In dinosaur days, if a lawyer or a judge had any publicity, it was frowned upon. The best lawyers were always behind the scenes, doing what they did best, without any fanfare or flacks (they are called publicists today). There were stunning verdicts, trial lawyers at the top of their games, but practicing law then was a quiet, discreet profession, behind closed doors in offices full of law books and leather chairs, dictaphones and redwells. Still to come were the inventions that have helped make the practice what it is today: the internet and social media, marketing personnel, laptops and smartphones, and all the other accoutrements that influence today’s practice, especially the rise of artificial intelligence.
For those of us who have witnessed the evolution, perhaps the revolution (or devolution, depending upon your viewpoint) of law practice, these changes have confounded many. Is it the time to move on from whatever spotlight we may have had to life’s next stage or stay put? We are antediluvian, that is, prehistoric, creatures of an earlier time in which professionalism, civility, and cordiality, qualities that were givens and just as important as billable hours, were key. (Remember block billing?) In those days, there was no need to confirm every conversation between counsel in writing.
Throw in the use of artificial intelligence to the pressures of the current lawyering environment and the need to be competent in that area. It’s prompting both internal and external discussions about whether to continue to practice. The pace continues to accelerate and some feel that this is the fork in the road that has been placed there to make that decision easier.
Years ago, one in-house lawyer I knew decided to retire because he didn’t want to learn and then handle e-discovery for his client. E-discovery. Sounds quaint and very old-fashioned now. When was the last time you fretted about e-discovery? I thought so.
There are many reasons for making the decision: reductions in force, stealth layoffs, being let go due to substandard performance (aka insufficient billables and collections), client issues, lack of new business or continuing business, loss of referral sources, health issues that can no longer be ignored, unhappy firm mergers, or dissolutions. Alternatively, we may have toughed it out until we know we’re done (just stick a fork in us).
Remind yourself that disappearing from public view in the practice for whatever reason doesn’t mean failure. It means freedom.
Freedom from the manacles of billable hours, freedom from the stress and distress that has accompanied all of us at various times, if not our constant companions, freedom from the frustration of trying to satisfy client whims, freedom from worrying whether you are professionally competent in all the new technologies to avoid bar discipline. The pressure to aggressively market, market, market in pursuit of the career is in the rearview mirror.
Freedom: the ability to choose what you want to do, the ability to do nothing at all, the ability to daydream, to wool-gather about all the possibilities that are out there. Don’t tell me that there aren’t any; they are everywhere. It’s just a matter of taking the time to see clearly and decide what is important and meaningful to you.
It’s not retirement, a word that strikes terror into many. It’s redirection. It’s not the same process for everyone and don’t expect it to be. The years of comparison should be over. What may be important to one is not important to another. So, how do you want to spend this third act of your life? Do you keep your license active and get involved in pro bono or maintain a small practice? Do you volunteer in organizations that have always interested you? Do you enjoy the leisure that you have earned? For many of us, downshifting from warp speed takes time. Carving out a different identity from partner, corporate counsel, or any other title that has identified you as a lawyer during your career takes time. There may be fits and starts. That’s OK.
The threshold question: how will you know when it’s time to go? The answer is simple: when you know, you know.
Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at oldladylawyer@gmail.com.
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