All in Law Practice

Farewell (?) E-banking Trust Account Rules, We Hardly Knew You

Effective today, Wisconsin trust account rules have sort-of caught up with the rest of the country, and finally acknowledge that electronic transactions really aren’t that scary.

Under the Rules applicable from 2016 to yesterday (which the Wisconsin Lawyer optimistically described as “modernizing” the way these things are handled), if lawyers wanted to accept electronic transactions (including credit cards) for advanced fees, they either had to set up a separate “e-banking trust account” or, if they wanted to use a primary trust account for electronic transactions (which has been described as an “all-in-one” trust account) comply with some additional security and insurance needs.

A Year in the Life

A year ago, my colleagues and I sat around the conference table, trying to parse what health authorities were saying and what it might mean for law practice generally and our work specifically. We discussed what would happen if people needed to quarantine, and whether we should make sure everyone was set up to receive email remotely, or what might happen in a worst-case scenario, if we had to shut down for a few weeks.

On “Professionalism” and Professionalism

I remember we got the Character & Fitness talk, the one telling us to get help if we needed help (but disclose the help on the application, please) and otherwise focusing on our missteps and how that could cost us bar admission. The professor giving the talk, a Jesuit priest who taught ethics and evidence, admonished us to sanitize our social media: “Do not post pictures of you doing keg stands, wearing naught but a thong.” It was not professional, he said.

In Case of Emergency, Break Everything

I routinely counsel others on how to prepare for emergencies we don’t like to talk about—our ethical duties to our clients continue even if we become disabled, or die (though Wisconsin’s Office of Lawyer Regulation does not routinely prosecute violations posthumously, and we can be grateful for those small favors). I’ve handled more than one call from someone who ended up in the no-good-deed-goes-unpunished scenario of having a bunch of files dumped in their office from a grieving and panicked spouse with little more than a “now what?”

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

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.