My friend Rich Gary has a valuable piece on Law Firm, Inc. about "managing the unmanageable"—managing lawyers, in other words. Rich’s piece, in turn, builds on David Maister’s famous (to my mind, anyway) April essay in The American Lawyer, "The Trouble with Lawyers." While David had more than one count on his bill of particulars itemizing why lawyers are intrinsically unmanageable, I believe they all stem from a fundamental lack of trust. Lawyers are:
- deeply invested in maintaining their own autonomy, and (unlike business school students) lack training in teamwork;
- professional skeptics, ready to analyze, critique, and spot flaws at a moment’s notice;
- risk-averse and constitutionally indisposed to building on the germ of an imperfect idea (as an entrepreneur would); and
- extremely reluctant to cede power to managers or leaders.
But as I say, I think all these characteristics—which I’m not about to take issue with—can be chalked up to an absence of trust.
That’s why Rich’s piece is so valuable.
As former chair of an AmLaw 100, Rich has been there, and the tenor of his article is how to incrementally build trust over time through consistent, clearly communicated actions—and the value of "transparency" with critical information.
For example, Rich uses the hypothetical of a firm’s CFO telling the COO three months before year-end that revenue will miss projections by 3% and partner incomes will miss by 10%. What to do? First of all, of course, stress-test the projections; understand why the CFO has come up with the numbers they have so you don’t go off half-cocked. But assuming the numbers hold up:
"go directly to the managing partner and say, in effect, “We have a problem, and we need to get word out to partners right away.”
Trust is built through experience."
Another hypothetical of Rich’s is hair-raising: Suppose one of the firm’s younger partners fails to appear in court on the first day of a major trial. What on earth could that have to do with trust? (Aside from its betrayal by the young partner, that is.)
In a low-trust environment, where there is little or no tolerance for "second chances," the partner would presumably be shown the door at once. But suppose calling his home reveals that he’s been missing for a few days and has in fact checked himself into a residential substance-abuse program—and that it’s his first offense. If you as firm chair are serious about establishing a more trusting environment, you need to use this occasion to show that the firm will treat people with compassion. So—as soon as you’ve made sure the trial is covered!—tell the young partner and his family that the firm will support, and indeed require, his completing treatment and staying clean and sober, but that one more offense will be "lights out."
The message? While a firm and non-negotiable line has been drawn (zero second offenses), you’ve also demonstrated concern about this individual’s welfare and that of his family. Don’t think people won’t pick up on it.
Finally, Rich explores the hypothetical of two of the firm’s "most valued" sixth-year associates receiving offers from a competitor to join as partners—but under your policy they could not be considered at your firm for at least another year.
Again, in a low-trust environment, this type of situation is exactly what we have policies for: To remove discretion and enforce uniformity. In that case, the associates are gone.
But if you’re striving to communicate, "We trust each other," you have discretion, because the exercise of your judgment should, as a default position, be trusted. And if that’s the case, you have the freedom to decide whether to extend an offer of early partnership or a promise of partnership one year hence. Have you thus made an "exception," with no telling who else is next going to ask for what kind of exception? In a crabbed and narrow (and distrustful) way, it can surely be so construed. I prefer to believe you’ve demonstrated discernment, and displayed the firm’s commitment to treating people as individuals. I bet Rich would say the same.
