 100 they comprise 35% of all partners).
• The ranks of equity partners grew just 2.6% last year (about 5 partners for the "average" firm), and for the past five years the growth rate has surpassed the 21-year average growth rate of 3.2% only once (in 2003)
• Moreover:
  • 37 firms actually shrank the number of equity partners last year;
  • 4 showed no change; and
  • 8 firms added only 1 or two. 
• Skadden and Latham have both broken the $ 2.0-billion revenue/year barrier.
• In terms of PPP, 19 firms are now at $2-million or above, a gain of four firms over 2006.
• Wachtell (what a shock) remained king of the PPP hill at $4.9-million.
• Average PPP for the 100 is now $1.3-million, and median PPP is $1.2-million.
  • This means, rather insultingly, that a full dozen firms with a PPP number >$1-million find themselves in the bottom half of their peer group on this metric.
• New York continues to be a special place.  The difference between RPL for historically New York-based firms vs. non-New York firms is 41% ($1.1-million RPL for NY, $780,000 for non-NY).   Note that because this is calculated using "historic headquarters," firms such as Latham and Kirkland are, statistically, "non-NY" firms, so the "real" divergence is certainly greater.
• But overall, we have been, as Aric puts it, in a golden age, with five years in a row of growth in both RPL and PPP exceeding the historic averages.  To be specific:
  • In the five years starting in 2003, RPL has grown $205,000:  It took 10 years for it to grow by the same amount before 2003.
  • And as for PPP, since 2003 it has grown $438,000:  It took fully 15 years to grow by that amount before 2003.
• Is the great run now over?  By all current indications, it seems to be.  Deal volume is sharply down and, so far at least, litigation, restructuring, and bankruptcy have not yet stepped fully up to the plate. 
• Yet simplistic year-on-year comparisons can be misleading.  So, for the first time ever that I'm aware of, The American Lawyer explicitly ranked firms over the past ten year period based on their RPL—not total revenue and not PPP.  The results?  Absolutely fascinating:
  • 41 firms more or less ended where they began on this "relative RPL" ranking.
  • Of the remaining 59:
    • 12 dissolved or were absorbed by merger;
    • 20 improved their RPL by double digits;
    • 15 saw their RPL drop by double digits:
    • 7 moved from the bottom half of the distribution to the top half; and
    • 5 slid from the top half to the bottom half.
• The biggest movers on the ten-year RPL ranking were:
  • Dechert, up 35 slots.
  • Akin Gump, + 34.
  • DLA, + 31.
  • Chadbourne, down 44 slots,
  • And each of Dewey, King & Spalding, and White & Case down 20 slots.

What else do Aric and his colleagues at TAL foresee?

In many ways, their vision is aligned with what I would predict:

• Despite the current economic challenges (including the fact that the new and improved level of associate salaries will be with us for the full  2008 fiscal year, pushing costs to a permanently high new plateau), in the long run the increasing complexity of the economy, the rise of globalization and cross-border trade, and the increasing sophistication of our clients all argue that the long-run demand for high-end legal services will be perfectly healthy.  Indeed, in his keynote at the recent Georgetown symposium on "The Future of the Global Law Firm," Ralph Baxter, CEO of Orrick, prophesied that we would need more, not fewer, lawyers in the future.  ("Too few lawyers?!") 
• And yet the gap between richer and poorer is growing ever-wider. 

Again, look for full coverage after the entire list is released tomorrow.

Georgetown Conference on the Future of the Global Law Firm: First-Hand Report

I'm back from the two-day "Future of the Global Law Firm" symposium at Georgetown Law School, which was organized by Prof. Mitt Regan of Georgetown, Prof. Larry Ribstein of the University of Illinois, and myself. You may read other coverage of this elsewhere, as in attendance were Aric Press of The American Lawyer, Leigh Jones of The National Law Journal, David Lat of AboveTheLaw, and other reporters.

But herewith the "Adam Smith, Esq." report:

We had about 130 attendees, roughly one-quarter academics and legal scholars and three-quarters practitioners and senior law firm leaders, from the US, the UK, Canada, and Australia. Seven panels over the course of Thursday and Friday through lunch tackled:

• The emerging dynamics of global competition.
• Ownership and capital structure, including the possibility and the desirability of outside (that is, non-lawyer) investment in law firms.
• Ethics and professional values.
• Perspectives from corporate law and finance.
• Organizational and cultural dynamics, and
• Lessons from other professional service firms.

Among those attending were:

• Ralph Baxter, CEO of Orrick, who delivered the keynote Friday morning
• Ted Burke, CEO of Freshfields, who delivered the keynote Thursday morning
• Stuart Popham, senior partner of Clifford Chance, who spoke after dinner on Thursday
• Practitioner/panelists included:
  • Richard L. Weisman, Partner;former Managing Partner, China offices, Baker &
    McKenzie
  • Mark Kirsch, Chair of Global Litigation and Dispute Resolution, Clifford Chance
    
  • Stephen Denyer, International Development Partner, Allen & Overy
  • Andrew Grech, Managing Director, Slater & Gordon
  • Steven Mark, Legal Services Commissioner, New South Wales, Australia
  • Osama Rahman, Ministry of Justice, United Kingdom
  • Yours Truly
  • Anthony Davis, Lawyers for the Profession Practice Group, Hinshaw & CulbertsonLLP
  • Steven Krane, Chair, Law Firm Practice Group, Proskauer Rose;Chair, American Bar
    Association Standing Committee on Ethics and Professional Responsibility
  • JeffreyHaidet, Chairman, McKenna Long & Aldridge
  • William Perlstein, Co-Managing Partner, WilmerHale
  • Lee Miller, Joint Chief Executive Officer, DLA Piper
  • James Jones, Senior Vice-President, Hildebrandt International
  • Christopher Simmons, Managing Partner, Washington Metro Market,
    PricewaterhouseCoopers
  • Ward Bower, Principal, Altman Weil, Inc.
    
• Academics who presented papers included:
  • Peter Sherer, Professor, Haskayne School of Business, University of Calgary, Predicting
    the Future of Large US Corporate Law Firms: AmLaw 2025
  • Stephen Mayson, Professor, Legal Services Policy Institute, College of Law of England
    and Wales, London, Global Law Firms: A Strategy Looking for a Market?
  • Laurel Terry, Professor, Penn State Dickinson School of Law, The EU’s Professional
    Services Competition Initiative: Is the EU Very Far Behind Australia and the UK With
    Respect to Publicly Traded Law Firms?
  • Christine Parker, Professor, University of Melbourne Law School, Australia, Peering
    Over the Ethical Precipice: Incorporation, Listing, and the Ethical Responsibilities of
    Law Firms
  • Elizabeth Chambliss, Professor, New York Law School, Law Firm General Counsel: The
    Paradox of Institutional Success?
  • John Flood, Professor, University of Westminster School of Law, Future Directions in
    the UK Legal Profession: Life After the Legal Services Act 2007
  • Larry Ribstein, Professor, University of Illinois School of Law, The Law Firm as Firm
  • Gordon Smith, Professor, J. Reuben Clark Law School, Brigham Young University,
    Form, Function, and Fiduciary Law
  • Timothy Morris, Professor and Director, Clifford Chance Centre for the Management of
    Professional Service Firms, Said Business School, University of Oxford, Navigating the
    Process of Innovation in Professional Service Firms
  • William Henderson, Professor, Indiana University School of Law, Are We Selling Results
    or Resumes? The Underexplored Linkage Between Human Resource Strategies and
    Firm-Specific Capital
  • Andrew von Nordenflycht, Professor, Segal Graduate School of Business, Simon Fraser
    University, The Demise of Professional Partnership? The Emergence and Diffusion of
    Publicly-Traded Professional Service Firms
  • Roy Suddaby, Professor, University of Alberta, School of Business, Post-
    Professionalism: How Multidisciplinary Accounting Firms are Reshaping Professional
    Institutions

If I were rationed to just one word to encapsulate the conference's theme, it would be: Change.

Lawyers are notoriously poor at coping with change: Indeed, recent psychological research indicates that change is not just hard, but actually causes physical and mental discomfort. (One managing partner recounted being faced with a near insurrection among half a dozen partners when he had the temerity to relocate their Washington, DC office by all of one short city block. I must confess that that may set a new bar for resistance to change.)

Yet change is in our futures, like it or not. More than once the observation was made that from the invention of the Cravath System around the turn of the 20th Century through about 1985, the profession looked remarkably stable, but that the last 20 years have seen revolutionary changes and the next decade promises further departures at least as radical as those we've just experienced.

Among the overall trends driving change are

• Segmentatation, meaning the increasing gap between firms able to win the highest-level, most complex work for the most demanding (and price-insensitive) clients, and other firms forced to compete on the basis of price and increasingly high client expectations for service quality, responsiveness, and consistency. Once price becomes a material part of a client's selection criteria, unfortunately, firms have put one foot on an escalator that goes in only one direction. And segmentation is driving the evolution of our industry not just at the top, in AmLaw 25 land, but at every level of the industry, including regional firms, boutiques, and even "the 22 lawyer firm in Vienna, Virginia."
• Globalization. It's no longer the exceptional corporation that has substantial business abroad, it's the exceptional corporation that doesn't. This trend is not going to reverse or decelerate. 20 years ago the percentage of lawyers working at NLJ 250 firms who were in overseas offices was just a few percent. Today it's nearly 17% and grew 11% in just the last year alone.
• Consolidation. 20 years ago the AmLaw 50 accounted for about 6% of all private, for-profit law firm revenue in the US. Today they capture over 25% of that revenue.

Other themes?

Scarcely a panelist failed to mention—or concentrate on—the "war for talent" and the challenges posed to the traditional law firm career ladder by Gen Y. (Yes, the usual caveats were added about how it can be misleading to generalize about an age cohort, since individual differences always outweigh broad demographic brush-strokes, but the point is universally acknowledged nevertheless.)

A particularly painful reality on this landscape is that, for about the past 30 years, essentially 50% of law school graduates have been women, yet throughout most of that time span, the number of female partners in the AmLaw 100 has hovered at a fairly constant 15-18%. Finally, I believe, firms are going to face up to the reality that they need to take fresh approaches to the dilemma created by the fact that the prime child-bearing and family-starting years happen to coincide quite nicely with the path-to-partnership tournament years. Proposals for innovative "off-ramp" and "on-ramp" programs were floated, some potentially in conjunction with forward-looking law schools (like Georgetown) to "de-couple" those time frames.

But the overall tone of the symposium was the simultaneous thrust of excitement and challenge balanced against the uncertain and the unknown.

Would outside equity ownership be a boon or a curse?

Why exactly do law firms need capital? Aren't we labor-intensive businesses, not capital intensive (A: As currently conceived, we are. But why is the current static model necessarily the model for a dynamic future?)

What has been the history of other professional service firms that have invited outside investors?

Will outsourcing and globalization in general (permitting work to be done in the lowest-cost jurisdiction, be that IT and HR support, or paralegal or e-discovery services) supplant the model of teams of extremely high-priced and highly educated professionals operating out of Class AAA space in the center of the world's financial capitals?

Will we lose the partnership ethos? (Laura Empson of Cass Business School gave a particularly nice presentation on this at lunchtime Thursday, positing that useful ways of thinking about partnership might be as analogous to The Three Musketeers, to Henry V's famous "band of brothers" speech before the Battle of Agincourt, to a buccaneer pirate ship, or, at last, to "Gone With the Wind.")

Can the partnership ethos survive outside the legal form of a partnership? (Yes, seemed to be the consensus--albeit challenging to do so.)

Would outside ownership actually threaten ethical behavior in law firms? In this connection, three salient points were made:

• We see no evidence of publicly owned companies in other industries behaving unethically as a pattern: No airlines cutting corners on safety, no pharmaceutical companies cavalier about product tampering, and, to be sure, no one questioning Goldman Sachs' advice since their IPO.
• Could the pressure to achieve profits from passive, minority-interest outside shareholders possibly be greater than the competitive pressures to achieve maximum PPP from the press, and to retain and attract talented partners?
• And lastly, note this well: In the famous flameouts of Enron, Worldcom, et al., the "whistleblowers" with integrity were inside the corporations, not in external auditing or law firms. If anything, this data point suggests that professionals in publicly held firms do not surrender their ethical obligations at the door.

Should we be optimistic about the overall global demand for law? I believe we should. After all, don't globalizing corporations require more, not less, legal advice? (As strange as it may seem to say, could we need, in a word, more lawyers?) The "rule of law" is not, after all, self-executing.

Clients are becoming more demanding, to be sure, but it's misapprehending the situation to think it's all about fees or price; rather, it's about actually comprehending the clients' businesses. In a sense, isn't this development "back to the future," back to a day when lawyers intimately knew their clients and were institutionally close to them in ways that are unusual today? More than a few name-brand law firms, according to their managing partners, are investing more in institutionalizing the client relationship than they are in any other recent initiative, even to the point of creating a "client relationship" dimension as a third organizational dimensional matrix on top of the familiar two of practice groups and geographical footprint.

The value of human capital--the "war for talent" again--has never been higher. But it's now beyond partners and associates to non-lawyer staff and C-suite executives. Among all these groups, lawyers included, it's no longer enough to be merely technically excellent. Today's clients and today's environment call for people with high levels of "emotional intelligence" and right-brain capabilities. If this is right, we need to re-think the ideal profile of a partner (and I believe strongly that it's right).

Also, if we value human capital, what's to fear from "outsourcing?" Isn't that just another way of saving a generation of associates from the equivalent of being consigned to working in the textile mills of e-discovery? (Whenever politicians rail against NAFTA or other free trade agreements, I always wonder which voters are out there desperately hoping their children have the opportunity to grow up and go to work in a textile mill.) Perhaps young associates should be exposed to one and only one tour of duty in e-discovery, but we know for a fact that too much of that is why on average they leave after 2.5-3.0 years. Wouldn't you?

Finally, as to the future, my own belief is that assuming the Legal Services Act comes into effect as currently scheduled in the UK, the inevitable flow of money from some firms that will take advantage of outside investment (and there will be some firms) will sluice into the US. Trying to stop the flow through prohibition and regulation will only lead to feckless, disruptive, and pointless excursions into attempted micro-management of global law firms' capital structure, an effort unrealistic at its core and doomed to swift failure. If you doubt money's vibrant ability to find its own level, I have three words for you: "campaign finance reform."

At the point where bar associations here, sclerotic and paleolithic as they are, are forced to confront a new marketplace reality, they will actually have no alternative but to respond in ways that recognize and accommodate that reality, and to get over their hundred years' war against genuine competition in the profession. And, it is my devout hope, they will awaken to the need for a "level playing field" in our global economy.

On this point, the insanity of firms' being potentially subject to 51 different jurisdictional bar authorities in the United States was, without exception, roundly denounced. GE (for example) gets to choose whether it wishes to be incorporated in Connecticut, New York, California, Delaware, or somewhere else entirely. Why shouldn't Latham have the same choice?

The conversation on this topic, brief as it was, focused on acknowledging the blisteringly obvious antique anomaly of "presence-based" regulation. The only interesting note to add is that corporate clients would presumably be roundly in favor of unitary law firm bar regulation since it would at once obviate the need to hire duplicative local counsel in jurisdictions far and wide for no commercial, economic, or strategic purpose.

Do we have all the answers?

I've never been at a conference before where so many readily admitted to so few answers. But that's the way entrepreneurship and innovation proceed. Not by knowing to a fare-thee-well what all will work, by specifying it exhaustively in advance, but by experimenting. New businesses are not created by figuring out in advance every possible contingency that could go wrong and only launching then; they're created by the "ready, fire, aim," mindset. Or, as I said in a prior life as CEO of a dot-com, "mid-course corrections are my middle name."

In my own presentation, I took issue with the assumption that our industry is not capital-intensive by opining that that's static, not dynamic, thinking, constituting a great failure of imagination. And by analogy I used evolution's famous "Cambrian Explosion" (great video courtesy of WGBH here) . If you're not familiar with this, the story is simple:

• For the first 3-1/2 billion of the Earth's 4-billion years, all nature knew how to produce were single-celled organisms: Algae, fungi, protozoa, etc.
• Then, from about 530-580-million years ago, evolution came upon and exploited the miraculous invention of multi-cellular organisms.
• Every single order of Animalia that exists today was invented during the Cambrian explosion.
• There were a huge number of dead ends, wrong turns, mistaken detours, and fundamentally bad designs (creatures with five eyes)
• But there was a never-before-or-since efflorescence of innovation including such truly useful structures as eyes, ears, scent, and four limbs. (Four limbs, if you're interested in mobility, are Truly Useful. There's a reason cars have four wheels.)

Do we know where it's all going, or where, as some linear extrapolations had it, where we'll be in 2025 as an industry? Not on your life.

But could you or I imagine such a conference even as recently as three years ago? Not I.

Hope to see you three years hence at the next conference.

Updates:  29 April 2008

Two addenda which have come in since I originally published this.  The first is an article, which is self-explanatory, and the second is an incisive comment by the General Counsel of a Fortune 500.

Second, we have our astute GC's thoughts:

"Bruce -- Sounds like an interesting conference.  It's a shame that in-house counsel appear to be poorly represented – after all, we are the reason for existence of most private practice counsel (and ultimately the source of revenue to support the legal education system).  Those attending have a high degree of interest in maintenance of the current extremely profitable and robust status quo as opposed to being agents for change.  The in-house community needs legal service providers as we simply cannot in-source all our work.  As such we need our law firms to be profitable.  We can move to a world where law firms are merely suppliers or one where they are partners and accept risk and reward in exchange for value -- but in either case, change must occur.  That change must take place at the law schools which need to train and produce counselors not lawyers (i.e., more focus on practical delivery of real world legal services) and at the law firms that must change their economic model to focus on profits through cost reductions as opposed to top line revenue growth.  We simply must begin a dialogue to focus on value -- and that means achieving the business client's objectives effectively and efficiently.  Generally speaking, clients are not interested in winning cases or answering interesting questions of law -- we are interested in reaching our business objectives profitably and with a focus on compliance and stakeholder value.  If there is indeed a war for talent, I do not believe it's a war that clients are asking law firms to fight, much less are willing to pay for.”

As for the relative paucity of inhouse counsel, guilty as charged.  As one of the organizers of the conference, all I can offer in mitigation is that we wanted law firm leaders to feel free to speak openly about their appetite for change and we perhaps assumed a little too casually that the presence of a large representation of GC's would make people feel defensive or guarded.  A senior representative of the ACCA was there, however, and made some of the very points advanced by our GC friend here.

I'll continue to update this as additional commentary comes in.

Hard Economics & Associate Lockstep

No question is posed to me more frequently these days than, "What does this economic environment mean for law firms?"

To which the only sensible answer is, "It's way too soon to predict anything for sure, but each firm's own situation is sure to differ."    Indeed, it's true that we've seen layoffs at Cadwalader, Clifford Chance, Thacher Profitt, and as of yesterday Thelen Reid, as noted on the WSJ Law Blog.  Yet I've also had conversations with managing partners who tell me that the first quarter of 2008 is shaping up to be as strong as any last year.  So what's going on?

I've written about this environment before, and recently, as in:

• "Prospects for 2008"
• "Think Different.  Who, Me?"
• "Don't (Only) Sweat the Small Stuff"
• "Glass Not Half Full"
• "A Contrarian Bounce?", and
• "The Upcoming Banana?"

If I had to summarize where I stand, I'll reiterate that at this stage in the cycle I remain a "worried optimist."

But since loudly and confidently declaring one's economic predictions is essentially a mug's game (as the joke has it, "you could lay all the economists in the world end to end and they wouldn't reach a conclusion"), the real question is, What should you do?

I have a thought:  Let's re-examine associate lockstep.

Again, this is not the first time I've written about this; in "Fealty to Anachronisms," I reported last June on Howrey's ditching associate lockstep.  But it's time to revisit the issue.

To begin, it helps to step back and take a deep breath before we ask probing questions about a custom we take so very much for granted—one which has been ingrained as a core element of the "Cravath System" dating back to the turn of the prior century.

But if you look at our industry's practice of compensating associates from the perspective of corporate America—or even from the perspective of the putative "man in the street"—I'm put in mind of nothing so much as the New York Times music critic reviewing an early Verdi opera with an especially preposterous plot:  "If I tried to explain to you why Ernani kills himself, we'd be here all week and at the end you wouldn't believe me anyway."

Isn't that about right?  How on earth is it that we've brainwashed ourselves to believe  associate lockstep makes sense?

I submit that in no other business does compensation turn almost solely on year of graduation or year of admission to the profession.  Are we right and the rest of the for-profit economy wrong?  If you're with me at least to this point, now is the opportunity of an economic cycle to re-examine this hoary tradition.

The moment's propitious because, regardless of one's views of the health of our revenue streams going forward, savvy attention to cost is always a virtue, and given the recent spike in associate salary "going rates," real money is at stake.  (I might add that clients appear irrationally anything but exuberant about the associate salary spike.  This may make zero sense economically but it seems to clients to make great sense psychologically.  Ignore it at your peril.)

How then might you wean your firm away from associate lockstep?  Start by taking a page from the playbook of firms, such as Howrey and notably Latham, that have done it already.  Some ideas:

• Create "bands" rather than "years," and group associates past the first or second year into perhaps three such bands of seniority.
• Within each band, which would have a minimum, median, and maximum salary range, determine the place of individual associates based on 360° assessments.
• Permit, indeed encourage, deviations from seniority; that is, after all, what this is all about.  Why not have a third-year who's a superstar earn more than a fifth-year who's hanging on by their fingernails? 
• Deviations from seniority achieve a number of salubrious objectives:
  • They tell the truth to associates about how the firm views their performance;
  • The associate's costs begin to more roughly approximate their value to clients;
  • The firm can more wisely target its scarce salary and bonus dollars to those it wants to keep, now divorced from the artificial constraints of lockstep year-by-year compensation;
  • Billing partners are liberated from the awkward conversations with clients about associates' increased rates; if a client notes that a particular associate's rate has gone up, it's not because another year has ticked over on the calendar, but rather it's because the firm has decided that associate's performance—and value to the client—has increased.

Perilous times are often the most conducive to change.  As a managing partner said to me, "Change is easiest when the house is on fire."  Don't wait for the house to be on fire. 

But explore creative alternatives to business as usual.  Your partners, and your associates, will thank you for it.

Update (24 March):

A 3L at a heavy-duty law school writes (reproduced by permission, but anonymously):

"Hi, I am currently a 3L at [...]. I very much agree that firms should move away from lockstep pay, but I do wonder whether an economic downturn would be a feasible time to do it. I will be starting at a firm in the fall, one of the "bulge bracket" NY firms that you refer to, and it occurs to me that now would not be the time to implement this there. Two of the largest and most profitable practice groups are litigation and M&A (unsurprisingly). I have been told that M&A is fairly cyclical and litigation is mildly counter-cyclical, that the partners are aware of this and that they fully expect hours to fluctuate accordingly. However, the M&A people have been working their tails off for the past few years under lockstep pay. If this program is implemented now, the M&A people will probably resent the fact that it is starting while they have to sit on their hands, rather than in the last few years where they put in superlative hours. Furthermore, lockstep pay helps to avoid causing people to fret about their reduced hours during downturns in business, whereas lockstep pay might cause competition for work that might damage the firm's atmosphere. More generally, how should firms thinking about switching to merit pay deal with fairness between different practice groups that operate according to different business cycles?"

He raises an interesting point, one I did not address in this  piece initially, which is why I wanted to append his question and my thoughts.

Which are two:  First, to the extent variable compensation under my hypothetical scheme would include a material component reflecting hours billed, our faithful correspondent is correct that timing issues and practice group cyclicality will all but ensure that someone's ox is gored during the transition from lockstep.   There are ways to solve or at least ameliorate that, of course, and were someone to actually ask me to advise on such a transition, I'm quite certain I would recommend a "glide path" during the transition that would even out any capricious inequity.  After all, everyone knows what's hot and what's not:  You just have to address it as adults.

But second, implicit in his question is the assumption that a large portion of the variability in compensation would reflect the absolute level of billable hours.  I don't know if I implied that in the original piece, but now that the predicate is laid bare, I will plead to only the most tepid endorsement of that assumption.  More precisely, I will endorse the notion that "more hours means more  $$" within the scheme I outlined only with the following understandings:

• There's an important distinction between the workload of a practice area overall and the hours billed by any individual associate.
  • It's unfair to penalize associates for a low overall level of activity in their group—if that's anyone's fault, it's the partners' (or the economy's).
  • Conversely, I believe it's not only fair but the soul of meritocratic capitalism to reward individuals for hours at the right of the bell curve within their group and to ding individuals at the left.
• But the heart of my proposal as I envision it has almost nothing to do with hours and everything to do with professional development and progress along the curve of being a high-performing practitioner.  What I care about are:
  • Pure legal excellence:   Analytic ability, attention to detail while not losing sight of the big picture, an instinct for getting to the core of a matter.
  • Writing and speaking clearly, effectively, and precisely.
  • Being able to team with colleagues within the firm, up, down, and sideways.
  • Client relationship skills—beyond dutifully reporting what clearly has to be reported—extending into the realm of potentially excellent client service overall.

A thought-provoking followup.  Thank you (and you know who you are).

Process or Passion?

A major article appears in this month's American Lawyer, penned by Ben Heineman, most famously ex-GC of GE, and David Wilkins, Harvard Law professor. Both are now deeply involved in HLS's Program on the Legal Profession, whose stated mission is "to build bridges between the academy and the profession."

The article, "The Lost Generation?", subtitled "demoralized and dispirited, big-firm associates are defecting in droves. Here's what firms, and their clients, can do about it," is one of which it might be said, "Attention must be paid." Between them, Heineman and Wilkins contribute more diverse experience of the world and more IQ points per paragraph than has graced any other article yet published this year.

First, permit me to summarize their arguments, and then I'll offer my own humble coda.

The problem, in a nutshell, is attrition. Despite increased salaries and bonuses, more (professed) attention to work/life balance and associate development, more indisputable investments in stress management, concierge services, and day-care, by years three to four anywhere from 30 to 50% and more of associates are out the door.

The reasons are well-known:

• Having paid off law school debts, they're done.
• Private equity and investment banking pay better and are sexier.
• They figure they won't make partner--and aren't sure they'd like to, based on what they see of partners' lifestyles.
• Other obvious reasons like following a spouse to a different city or deciding to become the "at home" spouse.

But then David and Ben delve deeper into the associate/partner disconnect within large firms and unearth more subtle, cultural, professional, and personal reasons for the appalling rates of attrition:

• A depressingly high ratio of drudge-work to interesting work. (As one commenter to the WSJ Law Blog piece on the article put it, "One word: e-discovery!")
• Large matters staffed by large teams where junior associates feel peripheral and marginalized.
• Partners' inability to communicate (junior partners are especially singled out for this critique).
• Utter opacity about:
  • firms' finances
  • associates' chances for partnership
  • the criteria for partnership
• Corporate clients who, as the authors put it, "are unwilling to take risks on young associates and unwilling to pay their rates, so associates may not have interesting opportunities such as doing important work, meeting with businesspeople, or traveling to depositions, hearings, or arguments." [We'll come back to this.]

And they claim that this has all changed markedly for the worse in the past 20 to 30 years. This one sentence may summarize the article:

"Big-firm associates, then, may be a lost generation: a cohort of junior lawyers whose initial professional experience is extremely unsatisfying, who are turned off by the traditional rite of passage in a large firm, and who are not developing as legal professionals in the broadest sense of that phrase."

Here they may have put their fingers on what I think could be one of the defining challenges to the profession in the near future: Climbing the mountain of finding the next generation of committed professionals. Ben and David proceed to enumerate some suggested reforms attempting to ameliorate the barriers that young associates seem to feel stand in their way. Most are conventional extrapolations of things a few firms are already doing, and perhaps the question is whether the cumulative impact of all of them would really change the proportion of associates who feel inspired.

Their core recommendation is surely sound: Expose associates early on to real work even if they're bystanders and not participants. Only if junior associates have a sense of the drama of high-stakes litigation or deal-making will there be a prayer of their staying enough years to begin doing it themselves.

Ben and David's prescription thus includes these elements:

• Having junior associates attend key meetings, albeit "off the meter;"
• "Seconding" third or fourth-year associates to corporate clients to get a more textured sense of what companies actually do with legal advice and how lawyers fit into the overall corporate hierarchy;
• Somewhat obviously, expanding pro bono commitments;
• And equally obviously, expanding opportunities to "lend" associates to governmental agencies; but most important of all
• Really and truly demanding that partners devote time and emotional commitment to professional development, including competency benchmarks and internal career counseling.

Do we, then, have a credible response to the dilemma of ever-higher compensation and ever-higher attrition?

Almost. The authors are far too generous to corporate clients and put essentially the entire burden of associate development on law firms. Yes, I understand the financial pressures on GC's to cut costs just as their other C-suite comrades are doing, but I'll bet you that the CFO is not second-guessing junior trainees being on the outside auditor's team and the CMO is not telling the ad agency to leave the assistant account executives back at the office.

It's actually worse than that, because the same GC who (for example) instructs outside counsel not even to bother putting first-year's on the bill because their time will only be zero'ed out is going to go right back to those same firms to poach mid-level's when the inhouse department needs to staff up. Economists call this free-riding, but it doesn't take an economics background to label it for what it is: Patently hypocritical, exploitative, and plain old unfair.

Corporate America, which presumably benefits first and foremost from the services of BigLaw, needs to behave more as a business partner and less as a distant third-party willing to exploit the reality that right now there's a lot of sand in the gears when the interests of law firms and the interests of young associates try to mesh.

Nevertheless, many components of what Ben and David have laid out are, as I said, inarguable.

But even if we could get corporate America to help the situation rather than throw fuel on the fire, one other thing is missing, and that is passion for the profession: Inspiring it, cultivating it, sustaining it. These are the among the missions of law firms (and yes, clients), because it's passion and only passion for the intellectual challenges and the creative possibilities of the profession that can sustain a lifetime of engagement and performance at the highest levels. Understandably, we're more comfortable talking about processes and procedures and techniques; but let's not lose sight of what we're trying to achieve. Lifetime commitment to the practice.

Don't (Only) Sweat the Small Stuff

While we're all obsessing over the sub-prime crisis, the credit crunch in general, the housing market's retrenchment, the inability to mark to market CDO's, the devilish tendency of "liquidity" to be robust when you don't need it and nonexistent when you do, whether worldwide financial institutions' losses and writedowns will total $150-billion, $250-billion, or some other number entirely, and the implications of all of this for our firms in terms of practice groups and geographic focus, it may make sense to stand back, take a deep breath, and look at what's going on with global capital markets over the long run.

Stepping up to this particular plate is one of the most familiar suspects: McKinsey.

In their "Long term trends in the global capital markets," they offer the following perspective:

• Globally, financial assets are on a growth tear, and this should be expected to continue.
• As a consequence, financial markets are deeper than they ever have been.
• Cross-border transactions and investment links have never been stronger.
• Emerging markets are continuing to surge, outpacing GDP growth in those economies.
• New sources of capital are emerging.
• Japan continues to be challenged.
• The euro is emerging as a potential worldwide rival to the dollar, as European cross-border transactions accelerate.
• Nevertheless, the United States has unparalleled strengths, and despite all the ink being spilled over "sovereign wealth funds" and the like, the actual composition of foreign equity ownership might surprise you.

Now, to unpacking some of this wealth of data and analysis.

Growth of financial assets

Over the past 25 years, all financial assets (the value of all bank deposits, government debt securities, corporate debt securities, and equity securities) have grown strongly: From 2006 to 2007 alone, +17% from $142-trillion to $167-trillion. Bank deposits are a decreasing share. This shows the "CAGR" (compound annual growth rate) of equity securities' value over the past 10 years to be 10.4%, private debt securities 10.7%, government debt 6.8%, and bank deposits 7.8%. (It's heartening that the slowest growth has been government debt.)

Financial market growth outpacing GDP

"Financial depth" is the ratio of a country's financial assets to its GDP, and the good news it that it's been increasing consistently across all global regions. Why is this good news? More liquidity, more capital access for borrowers, better risk allocation.

In 1990, only 33 countries had financial assets whose value exceeded GDP; by 2006, 72 did. Likewise, in 1990 only 2 countries had financial assets triple their GDP; by 2007, it was 26.

Growing cross-border links

Cross-border investments are at an all-time high, making us more financially interdependent across the globe than ever before. If cross-border investments are deemed to include foreign investments of multinationals, ownership of foreign debt and equity by investors, and foreign lending and deposits, it totals $74.5-trillion at the end of 2006, or about half of all global financial assets.

Of greater interest is the changing composition of this investment. Ten years ago the US was the predominant hub. Today, while the US is still first among equals, the eurozone and the UK have built important links to emerging markets, and the Middle East is emerging as a major player on the global stage.

Here are the schematic cross-border flows, first the $31-trillion of such flows in 1999 and second the $48-trillion of such flows in 2006 (constant dollars):

Of particular note here is not just the overall growth, but trends in its composition:

• The US more than maintained its share, as did the mature economies of the UK and the Eurozone.
• In relative value, Japan lost ground.
• The strongest ties (red arrows) remained between the US and the UK and the Eurozone.
• Flows to Latin America more than doubled.
• Whereas in 1999 many of the linkages showed less than $1-trillion of movement (light blue/grey lines), by 2005 those weak links had all but disappeared.
• The emerging economies of Russia and Eastern Europe, and of "emerging Asia" roughly tripled their participation in the global economy, on this measure.
• But the most stellar performance of all came in the Middle East's increasing integration into the global financial economy, with flows more than quadrupling.  (And you were wondering why Latham just announced the simultaneous opening of three offices there, in Abu Dhabi, Dubai, and Doha?)

Emerging markets emerge

Last year, one quarter of the entire growth of global financial assets arose from emerging market economies. And they still appear to have substantial running room, accounting for only 14% of financial assets but 23% of global GDP.  And although bank deposits are still the most valuable asset class, reflecting these economies' immaturity, they accounted for 35% of all IPO value in 2006, up from 10% in 2000.  Chinese companies alone raised as much in IPO's in 2006 as did all companies in the eurozone combined.

New providers of capital

You would imagine that the world's richest countries would be the pre-eminent suppliers of global capital, but just because that's logical does not mean it's true. In fact, emerging markets are, as we all know, the largest suppliers of capital, with outbound foreign direct investment, at $139-billion in 2006, doubling from 2005 and sextupling from 2001.

But the flow is not just one-way. A total of $700-billion of inbound foreign direct investment took place in 2006, amounting to 6.4% of those countries' GDP. In other words, the developed and the developing world are linked in the capital markets as never before.

Here are the net capital flows (outflows - inflows) in constant 2006 dollars (billions) for 34 emerging markets including Brazil, China, India, the Philippines, Russia, South Korea, and Thailand (among others):

The continuing ennui of Japan

There are almost too many ways to enumerate the continuing weakness of Japan, but here are a few:

• Despite its proximity to emerging Asian economies, it accounted for just 6% of foreign funds invested there.
• Its government debt is truly enormous, amounting to 150% of GDP and one-third of all its financial assets.  Not counting that debt, its financial depth ([value of financial assets]/[value of GDP]) would essentially be at the 1990 level.  In that same period, the financial depth of the US has increased 168 percentage points and the eurozone 173.

The sources of direct investment into the emerging Asian countries in 2006 (totaling $2.2-trillion) show the US with a commanding lead at 29%, Hong Kong plus Singapore plus Taiwan at 24%, the UK at 18%, the eurozone at 14%, and Japan's slice smaller than "the rest of the world:"

The strength of the euro

While the euro's rise against the dollar is by now old news, what's less well known is that in the spring of 2007 the total value of all euros in circulation surpassed that of all US dollars in circulation for the first time—and there may be no looking back.    And while central banks and other financial institutions still hold two-thirds of their reserves in dollars, the euro's share has grown from 18% in 1999 to 25% today.  It is probably already the most popular currency for companies issuing international bonds.

The US' relative strength

But it's far too soon for Yanks to despair. 

The US remains the most liquid and largest financial market, with nearly one-third of all assets, and the strongest absolute growth rate of any market in the world.  Also on the positive side of the ledger is that only 5% of US financial assets constitute government debt.

And we keep attracting nearly 25% of all global inflows, as the largest single destination for foreign direct investment—as well as being the largest single source of outgoing foreign direct investment.

Foreign ownership of equities

Given all the alarms raised about increasing foreign ownership of US assets, where do you suppose the US ranks in foreign-owned equity as a percentage of all outstanding equity, compared to, say, the Eurozone, the UK, and Japan?

Dead last, by a long shot.  Here are the figures, for 1990 and 2006:

At 14% foreign ownership (today), the US trails all other economic regions by far, and is just barely ahead of emerging Asian markets in its proportion of domestic control.

Where does this leave us?

At the most fundamental level, if you ever doubted globalization is here to stay, get over it. 

At the strategic and tactical levels, as you look at the ongoing market turmoil, with new reports seemingly daily of another name-brand institution taking a big writedown or another arcane corner of the credit markets getting the flu, take a deep breath and have the courage to raise your eyes above the short-term chaos towards the horizon.

• The US is not sliding into global capital markets irrelevance.
• The axis of power in Asia is shifting from Japan to China.
• The eurozone will continue to matter more than ever.
• The Mideast is emerging from its provincial, resource-heavy and passive stance to becoming a globally aware, capital-heavy and active player.
• Cross-border flows are enormous and look primed to escalate even further.

Then ask yourself what capabilities your firm has to capitalize on these trends.  If you don't like the answer, now, when the conventional wisdom seems to be advising "hunker down," may be the time to pick up some capability for less than it would have cost you a year ago.  And if you do like the answer, I'd advise pretty much the same:  Steal a march on your more timid competitors so that you're prepared to emerge from this period of stress more capable and more broadly positioned than before.

Hard to do, you're saying?  With some of your key practice areas showing severe signs of stress? 

Yes, you must address the current smoke before it becomes a fire.  But what you cannot do is to permit "sweating the small stuff" to be the enemy of building on the big stuff: Financial globalization with a vengeance.

The Story Behind the Reed Smith/Anderson Kill Story

By now it's been amply reported that 55 of Anderson Kill's 126 lawyers are leaving for Reed Smith, effective February 1.   In classically hyper-ventilating fashion, the Brits (Legal Week) reported that Reed Smith "has swooped, ...taking almost half the fee-earners."  Adding to the somewhat melodramatic coverage given the story were confused and even conflicting statements initially coming from the two firms.  For example, on law.com the two firms couldn't seem to agree on the number actually departing, with Reed Smith sticking by the figure of 55 and Anderson Kill rather obliquely calling the number departing "fluid."  Meanwhile, on the widely read WSJ Law Blog, their second story about it said:

"Law Blog colleague Amir Efrati spent a good part of today tracking down the story behind the story. The Law Blog’s conclusion: given how little the firms agree on the circumstances surrounding the failed merger, it might be just as well that they didn’t tie the knot."

I decided I'd prefer to get to the bottom of things on my own, so last weekI had a chance to catch up with Greg Jordan, Reed Smith's managing partner, and the real story is a bit more complex (and human, and nuanced) than the immediate and somewhat sexed-up reports would have had it.

First, here are some of the basic facts:

• As noted, the deal is effective 1 Feb 2008
• A total of 56 lawyers out of about 120 at Anderson-Kill are coming over to Reed Smith:  25 partners, 3 counsel, 27 associates.
• Some  of the key personnel who came over include:
  • Jeffrey Glatzer, a bankruptcy litigator, and former Anderson Kill firm-wide president and CEO
  • Lawrence Kill, an antitrust lawyer and a name partner
  • James Davis, managing partner, Chicago
  • John Ellison, managing partner,  Philadelphia
  • Steven Cooper, head of litigation, and  J. Andrew Rahl, Jr., head of bankruptcy, both members of the executive committee.

As for how the talks began—and they were merger talks at the outset—Greg reported, which is not news, that Reed Smith is always on the lookout for ways to build  key practice areas, and since insurance recovery work is an important practice, the talks with Anderson Kill were logical. 

Another aspect of the early reports was also correct:  That the merger talks ultimately broke down over conflicts.  The exact nature of the conflicts, however, is slightly different than typically implied—it was not that Reed Smith represents large swaths of the insurance industry and Anderson Kill typically sues the insurance industry—but rather that the two firms found themselves representing different interests in some large bankruptcy proceedings.  (The rules and customs of the federal bankruptcy court are, shall we say, beyond the scope of "Adam Smith,  Esq.," but suffice to note that they are a land unto themselves where, among other things, even knowing and informed  consent to waiving potential conflicts is often a non-starter.)

Things then got complicated. 

Whether or not the conflicts were irreconcilable, ultimately, it was simply too hard—quite understandably—to ask  one or both of two groups of dedicated lawyers who had worked long and hard on sizable matters to resign their client representations.  And so the merger talks broke off.

But introductions had been made and some unmistakably positive impresions formed.  Soon, some senior Anderson Kill partners came back to Reed Smith and asked if they could still merge if they could  do it with almost everyone instead of everyone.  Reed Smith's response was that since it wouldn't work as a "whole firm" merger, then it was really up to Anderson Kill to solve their partnership issues and work out any alternative they'd like to propose, but that  Reed Smith would entertain continuing discussions if they could do that and there was anything they wanted to come back with.

Ultimately, the Anderson partners did resolve their issues and Reed Smith extended offers to 57 lawyers at Anderson Kill and 56 accepted.  As Greg somewhat ruefully put it, "it ended up being a heck of a lot more complicated than a straight merger would have been."

Does Greg have any regrets as to how it played out?

"In terms of the business for both firms, going forward, absolutely not!  For us, it's one more step in our  plan of filling in  gaps in our  practice areas, helping us build out our litigation and restructuring practices, and continuing to invest in our key offices in New York, Chicago, and Philadelphia.  And as for Anderson Kill, we think, they are going to do very well going forward; they have a good group and a good plan and we wish them all the success in the world."

Absolutely no regrets?

"Well, I have to admit  the way it  was reported made us look a little predatory—that was unfortunate and unfair.  But  I guess I understand it made for a better story."

What, then, are we left to learn from this?   My read is that both firms—and, on the whole, the individuals  involved—are going to be far better off in the long run.  And I don't think this is happy talk.

One of the peculiarities of the practice of almost any individual lawyer, and one of the few abiding truths in our world, is that some people are better off having a platform behind them that provides a diver

unse practice set, high capacity when needed, and a relatively ambitious geographic footprint, and for others those characteristics are irrelevant at best and an expensive and irritating distraction at worst.

My working hypothesis about all this, then, is that the people involved understood that—intuitively and subconsciously if not analytically and with cold rigor—and made  their self-enlightened choices.

Where I come from, that's the way the market is supposed to work.

And don't we, after all, see this all the time on a smaller scale (one admittedly not lending itself to breathless leads in the press)?  Don't we see people migrating laterally from smaller boutiques, regional and specialty firms, to larger national and international platforms, and don't we  also see exactly the reverse?  This was simply a bunch of people doing both those things simultaneously.

The Ten Years' War

It's been nearly a decade since McKinsey published the seminal article, The War for Talent, but many of its abiding observations remain true today and indeed are worth revisiting. What they found ten years ago started from the implacable demographic reality that the baby boom generation was passing through the senior management pipeline and that there were far fewer bodies coming down the pike in the future.  It can be summarized thus:

"What we found should be a call to arms for corporate America. Companies are about to be engaged in a war for senior executive talent that will remain a defining characteristic of their competitive landscape for decades to come. Yet most are ill prepared, and even the best are vulnerable."

And their recommendations?

• First, make the war for talent a top priority of the entire organization, starting at the top. That means spending senior partner time interviewing not just lateral partners, but lateral associates and all associates, at regular intervals, to discover what's on their minds.
• Make sure you have a compelling answer to the question, "Why would a very talented person want to work here?"
• Recruit continuously. Not just seasonally, and not just when you think you have an opening. Constantly be on the lookout for talent. (I might add that in the current fear-of-recession marketplace, this is more true than ever; perfectly good talent may find itself on the street, or on the fence, for no good reason. Be opportunistic.)
• Put people in situations before they're entirely ready. This is one of the hardest for lawyers to endorse, but if you think back on your own career, I'm sure you'll find it the most penetrating of all the observations and recommendations on this list. When you were thrown in the deep end of the pool, you did learn to swim, didn't you? And you've never forgotten it, right? Give someone else that opportunity. After all, you'll be standing by the side ready to throw them a rope all along.
• Move the poor performers out. It's not only humane (in the long run), it's essential for the morale of the high performers and it's essential for you, in order to give yourself time to concentrate on the higher performers.

But that was then and this is now.

Today, McKinsey has a ten-years-after update, Making Talent a Strategic Priority. If anything, the problem is more acute. According to two new surveys, executives consider finding talent their most pressing priority, and they also expect intensifying global competition for that talent. No other consideration ranked higher in priority over the next five to ten years.

Yet the obstacles to giving talent management its due are high, and familiar:

• Senior management can't spend enough high-quality time on it;
• The firm is "silo'ed" and departments don't share information about promising up and comers;
• There's no real talent management "strategy;" it's more catch as catch can; and
• Practice group managers don't adequately address underperformance, even when it's chronic.

Interestingly, McKinsey cites three developments as intensifying the new 21st Century war for talent. Each seems as if it were designed to target our industry:

• The rise of knowledge workers;
• Globalization; and
• Demographic changes (read: Gen X/Y).

But haven't we all heard that the enormous graduation rates of professionals in the developing world will raise all our boats? That we'll be able to find talented Indian lawyers, native English speakers, to walk hand in hand (well, I speak figuratively) with us into the developing world's future? That Silicon Valley will be able to find the talented electrical engineers, Boeing the mechanical engineers, the Big 4 the CPA's, etc., etc.?

Not so fast.

Here's a striking graphic compiled in response to the question, "Of 100 graduates with the 'correct' degree, how many could you employ if you had demand for all?"  In other words, this is asking—aside from the technical baseline qualification—what percentage would actually be suitable material to bring into your organization.

Since this is hard to read, here are some top-line figures:

• The highest percentage deemed suitable, 50%, are engineers from Central & Eastern Europe.   Notably, Russia scores drastically lower, at a mere 10%, a figure matched by China and barely exceeded by Brazil.
• In "finance and accounting," where India and China are supposed to have superior educational systems, only 15% would be considered suitable.
• But the most interesting figures for our crowd are of course in the "generalist" column, where a virtually nonexistent 3% of Chinese would be suitable, and a bottom-scraping 8% of Brazilians and 10% of Russians and Indians (11% of Mexicans).

In other words, the vaunted fecundity and educational rigor of the developing world is not exactly going to ride to our demographically-challenged need for talent.    Shortcomings cited in the McKinsey survey included poor English, dubious educational qualifications, and, overall, "cultural issues" such as inexperience with teamwork and a reticence to take a leadership role or show initiative.  While some shortfalls (English fluency) can be remedied through training, in my experience cultural ones essentially never are—certainly not on the wide scale needed to make a big difference here.

Which brings us back to Gen Y, people born after 1980.  Here's the best synopsis of all that's different about Gen Y that I've seen to date:

"People in this group see their professional careers as a series of two- to three-year chapters and will readily switch jobs, so companies face the risk of high attrition if their expectations aren’t met. The Gen Y cohort, already representing 12 percent of the US workforce, is therefore perceived as substantially harder to manage than its predecessors. As one North American HR director explained, 'The millennial generation doesn’t want to work 100 hours a week. These kids want a different deal; they have seen their parents work all their life for the same company and then get fired. They are not interested in killing themselves for work.'"

Whether we have only ourselves to blame for this, in the sense that the past few decades have seen a terminal severing of the reciprocal bond of trust between employees and employers, is a question I shall leave to economic historians.  The point is the reality of Gen Y is quite different, and in some ways unprecedented.  But as I've said in other contexts, denial is not a coping strategy.

If, then, the ten-year-old war for talent has not only not been won but has actually escalated—which is the soundbite conclusion of McKinsey's survey—what's to be done?  A redoubled commitment to gaining a leg up on your competitors, in a word.   And that takes place through three complementary initiatives.

Target talent at all levels

It's not just about senior lateral partners, and it's not even just about lawyers.  Your firm should cultivate top talent at all levels (what the insurer Aviva calls "the vital many").  For a few reasons:  First, it's just smart business.  Second, if you only focus on the top people you broadcast a remarkably hypocritical message if you then expect all the underlings to think they matter as well.  And last, human nature loves a community—and study upon study has shown that workplaces where people feel a sense of inclusion and belonging perform at consistently higher levels, with less attrition, less unproductive navel-gazing, and less energy devoted to bureaucratic machinations.

Communicate your firm's (various) "value propositions"

A cliche, to be sure, but there's a reason so many people stress the criticality of the value proposition:  It's what motivates behavior.  It answers the question, "Why would an ambitious and talented person, with other alternatives, want to work here?"

And whereas ten years ago McKinsey speculates that there might have been one unitary response, today there clearly must be many.  The expectations of a Gen Y in Asia are likely to be quite different from those of a Gen Y in the UK or the US.  Career aspirations will also vary across geographies, backgrounds, and age and gender demographics.  But for almost all cohorts, the value of training and professional development will be a key calling card.  In the era of "free agent nation," people know that they are ultimately the only ones responsible for their own careers.

Bolster HR

This is McKinsey's last recommendation; I beg to differ.  As they note:

"Unfortunately, the credibility and influence of HR executives have declined over the past decade, and the function has failed to develop many critical capabilities. According to our research, 58 percent of all line managers believe that the HR function lacks the wherewithal to develop talent strategies in line with a company’s business objectives."

Whereas their view is that HR needs to be repaired, mine is that in many firms its reputation—certainly as a strategic asset—is tarnished beyond salvation.  Nevertheless, many of the functions McKinsey wants the new & improved HR to perform surely have to be carried out by someone somewhere.    I nominate your office managing partners.

Permit me a brief digression.  There's a long and honorable history of debating whether firms should be organized geographically by office or functionally by practice area (or, in a few more iconoclastic cases, by primary clients' industries).   This is one of those perennial debates that never seems to settle into the repose of equilibrium.  Geographic organization has its advantages and backers, and so does practice group organization.

In general, I come out pretty firmly in favor of organization by practice group.  It simply has to make more sense to focus management's attention on the collective capability of people to serve a given legal need than it does to focus on their somewhat random grouping by the happenstance of geography and history.  (And if you want to take to me about being organized along lines that follow your key client industries, that would be great fun.)  Nevertheless, the office manager organizational matrix should probably be superimposed in light grey dotted lines over the heavy black solid lines of practice group organization, and the primary reason is that office managers have the strongest sense of the local market for talent. Who's available?  What's hot/what's not?  Which firm is "damaged goods" locally?  Etc.  So I would appoint your office managers your de facto local champions of recruiting.

That our only assets are our people is a bromide too often observed in the breach.  Yet it bears repeating; they really do leave every evening in the elevator and the only thing that brings them back up tomorrow morning is their individual desire—a decision which can be reversed in a heartbeat—to give their professional best to the firm.  That HR has acquired (earned?) a bad name can't obscure this fundamental truth.

People must be your priority.  And yes, they are hard to recruit, can be hard to retain, and are almost always hard to select.  But if the last decade of advances and declines in firms' reputations and standings proves anything, it's that people make all the difference.

Unintended or Unanticipated?

On the wonderful landscape of economics, several highly visible landmarks are in the form of "laws:" The law of supply and demand, of economies of scale, of diminishing marginal utility, of the downward stickiness of wages, of decreasing returns to factors of production, etc. But my favorite by far, which strictly speaking is not limited to economics-land, is the law of unintended consequences. And herewith a celebration of that Law.

Rarely do I cite The New York Times or, for that matter, The Wall Street Journal as a source—on the assumption that you all read them anyway—but rules are made to be broken, so I commend to you "Unintended Consequences: Why do well-meaning laws backfire?" The examples are legion.

The Endangered Species Act of 1973 has demonstrably increased incentives for landowners to make their land holdings inhospitable to endangered or potentially endangered species, in order to preserve their options for development.

"The economists Dean Lueck and Jeffrey Michael wanted to gauge the E.S.A.’s effect on the red-cockaded woodpecker, a protected bird that nests in old-growth pine trees in eastern North Carolina. By examining the timber harvest activity of more than 1,000 privately owned forest plots, Lueck and Michael found a clear pattern: when a landowner felt that his property was turning into the sort of habitat that might attract a nesting pair of woodpeckers, he rushed in to cut down the trees. It didn’t matter if timber prices were low.

"This happened less than two years ago in Boiling Spring Lakes, N.C. 'Along the roadsides,' an A.P. article reported, 'scattered brown bark is all that’s left of once majestic pine stands.' As sad as this may be, it isn’t surprising to anyone who has examined the perverse incentives created by the E.S.A. In their paper, Lueck and Michael cite a 1996 developers’ guide from the National Association of Home Builders: 'The highest level of assurance that a property owner will not face an E.S.A. issue is to maintain the property in a condition such that protected species cannot occupy the property.'"

Or consider another eminently well-meaning act, the Americans with Disabilities Act, intended, at a macro level, to "mainstream" disabled Americans. So has it in fact increased access for its intended beneficiaries? Think again.

"[Economists Daren] Acemoglu and [Joshua] Angrist found that when the A.D.A. was enacted in 1992, it led to a sharp drop in the employment of disabled workers. How could this be? Employers, concerned that they wouldn’t be able to discipline or fire disabled workers who happened to be incompetent, apparently avoided hiring them in the first place."

A nice anecdote, bringing the statistics home to a personal level, is of a deaf woman seeking an orthopedist's treatment for her knee. When she inquired about a possible consultation, she asked if her deafness would pose an obstacle to treatment. The orthopedist responded that it would not, they could work together with anatomical models and written notes. The prospective patient replied that she'd like a sign-language interpreter present and the orthopedist said he'd see what it could take to set that up. Upon discovering that an interpreter would cost $120/hour with a two-hour minimum, and knowing that insurance would only pay $58 for a consultation, the orthopedist told the patient they could use written notes.

No, we can't, replied the patient: Under the ADA I've elected an interpreter and you're required to provide the accommodation to my disability that I elect.

The patient was legally correct. And the orthopedist quickly calculated that for a total fee of $1,200 for operating, but eight visits with the obligatory interpreter, he'd lose serious money. Fortunately for the orthopedist's P&L, it turned out the patient didn't need an operation. But--and here's where the Law of Unintended Consequences kicks in--how many of his professional colleagues do you suppose the orthopedist told about this encounter with the ADA? Exactly. And what are the odds of this patient's getting top-flight medical treatment down the line, once stories like this circulate? Exactly.

The point then, you're asking yourself, is?

It's this: The "law of unintended consequences" should, more properly, be called the "law of unanticipated consequences." Yes, the consequences were unintended, but the road to h*(#, as we all know, and we can't really fault policy-makers, or managing partners, for having benign intentions.

What we can (and what I do) fault them for is for taking actions or instituting policies that have consequences they do not anticipate.

Because, really, people, it's so simple. The intellectual failure of analysis that condemns the authors of the Endangered Species Act, of the ADA, and of, say, an inheritable origination-based compensation scheme, is to indulge in lazy static analysis rather than rigorous dynamic analysis. Please, do not pretend you cannot foresee how people will alter their behavior in response to altered incentives. They are not so stupid and you cannot excuse your intellectual shallowness by pretending that you expected them to be stupid and not to respond to the altered landscape.

The consequences are only "unanticipated" if you haven't thought about them thoroughly and rigorously; and to call them "unintended" is to indict yourself as a poor student of economic rationality and an even poorer student of human nature.

Update: My friend Larry Ribstein responded promptly to this piece with his own take, emphasizing:

"Actually, I’m not sure it’s about stupidity. It’s more about the inherent limitations of the political process. Interest groups use salient news stories as tools to get the laws they want (think Sarbanes-Oxley) – which may not be the laws society needs."

Surely Larry has a nice point. Many of the "bad laws" we get (his phrase) owe their passage to legislators who frankly don't care what the consequences, intended or anticipated or otherwise, are: They care about their moment in front of the cameras and the presumed boost to their unending re-election efforts (the "permanent campaign"). We, then, are left to deal with the detritus, for all practical purposes in perpetuity.

I think what Larry has in mind is what I refer to as "legislation by anecdote"—the type of thought(less) process that gives us such transparent exercises in pandering to raw emotion as "Megan's Law." What I chose to emphasize in my piece was not the public policy failures that lead to bad laws (although that's of course where the raw material for the piece started from), but rather the systematic failure to make smart, "dynamically analyzed," management and leadership choices within private firms.

Is Your Managing Partner Still Making Jet Engines?

Text #1:

"He was recruited as a very senior director in a very large City law firm. His work went well but the thing that really bugged him was the pass he had to show every time he went into the staff restaurant. The words ‘non-lawyer’ were printed on the face of it (for non-lawyer, read ‘second-class citizen’)."

Text #2:

"Firm chairs differ from corporate chief executives in an important way: There is no market for the services of a law firm chair: ... Chair vacancies at large law firms are always filled from within."

The first quote comes from LegalWeek, the second from the January 2008 issue of The American Lawyer ("Rewarding Leadership").

How are they linked? In our own profession's Paleolithic view of how to reward key individuals contributing to the business success of the firm. By "business success," I mean "success as an organized business," not mere revenue generation (rainmakers, a/k/a salesmen) or back office functionaries.

Did I just label rainmakers "salesmen?" Yes, and there you have it again; that's what they are. Understand that every viable business needs them, and that they're indispensable. One of my favorite Socratic questions from Peter Drucker is, "What one thing does every business need?" (Pause, pause, pause.) "Customers!" Of course he's right, and that's where rainmakers come into the equation.

But.

Clients don't sign up with any old firm because it has people with ample social graces, the right club memberships, and alumni networking skills. Clients sign up with firms who have capability. And capability has many dimensions.

Capability doesn't arise in a vacuum or full-blown from the head of Medusa. Capability, in fact, is the sum total result of strategy plus operational and executional ability to achieve the strategic vision. It's well past time to pay attention to the power of the strategic vision and the robustness of the execution. All of this adds up to what management consultants call "firm-specific capital."

Some firms seem to have been born into having these things—Cravath, Davis Polk, Slaughters—but of course none of them were born into it and all of them achieved it starting from the equivalent of an artist's coal-stove garret. Others have built seemingly impregnable positions from relatively recent roots: Allen & Overy, Clifford Chance, Latham, Skadden, Wachtell. These firms all are by anyone's estimation the elite of our industry.

Other firms are striving to be in the top-tier and could yet succeed: Among others I'd name as contenders (in no particular order) are:

• The US-based giants already recognized as truly global:
  • DLA (Nigel Knowles would take issue with "US-based;" apologies, Nigel)
  • Jones Day
  • Mayer Brown
  • Sidley
  • White & Case
  • [Where is Baker & McKenzie, you're asking? They're in the corner of the assembly hall reserved for---Baker & McKenzie, a firm unlike any other, in their own distinct category of one.]
• Very strong US firms with less of a global footprint:
  • Cleary
  • Kirkland & Ellis
  • Sullivan & Cromwell
  • Weil Gotshal
• The new strivers, of whom the only fair thing to say is that the jury is out, but they're making valiant efforts:
  • K&L/Gates
  • O'Melveny
  • Orrick
  • Reed Smith

The point is not to try to compile an exhaustive taxonomy, but to get one thinking about different places firms fall on the strategic/reputational/-mindshare 3-D space.

The more interesting question, and the one we started off by approaching obliquely, is: How did they get where they are?

I submit that it was through the conscious, disciplined, and forceful exercise of business leadership over time. That's why the two texts we commenced with make such a strong pair, together. Here's how "The Talent Show" summarizes the state of the art vis-a-vis those notoriously labeled "non-lawyers"(emphasis supplied):

"Extraordinary changes are happening in the legal market — whether in technology, globalisation, the advent of 'Tesco law' or the financing of firms — and the survivors will be those that find a sure way to keep their existing clients and find profitable new ones. [...] In most cases — especially for large commercial firms with any pretensions to sophistication — there is nothing for it but to apply a bit of intelligence, use modern management methods and recruit specialists in fields such as finance, human resources (HR) and IT. Oh, and then, of course, the firm needs to treat those specialists well enough to hang on to them.

"The best advice for most firms is to study their own commercial clients. How do successful organisations recruit the best talent? They get a good reputation in their field; they show that they are reliable, long-term employers; they make themselves transparent enough that potential recruits can understand why they are successful and trust the messages that are being shared; they offer career development; and, increasingly, they try to keep their workforce stimulated and proud of the fact that they work for that organisation."

And returning to the piece on how law firms reward leaders, the difference between law firm land and corporate land is not only that there is no institutional market for law firm leaders, the difference is that in corporations leadership is, without question, seen as intrinsically valuable. Leaders deserve rewards, and that means money.

Just this morning I had breakfast across from Grand Central with two leaders of a firm that has just in the past few years grown to the point where they can no long take for granted that they are or will remain a "one-firm firm." They're wondering what they can do to retain that indispensable attribute. Part of the challenge they're facing is that (with two exceptions) each of the dozen or so people on the management committee maintains essentially a full-time practice, and the compensation system has just recently been tweaked to recognize that contributions to management should be recognized, with cash.

Contrast this, I asked them in an out-loud thought experiment, with GE: Did it ever occur to anyone that Jack Welch might not be that valuable to the firm since, after all, he wasn't actually building or designing aircraft engines?

As hard as these findings may be to believe, I must recite them here for your edification and so that you can reflect on how breathtakingly backwards we are as an industry in recognizing and rewarding leadership. The authors set out to determine how leaders of AmLaw firms are compensated and how they spend their time. They report that:

• Just 40% of the firms link their chair's compensation primarily to leadership;
• 60% pay the chair just as they pay all other lawyers, based on individual performance as a lawyer.
• Now, of those 40% that provide some link in pay to leadership:
  • Half reward the firm chair exclusively based on leadership, and
  • The other half tie 50—80% of the chair's compensation to leadership.

Now, the flip side: What do firm chairs spend their time doing? They spend 90%+ of their time managing, not practicing. (Many, of course, wisely so, do not practice at all.)

So the situation reduces to this: While firms expect their chairs to devote themselves all but exclusively to management, only 20% pay the chair exclusively based on performance as a manager.

A friend likes to joke that we will know law firm management has finally adopted the corporate model when a vacancy occurs in the managing partner's job and a firm hires someone to fill the slot from another firm. Just like corporate America steals rising stars from that famous business manager finishing school in Fairfield, Connecticut: GE.

And they don't hire the guys making the jet engines.

Alternatives to PPP: The Word from London

As many of you know, back in  November I was in London for a week.  Among other activities—many other activities—I was pleased to be invited to participate in a panel discussion hosted by Guy Beringer of Allen & Overy, who was on the panel, along with his partner Stephen Denyer, Quentin Poole of Wragge & Co., and John Kelly of Bridge Consulting. 

The purpose of the panel, attended by nearly 150 people, was to discuss alternative measures of law firm performance:  Specifically, alternatives to the almighty Profits per Partner.

I was recently asked to convert my presentation to the form of a paper, presumably to be circulated through some appropriate medium along with my fellow panelists' contributions, and it occurred to me you might find it of interest.

If so, here it is.

Cheerio.

A Compensation Meditation

Our  text for today, Dear Reader, coming from The American Lawyer, is as follows:

"There's nothing like a fund-raiser at a private school in Manhattan to define your social station. Time was, lawyers were near the top of the heap. Investment bankers and other finance types have long eclipsed them, but the difference used to be one of degree. Then came private equity investors and hedge-funders, and lawyers nose-dived on the socioeconomic ladder. 'Face it, we have no status,' says an Am Law 100 partner of the pecking order at his sons' private school. 'We go to these school functions, and this well-heeled group looks right through you. They won't give you the time of day. You're just one step ahead of the doorman.'"

Now, it may seem crocodile tears to commiserate with someone making "only" somewhere north of $1-million/year and not, say, $2.5-million and up.   And to be sure there is no richer stage for the conspicuous display of excessive wealth than at Manhattan private school auctions.

But if we've learned anything from the past 30 years of psycho-social experiments addressing income inequality, it's that perceived deprivation never has anything to do with absolute deprivation:  It's all relative.  (Similarly, there's remarkable consistency across nearly all income levels when people are asked, "How much more would you have to make to feel better off?"  The answer?  An almost invariant  15—20% more, whether you're making $15,000/year or $750,000/year.)  

Still, the psychology and the economics of feeling under-appreciated are more complex than whether the leading digit on your 7-figure income is a "1" or a "2" or even how many digits your income comprises.  The goal of this column is to explore some of that complexity, and some of the drastically mixed feelings swirling around the whole subject of lawyer compensation.

Associate compensation

Let's begin, as it were, at the beginning, with associate compensation.  On few other subjects has so much maddeningly off-topic ink been spilled.  Let us line up the primary offenders.

"How can a first-year possibly be worth [$125,000/$145,000/$160,000/$180,000]?"

This typically arises from comparing first-year's to other worthy professions and careers and concluding that, for example, since librarians only make $40,000/year and first-year's are not four times more beneficial for the polity than librarians, something is out of whack.  But markets don't work that way; there is no such thing as a market for a hybrid librarian/first-year, just as there is no market for a librarian who bills out their services at $375/hour.   In other words, the "comparing-professions" argument stumbles out of the gate in confusing the presumed social benefits conferred by a slice of the labor market with what society at large ought to be willing to pay those who have chosen a career there.  Cruel, or inevitable, as it may be, markets, again, don't work that way.  The elements that go into the pricing of a first-year are far more complex, and involve at a minimum:

The return (a/k/a profit) the firm hopes to earn on the associate's labor over their tenure at the firm.  This, of course, will often be a negative  number in the case of any individual associate, but had darned well better be a positive number in aggregate (and it will be).

The competitive marketplace for graduates (a) of top law schools (b) at the top of their classes.  Here it's instructive to point out what might sloppily be thought of as a mismatch between supply and demand, as evidenced by the following chart.

This shows the total lawyer headcount of the NLJ 250 over the past 30 years or so (the green line) vs. the number of graduates of US ABA-accredited law schools (the red line) and first-year enrollment in those schools (the blue line).  It's self-evident that firms must be recruiting from more law schools and/or recruiting more deeply from each class of graduates, as the number of NLJ 250 lawyers has gone from about 25,000 in 1980 to over 125,000 today (a 500% increase) while the number JD/LLB's awarded has gone from just under 40,000 to just over 40,000 in the same period, for  perhaps a 15% increase).  The number of graduates in the top quarter of their class from the top ten schools has essentially been static.  

So that indicates a supply/demand "mismatch," right?  No:  Supply and demand always match.  What varies is price.  Next time you see a headline along the lines of "Inadequate Oil Supplies Foreseen," don't believe it.  You may not like the price, but oil will be supplied. 

That the price of first-years, then, has gone up, should surprise no one.

Associates' Compensation is Only Fair Given: (a) That They'd Gone Without a Raise for Awhile; and/or (b) The Burden of Law School Loans

Nonsense, and nonsense.  Reason (a) has been, as they say in the military, "overtaken by events."  It was a "reason" you used to hear only after the famous Gunderson-Dettmer "dot-com bump" of 2000 to $125,000 for first-year's had been in effect for some time.   Raises recently have been coming along at a nice clip, with some event predicting $200,000 is within our sights.  (The story comments on Williams & Connolly's recent raise to $180,000 for first-years in Washington—although W&C studiously avoids paying bonuses, so the comparison is not quite apples-to-apples.  Ward Bower, among others, says that it "indicates to me that top firms in New York are going to turn around and not only match it but beat it.")

Reason (b) demonstrates the sloppiest  kind of economically illiterate wishful thinking.  What it costs to go to law school—while admittedly, on average, probably more than those MBA's at the hedge funds and I-banks had to spend—has precisely  zero to do with one's post-graduation salary.  Whether you think of it as a "sunk cost," an admission ticket, or simply an investment—one whose future returns have yet to be determined, and which may be positive or negative—no one is going to pay you a penny more for an outrageous student loan burden than for a modest or nonexistent one.

Clients Complaining About First-Years' Salaries

We've all heard general counsel and other highly educated people who ought to know better griping about the "insanity" of first-year salaries (actual quote, and I could have used far more trenchant language and kept it real).

 The only intelligent response to this is, "Snap out of it!"  

Indeed, I wish our profession had more law firm leaders sufficiently courageous and plain-spoken to offer precisely that uncompromising rebuttal to what is the height of irrationality.  The economic mistake our good friends and clients are making is to pretend that it should matter to them what the prices are of specific factors of production that go into the end goods and services they buy.   No sensible buyer cares about the cost of each, or any, specific component of what they're contemplating purchasing; they care about value for price.

Here's a  concrete example:  If I'm debating whether to buy a BMW or a Lexus, do I care what the factory-line workers get paid?  For that matter, do I care what each CEO gets paid?  Not unless I'm hyperventilating about some tendentious socioeconomic cause—in which case we can stipulate my purchasing decision will not be made on the merits of value for price.

So why are clients saying these things about 1st-year salaries?   My only hypothesis, since it cannot be rational, is that it's psychological:  It could be a poisonous combination of jealousy and resentment that BigLaw associates do so relatively well so early in their careers, compared to those toiling in the vineyards of corporate legal departments.  But whatever the explanation, it is not our problem and someone should display the common sense and modicum of judgment required to tell them so.

Income not wealth

Rare is the lawyer, partner or associate, who observes that while our profession of late provides extremely handsome incomes, firms provide  no true wealth-creating opportunities compared to investment banks, private equity and hedge funds, or even good old fashioned Fortune 500's extending stock options. 

I have no explanation for why this bedrock fact goes so unremarked.  It could be that all the noise about associate salaries and PPP's drowns out the signal concerning wealth accumulation; it could be that we're all so inured to the current state of affairs that we don't think to comment upon it; or it could even be that the very fact of noting it seems to serve little purpose beyond salting the wound.

Yet senior partners in prominent firms have complained to me, on occasion, that the method by which almost all firms raise capital namely, enforced partner contributions of capital—jocularly referred to by one as "passing the hat among one's friends"—is singularly unsophisticated.   A seminal consequence of that lack of sophistication is that returns on contributed capital are below-market at best and zero at worst, meaning that some consider themselves lucky to get their contributions back intact (and unadjusted for inflation), much less to enjoy a competitive rate of return on equity ownership of a piece of their firm:  "I might as well park $X-hundred thousand or million dollars in a mattress for 25 years, for all the good my capital contribution has done me!" 

Anecdotally (but there are many many comparable anecdotes), consider the case of a fellow I know who just barely failed to make partner at a major New York City firm, only to end up years later as general counsel of a major financial services organization, with a rich stock options buffet from which to dine.  Missing out on partnership may have been the best thing that ever happened to him, financially. 

And  my point with this would be?

I have two, actually, following repetition of the meet and right reminder that there is little call for sympathy for the economic circumstances of almost anyone employed by BigLaw these days.

Firstly, we should not don the defensive cloak quite so hastily when critics attack associate salaries or ever-escalating PPP's.  That is part of the picture, and a very nice part indeed, but only part.  No one who chooses BigLaw as a career for 40 years, under the current model, will retire with accumulated wealth handed to them along the way.  They will have earned whatever they have, paid full-bore ordinary income tax on it, and then and only then been able to save and invest some portion. 

Secondly, we might begin to wonder whether the current model is all it's cracked up to be.   Lloyd Blankfein, CEO of Goldman Sachs, received "the largest payday ever for the head of a Wall Street firm" this year, namely about $69-million in cash, stock, and options awards.  And his base salary?  $600,000, or an amount entitling your firm to the quite distinct back of the pack if that's your PPP figure.  There are more ways, may I suggest, to skin the compensation cat.

On that note I conclude this holiday compensation meditation.

Are we doing what we can and should to reward the genuine achievers in our firm?  Does associate lockstep still make sense?  Did it ever?

Is paying out cash as ordinary income the only model we can conceive of?  How strained are our imaginative faculties?

On the billable hour model, what hope is there—ever—for capital creation and wealth-building?  Common wisdom about the billable hour is to the effect that lawyers and firms should love it because it's a no-lose "cost plus" model.  Is that, in fact, the most damnably short-sighted perspective possible? 

And why, again, are we as a profession so reflexively defensive about our earnings?  I haven't noticed Goldman Sachs, or Mr. Blankfein, in an apologia this week.

Do we, in fact, really know where we stand on all this?

Post- (And Pre-) Merger Integration: The Reed Smith/Richards Butler Story

As we've known since October 19, Reed Smith reached agreement to merge with Richards Butler Hong Kong, nearly a year after completing its merger with Richards Butler (UK) in London.  The agreement will add about $60-million in revenue and a little over 110 lawyers in Hong Kong and a small office in Beijing (with a license application pending to open in Shanghai), and, most importantly for Reed Smith, puts it on the third of the three continents where global firms needs to be in today's Flat World. 

I wanted to get a fuller perspective on the deal than just the facts and figures, however, so a couple of weeks ago I spoke with Tom Todd in Hong Kong, a senior Reed Smith partner who has been driving the integration and who relocated from London, where he had been working on the Warner Cranston and then the Richards Butler integrations.  Tom originally is from Pittsburgh, but evidently hasn't been spending too much time there lately.  Tom joined Reed Smith straight out of Harvard Law in 1967, and thus has been with the firm 40 years.  His undergrad degree is in history from Williams, Phi Beta Kappa.

A bit of background for those perhaps unfamiliar with the players:  Tom was part of the senior management team at Reed Smith for many years through 2000, and, as of the mid-1990's, the firm's strategic plan had been to gain stature and scope in the Mid-Atlantic and Northeast states—all in one time zone.  While this may sound unambitious, it was not to last for long, and the firm at least was one of the first to link all its offices through a single computer network, demonstrating a commitment to multi-office operations and management. 

A consensus began to emerge that the firm needed to be in London, the ultimate result of which was the 2001 merger with Warner Cranston, a UK firm with 60 lawyers in London and 10 in Coventry.  

As Reed Smith's strategic plan has evolved, one pillar has remained unchanged:  To ensure that it revolves around its clients and their needs, particularly to ensure that Reed Smith has a significant presence in markets important to those clients.  Historically, key industries for the firm have included financial services (Tom is a partner on the relationship with Mellon Financial, and continues in that role following its merger with the Bank of New York in July 2007) and life sciences.  The Richards Butler/London merger added a focus on shipping, trade finance, and media.

Getting down to the Hong Kong Richards Butler deal, Tom's first observation was to cut through the swirl of media clutter (well, at least for those of you who follow these things) that has surrounded the extended period of uncertainty following Reed Smith's merger with Richards Butler/UK (London) and its conspicuous non-merger with Richards Butler Hong Kong.  [There are tax reasons why the two pieces of Richards Butler had been set up formally as separate legal entities, which are both too obscure and too irrelevant to go into, but that was why a merger with one was not automatically a merger with the other.]  

Suffice to say that immediately upon announcement of the London deal, the question on every observer's lips was, "So, when is Hong Kong?  Or is Hong Kong?"  Tom's rebuttal to this is that all deals take time—which he believes is a good  thing—and even the UK deal had taken about a year to bring to fruition.  The Hong Kong deal was not much different, at bottom, "except that we were doing it in a fishbowl—which, let's just say, never makes things easier."

So what has  Tom been actually doing to advance the prospects for the merger and now the integration of the two firms?  First, simply getting to know all Richards Butler/Hong Kong lawyers, their practices, and their clients.  Second, facilitating introductions back and forth between Richards Butler/Hong Kong and Reed Smith in the US and UK.  Third, meeting with clients to reassure, inform, communicate, and seek their thoughts.  And finally, sitting in on, but, he notes pointedly, not leading or running the activities aimed at combining the two firms.  (A formal integration committee will be established now that the merger is approved.)

And what exactly is so special about this?  Isn't that the way any well-run firm would do it?  Perhaps, but Tom reports, and I have no basis for disagreeing, that he's not aware of any other large firm that puts a senior lawyer on the premises of the merging firm for the explicit and dedicated purpose of facilitating integration.  He notes that his role is manifestly "not to run anything, and not to change them, but to provide the glue between the two firms and help them get to know each other."  I ask if he was involved in the negotiations leading to the merger and he reports firmly that he was not.  I gather he thinks it an advantage to have stood back from the process of negotiation per se and only to step in when the firm's leadership believes he could be helpful as a partner on the ground going forward.

"And how do you know that integration has been a success?" I ask.

"Well, our philosophy has always been to try to pick people we want to combine with because of their talents and their capabilities and their knowledge of their own local marketplace (and we don't believe we have all the answers).  Our intention, our hope, and at least in part our experience, has been that if you've made the right decision you will find out there are both people and processes that will improve Reed Smith. 
"And on that score I think our track record speaks for itself:   Just look at the key people now in positions of senior management at Reed Smith that came initially from other firms:

• Dave Duckhouse, our CFO, came from Warner Cranston
• Mark Dembovsky, our Chief Strategy Officer, also came  from Warner Cranston
• Roger Parker, our Managing Partner for Europe and the Middle East was the Managing Partner of Richards Butler
• Colleen Davies, head of our Litigation Department (nearly 800 lawyers) came to Reed Smith from Crosby Heafey in that 2003 merger.

"And I could go on."

I'm sure you have heard the same objection I have to putative mergers, or even to the very thought of a merger:  "Our firm's culture is such that we could never stand for being taken over."

I submit that mergers done right are the antithesis of takeovers.  Can your firm do them right?

Stanford Law School Dean Larry Kramer on Today's Parlous State of Affairs

As some of you doubtless know, I'm a Stanford Law graduate and, both on general principles and more pointedly with undying gratitude for the rigorous and exciting analytic education it gave me, a loyal one.  (Stanford could learn volumes from Princeton when it comes to alumni loyalty, but that's another topic, and not one for the pages of "Adam Smith, Esq.")

Today I'm here as a Stanford Law alum to deconstruct a column (picked up as well by the WSJ Law Blog) by Larry Kramer, the Dean, which prefaces the current issue of The Stanford Lawyer, and to tell you that what he has to say is shockingly naive or shameless pandering to the dark and caustic forces of political correctness or, conceivably, both.  First, an extended excerpt from what he has to say:

"The focus of this issue is the state of our profession.  And that is a worrisome topic.  I have occasionally remarked, though only in small settings before today, that the state of the legal profession brings to mind Rome, circa A.D. 300. On the surface, it looks grander and more magnificent than ever, but the foundation may be about to collapse. It’s meant to be a joke. But the uneasy laugh this comment invariably elicits suggests that it may be closer to the mark than any of us wishes.

"Certainly our profession has changed profoundly in the past generation. The basic structure still looks the same: Most lawyers practice in firms, most firms are partnerships with cadres of associates, most work is performed for hourly fees, and so on. Yet it’s the traditional model on steroids: Big firms employ thousands rather than hundreds of lawyers, with offices around the world. Partner/associate ratios have changed dramatically, particularly if we focus on equity partners, while legal work has become increasingly specialized and expectations for billable hours have soared.

"Such changes have consequences. Clients, especially corporate clients, are less willing simply to pay what firms charge and much less willing to subsidize the training of young associates. Technology has exacerbated this trend, enabling clients to do for themselves things they used to need from outside counsel. Making a practice profitable has increased demand for lawyers to bill hours, which has, in turn, forced firms to raise salaries, which has further increased the need to bill hours.  Partly as a result, new associates seldom join firms intending to stay for more than a few years.  Lateral hiring has   exploded, undermining the culture and sense of community of many firms.  And factors like these have stymied or undone progress that was just beginning to be made in advancing women and minorities into the top ranks of legal practice.

"Twenty years ago, most lawyers would have scoffed at the idea that profitability, much less profits-per-partner, should be the measure of success and prestige. Yet that is where we are. Law firms are run like businesses by managing partners and committees whose time is almost wholly occupied with, well, managing. And competition is fierce: to be bigger, pay more, bill more hours, and open more offices. To be more profitable.

"Does anyone actually want this?  The lawyers, managing partners, and general counsel I meet are deeply concerned about what's happening.  Yet they feel unable to stop it, powerless to resist the stifling market forces that drive their decisions.  And for good reason, because the problems are complex and exist at every level.  Students say they want a better work/life balance, yet invariably choose the firm that ranks highest in The American Lawyer's list of the top 100 law firms. ...  And on and on.  No one can be blamed when everyone is to blame.

"I have no answer to this.   ...  "

Now, Dear Reader, are you asking yourself whether you haven't heard this same cri de coeur before?  And indeed you have, from any number of variously illustrious sources, Dean Kramer being only perhaps the most recent and  high-profile. 

We hear it in the "professionalism vs. corporatization" debates, in the "intrinsic invaluable culture vs. merger mania" debates, in the "home grown vs. lateral opportunity" debates, and, as the good Dean says, "on and on."

It's time to for me to draw a line in the sand.  I'm here to tell you this is nonsense on stilts.

• The Fortune 500 and the FTSE 100, BigLaw's core clientele, have long since gone global. 
  • Law firms should therefore not follow suit?
• The total share of all private-sector corporate profits earned by the Fortune 500 has been on a 30-year upward trajectory (even while their share of total private sector employment has stayed all but constant).
  • The AmLaw 100 should not therefore experience a similar growth path?
• We have been taught at Milton Friedmann's knee, among others, that the purpose of a business enterprise is to maximize shareholder value.
  • The partners being the functional equivalent of shareholders of a law firm, who is to gainsay what we are witnessing?
• "Law firms are run like businesses by managing partners and committees whose time is almost wholly occupied with, well, managing."
  • Shall we then return to the days of managing on the backs of envelopes, at kitchen tables, and on the train while commuting?  How, exactly, did that serve the interests of, say, Coudert Brothers, Jenkins & Gilchrist, or Dewey Ballantine?
  • Is Athenian Democracy the way to manage a several-hundred-million-dollar global enterprise?
  • Are lawyers, on average, actually very good at dabbling in management?  Is anyone any good at dabbling?
• "And competition is fierce: to be bigger, pay more, bill more hours, and open more offices. To be more profitable."
  • You bet.  We call it "client service."  Clients are global and want us to match their footprints.  I have yet to hear of one firm opening one office not in response to articulated client demand but because it suited the firm's egos—strike that:  I should have said, one "well-managed" firm.
  • Pay more?  Quelle horreur!  Perhaps to meet the market rate?  Perhaps to attract a significant lateral?  I would be surprised, but perhaps the Dean could disabuse me, if Stanford Law doesn't take market rates for law professors into account in its hiring decisions.
  • Bill more  hours?  Again, the constable is shocked.  To be sure, there are human and economic limits (which I would be the first to proclaim we are running up against), but working hard comes down to two things:  (a) client service; and (b) learning and practicing the craft.  There's a reason medical residents, surgeons, and emergency room doctors pull heroic hours, as do others in all demanding walks of life including our own corporate clients and, if we were smart, ourselves in  younger days taking advantage of blessed institutions such as Stanford Law School.
• "Lateral hiring has exploded..."
  • Actually, that horse left the barn about 20 years ago and in recent years the trend has been fairly flat.  But I view the lateral market as both one of the great exerters of centrifugal-force on firms that don't have the cultural or economic resources to exert countervailing communal forces, and as a genuine liberating influence for aspirational individuals who, through the passage of time and the evolution of their practices and client bases, find themselves through no fault of their own in the wrong firm.  Would we wish them locked in forever?  Isn't bilateral employment-at-will the most humane and liberating (meaning supportive of individual freedom) policy we could hope for?
• "Technology has exacerbated this trend [of economic pressures on firms], enabling clients to do for themselves things they used to need from outside counsel."
  • And the problem would be....?
  • To be sure, technology "exacerbates economic pressures" on virtually every pre-existing business model.  That's part of its charm.   And part of the charm of capitalism itself is to inflict creative destruction. 
  • Technology, lest we forget, is also perhaps the most empowering force for good (and for evil—al Qaeda recruits online like nobody's business) our generation has experienced.  I for one am  not about to choose to roll back the clock.
• "Among my hopes for the coming years is to develop a program in 'the business of law'...," the Dean concludes.
  • May I suggest that program—which is devoutly to be desired, and for which I hereby volunteer to participate in its development and/or realization—begin with a realistic look at the economics of BigLaw today where, for example, the implication of a $160,000/year starting salary means an all-in cost for a first-year associate of about half a million dollars?
  • It must also begin with a realistic view of the international landscape in which BigLaw  operates.  As the Dean himself says in today's New York Times, "Globalization means you have to better prepare lawyers to work in a global context."   What meaning can "a global context" possibly have if not that firms must match their global clients in scope and capacity?
  • Finally, what can "professionalism"  and "preserving the qualities that attracted so many of us to the study of law in the first place" (from the Dean's concluding sentence) mean if not accompanied by the hard, thoughtful, time-consuming, dedicated, demanding work required to attain the heights of the profession—work for which there is no substitute or shortcut?

Further, "the business of law" program, and everyone reading this column, should recognize the Dean's views are far from  universal:  So far from universal that, in my experience, he is in a distinct minority. 

Virtually everyone I talk to and meet with, whether they admit it out loud or not, celebrates the larger canvas on which firms operate today, is engaged as never before in the challenges and opportunities of management, and is pedaling as fast as they can to figure out the contours of the 21st Century legal industry and position their firms accordingly.  I for one cannot imagine a more exciting period than today to be engaged in "an inquiry into the economics of law firms."

Far from "powerless to resist the stifling market forces that drive their decisions," the people I know embrace the market and in fact try to get ahead of it.   As Charles De Gaulle famously reminded us, "it's a mistake to be on the wrong side of history."  And as Adam Smith would doubtless adapt it today, "it's a big mistake to be on the wrong side of market forces."

But this debate concerns so much more than the ineluctability of market forces:  It concerns aspiration, vision, drive, and, yes, client service. 

Simply put, globalizing firms are not wrong.   They are aspiring to serve their clients, whose needs are morphing in the Flat World we now know we inhabit.  I just remarked that it's a "mistake" to be on the wrong side of trends in one's world.  But in this case, to fail—as the Dean would evidently have us do on purpose—to strive to serve our changing and globalizing clients' highest-order legal needs would be worse than a mistake.  It would be a moral, a professional, and only last an economic, failure.

Update 2 November:

I sent the Dean a note linking to the article within a few hours of publishing it and received the following in reply, which I offered to publish and he gave me permission to do:

Hi Bruce:

I had already seen the blog and considered writing you.  So I'm glad you reached out.  I think you misunderstood the import of my letter and the issues I was trying to raise.  I am not opposed to the globalization of legal practice.  Nor am I a Luddite who wants to preserve or restore some lost, imagined golden age.  I am, however, acutely conscious of the rising dissatisfaction felt by so many lawyers, and I see the shifting patterns in what our graduates do and, more importantly, aspire to do.  I wanted to raise these issues to see whether there are ways to continue operating in a modern global economic environment without at the same time having to sacrifice so many of the great qualities and virtues of practicing law.  Change has happened very rapidly in our profession.  As recently as 20 years ago, a 200 lawyer firm was considered huge; today it's small.  Expected billable hours have gone from 1600 to 2200 at the top firms in the same period.  Legal practice needs to serve clients working in a multinational context in a world where everything is more specialized and so the demands on lawyers are greater.  But can we find ways to do that while making the experience better for individual lawyers?  The opening point in the letter:  that despite these enormous changes, the basic model remains the same--that our profession has adapted to these changes by, in effect, becoming the traditional model on steroids---is not meant as a call for the legal professsion to turn its back on change.  On the contrary, it's meant as a call to change more:  to find different and better ways to adapt.

Of course I don't know enough to say what those should be on the ground.  I am, however, privy to some really interesting efforts and experiments underway, things like Axiom Legal Services (which is discussed in the issue) and a variety of others.  We want to start exploring some of these models.

The law school is changing in response to many of the same pressures.  Only the first year will remain as it was, while the second and third years will become very different experiences to meet the needs of today's profession.  Can the profession do the same, and can we in the academy help figure out how?  Those are the sorts of questions my letter intended to raise.

Best,

Larry

As always, I am delighted to hear from readers—especially those I identify by name!—and I thank the Dean for contributing to this discussion.

On a separate note, it has been a matter of no small interest to me that I have gotten more emails, and even the odd phone call, in response to this column than to any other in recent memory.  And the reaction has been without exception extremely positive, typically along the lines of, "Finally somebody said what I've always been thinking."  In at least one AmLaw 25 firm, the managing partner circulated this column to all of his partners and reports that "many wrote back with comments that basically counted as 'wow.'"

Four Leaders On The State of the Profession--Make That, "the Industry"

Last week I was able to attend a panel discussion sponsored by ALM Events on "Developing the Next Generation of Law Firm Leaders." Moderated by Aric Press, the panelists were nothing if not qualified to speak.   They were:

• A.B. Culvahouse, Jr., Chair of O'Melveny & Myers
• Peter Kalis, Chairman and Global Managing Partner of K&L/Gates
• Barton Winokur, Chairman and CEO of Dechert, and
• Alfred Youngwood, Chair of the firm and of the Management Committee of Paul Weiss.

Their remarks about the state of our profession and our industry were as informed, articulate, and divergent as any I've heard in the space of a single hour within recent memory.  Herewith your scribe's attempt at recounting the highlights (along with some editorial comment appended).  In the order in which they spoke:

Winokur

"There are certain characteristics of lawyers which do not lend themselves to leadership." 

A few years ago Dechert hired a consulting firm (unidentified) to interview 45—50 partners on a variety of topics surrounding leadership, including their failures and successes in that area in order to determine perceived commonalities among high- and low-performing "leaders."  Bart observed that there are some characteristics which cannot be changed, or learned, such as integrity, but that there are others which can be learned, such as being comfortable with and having strong instincts about personal interrelationships.

The second part of the consultants' engagement consisted of three 3-day weekend workshops offering a cohort of tests and some "360" reviews.  In the end, 16 people evaluated each of the leadership candidates on 72 separate characteristics, such as "ability to listen."  It should come as no surprise that essentially everyone (they're lawyers, after all) ranked in the bottom 5% of the population in terms of sociability.  If you have to deal with people as a leader, this can pose a problem.

Nevertheless, Bart reports, one of the more marginal performers, upon discovering these results, immediately realized why they had felt "outside their comfort zone 95% of the time" and was able to adapt and even to capitalize upon that understanding, becoming one of the firm's star performers subsequently.

Kalis

"Law is a very mature profession and a very immature industry." [Editor's Note:  I fully intend to steal that phrase, albeit with due attribution, many times to come.]

"We are engulfed in the indicia of that immaturity."  For example:

• We are running several-hundred million dollar a year enterprises capitalized by passing a hat among our friends.
• Consultants to the industry are immature and rely more on anecdote than empiricism.
• [With a nod towards Aric Press, editor-in-chief of The American Lawyer], the most publicized financial metric dominating our industry is divorced from an understanding of how firms operate, is divorced from generally accepted accounting principles, is not reported consistently or with accuracy, and reveals little or nothing about the ongoing financial and economic well-being of firms.
• We look for our leadership of these firms to the "last man standing" principle, rather than looking for the best possible leader within (or outside!) the industry.  The leader of a firm must be, for starters:
  • an equity not an income partner
  • of a certain age—not too young and not too old
  • the leader or a key player within only some specific practice groups
  • etc.
• We do not do what other firms outside law do when they need a new CEO or Chairman, which is to look well outside the firm—including going up to Fairfield, Connecticut, to steal a Vice President from GE. 
• Leaders in our industry identify themselves because the opportunities to lead are ubiquitous and dispersed, from hiring, evaluations, talent development, leading offices or practice areas, etc.—and many of these roles are open, at least in cabined form, to associates as well.
• Law firms should think of themselves as laboratories for leadership development.
• The hegemony of business school thinking "is one of the most pernicious intellectual straitjackets of the 20th and now of the 21st Centuries.  It is simply beyond false that business schools teach collaboration and law schools do not.  Law school is the definitive collaborative and teamwork training ground.  Imagine the experience of getting out a volunteer-staffed Law Review, in the context of huge-ego professors and unrelenting deadlines."
• The best way to identify leaders is to put them in a position to fail, and preferably to fail spectacularly, with blood on the floor (ideally their own).  And then to see whether they can recover and win back trust of their colleagues.

Culvahouse

More leaders can be made than are born.

When he became Chair of O'Melveny in 2001 he hired McKinsey to undertake a strategic review of the firm, and they recommended (and O'Melveny followed) that the firm be reorganized away from having the most powerful or, conversely, the most disposable, partners in charge.

Starting next year he will implement the "No 2 Jobs Rule," which means that no partner can have two jobs:  If you're office manager or on a key committee, etc., you can play one and only one role.  This is intended to end the Casablanca police inspector's famous fall-back of "round up the usual suspects."  In other words, spread opportunities for leadership more widely. 

Practice Group Leaders are "the point of the spear," and not office managers.  If office managers are on top, they put the wrong teams out there.  If PGL's are on top, they put collaborative (read: the right) teams out there.

O'Melveny has now contracted with the Kellogg School of Management at Northwestern to create the O'Melveny & Myers Executive Leadership forum, consisting of (among other things) week-long programs for PGL's.   Another component will encourage risk-taking and "a bias for action." 

Succession planning? 

Start late.  There is of course planned and unplanned successions, but don't start planned succession planning too early.  Yes, "lawyers like the known," and therefore there's always anxiety over succession.  But don't succumb to it.

Youngwood

Al will retire at the end of 2008 and started more than three years ago to pick a group from which his successor would be chosen.  It's now down to two or three people.

At Paul Weiss, there's a tradition of contested elections for almost everything.  And in accord with that tradition, there is no nominating committee.

If some of the other firms are "immature," in a business sense, "then Paul Weiss is a very immature firm."  [Laughter.] 

In terms of compensation, there is no "billing" partner, no "origination" partner, and essentially a tightly fixed lockstep for the first eight years of partnership; after that, the lockstep remains all but fixed with just very tiny differences thereafter based on legal skill and contributions to the partnership.

85% of the partners at the firm are home-grown and 85% of the partners are resident in New York.

There are no plans to open additional offices, although Shanghai remains a possibility.

The firm has had one weekend retreat in eight years, which was at a resort, and partners complained that they couldn't go home for the evening.  Added Alfred drily:  "It will probably be another 8 years before we have a retreat."

Question for the Panel:  Should Managing Partners Also Have an Active Practice?

Al:  If you have a global firm (a category into which he notably does not place Paul Weiss), it's probably difficult to have any practice.  But he reports having spent 600 to 800 hours last year practicing, and thinks there is a "large value to that" because it connects you to your partners' everyday concerns.

Bart:  I like to keep my hand in, but it can be difficult.  He'd like to practice more if he could "because it's fun."

A.B.:  I think it's important for maintaining the respect of one's partners to keep an active practice going, even if it's far far less than full-time.  "Besides, your clients are far more appreciative of what you do for them than your partners ever are."

Pete:  Aside from himself, K&L Gates also has a Global Development Partner and a Global Integration Partner; all three are full-time.  He doesn't realistically see how it could be otherwise, and he also notes that he does not believe that the respect one has earned as an impeccable practitioner "is a wasting or perishable asset; it's an enduring asset."

Question for the Panel:  What Will Be the Key Challenge of the Next 5, 10, or 15 Years?

A.B.:  We need to "live in the external world," putting our best talent in front of the client community and not focusing on internal debates.

Pete:  The tremendously powerful centrifugal forces at loose in the profession must be resisted by even more powerful efforts to create a centripetal equilibrium.  There are also two romantic notions of "professionalism" abroad, one of which is arrant nonsense and the other of which is to embraced as an inspiration:

• The hokum romantic notion was most recently expressed by Stanford Law School's Dean Larry Kramer (as picked up on the WSJ Law Blog) who lamented:  "Twenty years ago, most lawyers would have scoffed at the idea that profitability, much less profits-per-partner, should be the measure of success and prestige. Yet that is where we are. Law firms are run like businesses by managing partners and committees whose time is almost wholly occupied with, well, managing."
  He could not be more wrong; this is pathetic whining posing as analysis.
• But the admirable side of the profession is embodied, for example, in former Republican Attorney Generals of the US testifying recently before Congress that the President cannot claim executive powers that exceed  constitutional bounds, and who insist that "the rule of law" has meaning and teeth.  This stiff-spined and consequences-be-damned integrity is the antithesis, by the way, of what some "captive" practitioners do to stay in a client's good graces by nodding vigorously that a planned transaction has their oracular legal blessing even if it runs right up to ethical boundaries and, if it does not actually cross those boundaries, would be the type of arrangement one could never live down were it to appear on the proverbial front page of The New York Times.

Bart:  "Alignment" will be the challenge.  By that he means getting people on board with the firm's vision for its future.  Separately, he notes perhaps an even bigger threat, which is the "clear progressive breakdown of trust that used to exist between lawyers, firms, and clients.  There are some examples of where that trust is intact, but there are many many more examples of where that trust has broken down."

Alfred:  "I have a less cosmic vision. For me, the challenge for the firm will be how, in a more inter-connected world, we can remain the true, classic, law firm partnership we have always been.  I noted, for example, that our partner compensation system was in place when I became a partner 37 years ago, and it will remain in place when I leave." 

Now, how do you view these observations?

I'll give you the "Adam Smith, Esq." view, at the risk of misinterpreting or traducing what each of our four intimate observers really intended:

• A.B.:  Firms can be managed, but only up to a point.  Leadership is ineffable, but the right conditions (such as "no 2 jobs") can be put in place to cultivate its emergence.
• Bart:  Leaders can be made.  Systems can be effective.  People and firms can change.
• Alfred:  This I hold true above all else:  It ain't broke.
• Pete:  It's past time to begin emulating the grown-ups.

A Victory for Common Sense (& Freshfields)

From the TimesOnline (UK):

"Peter Bloxham, the former head of restructuring at Freshfields Bruckhaus Deringer, has lost his landmark £4.5 million age discrimination claim against the elite City law firm."

This was a long-awaited and closely watched decision, and Bloxham appears to have lost rather resoundingly:  Not only was the Tribunal unanimous in its ruling, it went out of its way to say that Freshfields' policies laid out in its revised pension plan—which Bloxham was challenging as discriminatory—"not merely met" but "comfortably passed" the crucial test of whether they were (under the statute in question) "a proportionate means of achieving a legitimate aim."

I'll explain the slightly recondite circumstances of Bloxham's claim, and the UK law in question, but the key takeaway is that this is a refreshing and extremely welcome injection of common sense into an area of law hitherto quite uncertain. 

Here's the background: 

Under Freshfields' previous pension plan, partners with 20 years as such became entitled to a lifetime annuity equal to 10 points on the firm's lockstep.  Importantly, this liability was "unfunded," meaning it was borne by partners still at the firm.  Although theoretically open-ended, the liability was capped at 10% of total profits, a cap which projections said would be reached by 2018.

Now, a 10% haircut on total profits is material in anyone's eyes, and would increasingly be seen as an albatross by aspiring partners as the burden became heavier.  This is precisely the type of issue that should occupy the attention of senior firm management.

So, in 2006 Freshfields revised its pension plan to reduce future pensions for partners who were then younger than 55—as was Bloxham.  (Those 55 or over by April 30, 2006 were entitled to a full pension for life under the terms of the previous plan.)   Bloxham could choose either to retire at once with 80% of a full pension, for life, or remain past age 55 at which point he'd only be entitled to a much less generous pension for 25 years. 

He claimed that the amended plan essentially "forced" him to retire and furthermore that he had not been offered a lucrative consultancy package as an alternative to leaving.  Freshfields' defense was that: (a) no one was "forcing" him to retire or to do anything else; (b) he had so vehemently scoffed at the consultancy package that making a formal offer of it would be a nullity; and (c) most importantly, the steps taken to revise the pension plan's impact on future earnings were measured and reasonable.

Prior to the new age discrimination rules taking effect in October 2006, the UK had no laws specifically addressing age discrimination.  The  fascinating aspect of the new law—unlike, sad to say, US age discrimination law—is that age discrimination is permitted (technically, it's a defense to a charge of discrimination) so long as the discriminatory policy in question was "a proportionate means of achieving a legitimate aim."

The contours of what precisely that key phrase means are, of course, scarcely self-evident, and this is the first ruling on the question in a matter involving partnerships.   More important for Freshfields even than its vindication in the Bloxham matter is that there are commonly believed to be a large number of otherwise similarly-affected partners waiting in the wings, ready to sue, had Bloxham prevailed.  (Bloxham has the right to appeal, and many expect he shall.)

Here's some of the reaction to the decision courtesy of Legal Week:

"Commenting on the ruling, Ronnie Fox, employment specialist at boutique firm Fox, said: 'There will be a lot of relieved senior partners around. This is an extensive case to judge, and people will be looking at it for guidance of a general nature as it is the first real test of the regulations.'

"Farrer & Co. employment partner William Dawson said: 'That he was treated differently on the grounds of age was not the issue -- the question was whether they could justify it.  This is a great result for Freshfields, and it is the result I was hoping for. If they had come out with a different result it would have created difficulties for the profession and for all partnerships.'

[...]

"In a statement, Freshfields' joint senior partner, Guy Morton, said: 'It is a pity that this misguided claim was ever brought to the tribunal. We are pleased that the tribunal has recognised that both the reforms to our partner pension scheme and the procedures through which they were adopted were fair.'"

My own reaction?  As noted, an eminently welcome breath of common sense and fresh air into the hothouse environment of age discrimination litigation. 

Understand, of course, that discrimination of any form is devoutly to be eschewed—and that there's on the whole not much more of interest to say on the matter.  (I'm reminded of "silent" Calvin Coolidge who, when asked his views of sin on leaving church one Sunday, replied in total:  "I'm agin it.")

The trouble with anti-discrimination as a principle is that it's a knife that can cut far far too broadly.  Obviously, we "discriminate" all the time for perfectly laudable purposes when we extend job offers to students high in their graduating classes and not to those further down, when we promote high-performing associates to partner and not their disappointing brethren, and, for that matter, when we pick Olympic team members or create best-selling authors.

The UK law comes with the recognition that not all discrimination is per se condemnable or unjustifiable, an insight stunning in its simplicity and dismaying in its lack of statutory US counterpart.  While "a proportionate means of achieving a legitimate aim" may not qualify as lapidary prose, we all have an intuitive grasp of what it's driving at.

And, just as the Constitution is famously not a suicide pact, so anti-discrimination laws must not become destroyers of enterprise value or shackles upon managerial judgment and discretion.

We Pay Our Associates The Going Rate: Yes, No, N/A

Some of you may have seen the piece that ran in The Recorder about 10 days ago with the attention-getting headline, "In Salary Twist, Firm Pays More--and Less."  (It was also picked up by the WSJ's Law Blog, as the "Associate Compensation Story of the Day.")

The story profiles the ingenious associate compensation policies of Duval & Stachenfeld, a 50-lawyer New York based firm.  Other firms may well have tried such unorthodox policies before, but I'm unaware of any other firms of significance using them today.  Here's what they do:

• First-year's start at $60,000 (and no, I did not inadvertently drop a leading "1") and are placed in the two-year long "opportunity associate" track;
• After nine months, they go to $80,000 and then get $10,000 raises semi-annually.  No later than the end of their second year, but sometimes as early as at the end of their first year, they are promoted to the "full associate" track where the firm pays them the going market rate.  (The "going market rate" is currently determined by what Cravath is paying—plus $10,000 as a sweetener.)
• Assuming mutual satisfaction all around, they stay on the full associate track for the duration, until eligibility for partnership in their 7th to 9th year, with the 8th year being the expectation.

What's going on here?

While the Recorder's article lays out the basic parameters—which I found deeply intriguing, inventive, and potentially mold-breaking—when I read through the comments to the WSJ's Law Blog piece, which are filled with what borders on vituperation (samples follow), I found myself compelled to learn more on my own, and so I contacted Bruce Stachenfeld, who was gracious enough to give me more background on the plan. 

Full disclosure:  Bruce and I overlapped for a few years in the 1980's when we were both associates at the late Shea & Gould, but we had not been in touch since and, aside from some banter about what really caused the demise of that wonderful firm, that circumstance has affected the content of this piece not one syllable.

First, the promised samples of vituperative comments:

• Sounds like indentured servitude to me
• Sounds like a major bait and switch
• Partner greed masquerading as concern for clients
• Warning to associates! 90% of the firm’s associates are new grads. THEY DON’T HAVE ANY SENIOR ASSOCIATES. Based on their demographic data, they use you for a few years and fire you before giving you the raise
  
  But we have a few supporters:
  
  
• From my perspective, there is no downside. The starting pay is more than what I’ll make at a small firm, and if I make it to the third year I get paid as much as a Cravath associate.
• I know a lot about this firm having dealt with them frequently. [...]. It ends up being a win-win even for the associates that don’t “make it” - the training and reputation of the quality of this firm’s work enabled each and every one of them to get jobs in top-tier firms after getting 1-2 years experience at this firm. It actually is a system that works great for the associates, clients and partners - in almost all cases, everybody wins.

When I spoke with Bruce, I asked him where the plan came from, how it was working, how clients have reacted, and what the motivation for going off the conventional reservation was.  Herewith a distillation of our conversation.

They started the plan in 2003 "as an experiment."  But it "has worked out incredibly superbly."  Here are the statistics:

• Class of 2003 (the first year it was in effect):  Hired 5 associates; 4 were promoted and one left
• Class of 2004: Hired 9 associates; 4 were promoted and 5 left
• 2005: Hired 4; 2 were promoted and 2 left
• 2006 & 2007:  Still in the program; too early to say.
• Overall, of the 9 promoted from "opportunity associate" to full associate, 8 are still at the firm and one left post-promotion.

These numbers are no worse, and arguably better than the average attrition rates across the AmLaw 100.  The most widely publicized statistic on that issue (courtesy of NALP) is that 62% of starting associates are gone by the end of their fourth year.   Perhaps more to the point, Bruce repeats that if you track only associates who leave after the initial two-year period, they have lost only one.  He believes the firm has more mid-level and senior associates, proportionately, than the average firm.  Here's the distribution:

• 7th year: 1
• 6th year: 1
• 5th year: 1
• 4th year: 2
• 3rd year: 4
• 2nd year: 2

And out of a total of 25 associates currently at the firm, 11 have graduated to full associate and 14 are still "opportunity associates."  (I asked where that phrase came from, and he said that it reflected the thinking that the program offered opportunity both to the junior associates and to the firm.)

What do clients think?  "Those that know about it are extremely positive.  But understand, this is not meant to be an exercise in morality, but a business tool. We don't have to bill out junior associates at stratospheric rates to cover their costs and so clients  don't have to pay for relatively inexperienced lawyers.  On the other hand, by the  time lawyers are in their third to fifth years and above, they're providing truly valuable service and that's when clients benefit most.  We chose to focus our money on associates who matter most to clients."

How do you recruit?  What do you tell students?  Bruce replied that they generally go to about ten law schools and "we look for people who just barely missed making the cut at Skadden.  We look for the most highly qualified people we can find, but still, face facts, you never can know how good a lawyer someone is going to be until you start working with them."  Bruce became animated, telling me, "Look, historically these are not second class people but incredibly good.  Clients like them; they're eager; they work hard; they give it their best shot."

And how many actually make it through to partnership?  "We tell them that if they're still here in the fifth year that partnership is theirs to lose, not theirs to win.  And the proof of that is that of the ten equity partners in the firm, three rose through the associate ranks. In the  past five years, not a single person who's come up for equity partner has been passed over; prior to five years ago one associate left the firm shortly before being considered for partnership."

What else would you like to tell me?  What else should people know about this model?

"We've actually started something new; we're just launching it.  We call it our 'major/minor' practice group focus.  We want every associate to have a major practice group, where they'll spend 90% of their time, but also a minor practice group, for 10% of their time.  Look, law is a cyclical business, so if you're 90% real estate and let's say there's a slump, maybe you can pick up on your 10% bankruptcy practice and fill the gap.  It's just an experiment, again, but so far we like the way it's shaping up."

And finally, I ask why they embarked on this experiment to begin with.

"Our goal is simply to build one of the greatest law firms in the world.  I mean it! 

"Skadden is one of the greatest law firms in the world, but their business model is different than ours.  Their model (as I understand it) presumes that associates will start there and work for a few years and likely move on after having received excellent training.  They don't really expect that a significant percentage of starting associates will become partners.  It's a win/win for the associates, who get to put Skadden on their resume, and Skadden, which gets to hire plenty of star associates.

"Our model is different.  We hire people expecting (and hoping) that they will be qualified, and want, to stay for the long term.  In order for us to succeed with this model we need to treat our people with absolute respect, integrity and total honesty.  If we don’t do that then, quite simply, they will quit and the whole thing won’t work. 

"We try to be scrupulously honest with everyone about their prospects, their performance and how they are doing.  It just doesn’t work any other way."

Bottom line:  I think they've hit upon an ingenious way for the firm to "test-drive" starting associates at minimal risk and without alienating clients with head-turning salaries or billing rates.  To the charge that associates are being exploited I would reply on the moral plane that, in the larger scheme of a 40-year career, the "sacrifice" entailed is minimal weighed against the potential opportunity opened and, on the economic plane, that since by hypothesis Duval & Stachenfeld is drawing from the pool of law school graduates who do not have BigLaw offers, their market alternatives are limited and this may well be a creative way of providing a highly attractive option. 

In short, more creative thinking like this may help show the way towards escape routes from the increasingly brittle Cravath System that we've been living with for decades—under sustained and increasing assault from the forces of "work/life balance," Gen Y and Millenials, women who actually might contemplate non-childless marriages, and the calls for revolt against the tyranny of the billable hour.

I'd like to bookend the Duval & Stachenfeld story with another one from Legal Times discussing the struggles of Washington, DC firms over whether to match the "Simpson Thacher bump" of first-year pay to $160K earlier this year.   Its premise is that, startled as DC firms might initially have been by Simpson Thacher's hostile initiative, they have now recovered their bearings and fallen into step at the $160K level. 

More than six months on, the article supports my belief that the bump was an attempt to put increasing pressure on firms below the top-most tier (see "What does the great associate salary spike really mean?")

"New York firms have to be frustrated," says the managing partner of an international firm based in Washington. "There’s an attempt on the part of the Simpson Thachers of the world to divide the industry into first class and second class. But no one willingly accepts the characterization of being second class."

The raise had nothing to do with competition among top New York firms:  This was not Simpson  Thacher sticking its thumb in the eye of Davis Polk or Cravath.  Rather, it was an attempt to draw a line in the sand between  firms such as those and firms which will eventually decide that enough is enough and refuse to call the last raise:

"There’s no other rational explanation to what they’re doing other than trying to find the number where people start to drop out,' says the managing partner of a Washington-based firm in the AmLaw 100. 'And once people drop out of the horse race, there’s going to be a smaller number of competitors for the best law students.'"

Are we in, then, for another round of escalation?  Of course; the only questions of interest are when and by how much.  Aggravating the problem (if you're not a New York "bulge bracket" firm, at least) is a fundamental supply/demand imbalance.  AmLaw 200 firms hire about 10,000 associates every year, or fully one-quarter of the 40,000 who graduate from ABA-accredited law schools. Of necessity, firms are reaching farther down into the pool, while at the same time firms that insist on limiting themselves to the top X% from the top Y schools have no choice but to pay top dollar. 

The real crunch comes for firms at about the $1-million/year profit per partner level.  At that level, a junior partner is probably making little more than a senior associate at New York scale.   The economics of the associate/partner dichotomy, in other words, are showing severe stress.

Why does this matter?  After all, the junior partner is still making more than when he/she was an associate, and isn't the trajectory going to be ever upward?  Not so fast.  While that's true within the four walls of the firm in question, there's an enormous and increasingly transparent lateral marketplace out there.  As the cost structure of firms in the $1-million PPP range is pushed relentlessly upwards, firms with superior financials are increasingly attractive to lawyers who can bring business along with them.  And this, Dear Reader, is where the vicious "run on the bank" cycle can begin to kick in:

• Partners with meaningful books of business begin to seek greener pastures where they'll be recognized for it;
• Depleting the firm's revenue with their departures;
• Causing remaining clients to wonder what's going on and perhaps begin re-examining their relationships with the firm;
• Further eroding profitability;
• Making the position of most of the remaining partners—and essentially all of the associates—more tenuous and punching morale in the stomach;
• Leading, potentially, to the catastrophic death-spiral which ends in only the least marketable, least mobile lawyers hanging on for dear life.

It can happen with shocking rapidity.

And yet, and yet:  Few things are harder in life than to admit one isn't prepared to keep up with the creme de la creme.  Not only is it emotionally and professionally traumatic, one quite rationally fears the repercussions from the oh-so-public admission.  

Studies that videotape dogs with a sore paw or minor joint ailment consistently show that in the presence of people and other dogs, the ailment is gamely concealed and the dog acts as if all's right with the world; but as soon as the room is empty, the ailment is attended to and the affected limb visibly favored.  In other words, it's one thing to be hurting; it's altogether different to be hurting in public.

But the "hurt" inflicted by the steadily rising New York scale will, at some point, cause firms to drop off the escalator.  Whether they do so before, or after, they put themselves at risk of a run on the bank is for them to decide.

The associate salary spike wars are not over; a temporary truce has merely been called.

Prepare for the segmentation to accelerate.

A First for "Adam Smith, Esq."

Being quoted in both The New York Times ("When $1,000 an Hour Is Not Enough," by David Lat of Above The Law) and The Wall Street Journal (Peter Lattman at the Law Blog picking up the NYT story), in "Is The 'Premium Party' Over?"—on the same day.

Mandatory Retirement: Pro or Con?

My firm does/does not have a mandatory retirement policy.  I do/do not believe we should have one. 

Discuss.

This comes up because of the near-even split in the industry between firms that have such policies and those that don 't—57% of all firms with more than 100 lawyers do, and 43% don't, according to Altman-Weil—as noted in "Desperately Seeking Seniors" in The American Lawyer.   

Coincidentally, the New York State Bar recently issued a report urging firms to repeal or not adopt these policies, and is now asking individual law firms to pledge to abide by its principles.  (The ABA has also opposed mandatory retirement policies.)

Let's hear the case for these policies:

• Senior partners "have been making money for a long time, and for the young people to make more, the old people need to go," according to James Matthews III, a lawyer at Fox Rothschild who represents law firms in labor and employment matters.
• Younger partners can't ascend to leadership until older partners are gone, and it's important that younger leaders take over.
  • "'Mandatory retirement allows a natural succession to take place,' says Richard Davis, 61, a partner at Weil, Gotshal & Manges. At his firm, partners retire at 68, with a few exceptions made for so-called firm grandfathers who led Weil's early development, like Ira Millstein and Harvey Miller."
• Older partners who know they're facing sunset provisions will be more likely to share their clients with younger partners and enable smooth transitions.
• In lockstep firms, if older partners don't perform on par with their younger (but top-of-lockstep) peers, moderate to severe economic wind-drag can be imposed.
• Finally, mandatory retirement helps avoid uncomfortable conversations about declining performance.

There's the for side.  Here's the against side:

• Senior lawyers who don't want to let go of clients won't and don't have to.  This scarcely smooths the transition.  Indeed, this seems to have been the experience of Pillsbury Winthrop, which just this year ended its "out at 65" policy.  "Instead, Pillsbury will design a succession plan for each partner. [Firm chair James] Rishwain hopes that by inviting seniors to help set the terms of their departures, they will be more committed to transitioning clients smoothly."
• And what if senior partners are still profitable?  In that case, kicking them out is "just lunacy," says Robert Link, Chair of Cadwalader.  A man after my own heart, Link says that "economic arguments in favor of age caps are bogus."  The assumption that seniors must leave to make way for younger stars assumes that revenues and profitability are flat.  As Link observes, "As long as a firm is growing, it should be able to pay the lawyers driving that growth, be they 45 or 75."
• Finally, whence the assumption that age = unproductive?  You may be physically more likely to bill 3,000 hours/year when you're 40 than when you're 70, but sight unseen I'd take the Rolodex of the 70-year-old over the 40-year-old's on a dare.   Moreover, are we such a youth-obsessed society that we've devalued perspective, wisdom, and the virtue of the long view?

You may be ready, at this point, to guess where I come out on this.

First, this is none of the bar associations' business.  Last time I checked, their job was to enforce professional standards (which is different from enforcing cartels), and to encourage the profession, in general, to aspirational goals such as more pro bono work, defense of the indigent and representation of the impoverished, participation in public service, continuing legal education, and, most broadly, promoting the rule of law. (See the footnote* for the full text of the "ABA Mission & Association Goals".)

I do not see, in that list of (mostly) admirables, any reference to overseeing matters of internal firm governance, much less micro-managing and second-guessing issues such as mandatory retirement policies.   What new omniscience has infected them?

Second, if the issue is under-performing, you need to deal with that outside of the pretext of age.  Underperformers need to be counseled, cajoled, submitted to moral suasion, and ultimately excused, be they 25, 45, or 75. 

Third, if the question is passing clients along, this should come naturally with the territory and shouldn't require the blunt instrument of enforced retirement.  In the course of any typical client engagement, the firm will marshal an array of talent, bringing to bear promising associates, junior and mid-level partners experienced in "keeping the trains running on time" and getting the matter handled in a timely and utterly competent fashion, and lastly the sagacious seniors providing overall strategic direction and key insights.  Clients expect to be exposed to this full range talents; lawyers expect to provide it.  Burying everyone save the senior-most member of the team in the background is not only ineffective, clients will see it as bordering on the odd.

Finally, as to the "avoiding difficult conversations" argument?  Get over yourself; and do so in a big hurry.  That's what you're paid for.  Or, as a friend likes to say, "there's a reason they call it work."   Hanging one's hat on this should be the last refuge of a coward.

But perhaps the most important dimension of mandatory retirement is that it undercuts a dimension I've become more attuned to over time:  Culture.

We all speak in reverential tones of the value of our firm's culture, but it is not transmitted by osmosis or through WiFi in the reception area and conference rooms.  The DNA of your firm's culture resides most powerfully in its most senior members. Treasure that.  Value that. Hand that down.  Respect your elders to take a critical role in making it happen.

Or, to paraphrase Benjamin Franklin about our young Republic's democracy, "You have a culture.  If you can keep it."

*The "ABA Mission and Assocation Goals" follow, in full:

The following mission statement and Association goals were adopted by the House of Delegates:

ABA Mission

The Mission of the American Bar Association is to be the national representative of the legal profession, serving the public and the profession by promoting justice, professional excellence and respect for the law.
Association Goals

Goal I
To promote improvements in the American system of justice.
Goal II
To promote meaningful access to legal representation and the American system of justice for all persons regardless of their economic or social condition.
Goal III
To provide ongoing leadership in improving the law to serve the changing needs of society.
Goal IV
To increase public understanding of and respect for the law, the legal process, and the role of the legal profession.
Goal V
To achieve the highest standards of professionalism, competence and ethical conduct.
Goal VI
To serve as the national representative of the legal profession.
Goal VII
To provide benefits, programs and services which promote professional growth and enhance the quality of life of the members.
Goal VIII
To advance the rule of law in the world.
Goal IX
To promote full and equal participation in the legal profession by minorities, women and persons with disabilities.
Goal X
To preserve and enhance the ideals of the legal profession as a common calling and its dedication to public service.
Goal XI
To preserve the independence of the legal profession and the judiciary as fundamental to a free society.

If you see anything in there about second-guessing major policies of firm management, let me know. 

The Bleak/Rich Job Market for Law Students

If it's in The Wall Street Journal, it has to matter (even if it doesn't, if you follow my meaning). 

So it's probably incumbent on us to offer, briefly, our thoughts on the front-page story this morning, "Hard Case:  Job Market Wanes for US Lawyers," reporting that for the great majority of law school graduates unable to land jobs with BigLaw, the prospects are bleak.  Consider:

"A slack in demand appears to be part of the problem. The legal sector, after more than tripling in inflation-adjusted growth between 1970 and 1987, has grown at an average annual inflation-adjusted rate of 1.2% since 1988, or less than half as fast as the broader economy."

And there's more bad news to spread around:

• New-JD output is growing:  In 2005-2006, 43,883 JD's were awarded, up nearly 16% from 37,909 in 2001-2002.
• There are more ABA-accredited US law schools:  196 today, up 11% since  1995.
• Student loan overhangs are growing, now averaging about $55,000 for graduates of public law schools and $85,000 for private school grads.
• For a variety of reasons (some arguably laudable, such as tort reform), solo and small-firm lawyer income has been declining in real terms for a decade or more.
• According to ABA data, there was one lawyer for every 572 Americans in 1971 but one for every 264 people by 2000.

The WSJ's Law Blog also has a companion story, and the overall tenor of the comments is a schizophrenic mix of jubilation and gratitude that the story is finally being told, contrasted with some genuine tales of disillusion and even misery.  Read them at your peril.

But to me the real story is that there's a BigLaw market and there's a non-BigLaw market.  They are two separate markets, bifurcated, that do not speak to one another.  More precisely, candidates for the first vs. the second local maximum on the curve below are drawn from entirely separate cohorts.

This is from the Empirical Legal Studies site (courtesy of my friend Prof. Bill Henderson) and shows the distribution of 22,665 salaries of full-time employed law school graduates as tracked by NALP.  The first local maximum represents about 22% of all reported salaries, in the $40-$50,000 range; the second local maximum reflects another 17% of reported salaries in the $135-$145,000 range (remember, this is 2006 data, so it predates the $160K bump.)

That is not to say law schools couldn’t do a better job of actually disclosing what happens to their graduates, which is what the front-page WSJ article expends a lot of ink on.

That, in fact, is in line with the philosophy of the US securities laws (which I love, in case you didn't know—at least pre-Sarbanes-Oxley):  “You can do anything—so long as you disclose it.”

Your Most Pressing Strategic Issues--According to You

The annual "Adam Smith, Esq." Reader Survey is actively in progress, and I sincerely urge those of you who haven't taken the two to three minutes it takes to complete it to do so right now. 

The point of the survey?  Two-fold:  I want to learn more about you, so as to better tailor the content of the site to your interests, and you get to tell me both what recommendations you'd offer me and, perhaps more importantly from your perspective, what the most pressing/important strategic, business, or financial issue facing you or your firm is.  Let your voice be heard; take the survey now.

Meanwhile, an interim report on what we've heard on precisely that last question, which reads verbatim thus:  "The most pressing/frustrating strategic, financial, or business issue facing me/my firm is."  Herewith follows a distillation of what you've been telling me.

Associate retention is a tremendous challenge for many of you.  Comments include (all exact quotes):

• associate compensation:  lockstep or merit?
• the position of associates in BigLaw, of course
• insane associate salaries
• and many many others who just said "associate retention" and left it at that.

This has been an issue I've devoted extensive—but perhaps still insufficient—attention to on "Adam Smith, Esq.," and I'll vow to do even more about it.  Fair warning:  I have no snappy answers on this one.  To a large extent we are facing a collision between an irresistible force and an immovable object whose constituent components are attitudinal, generational, and financial, and which is perhaps not susceptible of an enduring resolution absent a re-examination of underlying business models.   In short, this has been long in gestation and may be long in solution.

The War for Talent  is an ongoing challenge, perhaps more pressing now than ever.  Comments included "Finding and attracting top-level talent to a small boutique firm," and "attracting talent at the salary levels our firm pays."

Knowledge Management was mentioned by a large number of you, as something that firms have to do well but that very few in fact are managing to accomplish.  Technology and upgrades of same were a close second in this area.

Business development and marketing are perennial points of pain, and "some things never change."   The only fault with the bromide that "some things never change" is that in this case it's false:  This is getting worse.   Here are some more direct quotes:

• Business Development. Almost all law firm management issues are ultimately directed toward growing the top line (associate retention, training, marketing, strategy, etc.) It would be good to hear about this at both the individual level (aside from the standard cliches of "write articles, give speeches, network, and ask for business from all your friends," what other business development strategies do partners use) and at the firm level (what steps have been taken by national firms such as Latham and Kirkland to become more prominent and self-sustaining; how do firms organize and manage their practices and partners to maximize business opportunity).
• Continual pressure on fees and use of procurement.
• The pressure from clients for ever more efficient, lower price, better quality services compounded by the impact of procurement officers who don't understand and show little inclination to want to learn.

Just last week I learned of a Fortune 100 company whose panel for evaluating outside counsel consists of three people:  An associate general counsel and—two purchasing managers.  This is indeed only getting worse, and I'll try to bring back tales from the field that may be helpful to more of you.

The Hollow Middle haunts some of you. Faithful readers of "Adam Smith, Esq." will know what the hollow middle refers to, but for those who don't a quick refresher.  An increasingly prevalent industry structure sees firms migrating both to the high end, high-value, premium quality level, and to the no-frills, low-end, commodity level, with little comfortable territory remaining inbetween.   For example:

• Cars:  Toyota, Honda, Nissan, Chevy vs. Lexus, Audi, Mercedes, BMW, Ferrari, Porsche
• All wine/beer/spirits:  Budweiser vs. micro-brews, generic vodka vs. single-malt Scotch, magnum generic "chardonnay" vs. subscriber-only "Screaming Eagle"
• Financial services:  No-fee free checking for life  from Wachovia vs. private wealth management from US Trust.

And you get the idea.  My hypothesis is that our market is going in the same direction.  Here are some verbatim comments reflecting that same point of view:

• What happens to mid-sized firms in Europe - will they disappear over the next ten to fifteen years as a result of the inflow of US and UK firms? What should our US strategy be, with many former sources of referrals now setting up shop next door? And if mid-tier firms are to stay, what will their role be?
• The polarization of the market (the shrinking middle with more and more work being classified commodity/low fee or bet-the-company/high fee
• "Mid-Market Mush" or "why bother with a platform that's mediocre?"  Our practice group is very strong and we're not sure whether we should be a boutique or stay in the firm.

Since this is already a theme I have been sounding for some time, expect to see more coverage of it here as its impact spreads.

Finally, we have what emerged as the most important concern of yours by far—head and shoulders above anything else I've mentioned until now.  And that is:

Management.   Law firms are intrinsically complex to manage, and you are painfully aware of that.  (Indeed, the truth of that observation might be said to be one of the foundational reasons why "Adam Smith, Esq." exists.)   The theme that emerges is that lawyers just plain are not predisposed to cooperating in the management imperative.  

Aside from seeming to have been inoculated with some vaccine that provides lifelong resistance to management in general, the presumed structure of rewards for partners today—divvying up all the profits at the end of the year and leaving the firm's balance sheet essentially back at zero —works strongly against investment, a long-term outlook, or a strategic perspective. 

Here are some of your comments and worries:

• Ineffective management. Rainmakers are not always the best communicators or managers
• 1. Lack of firm leadership; 2. Partner apathy in "running a business" beyond simply collecting a bonus; 3. Lack of strategic planning
• Persuading lawyers to understand that hiring a consultant is not (always) an admission of failure, but can be a way of creating / seizing an opportunity
• Transition from older partners to younger partners and division of income amongst the same.
• Continuing to find ways to motivate all of our partners and to have them recognize we're all in a state of continuous change.
• Firms competing in a global economy. Firms realizing they have to act more like corporate America
• The lack of real understanding as to how law firm organisations need to change to get the best out of people; the impact of globalisation on law firms.
  [And finally, perhaps my favorite:]
• Balancing the desire to grow as a firm versus the desire not to change. Our firm is looking to grow, and most everyone supports the notion, so long as nothing changes for the individual.

Much food for thought.  One implication is clear: I shall never lack for topics to discuss here on "Adam Smith, Esq." 

Your comments have been remarkably candid, serious-minded, insightful, and just plain human. 

As I've written before in various contexts, I believe our profession is currently undergoing a sea change in the structure and composition of the industry that will transform it in ways that will endure for essentially the remaining working careers of most of us. 

You have, if anything, confirmed the strains, pressures, and uncertainties of being in the center of this rapid transition.   The settled certainties of our parents' world are indeed long gone.

Having some inexplicable instincts alerting me to this coming vortex many years ago, I continue to find it fascinating beyond measure.   Please continue to share your thoughts with me, either through the Survey or, more directly, by email.

What I Talked About With Harvard Law Students

Yesterday I was privileged to be able to speak to students at Harvard Law School in a talk I titled "Law Firm Finances (and Other Realities): Explained."  My invitation came  from the office of career services, and I accepted with gratitude and alacrity. I anticipate giving a similar talk at Stanford, Columbia, Georgetown, and NYU law schools.

First, here's an outline of what I presented.  And second, I have a question for all of you.

• Income and expenses of law firms; the P&L
  • With profound pressures on both components of the income statement
  • If we hew to the billable hour model, the components of revenue [rates x hours x realization] all face intrinsic limits.
  • Yet there are no intrinsic limits to the aspirations of PPP
  • Are we therefore facing a train wreck down the road, or, at last, the emergence of genuine alternatives to the billable hour
• The economics of  young associates
  • The reality is that $160K/year, plus benefits, plus rent/occupancy, plus other allocated overhead, is a very large number (in the neighborhood of half a million dollars, I estimated)
  • To cover that, do the math of billable hours
  • And you'll understand why you'll be in the office 60 hours/week or so
• The importance of picking a practice area
  • Based on intrinsic financials, such as leverage, of practice areas
  • Based on your personal temperament
  • Based on economic cyclicality of practice areas.
• The unprecedented importance of picking a firm
  • Single-tier vs two-tier?
  • Segmentation of the AmLaw 100:
    • The evolving structure of our industry
      • Truly global firms
      • New York City "bulge bracket" firms
      • "Formerly from California" firms
      • The "hollow middle"
      • The salience of geography
• And what it takes to succeed in this increasingly competitive, pressurized, high-tempo world:
  • Passion

I'd be interested in what any of you think about these topics.  I tried to put together the presentation by asking myself a simple question:  What do I wish I'd known when I was in their shoes?

And my experience overall? 

I feel privileged every day to work with some of the smartest people at some of the leading law firms in our English-speaking world, and I'll tell you something:  These Harvard students are every bit their peer, at least if you consider them peers in formation. Probing, inquisitive, sincerely curious, asking deeply thought-provoking questions, appreciative and not a cynical bone in their bodies.

Now, my question:  Had you been me, what would you have wanted to tell these students?  Let me know.

A Conversation with Marianne Short, Managing Partner of Dorsey & Whitney

A few days ago after