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.

Client Intake is Purely Operational. Not.

Recently I had the chance to sit down for a chat with a "lawyer's lawyer" in that his practice revolves around matters such as partnership agreements (their drafting and interpretation), fee disputes and malpractice litigation, and professional ethics and professional responsibility overall. He and I both conceive of these topics as "risk management."

As loyal readers know, and as I've confessed before, these are issues dealt altogether too short shrift here on "Adam Smith, Esq." Focusing on strategy, finance, economics, compensation, and like issues often lets me elide whether we're all playing by the rules in our pursuit of more visionary strategy, more effective and consistent management, stronger communication, and a more coherent partnership.

But my conversation with this fellow gave me new insight into how risk management in the ethical sense and risk management in the managerial sense are truly joined at the hip. And at that juncture is one of those subjects often relegated to the green eyeshades and the computer programs, namely: Client Intake.

First, why does client intake matter from a risk management perspective? And why should it be more--far more--than a perfunctory conflicts and credit check and we're done here?

My friend observed that there are "bad clients and then there are dangerous clients." Bad clients are irrationally demanding, haggle over every bit of every bill, pay slowly, and are generally obnoxious to deal with. You regret the professional time you spend with them and on their matters. Dangerous clients are of another order.

Dangerous clients bring with them undisclosed multiple representations, are slow to reveal what they know (and what you need to know to represent them effectively, not to mention within the bounds of ethics), and can introduce unforeseen and unknown conflicts, which can later subject you to disqualification and other ugly fates.

But that's not why I'm writing about client intake.

I'm writing about client intake from the economic perspective, which is very simple: Client intake determines your firm's future pipeline of demand. (Associates and laterals are your future pipeline of supply, a topic for another day.) Now I ask you: What conceivably is more strategic than your firm's future pipeline of clientele?

That in a word is why this is not a job for a gross level conflicts check (anything absolutely positively indisputably adverse?) and a quick D&B. Seizing control of client intake is the only way to move your firm, in the long run, from its current market position to a new and superior one. Some firms have never seen a dollar of revenue they don't like, but that is not a strategy. Need I remind you that "Strategy means saying no"?

For example?

More than one Magic Circle firm that I know of turns down some clients in Asia who want them to represent them in IPO's because the firms don't want the imprimatur of their brand names to be borrowed for the shiny prestige value by clients potentially unworthy.

A major US firm is wary about launching in China because it does not discount rates, and rates in China are widely subject to great discounting pressure.

An AmLaw 25 firm is focused on three industries (these are not they, but assume for purposes of argument the industries are life sciences, high tech, and media) and therefore will not open offices, no matter how compelling the blandishments, in cities where those industries do not predominate.

You get the picture.

And another thing about client intake, which has to do with the flip side: Firing clients.

The typical law firm's client distribution graph features the famous "long tail," with a tremendous concentration in value, expertise deployed, and hours billed, at the extreme left side of the distribution. The top 10% of clients by number may easily account for 50% of firm revenues, and the next 10% for the next 30%. Then we have the long tail.

Do you need those clients? Are they using your firm to their full advantage?

Studies have shown, among other things, that:

• Realization rates are highest among the largest and most loyal clients, typically comfortably higher than firm-wide realization rates.
• Conversely, realization rates among the smallest and most episodic clients are the lowest firm-wide, often to the point of making individual matters unprofitable.

Partners with those small clients will tell you (will they not?!) that "somewhere in here is the next Microsoft." Not true. Almost universally, small clients remain small clients. And experience has shown that those that grow into sizable enterprises are disloyal to their "starter" law firms and want to rapidly move up to more established and burnished brand name law firms as soon as they feel they have the stature to do so. How does it feel to be a money-losing doormat to greatness, which will decamp?

But this of course is not all there is to the story.

Would it were as simple as to impose discipline on client intake, manage it from a stategic and not an expedient perspective, and find all your partners falling into line behind you. The reality is of course that that runs headlong into partners' need for autonomy.

And the answer to what happens when there is the inevitable, banging, noisy, cymbal-crashing collision between partner autonomy and strategic client intake is simply this: How strong is the fabric of your partnership culture?

If it's all for the greater good of the firm (and, yes, its clients, who will be best served by a firm that is stronger and stronger, professionally and financially, into the future), then you have a prayer of imposing discipline and, over time, moving the firm towards higher-value engagements with clients who give more of their "share of wallet" to your firm, who work with you ever more intimately, and who come to treat you as the trusted advisor of lore.

But if it's all for the individual partner (have you looked at how your compensation system rewards origination and billing credits, by the way?--just thought I'd ask), then your "firm" is never going to move in any strategic direction whatsoever. It will remain a prisoner of the endless chain, stretching out to the horizon and beyond, of the next new available client who can pass a credit and a conflicts check.

If that's your firm, bonne chance. Just ask yourself once in awhile why it's a "firm."

Of Rivets & CDO's (And Temptation)

In this economic environment of little visibility going forward and indeed little transparency into the health of the transactional practices at the moment, you may find yourself struggling to meet partners' expectations for a continuation of the double-digit growth rates of revenue and income that most firms have enjoyed for the past six or seven years.

While I believe (as I've written) that times like these provide for the potential emergence of new leaders and laggards—based on who can more nimbly navigate the opportunities that the current deviation from "steady as she goes" provides—I also believe that the temptation to meet largely self-imposed revenue and/or income targets can lead one into peril.  Two stories in the past 24 hours exemplify the danger.

From The Wall Street Journal, a nicely done historic recap of why Merrill Lynch seems to be on track to break a record it would rather leave stand, by writing down more than $30 billion and posting a third straight quarterly loss, the longest losing streak in its 94 years:

"The first tremor that rattled Merrill's profitable business of underwriting mortgage securities came at the end of 2005. As it repackaged mortgage bonds into securities called collateralized debt obligations, or CDOs, Merrill had a key partner in insurer American International Group Inc. An AIG unit bore the default risk of the CDOs' largest and highest-rated chunk, known as the "super-senior" tranche, normally sold to big investors such as foreign banks.

"But AIG was keeping a close eye on the housing boom because it had another unit that made subprime loans, those to home buyers with weak credit. AIG did a review of the market. Concerned that home-lending standards were getting too lax, AIG at the end of 2005 stopped insuring mortgage securities.

"Merrill was used to having to keep lots of mortgage bonds and pieces of CDOs on its books temporarily before selling them. But without a firm like AIG providing credit insurance, Merrill had to bear the risk of default itself.

"Instead of scaling back its underwriting of CDOs, however, Merrill put the business in overdrive. It began holding on its own books large chunks of the highest-rated parts of CDOs whose risk it couldn't offload.

"Merrill was able to hang onto the top spot in Wall Street's CDO-underwriting ranks."

The efforts to sustain the CDO gravy train became more brazen than just assuming additional trading risk.  John Breit, described as a "senior risk manager," was overruled—an event without precedent—when he objected to certain Canadian underwritings.  He submitted a letter of resignation to the CFO but was given a different position outside risk management stayed at the firm. 

Another executive who had a custom of limiting CDO exposure was dismissed in mid-2006, and a senior trader "without much experience in mortgage securities" was installed to oversee the function of taking CDO's onto Merrill's own books. 

As the housing market began visibly deteriorating in 2007, Merrill could (says the Journal) have ended its exposure to the mortgage-backed market at the price of a $1.5-$3-billion writeoff.  "Instead, Merrill tried a different strategy: quickly turn the bonds into more CDOs."  The goal was evidently to stay at the top of the league tables, and they achieved that soon to be dubious distinction:

"In the first seven months of 2007, Merrill created more than $30 billion in mortgage CDOs, according to Dealogic, keeping Merrill No. 1 in Wall Street underwriting for this type of security."

But the music quickly stopped and John Thain, the new CEO, is now hard at work upgrading risk controls—even to the point of rehiring the risk-conscious executive they fired in 2006.  And if I read the story right, the price of avoiding a $1.5-3 billion writeoff a year ago will end up being $30-billion in writeoffs.

Separately, The New York Times yesterday featured a story covering a book about to be published advancing the theory that what caused the Titanic to sink as fast as it did (in merely 2-1/2 hours) were poor quality rivets that popped and turned what were six small slits into wounds open to the sea. 

At the time of the Titanic's construction (1911-1912), steel rivets installed by machine were the highest standard, as was "best best" metal to make the rivets.  But the ship's builder, Harland and Wolff of Belfast, Northern Ireland (still in business today) was severely overtaxed in its shipbuilding capacity as it was simultaneously assembling the Titanic's two sister ships, the Olympic and the Britannic.  Each required 3 million rivets.  According to the new book, shortages of both rivets and riveters peaked while the Titanic was under construction:

"'The board was in crisis mode,' one of the authors, Jennifer Hooper McCarty, who studied the archives, said in an interview. 'It was constant stress. Every meeting it was, ‘There’s problems with the rivets and we need to hire more people.''"

Forced to reach beyond its usual suppliers to smaller, less skilled and experienced forges, and choosing to buy merely "best" rather than "best best" iron, Harland and Wolff also reached out to inexperienced and green riveters and chose to economize at the bow and stern of the Titanic by using iron rather than steel rivets (which were used amidships).  Famously, the iceberg hit near the bow.

"The company also faced shortages of skilled riveters, the archives showed. Dr. McCarty said that for a half year, from late 1911 to April 1912, when the Titanic set sail, the company’s board discussed the problem at every meeting. For instance, on Oct. 28, 1911, Lord William Pirrie, the company’s chairman, expressed concern over the lack of riveters and called for new hiring efforts.

In their research, the scientists, who are metallurgists, found that good riveting took great skill. The iron had to be heated to a precise cherry red color and beaten by the right combination of hammer blows. Mediocre work could hide problems."

Could better rivets have kept the Titanic afloat long enough for help to arrive?  That is the fascinating question the book implicitly poses.

Yet I have a different question:  Why was there (so it would appear) no discussion at the Harland and Wolff board meetings about slowing down production to permit first-class materials to be obtained and first-class work to be done?  Presumably egos were at stake—as egos were at stake in Merrill Lynch retaining its #1 league ranking for CDO's.

Tempted you may be to rely heavily on a familiar practice or area, and lean on it hard in these times.  If you do so, a word of caution: Park your ego at the door.

One last thing: Recognize that these are not normal economic times, and face that reality with brutal realism.

Merrill was not willing to recognize the brutal reality of the incipient subprime meltdown, even to the point of firing and demoting those who were. And Harland and Wolff ignored the potentially dire consequences of high-slag content (not "best best") iron and callow riveters.

As well as you know your business—and that actually only makes it worse—beware hubris.

Diversity, the Billable Hour, & Other Challenges

First comes an FT story on clients demanding more "diversity" in City firms, then a followup letter attributing high female turnover to late night hours, next a WSJ Law Blog piece on how to keep female talent on the partnership track (featuring insights from WilmerHale and Cleary), a Working Mother story called "Young, Gifted, and Leaving" about law firm associates, and finally a lead editorial by the President of the California State Bar on "Escaping the billable hours trap."

Journalists like to say that three anecdotes constitute a trend, but here we have not three but five noteworthy articles telling us that what we're doing is essentially unsustainable. Are you paying attention?

The facts are pretty straightforward. For about the past three decades, women have constituted 50% or slightly more of law school graduates, yet they're still only about 17% of BigLaw partners. It can no longer be argued that they only need time to get through the pipeline; that argument exhausted itself about 20 years ago, and essentially nothing meaningful in the female partnership statistics has changed. Whatever we are doing and have been doing is not working if greater representation of women as partners is the goal. As the well-known joke sometimes attributed to Einstein has it, a working definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing the same way and expect a different result. We need different results.

How big is the problem? Or is it even a problem? After all, law firms are hardly suffering, and PPP numbers continue (at least through the last reporting period....) to keep growing at double-digit rates.

But the question is not whether firms are profitable on the current model; the question is whether they could do better by deciding to seriously address the problem of sacrificing such an enormous proportion of their talent pool for no evident business reason. The question, in other words, is one of opportunity costs. By doing nothing to address staggering female attrition rates, what are firms losing? Some statistics.

"The number of young female associates leaving law firms hit a record high over the past five years—with an average annual attrition rate of 19 percent, according to the National Association for Law Placement (NALP) Foundation. Not surprisingly, the higher a law firm's required number of billable hours, the higher its associate attrition rate, according to a 2006 survey by the Bar Association of San Francisco. And many of these departing associates leave for good—some 31 percent, a recent survey by MIT Workplace Center reveals. Beyond bleeding firms of top talent, this loss can affect the bottom line: Each associate who walks takes along about $300,000 in lost training and recruitment costs. A 15 percent departure rate may siphon off an average of $12 million each year from a large firm, estimates Paula Patton, CEO and president of the NALP Foundation."

Taking this beyond "diversity"

Are there plausible ways to address the female attrition rate—and the overall associate attrition rate? Are there things we're doing wrong which are kneecapping our performance as consummately professional organizations delivering superb client service, as economic engines of profit generation, and as profoundly rewarding places to work?

Yes.

But only so long as you're willing to tilt at windmills, and the windfall (pun intended) du jour is the billable hour. No matter how many stakes have been aimed at its heart, none have been driven home true.

I can't say I'm surprised. For law firms, it's cost-plus pricing: A great deal! You literally cannot lose money on that economic model. Indeed, you can produce super-normal profit margins. And for clients, it's also weirdly bulletproof. "For services rendered...." followed by a six-figure number, unitemized, is tough for the green eyeshade crowd to digest.

You may know and I may know that figure is (a) entirely appropriate; (b) thoroughly earned; (c) probably understated vs what the law firm could have charged and gotten away with, but how do you "defend" it? Billable hours are defensible in the same way parking tickets are defensible. We know what the rules are: Never mind that the rules may be fundamentally nonsensical, you can't argue with City Hall.

And what is wrong with the billable hour?

Don't take my word for it, take a page from Jeff Bleich, president of the State Bar of California:

"This mission — ensuring access and justice by all means possible — is what attracted me to the bar. It is also what makes me think we need to re-examine a practice that is threatening the capacity of lawyers to serve the public effectively: billable hours. We all know about the lifestyle burden that billable hours places on lawyers. But on a deeper level, a billable hours system is corrupting to our profession in both obvious and more subtle ways. One of the important challenges of the next generation of lawyers and bar leaders will be to find a way out of the billable hour trap."

And permit me to go on by excerpting what he says in relatively full part. These are important words.

"The destruction brought by billable hours can be subtler in that it affects not merely the cost and efficiency of our work, but the quality of our profession as a whole. Firms now have only three ways to make more money — work longer hours, increase the number of lawyers or raise rates. Predictably, in a profit-maximizing system, firms have been doing all three. Instead of working 1,700 hours a year as lawyers did in the 1970s, today, new lawyers typically bill around 2,100 hours. Those additional hours come out of two places — evenings and weekends. That means less sleep, fewer outside interests, less commitment to loved ones and the crumbling of a decent life.

"Lawyers feel guilty about doing the very things that we should do to achieve access and justice — such as pro bono work for those in need or service to the community. Instead new lawyers come to view themselves as people who merely rent out their brains for a certain price per hour. And they and their work are degraded by the experience.

"The trend towards putting lots of lawyers on cases just compounds this. Young lawyers have fewer client contacts, less ownership of a case and fewer opportunities to actually solve a problem. As they advance, they aren’t asking the questions that will allow them to one day lead their firms and the profession: what experience am I getting, what sorts of colleagues are we developing, what is our culture and philosophy? Instead they think more and more about profit targets, hours targets and what their exit strategy is.

"An entire generation of lawyers has come to believe that their worth as a lawyer is measured not in how they solve problems but in how many hours they need to work. Not surprisingly, this has not made them better problem solvers.

"I realize that strong economic forces will continue to favor billable hours, and if a better and equally lucrative alternative existed, it would have been adopted by now. So this will not be an easy problem to solve. But we will eventually reach the outer limits of human endurance and the upper reaches of client tolerance, and if we do not begin addressing the issues now, it will be too late when we do. There are alternatives to billable hours, such as fixed fee arrangements with negotiated bonuses based on performance.

"The point though is not any one solution. The point is that as a profession, we need to start finding billing methods that will reduce distrust and damage to our client relationships, that will refocus young lawyers on being problem-solvers again, and that will remind us of — rather than distract us from — why we are lawyers in the first place."

Finally, there may be some good news.

WilmerHale's Bill Perlstein (and potentially some other firm leaders) have some innovative ideas about how to keep female, and male, associates on the partnership track through different approaches than the century-old Cravath system's 7-9 year up or out model. There do, indeed, have to be other ways.

This is a profound long-term challenge to our profession, and no one has all the answers.

What are your thoughts?

Update: Monday 28 April. A reader writes:

I enjoyed your piece very much because it hits home for me quite directly from both the female perspective as well as the billable hour one. In the last two weeks, I left my partner position at a large law firm in Chicago where I had been for more than 14 years to join some like-minded billable hour dissidents in the new litigation venture Valorem Law Group (www.valoremlaw.com). Having co-founded and co-chaired the women's initiative at my previous firm (incidentally, named one of the 100 Best Companies for Working Mothers in 2007) and co-founded a recent organization in Chicago called the "Coalition of Women's Initiatives in Law Firms," I am quite aware of the negative impact that the billable hour model has, not only on clients who want their work done quickly, efficiently and with good results, but also on attorneys who are creative, efficient and thrive on collaboration -- all things that the billable hour model hinders.

Without over simplifying it, as a working mother of 3 who was determined to work more productively in order to enjoy a balanced home life, I would venture to say that the billable hour model disproportionately (but not exclusively) impacts women, as any value measured by the commodity of already-stretched-too-thin time is going to favor those who have more of it -- and that is not typically women.

Our experience at Valorem and the widespread feedback we've received so far from clients and other attorneys tells us we are on the right track, both for clients and for the industry as a whole. As you would say, we are "tilting windmills." Stay tuned to see how the wind continues to blow.

Why KM Matters. With Soundtrack.

Here at "Adam Smith, Esq." I've written about Knowledge Management a fair amount, since it's my belief that knowledge is what law firms sell.

But despite the (I believe) inarguable centrality of KM to what we do, there are three enormous problems with it:

• Too many lawyers don't understand why it's of value to them, or, more precisely, why the return they could get out of it would exceed the investment they'd have to put into it.  (Never mind the threat of "giving away" your core professional asset—what you know.)
• Too many technologists and IT types don't understand how lawyers work, and end up creating shockingly powerful but essentially useless applications.
• And even the most powerful and user-friendly system requires constant care and feeding because legal learning is in a state of constant flux:  In a sense, pure white ignorance beats obsolete and mistaken knowledge.

Because some of these obstacles are a blend of the intellectual and the emotional, a brief foray, presented in video, yields two of the best visceral explanations of why Knowledge Management matters.  

With a big fat hat tip to Matthew Parsons and Neil Richards of Knowledge Thoughts, then, our first (2:21 running time, sponsor's logo at the very end):

And our second (5:29 run time, academic credit and "CC" license at the end):

Enjoy.

And reflect.

Global Management: Central or Local?

"Multilocal?"

That's the new McKinsey coinage intended to lend new intellectual luster and heft to the perennial management-theoretical challenge of how to manage multinational firms. No matter how familiar the business issues, now is probably an especially timely moment to revisit them, given the strenuous economic environment. In good times, suboptimal management can be overlooked; but at times like this there is no room for slack in the rigging.

Here, then, the familiar landscape:

• geographic or product area focus?
• heavily centralized or with greater local customization?
• capitalizing on cross-border synergies or maximizing local, country-specific practices?

The fundamental challenge is to capture the greatest value from local practices while also benefiting from the value of an international platform and brand.

This is not an a abstract exercise; it is deeply ingrained with, and commences from, where your firm actually produces value. If, for example, you're a capital markets-centric New York and London powerhouse, a centralized and more or less top-down approach may be ideal. To the extent you have other offices, they may be more branches of convenience than full service local outposts in their own right. Conversely, if your firm has a more widely diversified portfolio of local practices (say, energy in Moscow, IP in Milan, project finance in Dubai, startup financing in Eastern Europe, etc.) then headquarters needs to "get out of the way" of these country-specific profit centers.

So far, these elements of strategy may appear relatively self-evident, but the devil is typically in the execution. If the goal is maximizing cross-border value, here are three barriers on that front:

• Lack of awareness. Is anyone actually responsible for identifying cross-border opportunities? Or is it all ad hoc and hit or miss?
• Motivation. What value has management placed on collaboration? Is it an element in the determination of compensation? Are local fiefdoms jealous of sharing their clientele and/or expertise? Again, does the compensation calculation reward multi-office collaboration or implicitly penalize it through ossified origination and billing credits?
• Poor execution. This can stem from things as simple as language and cultural differences, but more fundamentally the threat to seamless execution is murky accountability and the absence of a champion promoting multi-office teamwork.

Consider some partial measures--short of centralized mandates--to facilitate more "natural" and instinctive collaboration. Such as?

• Sharing best practices, deal templates, and the like.
• Rotating and "seconding" people among offices.
• Creating a firm "university" (or utilizing one of the many many business schools eager to do it for you) to bring leaders together and engage them in creative problem-solving.
• Geographic--read: regional--clustering. There's probably a sweet spot between total centralization and pure local autonomy that can achieve several objectives:
  • integrate similar practices across countries
  • avoid duplication
  • manage the performance of the firm across several countries in a more coherent fashion, and
  • economize on travel expenses.

None of these suggestions and recommendations are earth-shattering, but cumulatively they serve as a virtuous reminder that global firms face a continuum of choice over how centralized or how locally autonomous they choose to make their management.

And especially in our industry, where local jurisdictional, substantive law, regulatory and licensing issues are so much more critical to what we do than (say) different packaging preferences might be to a consumer goods firm, it's important to try to strike the right balance between capitalizing on local law capability while maintaining the "one-firm firm" strength of a global platform able to seamlessly serve our equally global clients. A light hand on the reins.

"Legal Transformation Study" Released by Altman Weil

Today Altman Weil announced its release of The Legal Transformation Study:   Your 2020 Vision of the Future, published by Decision Strategies International:

“The comprehensive industry assessment identified 11 key global trends and uncertainties shaping the future of the legal industry, then developed four possible planning scenarios that the legal industry may face in the next decade,” said Paul Schoemaker, Ph.D., research director of the Mack Center for Technological Innovation at Wharton Business School, and the founder and executive chairman of Decision Strategies International.  “These four scenarios can be used as a framework for challenging current service models within the industry, answering key strategic questions, and helping stakeholders, including corporate law departments, law firms and legal service suppliers, identify proactive strategies to ensure future success.”

"According to Dr. Schoemaker, four possible scenarios for the delivery of legal services between now and 2020 are summarized as follows:

- Blue-Chip Mega-Mania: A model that emphasizes the global consolidation of legal service providers and the dominance of giant law firms with vast global presence and offerings spanning all legal areas.

- Expertopia: A scenario that envisions the increasing complexity of the law and challenges of corporations operating in multiple environments worldwide, thereby placing a premium on specialization and expert-driven cultures at legal services organizations.

- E-Marketplace: A model built on the premise that technology will be a catalyst, but not the core, for an industry transformation in which an array of Web-based technologies will make information more available and expert judgment more valuable.

- Techno-Law: A scenario that contemplates rising corporate investment in automation capabilities throughout the legal services industry, leaving only the high-end services to be delivered by legal professionals and potentially requiring a complete reconstruction of the traditional business models in the legal services industry.

“In the past, law firms and corporate law departments have frequently been taken by surprise by unexpected forces that directly influenced the practice of law,” said Jim Seidl, president of Legal Research Center and co-developer of the Study.  “The findings of this Study will empower legal service providers to proactively compete more successfully in the global legal marketplace, reduce the risk of unexpected business surprises and threats, and identify new opportunities for business growth in the next decade.”

“As a provider of services within the dynamic electronic discovery services arena, we closely monitor current trends and anticipate the future of our profession to help our clients make well-informed decisions and achieve favorable results,” said Greg Mazares, president and CEO of Encore Legal Solutions.  “The Legal Transformation Study is an important tool we can all use to prepare for any number of potential business scenarios.  We are pleased to have been a primary developer of the Study and look forward to sharing the results with our clients and other legal professionals across the nation.”

“This Study is a tool to test the resiliency of law firm strategic plans across a range of possible futures, or to develop new plans more likely to assure their success,” said Ward Bower, strategy consultant at Altman Weil.  “This is critical stuff for law firms.  If they get their basic direction wrong, they’re toast.”
 
“There can be no doubt that we are poised for significant change between now and 2020, with a wide range of business, technological and regulatory forces sure to have a major impact on the way that legal services are delivered to corporations worldwide,” said Mark Chandler, general counsel of Cisco Systems, and a Study contributor.  “This groundbreaking Study identifies the likely components of these industry changes and prescribes important guidelines for how corporate law departments, law firms and other legal service providers can start planning now to seize these emerging opportunities while protecting against competitive threats.”

Sponsors include of course Altman Weil, and Jomati, but also Encore Legal Solutions, Bridgeway Software, Inc., Deloitte Financial Advisory Services LLP, DuPont Legal, Eversheds, Intellevate, Meritas and Solomon Page Group LLC. 

You can order a copy here. 

"Measuring Law Firm Success:" The Law Society Picks Up the Baton

The attentive among you may recall that I was in London last November where, among other things, I was pleased and flattered to have been asked by Guy Beringer of Allen & Overy to participate in a panel hosted at A&O's Bishopsgate headquarters on "Measuring Law Firm Success."  That discussion, and that topic, have now been handed over to The Law Society of England & Wales, where they recently launched coverage of the event that I was able to participate in as well as ongoing efforts.   They describe it thus:

"The Law Society is taking forward an initiative to explore ways of measuring the success of law firms. The initiative will look beyond the blunt instrument of profit per equity partner to the longer-term sustainability of firms, including business strategy, client care, employee engagement, innovation, social capital and efficiency.

"Our initiative is prompted by a significant and innovative project launched by Allen & Overy during 2007, and follows their request that the Society takes the project profession-wide. We are grateful for the opportunity to do so. "

Now available online are a summary of the seminar held at A&O, and the presentation I gave. 

I would be interested in any thoughts or opinions this prompts.

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.

Prospects for 2008: Another Precinct Heard From

So once it's in The Wall Street Journal it must be a real phenomenon, right?

I'm referring to today's "Why BigLaw Is Bracing for a Leaner 2008," along with its companion piece on the WSJ Law Blog.

A sampling of the evidence adduced behind the hypothesis of leaner times:

• "'Firms will see their work slow down this year,' says Regina Pisa, chairman of law firm Goodwin Procter LLP. 'There's no question about it.'"
• "'We have an uncertain environment for revenue growth in 2008, and that is the kindest thing I can say,' says Dan DiPietro, who works with large law firms as the client head at Citi Private Bank Law Firm Group."
• "Law firms 'are very much participants in the broader economy; we're very influenced by what is happening in the world,' says Greg Jordan, global managing partner at Reed Smith."

What's to be done?

Bill Perlstein of WilmerHale and Cesar Alvarez of Greenberg Traurig offer inarguable advice:

• A.  Watch associate and staff headcount like a hawk.
• B.  Watch real estate commitments even more closely.
• Take a scalpel, but not a meat cleaver, to your expenses (if you've done A & B, there's not much left here).
• Bill promptly and stay on top of receivables.

Those all amount to "known knowns"—things we always should be doing, that are plain as day, and which have an obvious impact. 

But the "unknown known"—the thing that we also know will have a tremendous impact, but we can't predict whether that impact will be good or bad—is whether the fabled a-cylicality of law firms' business will hold true this time around as it seems to have, faithfully, in the past.  Greg Jordan, notably, is predicting that it will not work out for us this time, and that the storm clouds of this down cycle will rain on us as well. 

I remain in the posture of the "worried optimist."  I believe the almost across-the-board repricing and re-evaluation of lending will, relatively soon, spark a fresh wave of both litigation (pointing blame being the first reaction to anyone caught with their financial pants down) and of creative and time-consuming restructuring work on the transactional side as the flow of credit which is so indispensable to the economy's functioning resumes.  And the new loans, lines, and facilities won't look like the old ones:   No more "covenant light" deals.

But if not covenant light, then?—covenant "heavy."  Which takes lawyers.

Maybe when Ron Papa, chair of Proskauer's corporate department, is "walking the halls" to see "who's working at night and on weekends," this is what he's seeing.

On Death & Dying (Financially, That Is)

Tuesday I attended one of the regular lunch-time meetings of the ABA's "Back to Business Law" project which describes itself as "a pilot project sponsored by the ABA Section of Business Law, [to] provide periodic continuing legal education programs and informal networking opportunities for attorneys who temporarily leave active practice in law firms or corporate settings (including women who leave for a period of months or years in order to care for children) but remain interested and engaged in business law issues."

This is surely a laudable initiative, as all too many participating in and commenting upon the appalling rates of attrition among female lawyers content themselves with merely "viewing with alarm" and doing nothing whatsoever concrete to ameliorate the situation.  (Indeed, faithful readers of longstanding may recall that I reported on this initiative once before.  If you'd like information on how your firm could get involved—or, perhaps as importantly, information on how to launch a parallel initiative outside New York City—please take a look at my earlier column.)

Tuesday's meeting was at Skadden Arps, where the presentation on the current ongoing credit crunch was by Peter Neckles, a Skadden partner whose practice focuses on corporate borrowers and institutional lenders, with a particular emphasis on restructurings, refinancings, workouts, and debtor-in-possession loans.  After rehearsing the sine-wave behavior of financial defaults, with recent local maximums in 1991 and 2001/2002, Peter explained the pain associated, across the economy, with "The Great Deleveraging" that we may now be about to experience.  As The Wall Street Journal reported serendipitously on the day of the meeting, sucking credit out of the economy is both deeply painful and constricting and can be a phenomenon—like the pumping up of credit during the prior "leveraging" period—that feeds on itself.  Here's how both those "snowballs" work:

•  When Debt Was Good: People bid more for a house because banks were willing to lend more. That helped house prices rise and gave the bank more confidence about lending yet more. So people borrowed even more and built an addition or bought a new car.
•  When Debt Becomes Bad: Banks decide they need to call in lines of credit. As some borrowers are forced to sell assets, prices fall. Banks get spooked by the falling value of collateral and cut back even more on lending.
•  How Bad is Bad? In Japan, despite massive government borrowing and five years of a near-zero interest rate on overnight borrowing, the prices of shares and real estate declined by 40% to 70%. In the U.K., house prices dropped by 40% in the early 1990s, after taking inflation into account, but share prices rose.

 And the devil of it is that there's not much the Fed can do this time:   Witness Japan's mid-1990's experience with zero interest rates.  If the economy is in a deflationary period, anyone who borrows must expect to pay back the loan with more valuable dollars/yen, and against an asset (the collateral for the loan) that is diminishing in value.  This is obviously the obverse of borrowing during inflationary times:  Inflation is the debtor's greatest champion, enabling borrowers not only to repay with cheaper currency but, perhaps, to refinance the loan against the increased value of the collateral. 

Marty Feldstein, chairman of the Council of Economic Advisers under Reagan, and now a professor at Harvard, pointed out precisely the Fed's predicament yesterday, also in the WSJ (emphasis supplied):

"The collapse of the credit markets began last summer when the subprime mortgage crisis demonstrated that financial risk of all types had been greatly underpriced, that the market prices of complex financial assets overstated their true values, and that the credit scores provided by rating agencies are not to be trusted. Because market participants now lack confidence in asset prices, they are unwilling to buy existing assets, thus preventing current asset owners from providing credit to new borrowers.

"The lack of confidence in asset prices also translates into a lack of confidence in the creditworthiness of other financial institutions, impeding the extension of credit to those institutions. And because financial institutions do not even have confidence in the value of their own capital and in the potential availability of liquidity, they are reluctant to make new lending commitments.

"It is not clear what can bring back the confidence in asset prices that is needed for credit to flow again."

Peter talked about how each downturn was the same as, and yet different than, every other:  "It's not 'Groundhog Day,' but it's close."  But even though there are clearly differences he sees on today's landscape vs. earlier episodes, including the existence of ~$45-trillion (notional value) of derivatives outstanding, and Sarbanes-Oxley, with its increased penalties for filing too "sunny" 10-K's, Peter talked about the human ingredients that never change.

The first reality of human nature is, according to Peter, that most senior executives of companies now coming under financial pressure think they're very smart.  "Imagine tossing an infinite number of coins a thousand times; one of them will come up heads every single time, and you know what that coin will think?  'I'm really smart!  None of the other coins figured out how to do what I just did.'"

This can lead to a false sense of denial about the severity of the crisis and an equally false sense of optimism about how well things will turn out without the need for drastic intervention.

The second reality is that a financial "death" (of a corporation, an investment fund, etc.) is highly analogous to a human being's death, at least insofar as how people react to it.  As we've known since Elizabeth Kubler Ross' On Death & Dying, people need to navigate through the five stages of grief:

• denial
• anger
• bargaining
• depression, and
• acceptance.

Clients whose firms are facing financial distress or even death are no different.  They will deny the problem is severe, look for people to blame, attempt to create short-term or unrealistic fixes, refuse to deal with it at all, and only then will they accept the reality of downgraded debt, impaired collateral, reduced cash-flow, and be ready to deal with their counter-party realistically.

Until then, Peter noted, you as an attorney and counselor can, effectively, do nothing.

Is that a "back to business" lesson?  I believe it doesn't get much more business-like than Peter's lesson about human nature.