First, I will caveat this with, dammit Jim, I’m a lawyer, not a doctor or an economist, so I’m not going to make any predictions or grand pronouncements, except, please be safe and careful and wash your hands (you can use this handy procrastination tool to make posters for your bathroom mirror). Take this seriously. We are in exceedingly uncharted territory.
When I was in law school and applying for bar membership, there were a number of character and fitness questions seeking information about substance abuse and mental health. I (somewhat shockingly, I’m a pack rat) don’t have the questionnaire anymore so I don’t remember the exact questions, but I do remember the Board of Bar Examiners asking if applicants had sought counseling or other mental health treatment. I do not recall whether the above caveats were present (though I believe we were told we did not need to disclose stress/domestic/eating disorder counseling). I remember that it felt intrusive and stigmatizing, even though I have been fortunate and I didn’t have much to disclose.
Still playing catch-up after Austin, but a couple of quick related points about ambulances and the fact we don’t literally chase them.
I learned later that I was probably suffering from vicarious (or secondary) trauma, which is the subject of a recent ABA Journal article (and other good ones in the past). To summarize briefly, lawyers can be surrounded by their clients’ traumas and sometimes internalize them, to the point where they exhibit symptoms similar to those of PTSD.
When I launched this site back in October I intended it to be a site for discussion of legal ethics. I mean, it’s right there in the title (sort of; perhaps I should add getting “ethicking” added to the dictionary to my bucket list). Disciplinary decisions, new rules, general nerdery. Some current events but “it’s not about politics, and it’s not going to be about politics,” or so I told my employer when making the pitch.
It’s January so everyone is setting goals and making predictions for the year ahead, and forgetting all about those goals and predictions for last year that didn’t actually materialize. If you are of the ilk where you have written these things down, dig last year’s out and take a look. I did that recently. My goals for 2019 were adorable.
If you’re like many lawyers in private practice, you measure (, measure) a year in billable hours, because at the end of the day that’s how you get paid (directly or indirectly, or a combination). I’m not going to use this space to rail for or against the billable hour—most of my work is hourly and there is something to be said for cold math, but plenty of my colleagues utilize contingency, flat fee, and/or hybrid agreements because their work lends itself to those arrangements.
With all due respect to my judge friends, I think most of us who litigate have been tempted to ask, “are you serious, judge?” in court at one point or another. But (I would hope) most of us know better than to actually say it out loud.
Enter Todd Banks of Queens, New York, who seems to have a problem with a lot of things.
Lawyers leave their firms (voluntarily) and go to others for a variety of reasons—relocation of a spouse, better offers, jerk bosses, bad coffee. And I suspect the worse the current situation (I mean, certain coffee must violate some Geneva Convention provision, right?), the quicker the lawyer may want to say goodbye and move on.
But, not so fast. They’ve got some important ethical obligations.
