Pandemic IX: Law firm transformation

Someone asked me the other day my opinion on where the pandemic is taking the legal profession, given my status as a “legal futurist.” I’ve never much liked that term and have never used it to describe myself, so I was happy to reply, “You know, I think we’re done talking about ‘the future.’ There’s not much point anymore. The future’s here.”

SARS-CoV-2 has convulsed the world and created extreme uncertainty in every facet of our lives, such that there are few benefits of trying to predict, today, what the world will look like after the crisis ends. Predictions based on what data? Relying on how much evidence?

We can make educated guesses and we can map out various scenarios, and I don’t want to discourage those attempts. But we know less than 10% of what we’ll eventually know about this disease and its impact on humanity. We’re in a whiteout blizzard; we need to wait for the storm to ease a little before we can start to make out the unfamiliar terrain around us.

What I’ve instead striven to provide in this series is not so much prediction as prescription: Here’s what we can do right now to get through the initial onslaught of the storm, and here’s what we should do to start building better structures and systems to replace the ones that won’t make it through to the other side. I don’t think we should expect more of ourselves than that, at least until the outlines of our situation become clearer.

In today’s entry, the second-last in this series, I’m not even going to do much prescription, because been there, did that. I’ve spent much of the last 10 years recommending a new purpose and business model for law firms — as you might know, I wrote a book on the subject almost three years ago.Law is a Buyers Market - book cover thumbnail

So the first thing I’m doing today is making that book — Law Is A Buyer’s Market — essentially free for anyone who wants it. The hard-copy version is out of print, but you can download the PDF right here and distribute it as widely as you want. You can also still buy the Kindle version at Amazon, where I’ve reduced the price to US$2.99, the lowest Amazon will allow.

Secondly, I’m going to provide links to articles about law firm strategy and management that I’ve written in those intervening three years. You can consider these links to collectively constitute a de facto second edition of the book, or additional chapters that I would have included had they been written before the book was published.

    1. Clients. How can we prioritize our clients’ interests above all else? How to improve our law firm client experience and Is our law firm fulfilling its purpose?
    2. Service. How can we measure and improve our client service? A simple measurement of client value and As good as it gets?
    3. Business Model. How should we reconfigure the business of our firm? Rethinking law firm productivity measurement and Break the law firm business model
    4. Practice Groups. How do we manage our practice and industry groups? Law firms’ shopping mall problem
    5. Partners. How do I manage my powerful partners? Who really owns our law firm? and Don’t fear the rainmaker
    6. Associates. How should we rethink our associates and talent development? The revenue-neutral associate and Law firm culture and the “war for talent”
    7. Pricing. How should we price our services? The problem with value pricing and The rise of market pricing
    8. Compensation. How should we (not) compensate lawyers? How compensation plans are wrecking law firms
    9. Diversity. How do we completely change our approach to diversity? Law firms’ problem with women
    10. Technology. How should we incorporate AI into our firm? Getting over technology and Thinking differently about legal AI
    11. Innovation. How can I encourage more innovation in the firm? Faster horses and What will lawyers do now?
    12. Collaboration. How can I encourage more collaboration in the firm? The reality of collaboration and The price of collaboration
    13. Culture. How do we strengthen our law firm’s culture? Re-personalizing law firm culture
    14. Wellness. How can we ensure our lawyers’ wellness? Crushed and How to make less money
    15. Change Management. How can I lead change in my firm? Changing the lawyer assessment system and How to bring about change in law firms
    16. Future. How do we plan for our firm’s future? We’re here for a good time, not a long time and Fight the future
    17. The Big Picture. What does the really big picture look like for law firms? The cause of, and solution to and The new legal economy

And thirdly, in the balance of this post, I’m going to share with you my early thoughts about how this pandemic and its aftermath will eventually change the nature of law firms of all sizes, especially large full-service firms.

To be clear, this isn’t a prediction about the future of law firms — we don’t have nearly enough data yet. Nor is it a deeply detailed blueprint for the completely transformed law firm — I’m still working out what that might look like, and when I finally do, the result will probably be a major standalone article rather than a blog post. But I think I can delineate the outlines of one possible “future law firm” at this stage:

The thing about law firms is that they have always been home to two warring forces: the interests of the firm, and the interests of the firm’s individual partners. I wrote about this idea years ago here at Law21, and it constituted a cornerstone concept of Law Is A Buyer’s Market.

The interests of the firm include growing the business of the firm as a whole, building strong relationships with clients, amassing a powerful knowledge and data core, developing standalone lines of revenue independent from individual lawyers, and other goals consistent with making the firm as a business entity more capable, independent, and dominant in its chosen markets.

For the most part, the interests of individual partners run counter to these goals.

  • Whereas the firm wants to strengthen ties to key clients, so as to reduce the risk that the client might someday depart the firm along with their relationship partner, the partner wants the opposite: weak ties with the firm that virtually oblige the client to follow the partner wherever they might go.
  • Whereas the firm wants the partner to cross-sell the services of their colleagues in order to generate more business, the partner wants to avoid any risk that the cross-sold lawyer will disappoint the client (bad) or absolutely delight the client (maybe worse).
  • Whereas the firm wants consistency of retainers, communication, pricing, and billing, in order to maximize brand value, the partner wants complete autonomy to run their business the way they want, and to keep the firm brand from overshadowing their own.
  • Whereas the firm wants to grow overall revenue and profits, so that a rising tide will lift all boats, the partner doesn’t care all that much whether anyone else’s boat floats a little higher or lower, because the partner is concerned with only one vessel: their own.

You could think of these opposing forces as “centripetal,” or centralizing (the firm tries to strengthen the forces that pull key elements of the firm towards the centre), versus “centrifugal,” or decentralizing (the partners react against these efforts by asserting their own autonomy, keeping firm management within tight boundaries, and threatening to fly the coop if they don’t like how things are going).

Now, as you already know if you’ve worked in a law firm anytime during the last 30 years, individual partners have been winning the war against their firms so thoroughly that they look like the Harlem Globetrotters wiping the floor with the Washington Generals. Centrifugal > centripetal, and it hasn’t been close.

But the other premise of my book was that after countless years of ignominious defeats, the law firm as an entity was mounting a comeback. Driven by factors such as dedicated and professional leadership, the unstoppable rise of technology, and the growing power of a dominant and differentiated brand, firm managers and leaders were starting to assert more control over individual partners and enabling their firms to act more institutionally than they ever had.

And there was reason to think that the comeback was accelerating. As firms set up more subsidiaries, created more R&D functionalities, and brought in more technology-powered client-facing sources of revenue that they controlled and directed centrally, rather than being dependent on individual partners, the firm’s power base would grow and those centripetal forces would become stronger.

That was the theory, at least — a pretty good one, if you ask me. And I still think that for many types of legal service providers, that’s the model that will eventually win out. But the pandemic has exploded onto this battlefield, and in the initial stages at least, it is lending its strength to the centrifugal, decentralizing forces within law firms.

Consider some of the early impacts and likely knock-on effects of the pandemic:

  • At the most basic level, physical distancing requires everybody in the firm to stay away from each other, working from home and connecting only by audio and video, thereby weakening the ties that everyday physical proximity help to bind.
  • As lawyers work from home, carry out tasks, and docket their time, it becomes ever clearer to both the lawyers and the firm that billable legal work can be carried out without the firm’s active presence or involvement. Lawyers are busy; the firm is dark.
  • In a crisis situation, decisions frequently have to be made on the spot with limited consultation opportunities. Lawyers really don’t like this, but they’re doing it — and as they do it successfully, their sense of autonomy and independence grows stronger.
  • Firms are unlikely to press their lawyers to maximize billings during a pandemic, reducing the relentless pressure most lawyers experience. Lawyers will see that this and other supposedly “impossible” changes turned out to be possible after all, and they will remember it.
  • As physical distancing relaxes or becomes less frequent as the pandemic slowly runs its painful course, a certain percentage of partners are not going to return to their offices — they’ll have made alternative arrangements that they prefer, and they will not be told when and where to go to work.
  • Other lawyers and staff will follow these partners’ lead, and firms will increasingly find themselves with vacant offices in expensive high-rises. In an effort to cut their losses, they will downsize their physical footprint or convert unused offices and cubicles into high-tech conference spaces.
  • Satellite offices in suburban parts of the city will soon start to spring up, where partners in a practice or industry group gather their associates and support staff. These groups had long been firms’ true power centres, and physical independence will strengthen them further.
  • Law firm headquarters will become home to senior management, a few aging traditionalists, and client meeting areas. In an effort to maintain presence and relevance, these HQs will also host training academies for new hires and fully staffed R&D divisions to develop new client-facing products.
  • Within three short years of the pandemic’s arrival, then, law firms could change from highly centralized collections of disparate lawyers sharing a common space and culture to hub-and-spoke arrays of high-powered legal experts held together by a valuable brand and not much else.

Again, this is just one possible path forward among many, and I want to keep these possibilities deliberately vague at this stage, because the absence of meaningful data about our current situation and immediate future renders any attempt at prediction little more than speculation.

But any one of these paths forward could spawn multiple second- and third-order effects. There’s no obvious reason, for instance, why one of these satellite offices could not be embedded onsite with a major client, or why any law firm so decentralized should bother maintaining the traditional full suite of service areas with widely varying client types and profitability levels. And what about multi-disciplinary workforces? What about non-lawyer ownership? Both of these innovations are much nearer today than they were just two short months ago.

So I invite you to use the foregoing thought exercise to consider how this pandemic — a shattering force of chaos, anxiety, dissension, fragmentation, and isolation — is likely to forever alter the trajectory of law firm transformation. Which existing virtues of law firms will the pandemic undermine? Which elements of discord will it aggravate? Or, if you prefer to approach the question more optimistically, which positive aspects will it encourage and which negative tendencies will it ameliorate?

Or — and we have to consider the possibility — will the impact of the worst worldwide health emergency in more than 100 years, coupled with a potentially Depression-scale economic contraction on a dangerously interdependent planet, simply blow “the law firm model” to pieces? And if so, what do we do next?

I don’t have answers to any of these questions yet — I’m still trying to work out the right questions to ask. My book, the foregoing links, and these last three posts are the best advice I can currently give to law firms about their eventual future state.

But I remain confident that if we can keep our core principles about the professional business of legal service, the well-being of our colleagues and employees, and the interests of our clients firmly and foremost in mind throughout this ordeal, we’ll do okay. Maybe a whole lot better than okay, in fact.

And one last piece of advice: Stay connected with each other. This pandemic, like I said, is a shattering force of dissension, and it aims to both literally and figuratively drive us apart from each other, to divide us and isolate us. In that regard, it has plenty of allies, especially in certain governments.

Whatever the merits of centrifugal force in law firms might be, I urge you to resist its rupturing and fragmenting effect in your communities and in our society. We are better together, stronger together, and strange as it might seem, healthier together. No one individual can stop COVID-19. But one whole planet can — and will.

Pandemic VIII: Law firm transitions

My previous post in this series offered lawyers four suggestions for carrying out triage during these first several weeks of the pandemic. Perhaps you’ve considered those ideas, maybe adopted one or two in your law business, and hopefully have seen a few early indications that they’ll have some value.

But regardless of the methods you’ve been using to keep your law business going through the early days of this crisis, you can’t triage indefinitely. At some point, as everybody gets a little more oriented to the chaos around us, you’ll need to turn your mind to some short- and medium-term ways to solidify your law business throughout the pandemic and start transitioning your firm to the next stage of its development. That’s what I hope to tackle in this post.

I want to be clear at the start about time frames and expectations. It’s been about three weeks since I began this series with an assessment of the public-health crisis presented by SARS-CoV-2 and its implications. During that time, most countries have “bent their curve” somewhat, but only a few have flattened it, and some (like the US and Britain) sometimes appear to be aiming for the opposite effect. The chances of a quick resolution to the pandemic were always slim, but outside of a few forward-thinking and fast-acting places like South Korea and New Zealand, they now appear to be none.

So I think this is what you should probably expect: The pandemic has at least another 12 to 18 months to run before a vaccine is developed and eventually deployed. During this time, we should anticipate a deep and wide global recession compounded by rolling lockdowns, supply chain breakdowns, waves of debilitating illness, and a few potential outlier occurrences that aren’t worth serious contemplation. Actual events could take a sunnier-than-expected turn, for which we would all be grateful; but prudence would suggest assuming a less-than-optimal course ahead of us and planning accordingly.

What we’re entering, then, is kind of a “siege” period, to be followed by a long and slow recovery as we edge towards a new post-pandemic economy and society. I have no idea how long either of these periods will last, but depending on your type of work, I would operate on the assumption that a significant portion of what you’d consider your “ordinary course of business” work will be suspended for some time to come. I would go further, in fact, and build into your calculations the likelihood that although some of that work should return in the new world, a pretty decent chunk of it will not.

Nobody knows when this will be “over.” But most everyone agrees that the world we wake up to on that day will be markedly, maybe even radically different than the one we inhabited before this all started. There is no “normal” to get back to anymore. The market in which you used to sell legal services is gone, and the one that eventually replaces it — the new, new legal economy — will be sufficiently different that how you ran your business before is not how you’ll run your business then.

Therefore, both for the short- and the medium-term, you need to start making some adjustments to your law business. The sooner you start, the sooner you’ll figure out which adjustments to abandon and which to keep, and to get better at the latter. Here are eight potential adjustments for your consideration, some for immediate deployment, others for further down the road.

1. Narrow or drop your ancillary work. I expect that in your law business, as in most businesses everywhere, the adage “80% of your revenue comes from 20% of your clients, and vice versa” applies. Now might be the time to finally clear out some or much of the 80% of your work that generates just 20% of your revenue. Unless that 80% includes a burgeoning area of practice that you’ve just launched and that you reasonably anticipate will survive the pandemic, this category was contributing little to your bottom line two months ago and is now probably a break-even distraction at best. In a crisis, you need to focus on essentials.

Review your last 18-24 months of financial statements and look for that 80-20 split, seeking out the backbone and beating heart of your revenue and profitability in the 20% — most likely, either a few major clients or a few select practice areas, and prioritize them. Obviously, if one of your major clients just filed for bankruptcy, don’t include it on the critical list — but do look for similar businesses in its industry that you could target, or even better, stay in touch with the principal to see if you can assist with her own transition. The range and capacity of your law business (along with your personal bandwidth) have been restricted by the pandemic; you should narrow your own focus in turn.

2. Start a government benefits practice. In an economic meltdown like this, when private businesses shut their doors and the state starts sending people money to live on, it suddenly becomes very important to know how to access government benefit programs. Unfortunately, such programs are often labyrinthine and user-hostile even at the best of times, which these are decidedly not. People have a dire and immediate need to navigate these systems, but many aren’t in a position to fully access them.

So you could become known as the go-to (or at least, a go-to) expert in your area concerning the sorts of benefits people are entitled to receive, under what circumstances they can be accessed, and how to actually navigate all the obstacles and red tape to obtain them. Many clients might be glad to have a lawyer handle the whole process for them for an affordable flat fee. If you get enough business of this type and develop robust routines for accessing benefits, you could even automate, scale, and expand the geographic scope of this work beyond your region.

3. Take on the government as a client. The flip side of the previous coin is that the government (federal, state/provincial, and municipal) is going to be taking on many more responsibilities in the next year or two. This includes not just making financial payments, but also issuing health-care directives, criminalizing (or de-criminalizing) certain activities, vastly increasing taxing powers (all that benefit money has to come from somewhere), and so forth. But few government legal departments have anywhere near the capacity for this type of mandate expansion.

Enter your law business: Working on a contract or agency basis, for a reasonable monthly fee, you could take on many legal aspects of the increased government role. Don’t underestimate the potential here: Although nobody wants and few people seriously expect another Great Depression, remember how much the role of the government expanded with the New Deal in the 1930s. It is plausible that a Green New Deal, or variations in other countries, might be in the works a year from now. Your law business could start today to develop the relationships needed to get some of that work.

4. Become a business conversion expert. Auto manufacturers making ventilators? Liquor companies making hand sanitizer? Clothing stores making masks? Even if some of these stories are a little over-sold, the fact is that many businesses whose usual customer base has disappeared during this crisis are trying to shift gears to meet rapidly rising pandemic-driven demand in other areas. But there’s more involved in this kind of strategy than just the mechanical and procedural adjustments (which are all difficult enough). There’s also the legal aspects.

Businesses attempting to switch their production lines virtually overnight need rapid assistance with obtaining permits, getting environmental clearances, acquiring export licenses, getting employees trained and licensed, and so on — and you could be their legal counsel. You might even use your experiences here to start a series of podcasts or webinars in which you advise businesses considering such transitions about the issues they need to deal with, thereby creating potential clients in a whole new market for legal services that you’ve effectively invented.

5. Form a Mastermind group. Maybe you’ve already heard of Mastermind groups, helpfully defined by Wikipedia as “peer-to-peer mentoring groups used to help members solve their problems with input and advice from the other group members.” The concept is nearly 100 years old — interestingly, it was first coined shortly before the Wall Street crash of 1929. But Mastermind groups have become popular recently as a forum in which several people rely on each other for insights and directions, usually in a business context.

Why would this matter to you? Because Mastermind groups need a facilitator — someone who gathers the members together, conducts or leads the conversations, ensures that everyone gets a chance to say their piece, offers timely advice and insight, and keeps the conversations motoring along. Think about clients who share a common industry or personal issue, whether it’s CEOs or newly divorced parents. Think about Zoom meetings where they share their worries and solutions in a safe and confidential environment, hosted by a trusted advisor who charges them a monthly fee to organize and run their meetings. Now could be just the moment to try this out.

6. Do as much as you can on a flat-fee basis. Your clients, I’ll assume, have never liked being billed by the hour. I’d venture a guess that you and the other lawyers around you don’t love it, either. But you’ve all felt like you were stuck with it. Right now is your opportunity to finally change that — to run an experiment in real time to see whether flat-fee billing is practical, viable, and profitable. As I discussed in the previous post, offer to set up informal arrangements with your clients to do what you can for them in exchange for a digitally deposited monthly fee. You should get at least a few takers.

Continue to record the time you spend on these files, but only for your own internal review. Make contemporaneous notes about how productive you feel when working “off the clock.” At the end of each month, run the numbers on the flat-fee work and compare it to the hourly billed files. Which generated more revenue and profit? Which did you enjoy more? Which rewarded you for getting the job done faster and moving to the next thing? How did the client feel? How could you make the flat-fee work more profitable? Some legal tasks in the future, to be sure, will still be done hourly; but much of what lawyers do will be flat-fee. Start training your law business for this future now.

7. Build social capital. Even with all these activities and other billable work, odds are you’ll still have some professional time to fill. Now might therefore be an opportunity to build your social capital by reaching out to other members of your community, both legal and otherwise, and help to “produce public goods for a common good.” In a pandemic, there’ll be no shortage of ways in which you can meet local needs, help the less fortunate, create community value, and strengthen your networks of relationships. You do these things, of course, because it’s the right thing to do, especially in a crisis. But there are tangible long-term benefits to your law business, too.

In his terrific new book Lawyer Forward, Mike Whelan explains the meaning of social capital in the legal sector context. “The problem with the modern world is that we tend to ignore just how connected we all are,” he writes. “When we resist the isolating pressure of the traditional law firm model and instead connect with our communities, we’re creating opportunities for cooperation. That may look like friendship, or lawyer-client relationships, or leadership. However you build your social capital, you’re gathering a cooperative tribe.” Find your tribe and seek out opportunities to contribute to it, and perhaps even to lead it.

8. Put your employees on the innovation file. Even if every one of these suggestions pans out, you might still have under-utilized people at your firm, especially junior lawyers or support staff. The answer, as we discussed in the last post, is not to lay them off. It’s to get them busy modernizing your law business so that it’s ready for the post-COVID world. So put these people in charge of the following projects (if your business hasn’t taken these steps already) and have them report their progress to you on a monthly basis:

  • Enable electronic billing and payment
  • Move all your documents and data to the cloud
  • Refresh your website content in light of the pandemic
  • Investigate technology for carrying out basic legal tasks
  • Revise your internal processes for greater efficiency
  • Assemble detailed client intelligence databases
  • Run the numbers to calculate client and practice profitability

Many of these items might have been sitting on your “I Probably Should Do That Someday” list, but you and your people were too busy to get around to it. Well, today is Someday. Just as is the case with flat-fee pricing, all the foregoing elements are not going to be competitive advantages in the next legal market — they’re going to be business as usual. You need to be 100% ready to roll out a modern, 21st-century law business when the pandemic finally ends and a different legal world emerges. You can’t put off starting that process until the all-clear is finally given — this is one curve you need to be ahead of.

The reality is, there are a lot of ups and downs ahead of us. Lockdowns will be relaxed, then reinstated when it becomes clear we ventured back outside too soon. Illness will sweep through your own family or workplace, if it hasn’t already, shunting everything else to one side. In this extremely volatile environment, significant political, economic or environmental incidents will generate impacts far beyond what would normally be the case. Everyone is on an emotional roller-coaster ride of unknown duration, and as you and I can both testify, that wears us all down sooner or later.

So my final thought is to remember that no matter how important our work might seem to us, it’s not life. “Work-life balance” was always an insidious term that invited us to view these two concepts as opposing sides of the same coin. But life is a multi-faceted cube, not a coin, and work is just one side. Take a deep breath and remember: Everyone is in the same boat. Nobody has all the answers, and we’re all making mistakes every day as we plow into utterly uncharted territory. And that’s okay.

We’re on a long road to somewhere brand new, and we can’t see the end of it — but I guarantee you, there is an end to it, and we will get there. Set out on that road with patience, generosity of spirit, plenty of forgiveness, and a desire to make things a little better at each turn. Before you know it, you’ll have a large group of followers around you. Because that’s how you lead people through a crisis.

Pandemic VII: Law firm essentials

So, what about law firms? What will the pandemic and its associated economic crisis do to private practitioners of law? Well, first we need to separate out the two law firm sectors: larger firms with mostly corporate and institutional clients, and smaller firms (including solos) with mostly individual and small-business clients.

Perhaps surprisingly to some, I’m not going to spend much time on large firms or the AmLaw 200. As a group, they have large full-time professional management teams, and they’re diversified enough that at least one or two of their revenue engines are still working even in this crisis. Most importantly, they have immense amounts of cushion: When the average partner at your firm takes home half a million a year, or twice that, or four times that, you don’t have existential concerns. You have profit-distribution issues, sure, and some challenges around shareholder expectations, but those are textbook examples of “nice problems to have.”

Maybe more to the point, there are plenty of people out there offering advice to this segment of the market and covering their challenges in detail, and I see no need to add to that. But smaller firms don’t get that level of attention (with some noteworthy exceptions), and speaking generally, their challenges are greater and more urgent. So I’ll focus the balance of my remarks on this sector, with occasional reference to larger firms insofar as it might be helpful.

The pattern of these posts so far has been to identify the existing fault lines in a given part of the legal economy and talk about how the pandemic has struck and caused irreparable damage along those fault lines. But the cracks in the law firm model is a subject I’ve been writing about here at Law21 for more than 10 years, and I don’t see much point in rehashing it now. Sometime next week, I’ll put together a collection of my posts advising how to build a better law firm model and post that for people to review if they like.

So the primary focus of this post will be: What can smaller law firms do, right now, to deal with the impact of this unprecedented global crisis? My advice is to focus on the absolute essentials, so what follows is going to be very stripped-down and basic. (Okay, it’s 3,000 words long, so it’s not that stripped down, but still.)

I’d suggest thinking of this challenge in terms of four concentric circles, moving from innermost to outermost, and dealing with each circle in turn — as you secure one, you can move out to the next one. If I could draw, I’d include an illustration of how the fourth circle bends back to support the previous three, but I have no such skills. so you’ll have to imagine it. Sorry.

First Circle: You. Nobody else’s welfare is more critical to address at the start of this process than you, the lawyer. Doesn’t matter if you’re a true solo, if you have a few partners and employees, or even if you’re in a mega-firm — you cannot serve clients or put out fires or do anything to help anyone else unless you have done what you can to solidify yourself. You, personally, are the cornerstone of you, professionally. Deal with yourself first.

It bears repeating: We are in a global pandemic. Millions of people worldwide are going to die from the COVID-19 virus in the next two years. The global economy is going to experience contractions and convulsions on a scale most of us have never seen. That’s reality, it’s horrific, and it intrudes on our consciousness overtly and covertly multiple times a day. It’s an ongoing trauma that distresses you and steals your peace of mind whether you notice it or not.

So even though your inbox is constantly pinging and people are calling or knocking at your door, even though your kids are at home and loudly protesting their online learning sessions — even though you feel like everybody needs a piece of you right now, call time out.

Take some foundational steps to secure your emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being. Get 30 minutes of exercise a day if permitted and possible, walking around your block or neighbourhood, ideally getting some sun and Vitamin D. Pray or meditate for 10 minutes once a day, morning or evening (or both, if you can). Avoid doomsurfing. Eat as well as you can; if you drink alcohol, cut back sharply. If you feel like crying, do it. If you have people nearby you can hug, do it, often.

This is not selfishness; this is solidifying the foundation of your personal and professional life, so that you have the capacity to do what else needs to be done. You’re a human being going through incredible stress — recognize, acknowledge, and accept that you will be buffeted and damaged by this storm. The strongest people are those who accept themselves as they are when they’re weakened and damaged, and then shore themselves up as needed.

Second Circle: Your Professional Dependents. I wish I could come up with a better term for this one, but my nomenclature skills have been among the first to desert me. I’m speaking here of the people whose livelihoods depend on or are in a substantial way affected by your law business. That would include employees like secretaries, law clerks, paralegals, receptionists, and associates; it could also include, in a more distant way, more independent players like junior partners or freelance researchers or the communications firm to whom you’ve outsourced your marketing.

Now, these people are not (in most cases) your children or blood relatives, and you’re not responsible for their lives. But they depend on the law business you run to support their own lives to a greater or lesser extent, and they’ve been worrying since the onset of this crisis whether you’re going to cut their pay, cut their hours, or cut them loose altogether. If you haven’t addressed them openly about this yet, today is not too late to do it.

You might not have any bad news at all, of course. The nature of your law business might be such that you’re swamped with client inquiries and billable work, and if so, great — your challenge here will be getting the productivity and performance you need from people who also are deeply stressed by the crisis and who might have family members or close friends in hospital. But even then, many clients will not be in a position to pay you in full or on time. And in all other cases, there simply won’t be as much work as you’ve had in the past.

Opinions will differ here, and the right call will always depend on your particular circumstances. But generally, I believe that you should do whatever you can to shelter these people from the storm and absorb at least some of its fury. Keep them on payroll as long as you can; if you must reduce their pay, cut it by less than what you expect your own earnings to suffer; if you absolutely must lay them off, help them access all available government subsidies for people in their situation. Look after them as best as you reasonably can.

Don’t go about this process by yourself and then announce your decisions to them — get them involved, in one-on-one conversations (you almost certainly can’t do it in person, but a video call is far preferable to a phone conversation here). Be honest and transparent about the situation, ask them to be equally open about their own needs and situations, and talk it all out. Help them determine the nature, timing, and length of any reductions you need to make. Give them agency in this process — they deserve it.

Equally importantly, if you do need to cut back or even cut out their contribution, check in on them regularly to the extent possible. Ask how they are, how their family is doing, do they have relatives who are ill or quarantined, is there anything they need that you can help them with? In many cases, these people will be more vulnerable than you are and they live closer to the edge. Make sure they know that if the edge gets too close, they can call on you.

Obviously there are retention and recruitment advantages to behaving in this manner — you’ll earn unquantifiable amounts of loyalty and positive word of mouth by being a great boss in this crisis.  But the reason you’re doing it is simply because that’s what good people do — what leaders do — in a crisis when others look to them and rely on them for guidance and assistance and strength.

Third Circle: Your Clients. I suppose that this is functionally the same as saying “Your Business,” because looking after one means looking after the other. But clients and your relationships with them are the heart and soul of your law business, and you should start there.

Right now is when you should be doubling down on your most important client relationships. Reach out to these clients (or if it’s a business or organization, the key contact(s) within the client) and ask, first of all, “How are you?” And mean it. And listen closely to the answer. This one action alone will set you apart from most people in the client’s professional life, and maybe quite a few on the personal side. (If you have numerous clients of roughly equal value, send these questions in an email and ask those who can or wish to reply.)

Then ask, “How can I help you? And I don’t just mean with legal problems — what’s really worrying you? What’s heaviest on your mind? Maybe I can find someone to help.” Or better again, depending on how the client has answered the previous question, say, “I think I can help you with that situation.” It’s more effective to offer specific assistance than ask about general needs.

I want to emphasize the part about “not just legal.” Most clients, if their lawyer offers to help, will assume “legal help” is meant, and they will probably imagine a very narrow range of activities and say no, I’m fine. But as access-to-justice studies have shown us, people often don’t know that a given problem has a legal angle and a legal solution. So ask, open-ended, what’s causing you anxiety or concern? And even if their worries have no legal angles, maybe you know someone who can help them anyway.

In a crisis like this, we remember the people who didn’t wait for us to call them — they reached out to us, they genuinely inquired after our welfare, they offered to do anything to help, and they were sincere. That’s how you further secure and deepen your client relationships — that’s platinum currency. Clients generally stay put in a crisis. But whether they stay afterwards depends on what firms do during it.

There are two other obvious benefits here. One is that it’s an opportunity to ask about which ongoing or upcoming legal matters can be put aside or adjusted in light of the crisis, and that will help you triage and prioritize your own to-do list, which you absolutely need to do. But the other, and more important one, is that it helps generate payable activity. And that brings us to the fourth circle.

Fourth Circle: Cash. I’ve left this category for last because logistically and chronologically, it’s the last item to be looked after — but in terms of importance, it might as well be first. You need to get money flowing into your firm, as soon as possible, with some degree of regularity or predictability. You might be in great emotional health and in the running for  “Boss of the Year” and the apple of your clients’ eye — but if your firm runs out of cash, none of that matters.

I want to be clear about just how difficult it might prove to be to get cash into your firm. The economy is in ruins. Real unemployment is certainly in double digits, with some estimates suggesting 20% or 30% in the second quarter. Nearly 10 million Americans filed for unemployment benefits in the space of two weeks. Governments are providing benefits to many laid-off workers, but that money is mostly going to food and rent. Few small businesses are essential and most have closed. There’s a lot of law firms out there representing restaurants and dry cleaners and landscape companies and the like, and these businesses are on life support.

The average law firm bills clients for work roughly within 30 days of performance, and it gets paid roughly an average of 90 days later. Any unpaid invoices for work done since the start of the year are very likely sitting at the bottom of the pile of bills on your clients’ kitchen tables, and will be for some time to come. That suggests there’s a four-to-six-month gap coming up in your cashflow, and few firms can endure that without significant damage, or worse.

So you should think about doing two things. One is to speed up the process by which you get paid. If you don’t have electronic payments or credit card payments or other online payment systems set up, well, a pandemic is really not a great time to do it. But you need to shorten the turnaround time and lessen the hassle of getting client money into your bank. Find an online payment provider that works with the legal profession to set you up. I’ve heard good things about LawPay, and I’m sure Clio would be happy to help. If you’re really stuck, call your nearest bar association or practice advisor and ask them to help.

The other is connected with those client conversations I mentioned. Near the end of those discussions, raise the matter of payments. You are running a business and you have every right and every necessity to broach the subject with clients, awkward as it might make you feel. But there are ways to make it easier. Here’s my suggestion.

Offer your clients a “crisis billing arrangement.” For any matters arising in any way out of the pandemic and recession, your firm will bill no hours — instead, the client will pay a special monthly “pandemic flat rate,” on the lower end of your billing scale, with a unique billing code that all timekeepers can use for these matters.

You can, if you wish, apply this rate to everything you do for every client, but you don’t need to. If you’re working on a pre-existing matter for the client, or on a matter separate and apart from the crisis, you can specify that the usual billing and rates apply — but everything else is done under the “emergency arrangement,” paid automatically online on the first of every month directly to your bank.

I suggest that you not try to set limits on the amount of work you’ll do under the pandemic flat rate — that could blunt its effectiveness and put a chill on the conversation. Instead, tell the client that some months will be busier and others will be lighter and they’ll even out over time — but if unexpectedly, the amount of work starts heavy and gets heavier than anticipated, you’ll call the client back and raise it and talk about adjusting the rate to reflect the extensive good work you’re doing. (And if the work starts light and gets lighter, call the client and reduce the amount unilaterally.)

There are two broad reasons to do this. One, of course, is that it gets cash in the door, every month, at a vastly accelerated rate — you have guaranteed income and you can plan out your own payments accordingly. It also makes timekeeping and billing much easier, especially with most lawyers working from home, where they tend to docket less frequently anyway. For all you know, both clients and lawyers might prefer this method and will keep it even after the crisis ends, in which case your cashflow situation steadies permanently.

And the other reason is that it strengthens the client relationship through honesty and openness — you treated the client like an adult who understands very well how difficult life is for everyone.  And when you set a lower-than-normal rate, it shows the client that you’re not out to make money off this crisis or bleed the client at a time when it’s also running short on cash (as everyone is) — you’re only looking to keep the wheels turning so that everyone can get through this in one piece.

= = = = = = = = = = =

This was a great many words to say a fairly straightforward thing: In a crisis, you learn very quickly what really matters. To my mind, what matters to your law business are:

  • you, the lawyer;
  • the people who depend on you;
  • the clients on whom you depend; and
  • the cash that keeps your business breathing.

Your bandwidth and your window of attention have probably gotten much smaller lately. I know mine have. So I want to urge you against undertaking massive renovations to your law firm business model at this time. My previous posts about the court system and the lawyer formation process both emphasized short-term triage activities before turning to big-picture issues. But complex legal systems have many stakeholders who can lend a hand. You have very few.

So focus on the essentials. Take care of yourself and those close to you. Stay in touch with your clients and do as much as you can for them. Ensure a steady flow of cash into your business so that it can live to serve another day. And at the end of each day, be at peace that you’ve done what you could as a lawyer, and be with your family and support network. We’re all in this together. And together is how we’ll all get out of it.

How to make less money

I can’t tell you how many times a law firm leader has said to me recently, “Jordan, we’re simply making too much money. We’ve got a profit epidemic on our hands, and frankly, it’s causing some serious damage to the fabric of our firm. Something has to be done about it.”

Just the other day, in fact, there I was in my local fair-trade coffee shop, sipping organically roasted java with the powerful leaders of three immensely profitable BigLaw firms. They clutched their artisanal ceramic mugs tensely, lines of worry creasing their brows.

“I’m really concerned about how much money my firm is making,” confessed the managing partner. “We broke into the AmLaw 50 a couple of years ago, and I just learned to my dismay that we moved a few spots higher this year. Half the partners in my firm — including me! — made more than $1.6 million last year. Can you believe it? I’ve got a B.Comm. and a J.D. from a top-14 law school, yet despite that flimsy track record of intellect and success, I’m going to make insane amounts of money again this year. I can’t offer any excuse — it just happened. But I need to find a way to staunch the fountain of dollars.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” said the chief administrative officer. “Even lower in the AmLaw 200, we’re in the same boat, and it’s having some serious negative effects. The partners have become obsessed with nonsensical metrics like PPP and look jealously at lawyers in higher-ranked firms. I’m reluctant to admit it, but some of them are even putting their own financial interests ahead of their clients’, pushing their juniors to stay late on evenings and weekends, billing every client-related thought. It really saddens me to see it, and there’s no denying that it all flows from these geysers of revenue.”

“It’s worse than you think,” said the AmLaw 100 senior rainmaker. “You should see the caliber of people who are applying to join our firm these days. Rapacious partners from other firms who want to be guaranteed higher profits than they’re making now. Mercenary law school graduates prepared to sacrifice their health and well-being for six-figure starting salaries. And every day, it seems, another lawyer comes skulking around my office wanting me to share my secrets. I have no secrets! My law school roommate became the GC of a pharmaceutical company; that’s why I own three Porsches. I’m an ordinary schmuck who was in the right place at the right time. But can I convince them of that? Not a chance.”

I held up my hands. “Ladies and gentleman, I understand completely,” I said. “And honestly, I have to shoulder some blame. I’ve spent the last ten years advising law firms how to be more innovative, productive, and client-focused. Of course I meant well. But how could I have failed to see that many firms would focus solely on how much more profitable my advice could make them? I’m as guilty as anyone of recklessly encouraging this mania. And it’s high time I made amends.”

But if you ask for a rise, it’s no surprise they’re giving none away.

So that’s why I’m writing this post, offering law firms my best advice on how to make less money and be less profitable. I recognize that it might be too little, too late for the current generation of senior lawyers, clutched inescapably in the claws of six- and seven-figure annual incomes. But maybe this advice will do some good for future lawyers who, against all expectations, somehow form the notion that law firms exist for some purpose other than generating truckloads of cash for their owners. In hopes that such a future might materialize, here are my suggestions.

1. Stop billing your junior associates’ time. For some of you, this will seem redundant: Your biggest corporate clients have already told you not to bother billing anything performed by first-or second-year associates, because they won’t pay for on-the-job training of unskilled workers. But many other clients haven’t written that memo yet, allowing their outside counsel to generate millions of dollars in low-quality revenue from youngsters who don’t know what they’re doing half the time. Those firms could easily reduce their revenue just by turning off those taps.

Some partners will object, of course. But you can point out that giving these lawyers real skills training, supervised non-billable client access, and one-on-one mentoring opportunities (all of which could helpfully reduce revenue from other lawyers) will not only remove brutal billing pressures on these associates, but will also accelerate their development, improve their morale and well-being, and increase their retainability. “Revenue-neutral associates” could pay for themselves, assuming you stopped overpaying for academic high-achievers from famous law schools and instead started recruiting future star lawyers from law schools all over the map.

First- and second-year lawyer billings are the empty calories of law firms: They give you a temporary high, but leave you feeling bloated and regretful afterwards while compromising your long-term health. Start cutting revenue right here.

2. Place limits on your lawyers’ annual billing totals. This goes for all your fee-earners, not just the rookies. Most firms institute minimum expectations for how many hours they expect lawyers to bill, and that’s fair. But they don’t institute maximums: there’s no limit to the number of hours lawyers can churn out, leaving a dangerous outlet through which lawyers’ workaholism and competitiveness can spiral up into an eruption of revenue. (And, for firms concerned about that kind of thing, widespread lawyer burnout.) Before you know it, industry commentators are mocking your firm for employing a lawyer who bills 4,200 hours a year.

A simple solution to this problem would be to effectively cap lawyers’ billable hours. Most firms can’t actually order partners to stop working past a certain number of hours, of course. But you can tell your lawyers that they will not receive any compensation for hours worked past a given number. “Feel free to bill 3,000 hours if you like, but we stop counting your hours at 1,800 when calculating your annual income.” Deprived of financial rewards for non-stop billing, many lawyers will ease off the gas pedal, planting an elegant disincentive at the root of your runaway revenue problem.

Well, really now, who doesn’t?

Revenue caps are difficult to impose from the outside, but with the right planning and execution, you can incentivize performers to install them from the inside. The end result for your firm: Not just less revenue, but also more predictable levels of revenue. Oh, and I guess healthier lawyers, too.

3. Increase your pro bono commitments. I admit, it’s difficult to keep lawyers from working. Like small children, they need something to occupy them; if you don’t watch them like hawks, they’ll wander off somewhere and start making money for you. So give them a way to do lawyer work without getting paid. Sounds like some crazy magical thinking? Not at all. That’s the beauty of pro bono publico work: Lawyers get to practise law and sharpen their skills while working for the public good, but without any of the attendant risks of unwanted revenue.

I’m sure your law firm already encourages its lawyers to perform pro bono legal work; but let’s be honest, we both know that the billable work always takes priority, financially and culturally. So you need to do more than just double your hourly pro bono expectations: you need to develop a culture in which lawyers genuinely feel that paid and unpaid hours are worth the same. That’s a long-term project, absolutely; but the sooner you start, the sooner you’ll see the benefits, and the likelier that you’ll bring about a permanent shift in how lawyers view the value and purpose of their time and efforts.

You might be thinking, “But we already provide legal support to the local opera house and the junior yacht club! What more can we do?” Here’s one suggestion: Have every litigator in your firm spend one day a month in their local family court, representing pro se parties who’ll lose child access or support if they go into court alone. Do good for people who will never be able to pay you back. You’ll make the world a better place, but far more importantly, you’ll make less money.

4. Give all your staff members a 15% raise. Despite your best efforts, the fact remains that it’s hard for law firms not to make money. Even in a highly competitive market and with increasingly cost-conscious clients, large law firms remain cash-printing machines. So in order to really take a bite out of profitability, you’ll also have to find ways to increase your costs. No, not by reverting to rampant inefficiency and the daily reinvention of wheels: Encouraging procedural sloppiness will kneecap your competitive strategy. You need to spend more money usefully.

An easy place to start is with your “non-lawyer” staff. I don’t know how much you’re paying your secretaries, law clerks, librarians, paralegals, marketers, IT people, etc. to labour inside your cash factories while having to deal with your lawyers day in and day out, but it’s almost certainly not enough. Give them all a 15% raise across the board; but don’t stop there. Cover daycare costs for employees with preschool kids. Extend medical, dental, and vision care benefits to their families. Find creative ways to spend money on your staff.

I grant that this will create unintended consequences, including happier employees, rising retention rates, higher-quality performance, and more qualified job applicants. Also, you’ll inadvertently pressure your competitors to match your raises while enjoying a PR bonus from adoring media coverage. But let’s keep our eye on the ball here. The point is to make less money, and this will help your firm move towards that goal.

5. Fund 100 full law school scholarships for underprivileged students every year. I know what you’re thinking: That’s not really going to make much of a dent in our revenue. And you’re right. Even at the highest-ranked law schools in the United States, the total cost of law school attendance is around $80,000 a year, or $240,000 for three years. Underwriting that cost for 100 students would generate an annual bill of $24 million.

That might sound significant to the casual observer. But let’s look at how much money law firms actually make. The entire AmLaw 100 generated $98,748,110,245 in revenue last year. (Yes, that’s $98 billion). I don’t have access to median revenue figures, but if you divide that total by 100, you’ll get an average revenue of $987,481,102 per firm. Subtracting $24 million from that total would lower revenue to $963,481,102 — a decrease of 2.4%. Firms would still retain 97.6% of their earnings, so no, this isn’t going to move the needle that much by itself.

But it’s a good start. And at least you can take solace that 100 deserving young people who’d never otherwise even dream of becoming lawyers will be able to attend law school every year, lifting up their communities and enhancing the legal profession in ways we can’t begin to imagine.

So there you have it: Five simple steps towards corralling your big law firm’s runaway revenue. But these steps can also be followed in proportion by smaller or regional law firms whose leaders are equally concerned that the single-minded pursuit of ever-more money and ever-more profit has transformed their firms from proud bastions of professional service into brutalizing pyramid schemes that enrich a small few at the expense of too many. Not that they’d necessarily put it in those exact terms.

As for my BigLaw friends, they rinsed out their mugs, tipped the barista, and trundled wearily out the door, already thinking of the burdens awaiting them in Accounts Receivable. I only hope their successors can use this advice to pull their firms back from the brink of death-by-revenue and to plot a course towards a future where law firms aren’t focused on profits above everything. We can but dream.

The next top model: Law firm edition

As you probably know, I wrote a book a couple of years ago strongly suggesting that the traditional law firm, shot through with various defects, is a poor fit for the new legal market and won’t survive competition from newer and better models for legal services. Smarter people than me have since asked: Okay, supposing you’re right about that — and we’ll know soon enough if you are or aren’t —  then what exactly is going to replace your much-maligned traditional law firm?

It’s a good question, and luckily for me, I’m not the only one pondering it. Managing partners, industry consultants, conference organizers, and venture capitalists have been kicking this one around for a few years now. The consensus answer, up to this point, has essentially been “something that’s not a law firm,” and there are plenty of candidates for consideration.

We’ve seen the emergence, over the past several years, of legal process outsourcers, legal technology platforms, flex-time and project lawyer companies, and managed legal services providers, These and other entities have collectively been grouped  under banners like “NewLaw,” “alternative legal services providers,” and the latest term, “law companies.” Together, they already represent about a US$10 billion slice of the legal market.

Most of these businesses share several common features, including:

  • corporate structure and governance,
  • investments of external funding,
  • extensive use of process and technology,
  • reliance on people who aren’t lawyers,
  • focus on efficiency and cost control, and
  • ability to leverage knowledge and data.

But you could more easily describe all these entities simply by saying that “they’re not law firms.” Because the characteristics of law firms are well-known: Lawyer-owned and -operated, expensive, elite, inefficient, lawyer-centric, risk-averse, kind of pretentious, and a little out of touch. Defining your new legal business by distancing yourself from these attributes is a pretty good way to get clients’ attention in a shifting market.

So it’s fashionable, and maybe even reasonable, to assume that traditional law firms will largely be replaced by their diametric opposites — the alternative legal business, the agile legal company, the AI-powered legal machine. I’m confident these businesses will secure a significant space for themselves in the new legal market, and I suppose it’s even possible that ALSPs and law companies will turn out to be the dominant species of legal services supplier in future.

But here’s another possibility. Maybe traditional law firms will be replaced not by law companies, but by law firms — radically different law firms, to be specific. Law firms that, while still lawyer-owned and -operated, are also:

  • efficient,
  • accessible,
  • progressive,
  • modernized,
  • collaborative, and
  • resolutely, enthusiastically client-first.

These won’t be old law firms with a fresh coat of innovation paint. They will be systematically distinct from old law firms, based on a whole new model, right down to their DNA.

I think there’s a place in the market for law firms like this — a really big place, in fact. And I want to find them. I want to identify, profile, and publicize law firms around the world that are — right now, today — throwing away the outdated attributes of their forebears while keeping the most important parts and adding new and better elements to their core function: allowing lawyers to truly meet clients’ most pressing and important legal needs.

In short, I want to conduct a search for the next law firm model. And I’d like you to help me.

Why should we do this? Three main reasons:

1. Tens of thousands of bright, hard-working lawyers worldwide, associates and partners alike, feel trapped inside traditional law firms, deep in debt and deeper in regret for having chosen what turned out to be a disheartening workplace. They can sense how dysfunctional their firms are, distant from their clients and often damaging to their employees, and they yearn for a better environment in which to exercise their skills and serve their clients. But they don’t know where else to go, or how they could go about building anything different and better.

2. Many more lawyers have walked out of those firms, or have been cut loose by them, or were never even hired in the first place — they’re exiles from the traditional platforms for practising law. But they can’t, or don’t want to, hang out solo shingles or get jobs with law companies — they want to work in law firms, just not at the cost of their personal and professional well-being. And they’re joined every year by thousands of law school graduates who have already heard about, or will soon learn, what’s in store for them. All these lawyers long for better, radically different law firms, too.

3. Clients still need law firms. No disrespect to law companies, which generate a wide range of high-quality legal solutions for clients in a timely and affordable fashion. But I expect most of them would readily agree that they can’t and don’t want to provide every kind of legal service. In particular, they don’t offer legal advice, personal advocacy, strategic counsel, complex legal opinions, and other mid- or high-level legal services, and most of them have no ambitions in that direction. Clients, both individuals and organizations, need mid- and high-level legal services, and I think they’d welcome with open arms the arrival of radically different and better law firms that can deliver them.

And one other factor, on the personal side: If this effort to identify radically different law firms succeeds, and if these examples can be used to design templates for building more such law firms in future, then I’m thinking of making this the subject of my next book.

So my request of you today is: Help me find the next law firm model. I’d like you to nominate law firms that meet the criteria described below, regardless of size or jurisdiction. You can add your nominees in the comments, or send them to me via the email contact form at the bottom of the page. Feel free to immodestly nominate your own firm if it qualifies. If I can accumulate a critical mass of nominees, I’ll list a selection of them in a subsequent post, and I’ll follow up with some of them to arrange more in-depth interviews for a book.

Here are my criteria.

1. The law firm must be no more than 15 years old. (Founded in 2004 or later.)

2. The law firm must not be a law company or ALSP of the kind described in the third paragraph above.

3. The law firm must feature at least one (and preferably more) of the following attributes:

a) New Structure: The firm is not a lawyer partnership, it divides ownership from management from labour, and/or it has a strict corporate decision-making governance system to which lawyers have surrendered autonomy over the firm’s decisions and direction.

b) Greater Accessibility: The firm is physically located, marketed, and/or priced for maximum client convenience, affordability, and relevance. The firm knows where its clients are, and it goes out to meet them there with offerings they can understand and afford.

c) Fresh Markets: The firm is heavily focused on markets that either are brand-new, or have been traditionally under-served, or have been locked out of the legal services world for all practical purposes. The firm has identified and is unlocking latent legal markets.

d) Serious Technology: The firm offers extensive client-facing technology that provides legal answers or solves legal problems, and/or it has used technology to build super-efficient internal systems for creating legal products and services that improve profit margins.

e) Outsourcing: The firm repeatedly partners with law companies or ALSPs (e.g., LPOs, flex agencies, managed legal services providers) to complement its more advanced offerings. The firm identifies what law companies can do more effectively than it can, and collaborates accordingly.

f) Better Pricing: The firm prices most or all its work on a subscription, fixed-fee, risk-sharing, and/or incentives-driven basis. Hourly billing of lawyer work does not necessarily disqualify a firm, but its overall pricing must be intensely client-focused and outcome- or value-based.

g) Smarter Compensation: The firm generously rewards lawyers for a wide range of activities and outcomes (including client satisfaction, contribution to productivity, mentoring of juniors, leadership and management) other than hours billed and clients landed.

h) Leveraged Knowledge: The firm makes extensive use of legal knowledge resources and business/competitive/client intelligence to create new services, serve clients better, improve internal productivity, and/or sharpen external competitiveness.

i) Diversified Sales: The firm applies resources other than lawyers to generate new business opportunities from new and/or existing clients, including sales professionals and industry data. Rainmakers and partners are not the sole or critical engine of the firm’s new business generation efforts.

j) Multiple Disciplines: The firm employs (or if permitted, extends equity to) “non-lawyer” professionals and technicians who play significant client-facing and/or revenue-generating and/or system re-engineering roles. And it doesn’t call them “non-lawyers.”

I want to be clear that this is not a “legal innovation contest.” I’m not interested in receiving a raft of submissions from firms that have added one or two innovative tweaks to a standard law firm partnership. I’m looking for law firms that are truly, radically different from the traditional law firm model, such that the criteria above exemplify that essential difference, rather than constitute mere bolted-on accessories to the old familiar model. And I’m looking for firms that have done this recently enough that they can serve as an inspiration and a template for today’s and tomorrow’s lawyers to follow their lead.

Also note my use of strong modifiers in the criteria: “intensely,” “repeatedly,” “extensive,” “maximum,” and so forth. Again, this is to separate traditional firms that are (admirably) trying some different things from the radically different law firms I’m seeking — those for which these attributes and activities are the everyday rule, rather than the exception.

We need new and better law firms to replace the old and struggling ones now littering the legal landscape. We need to give young lawyers and law students examples and templates to help them build their own sustainable, profitable, fulfilling, client-focused, radically new firms. We need to give the client world better mousetraps to whose doors they can beat a path. In short, we need to find and promote examples of the next great law firm model. Your help would be invaluable.

Law firms’ shopping mall problem

The last time I went to a shopping mall was a week before Christmas. I had several people for whom I needed to acquire gifts (I’m an inveterate last-minute shopper), and I wanted to cover as little distance in as little time as I feasibly could to achieve that goal. The mall offered me convenient access to many different stores under one roof. But what’s interesting is that the mall itself did not sell me any goods or services of its own, other than two hours of parking. Everything I bought was from its tenants.

Joshua Kubicki argues persuasively that the same model applies to law firms. (Not a flattering analogy, given the state of malls in 2019, but a pretty apt one.) In his essay “The Emerging Competitive Frontier in BigLaw is Practice Venturing,” Joshua contends that a large law firm’s myriad practice and industry groups are, effectively, standalone service businesses housed within a single platform that really only exists to host these businesses. The law firm’s true “customers” are not the firm’s clients, but its equity partners:

The firm is providing an ecosystem in which buyers (clients) and sellers (partners) can more easily connect and transact business. The firm itself is not producing or making anything other than facilitating exchanges of value between these two interdependent groups. While clients of the lawyers are paying a fee-for-service, the customers of the law firm, the equity partners, are paying for access to a business platform, much like store owners pay to be part of a shopping mall.  

This seems like a good model for understanding some of the most vexing problems in law firm management. For example, look at all the difficulties firms have encountered with cross-selling across their practice and industry groups.

In theory, proximity to other legal specialists  with deep client portfolios should be a business development gold mine. In practice, however, firms struggle to cross-sell because few lawyers are willing to risk referring “their” clients to their colleagues in other practice areas. But once you consider that these individuals aren’t “colleagues” so much as co-tenants running separate affiliated businesses in the same location, the problem becomes easier to understand. Baskin Robbins has little interest in referring its customers to The Gap one level down. 

So if the firm’s only clients are the equity partners in its various business units, what does it provide to those clients? Joshua identifies five benefits firms sell to their equity-partner customers: risk pooling (to combat practice cyclicality), shared services, branding, access to other specialties, and a funnel for new talent. There’s enough real value in these benefits to justify an individual practice group’s (read: standalone business’s) decision to remain within the firm. Or at least, there used to be.

Joshua relates how the immigration law practice at Epstein Becker pulled up stakes recently and moved out — but not to another full-service firm. The lawyers and staff moved en masse to Berry Appleman Leiden, a specialist immigration firm. Joshua surmises that the equity holders within the immigration practice were finding the benefits of the broad full-service platform less appealing at a time when immigration practice requires serious investments in technology and process improvement to stay competitive. Since Epstein Becker seemed happy to facilitate this move, the firm appears to agree that parting ways was the best option.

Joshua’s article goes on to make a number of other insightful points, but I want to dwell on the implications of this one. Because it’s not only immigration law practices that will need significant customization to their business model to stay afloat in a more demanding and competitive market.

The same would apply, for example, to labour and employment law groups: They will struggle to compete with specialty shops like Littler Mendelson and Ogletree Deakins, which turn a profit on increasingly low-margin work by running their operations very efficiently and building systems to collect client data and turn it into a value-added service. The same would apply to IP groups facing off against specialty boutiques, insurance law practices taking on insurance-focused giants, and so on. Litigation practices will need e-discovery and outcome prediction capacities. Corporate law groups will require investments in due diligence AI and contract management and analysis software.

Every individual practice group within the firm, in other words, will eventually require some specialized application or technician or relationship that will have value primarily or only to that group. It’s one thing for partners to underwrite the firm-wide costs of marketing personnel and law libraries and IT functionality, because these are features that deliver more or less the same benefits to all groups. But when individual practice and industry groups (the mini-businesses) engage in what Joshua calls “practice venturing,” things can take a sudden turn.

Practice venturing is designing a new business model through the process of discovering, testing, validating, and launching (and perhaps buying or selling) a new strategy and value proposition, a new market or customer segment, and a new business model. …  It is about reengineering a practice to better address client needs and opportunities. When done completely, often something new that departs from the traditional legal service model is created.

Practice venturing does bend (and sometimes breaks) the law firm business model …  [T]o succeed at practice venturing, the groups not only need to focus on validating their changing business, but also have to focus on organization adoption of their changing business. This creates stress, dissonance, confusion, and often outright hostility toward the practice group.

The law firm can make only so many concessions to its individual “tenants” before its other customers (the other equity partners) start asking why they’re paying for so many features that have no relevance to their own work.

In time, evolving client demand and competitive circumstances could eventually require each specialized legal business inside the law firm “mall” to figure out what structure and model will make it most competitive and profitable in its market. If the law firm can’t find a way to accommodate those structures and models within the firm, then the group, like Epstein Becker’s immigration practice, will migrate elsewhere to find what it needs.

If this theory holds up, then there’s some serious turbulence on the way for those full-service law firms that are what we always suspected them of being: hotels for lawyers, malls for practice groups, farmer’s markets for legal services. They lack any real operational direction or managerial sophistication, and they are owned by people who don’t really value either one of these things. It’s probably not going to end well.

The winners, by contrast, figure to be those firms that are both culturally cohesive and operationally agile. The cohesion allows the firm to have a more mature and sophisticated relationship with its equity partners than simply landlord and tenant, and to persuade the partners that spending money to improve the competitiveness of one business unit will generate more profits and opportunities for everyone in the firm. The agility will allow it to assemble and plug into the firm’s infrastructure the specialized pieces that each business unit needs without bringing the whole platform down in a heap. 

Can we envision any firms with this combination of cohesion and flexibility that could make these kinds of adaptations? I think so. Here are a few headlines from the legal press that have turned up just in the last few months:

Subsidiary businesses, technology nurseries, data analysis applications, and lower-cost spinoffs are some real-world examples of what law firms can accomplish when they acknowledge and respond to growing competitive pressures on specific markets, practices, or industry groups. Some of these new initiatives will pay immediate dividends across the firm, which makes partner buy-in easier; but some of them — and I suspect in future, more of them — will have narrower applications whose immediate benefits will be clear only to certain segments of the firm. That’s when the real test of the firm’s leadership and cohesion begins. 

One last thought: The main reason why I go to malls so rarely, of course, is that I shop more frequently at the world’s biggest and most convenient mall at Amazon.com. There are still some purchases for which I need direct experience with the product and in-person service from an expert — shoes, clothes, maybe a “genius” at the Apple Store. But for most everything else, including a growing array of big-ticket items, I just go online. Law firms should think about that, too.

Partner succession and law firm ownership

What follows might look like a proposal to address law firm partner succession challenges. But it’s actually a thought experiment in regulatory policy for the legal profession.

As the Boomer generation of law firm partners continues to exit the demographic python, firms increasingly struggle with partner succession challenges. The unwillingness or inability of senior lawyers to transition their practices to younger colleagues has many contributing causes, including:

  • The partner’s refusal to begin winding down and transitioning his practice at its most profitable point,
  • The partner’s desire to sustain the power and privileges of his influential position within the firm,
  • The partner’s reluctance to face the looming end of a career that has given his life definition and value,
  • The partner’s unreadiness to “return to civilian life” after decades in a cloistered law firm environment, and
  • The partner’s misgivings about whether a junior colleague could replace him or serve his clients as well.

The degree to which any of these factors plays a role in the succession challenge varies from partner to partner. But I think the first factor in that list — the partner’s unwillingness to shrink and eventually cut off what is probably a substantial income derived from partnership — is common to virtually every case of “succession-itis.”

Once you leave the equity circle of a law firm, your entitlement to receive any share of that firm’s profits, regardless of how important your contribution to the firm’s success might have been, comes to a swift end. This, of course, is because legal regulators in most jurisdictions prohibit ownership of law firms by anyone who is not a lawyer (But see California.) Or, to be more precise, anyone who is not a practicing lawyer. And that brings me to the proposal: What if lawyers could maintain their equity in law firms after they retired from practice?

Suppose your jurisdiction amended its ethics rules such that a lawyer who holds equity in a law firm could maintain that equity, or some portion thereof, after she retired from practice. That lawyer would no longer face the prospect of an immediate end to her legal income stream, thereby removing a significant disincentive (although not the sole one) to her retirement. This continuing revenue could serve as a sort of “pension” for partners who otherwise must fund their own post-retirement income. Moreover, since this income would depend upon the ongoing success of the firm, the partner would be incentivized to properly transition her practice and clients to a competent younger lawyer, perhaps one whom she’s been grooming for years. If the firm flounders after she leaves because she did a poor job of practice transition, she would be jeopardizing her post-retirement income stream.

Now, regulators being regulators, they could and likely would create various limitations on this post-retirement equity position. They might rule that post-retirement equity requires X years of partnership in a firm before it kicks in, or that the equity share cannot be transferred and expires upon the partner’s death, or that the partner forfeits this share if she joins another legal services supplier or is appointed to a court or tribunal, or that the equity share would be capped at 65% of a practicing partner’s share, that sort of thing. We can play with the permutations and exceptions all day.

But I’m more interested in how the regulator would view the underlying premise of the proposal. Because while I think it’s very unlikely that this change to law firm ownership rules will occur anytime soon, it’s the policy challenges that I think are worth examining.

Upon what basis would a regulator turn down this proposal? What would be the objection to allowing retired lawyers to own equity in a firm? I suppose you could argue that a lawyer who no longer actively participates in the partnership should not be entitled to any income from the firm — but that’s hard to reconcile with the fact that a legal secretary who retires from the same firm is entitled to a pension funded from her own contributions of both hard work and money over many years. Why should a lawyer not have the right to receive an ongoing financial payout from a firm she helped to build into a success?

The potential objections around “non-lawyer” ownership are also interesting. Should a lawyer who retires from practice be considered a “non-lawyer,” the same as someone who never attended law school and practised law? Does the retired lawyer no longer meet the “character and integrity” tests that evidently separate people who are lawyers (worthy of law firm ownership) from people who are not (and therefore not worthy)? Unless we argue that lawyers lose their qualifying degree of character and integrity when they stop serving clients — and I don’t think any legal regulator wants to make that argument publicly — then I’m not sure of the policy position against this idea.

I’m not seriously proposing this change to the ethics rules, for what it’s worth — it likely would prove highly cumbersome to formulate and a huge hassle to regulate and enforce. (Although I’ll wager that, if such a proposal ever did make its way to a regulatory body, it would provoke keen interest from every lawyer over 60 on that body.) I’d much prefer comprehensive, principled reform of law firm ownership rules, rather than piecemeal exceptions that are, once again, all about the lawyers.

But I do think this thought experiment can focus our attention on the presumption behind the “only lawyers can own law firms” rule: that lawyers deserve to own law firms and “non-lawyers” do not. Why is that? What is it about lawyers — precisely and in detail — that qualifies them to own law firms? What is it about “non-lawyers” — precisely and in detail — that disqualifies them? What happens to a person when they leave the “lawyer” category and join the “non-lawyer” category? Are they downgraded somehow, and if so, in what respects, and why?

I don’t have good answers to any of these questions. But I’d be very interested in learning what the answers might be.

Don’t fear the rainmaker

If you’ve spent much time in a law firm, especially in any kind of managerial capacity, you’ve probably run into the steel barrier to change known as “The partners don’t want to do it.”

Sometimes, it’s as simple as “One partner doesn’t want to do it.” And the more powerful the partner, the more successful will be the resistance to any given initiative, especially one that seeks to change anything important about how the firm operates. Our standard response to this resistance tends to be a fatalistic shrug: the partners own the business, so they have the power to do what they want with it.

I’ve had a number of conversations of this type recently with law firm leaders and managers, and it’s led me to reflect on a subject we don’t talk much about: Power in law firms. Who really holds it, and who doesn’t? How is it actually used, and why? And is it time to re-examine some of our assumptions about how power is deployed within law firms? This post tries to consider these questions and suggests that we should answer the last one in the affirmative.

1. The Source Of Law Firm Power

Where does power reside in a law firm? And what is the source of that power?

Power, of course, resides within every company and organization — the power to shape the organization’s external strategic decisions and direct its internal tactical maneuvers. In most organizations, that power is explicitly defined and formally arranged in ways that make its effective exercise possible. The company CEO can do certain things; the board of directors can do certain things; the majority shareholders can do certain things. Not only can they do these things — they are expected to do these things. Part of the deal with having power is fulfilling the responsibility to use it.

In this respect, as in many others, law firms are odd beasts. Power in law firms is more diffused and informal than in other organizations. Almost all firms have a managing partner, but this person is normally considered first among equals, and nobody (including the managing partner) imagines that he or she wields actual authority over other partners. In some law firms, the managing partner, far from being chosen for his or her authority and decisiveness, seems to have been selected for his or her geniality and disinclination to interfere with the affairs of others.

Within the firm’s practice or industry groups, much the same applies. Leadership often falls to the lawyer with either the largest book of business or the strongest reputation — but the actual position of Practice Group Leader doesn’t normally confer much real power on a partner who didn’t already possess it. I wouldn’t go so far as to call formal leadership roles in law firms “ceremonial,” but I don’t think they’re that far from it.

Now as noted above, in pretty much every law firm I’ve encountered, it’s assumed that power resides with the partners based on their “ownership” of the firm, the equity stake they hold in it.

But something doesn’t quite add up here. Every equity “stake” in a law firm is, strictly speaking, equal. In a law firm of 100 partners, each partner technically has a 1% equity share in the firm. No shareholder possessing a 1% stake in a company would try to exercise veto power over the company’s strategic direction or tactical decisions. And if he or she tried to exercise such a power, the company would laugh off the effort.

Yet most law firm partnerships contain a handful of lawyers who can and do launch, or halt, any initiative they like, and everyone else acquiesces to their desires. Let’s suppose a law firm in which Partner A receives ten times as much money in compensation as Partner B in a given year, and is unquestionably more powerful than Partner B within the firm. This is not because Partner A holds 10 “shares” in the law firm to Partner B’s single share: they each “bought into” the firm with a roughly equal investment of capital when they were admitted to the partnership. So the simple fact of equity ownership itself can’t fully explain where real power is located.

Alright, so does real power reside in the ability of a partner to generate revenue? This seems to reflect conventional wisdom: the more money you bring into the firm, the more power you exercise. But here too, there are gaps in the reasoning. A senior associate or non-equity partner might bill as much revenue, if not more, than your average partner. So if the generation of cold, hard cash was the key to power, then the leveraged labourers deep inside the pyramid would be the ones running the place. As we know, they are not.

So maybe power really resides in the ability to bring to the firm clients with paying work. This is closest to the reality in most law firms: the people who “control” the firm’s relationships with its biggest or most important clients are the real power brokers. If a partner who controls key client relationships wants something, that partner will get it. If he or she doesn’t want something to happen, it doesn’t happen. There are only a small handful of such people inside each firm, and these are the people who possess real power.

We call these partners “rainmakers,” which is a lovely word, about as close to poetry as most lawyers get. But you know what rainmakers are called in the rest of the world? “Salespeople.” That’s really the essential nature of who they are and what they do. And law firms are the only business I can think of where the salespeople effectively run the company.

2. The Exercise of Law Firm Power

So we’ve established, as a proposition at least, that top salespeople possess and wield most of the power in law firms. If that’s the case, then here’s a follow-up question that interests me: How is that power exercised in practical terms? I mean, how is a salesperson going to wield power over you: sell less? That would be at least as harmful to the salesperson as it would be to you. Sell more? “Do what I say I or I’ll make more money for you” isn’t much of a threat.

No, the nature of a law firm salesperson’s power is entirely one-dimensional, and it is this: the power to leave. “Do what I say or I’ll take away all the client business I’ve been giving you and give it to another firm instead.” That is the threat, sometimes explicit but mostly implicit, hovering behind the law firm salesperson’s power.

At many firms, this threat is considered to be quasi-existential: a salesperson who controls a significant amount of business generation for the firm could badly damage or even kill the firm if he ever left, so we’d better let him do whatever he wants. That is the source of power in a law firm: the threat to leave the law firm and take away its lifeblood.

Now, you know what’s interesting about this power? It can only be exercised once.

A salesperson’s threat to leave a law firm is a nuclear option, and once it’s deployed, then there’s no turning back: either he goes, and the power is used up, and everyone else is left to carry on as best they can — or he stays, and the threat is forever extinguished, because it turns out he was bluffing, and his power dissipates. Everyone else in the firm fears the salesperson’s power to leave — but what they don’t fully appreciate is that this is a non-renewable power source.

If you’re a top salesperson in a law firm, the nature of your power is not “Use it or lose it.” It’s “Use it and lose it.” Once you exercise this power inside the firm, then it’s gone — because whether you stay or whether you go, everyone in the firm knows you no longer have any power over them.

What if the other members of a law firm no longer feared the rainmaker? What if, instead of folding when the salesperson raises high, they called and demanded to see what was in his hand?

One of two things is going to happen. The first is that the salesperson will leave. Or at least, he’ll try to leave: he’ll put the word out among rival firms (if he hasn’t already), see whether any landing spots are amenable to him, try to negotiate the best free-agent deal he can get, and walk out the door, along with any other personnel he can coax and as much business as he can stuff into his briefcase.

And how much business will he actually walk out with? Acritas recently surveyed a wide range of partners who had laterally moved from one firm to another. Those partners had expected that about 70% of their client business would move with them to their new firm. You know what percentage of business actually moved? Exactly 27%.

When a salesperson leaves a law firm, according to Acritas, what typically happens is that almost three-quarters of the client business that they supposedly “controlled” decides to stay with the original firm. And what I’ve seen and heard is that in firms where a major salesperson has left, the firm’s junior partners frequently move up into the departed partner’s space, and the firm no longer feels like it’s being held hostage by one of its partners. I’m not saying, to be clear, that this will be the happy result every time. But more often than not, the threat of a departing salesperson turns out not to be existential after all.

And that’s what happens if the salesperson goes. If he or she stays, then the bluff has been called, and this person won’t be able to exercise that power again to the same degree.

3. The Reality of Law Firm Power

Here’s what I think: the conventional wisdom about power in law firms is wrong. The people who everyone believes have all the power can’t afford to use it — because once they do, either they’re gone, or it’s gone — and in both cases, they no longer wield power within that firm.

This shouldn’t actually be surprising to us. Real power in a business or organization has never been the power to threaten or take away or destroy — it’s the power to act, to build, to accomplish. Rainmakers’ power, salespeople’s power, is of the first type — the power of the bully, the bluffer, the threatener.

You, right now, in your law firm, have it in you to assert power of the second type. I think that real power in a law firm is basically lying around waiting for someone to use it. Like the sword in the stone, it belongs to anyone who’s willing to grasp it and try to wield it. Real power in a law firm belongs to those individuals who assert that the interests of the firm outweigh the interest of one or two salespeople — and who are willing to stand up to these salespeople and challenge them to use their singular power, and thereby lose it.

Again, I’m not saying there are no risks to challenging a top salesperson and daring them to leave; it would be foolhardy to make this your standard management practice. But the fear of losing a top salesperson keeps most firm leaders and managers from even trying to assert institutional power. You can’t run a business in fear of your own salespeople.

I think power in the average law firm resides with its top salespeople only because everyone else in the firm believes that it does. Once you stop believing that — once you decide that positive power is greater than negative power, and that you can exercise power of the second type through the courageous assertion of the best interests of the firm — then everything about your firm can change.

The end of the beginning

I’d like you to consider the following list. It’s a compilation of several prominent alternative legal services providers (ALSPs) and the year they were founded.

  • 1999: Integreon
  • 2000: Axiom
  • 2001: Relativity
  • 2002: Consilio
  • 2003: Exigent
  • 2004: Pangea3
  • 2005: Novus Law
  • 2006: UnitedLex
  • 2007: Lawyers On Demand
  • 2010: Neota Logic
  • 2011: Elevate
  • 2011: Radiant Law
  • 2012: Ravel Law
  • 2014: Premonition
  • 2014: ROSS Intel
  • 2015: Diligen
  • 2015: Kira Systems

You’ll probably notice a couple of things here. One is that there are two distinct “waves” of foundings, one from 1999 to 2007, and then another from 2010 to 2015. The gap between these two waves is likely due to the financial crisis and Great Recession of 2007-08 — as is, I would suggest, the second wave itself, which rapidly developed in response to the widespread demand for better value from corporate clients following the recession. This list of ALSPs is far from comprehensive, of course, but even as a blurry snapshot of new legal services providers, I think it’s interesting.

The second thing worth noticing, from my perspective anyway, is that all these companies are young. None of them is even old enough to legally drink in the United States. (Y’all need to come north across the border.) Compare that list with this one:

  • 1998: Google
  • 2002: LinkedIn
  • 2004: Facebook
  • 2005: YouTube
  • 2006: Twitter
  • 2007: iPhone
  • 2010: Instagram
  • 2010: iPad
  • 2011: Snapchat

UnitedLex is the same age as Twitter. Neota Logic is as old as Instagram. Half the ALSPs on that first list are younger than the iPad. This entire segment of the legal market flat-out did not exist 20 years ago.

Yet today, according to the Thomson Reuters 2017 Alternative Legal Service Study, alternative legal services provision (“non-law-firms,” basically) is an $8.4 billion industry worldwide — and that figure doesn’t include companies that make legal technology to carry out legal tasks, which is probably at least another couple billion and change. So we’re talking about a sector that has generated many tens of billions of dollars over the last couple of decades, at least 1% of global legal spend annually, from a standing start the year Titanic was released.

I think that’s pretty impressive. And like many people, I’ve not seen much reason why this sector couldn’t continue to grow just as fast  in the years to come. Yet there’s at least some data out there to suggest that that growth has stalled recently.

In an important post last month, Ron Friedmann noticed an apparent disconnect between the conventional legal industry wisdom about ALSPs and the actual data about client spend. The conventional wisdom is that ALSPs have cracked the code of the legal market: they’ve seen how the traditional law firm’s archaic approach to producing and delivering legal work creates gaping market inefficiencies begging to be exploited, and they’ve figured out how process improvement, technological investment, labour arbitrage, and system overhauls can enable that exploitation. There are 8.4 billion reasons to think this is a pretty persuasive case.

And yet, Ron points out that the Altman Weil 2017 Chief Legal Officer Survey asked respondents to estimate the percentage of their total legal spend allocations according to type of provider: internal, outside law firm, and non-firm vendor. Here are the results:

Whoopsie.

“Spending on non-firm vendors, which includes alternative legal service providers, remains in the mid single digits with a shrinking share since 2014,” he wrote. “Many reports and commentators says ALSP is growing absolutely and taking share from law firms. Yet, the only time series data I have seen that asks about actual spending (not intent to spend) is [in this chart].”

Ron notes that this is hardly a definitive disproval of the theory of the Unstoppable Alternative Provider. We don’t have as much spending data as we’d like, to help us establish a case either way. But he also notes that ALSPs received the lowest rating from Altman Weil respondents on the question of which type of provider possesses the best “knowledge and understanding of the challenges of leading a law department.” So there’s at least some reason to ask whether ALSPs have maintained and can maintain their initial launch angle into the legal market. And if ALSPs’ growth in market share has in fact slowed or even stalled out altogether, we should try to figure out why.

Here’s one possibility. It might be that we’re nearing the end of the legal services disintermediation process. It might be that the supply side of the legal market has now broken, irreparably, in two.

The limits of disintermediation

The steady rise of the ALSP since the year 2000 — the legal process outsourcer, the flex-lawyer platform, the managed legal services company, and advanced legal software — has enabled the movement of millions of hours’ worth of routine, straightforward legal work off lawyers’ desks and out of law firms. That work has migrated into both ALSPs and law departments themselves, where it is performed faster, less expensively, and often to a higher degree of quality and reliability. The cost savings cannot be underestimated: Ray Bayley, founder of Novus Law, famously observed that for every dollar his company makes, law firms lose four. It’s not just that this routine work left law firms — it’s that it was streamlined, structured, and shrunken on the way to its new home.

This result is a testament to the fact that law firms were carrying out mind-boggling amounts of legal work inefficiently, haphazardly, and wastefully. It was work that didn’t really belong in law firms anymore and that is no longer part of many firms’ inventory (as unemployed would-be associates and poorly leveraged partners can both ruefully attest).  Twenty years after it first emerged, the ALSP sector no longer has to prove itself. Disintermediation of routine work from law firms has been a success.

But how much longer can it continue? How much more work of this type is there to disintermediate? Probably there’s still a decent amount — many corporate clients have yet to take advantage of what ALSPs have to offer. They haven’t moved far enough along the Rogers Diffusion Curve, or they haven’t accepted the fact that unless they ask for better options, they’re not going to get them. It’s possible that the lowest-hanging fruit has now been picked, and that clients who want better deals on their legal services spend are going to have to stretch themselves to reach it. I do think that will happen, in fits and starts, over the next several years.

The consequences of disintermediation

But what about all the legal work that has not been disintermediated, that remains behind in law firms? Because some work will remain — I don’t know anyone who really believes that everything law firms do can or should be bled off to ALSPs or “robot lawyers” or whatever. Some quantum of legal work requires skilled, trained, sophisticated lawyers to do it properly. Those companies in the ALSP sector are helping us define the quantum — whatever they can siphon off isn’t part of it — but they’re probably not going to be angling to get it. Law firms will be the default provider — but there’s good reason to think that they won’t hold that position for long.

Because the foundation of the traditional law firm is exactly all the routine, repeatable, hours-burning work that ALSPs are taking away. Law firms aren’t set up to perform only high-value, highly sophisticated work. Law firms are dependent on leveraging lower-cost labour — not just associates anymore, but also non-equity partners and even some junior equity partners — to carry out lower-value work. That’s the whole point of leverage. That’s where the partners’ profit is, and always has been. The sale of hours is the lifeblood of law firms — but the kind of work that could sustain 2,000 hours of lawyer effort every year is leaving the building. ALSPs aren’t just siphoning basic work from law firms; they’re siphoning off the lower levels of the law firm pyramid.

The problem is not that law firms are losing all the work they were overqualified to perform. The problem is that law firms are keeping all the work that requires highly skilled lawyers working in close collaboration using sophisticated tools on a multi-disciplinary platform to generate high-value outcomes for a previously agreed price. That, ironically, is the type of work that many law firms always say they aspired to do. But that sort of platform is not what most law firms are. And it is not what most law firms can easily transition to become.

Two legal supply sectors

It looks to me, then, like the supply side of the legal market has broken into two segments.

1. Routine Legal Work. This segment is occupied by alternative legal services providers using technology and processes to disintermediate basic legal tasks from complex, expensive law firms — in many cases, the kind of work lawyers really shouldn’t be doing. When the flow of that work from law firms to ALSPs finally dries up, we’ll have reached the effective end of disintermediation. The ALSP sector will have matured, consolidation will set in, and sector giants will eventually emerge.  That will be an amazing event, an historic correction to the legal services market and a major victory for the legal consumer.

2. Complex Legal Work. This segment is devoted to more complex, higher-value work — tasks that need good lawyers to perform — but it’s occupied by traditional law firms still reeling from the splitting of the supply side of the market. They are finding themselves increasingly bereft of their inventory and unsure of their future. How will they cope? And if they can’t cope, who will perform all the important and sophisticated legal services that require a lawyer’s attention, but that can no longer be effectively served from the traditional law firm?

Ten years after the financial crisis, we may have reached “the end of the beginning” of legal market change.  ALSPs, young and vibrant and exciting, are solidifying their grip on the routine legal work market. Law firms, older and disoriented and vulnerable, are eager to obtain the high-value work, but are struggling to figure out how they can perform it sustainably and profitably with their existing structures and systems. More than a few ALSPs, it should readily be admitted, will fail and fall apart in the churning waters of their new market segment. But more than a few law firms, equally, will fail and fall apart because they’re just not built to deliver what their newly demanding market wants.

And if these law firms do fail, who — or what — will replace them? New and better law firms, designed for the new market to be the kinds of platforms described above? I sure hope so — that’s what I’ve spent the last several years trying to encourage, at any rate. But there’s no guarantee that a new and better platform will arise to sustain lawyers in this segment of the market. And I don’t think anyone knows what will happen if they don’t.

Tomorrow’s law firm, today

When I spoke at the Lexpo ’17 legal technology conference in Amsterdam earlier this year, I had the good fortune to finally meet Jacky Wetzels of Salesmoves (a Dutch consultancy specializing in business training, coaching, and strategy for lawyers and other professionals), with whom I had corresponded in the past. Our conversations led to an extensive interview about both my book, Law is A Buyer’s Market, and my thoughts on how lawyers and law firms can respond to the major shifts underway in the legal market. I’ve posted edited excerpts from my interview with Jacky below; you should read the full interview to get the longer version.

Q. Could you share some of your ideas that come to mind when you think of the future of the law business?

A. Well, we’ll still have law firms in future. They’ll be strong professional businesses, they’ll give good service to their clients, and they’ll help the justice system work as well as it can. But most firms, 10 to 15 years down the road, won’t look much like they do today.

Whereas firms today generate 99%+ of their revenue from the real-time application of lawyers’ billed efforts, future firms will generate less revenue that way. “Non-lawyer” technicians, programmers, related professionals, and others will drive revenue in ways most firms don’t imagine today. The legal profession will have had to change its rules around fee-sharing with “non-lawyers” in order to attract and keep the best people in these areas, as a competitive necessity.

Ownership of these firms will change as well, from being 100%-lawyer to probably 50%+1 — maintaining putative lawyer control. This will affect almost everything we now assume to be immutable about firms, like compensation and promotion systems based on business generation and hourly billing. That will have knock-on effects in diversity, bringing more women into firms and especially their leadership ranks. Firms will be very purposely geared towards the interests of clients and the market, not to lawyers and partners as they are now. All of this will generate huge cultural changes.

Q. Let’s talk about the roles of leaders, lawyers and the other professionals in the law firm. Will it be lawyers using technology, or do you expect data scientists and other tech professionals to start taking over the jobs?  

A. Law firms, like most other successful enterprises, will be multi-dimensional. It’s not going to be just lawyers, supported by staff. It will be lawyers heavily supplemented by professionals and technicians from a broad range of industries and backgrounds. It will be not only lawyers’ services, but legal products made possible by the twinning of lawyers’ expertise and technicians’ know-how.

Yes, lawyers will absolutely use technology, but the nature of that usage will vary. Some lawyers will be deeply immersed in code as they create expert applications to answer commonly asked legal questions within financial institutions. Other lawyers will dip into predictive analytics before recommending whether to proceed with a litigation. It will depend on what makes sense for each practice area and market segment. Whether all these lawyers will do these things inside law firms, or on some superior platform, is an open question. But the more law firms resist change, the more these roles will leave firms and go to alternative platforms, or go directly to the client.

I’m really not sure whether lawyers will adapt well and start using new tools. But if we give lawyers new skills and attitudes, then yes, they can remain at the forefront of this market. I don’t see much interest by “non-lawyer” technicians in acquiring legal skills — they’ll recognize that the easiest way to access legal expertise is to ask a lawyer. In the future law firm, everyone will do their part, what they’re good at — division of labour. It works in every other industry, so I think it’s about time law gave it a shot.

Lawyers will have to choose our spots, figure out what we’re really good at that nobody else can do as well as we can. We won’t do everything in the future legal market — that seems absolutely certain to me. So the question is, what are we going to do?

Q. What skills do you think lawyers need to best cope with these challenges?

A. I’ve written about this in a few places now (here’s one), but I think we need to be equipping lawyers better in terms of collaboration, customer service, empathy, financial literacy, process improvement, and technological affinity, among other things. People sometimes deride many of these as “soft skills,” but I think that’s badly mistaken. Most of life is “soft skills.” The things that clients complain about most with their lawyers amount to soft-skill breakdowns — failure to listen, failure to empathize, failure to set expectations, failure to communicate.

If you talk to satisfied clients, both everyday individuals and corporate leaders, they’ll say the same thing: My lawyer listens to me, understands my situation, and responds to me in a way that makes me feel heard and recognized. You don’t need devastating intellectual power to provide that. Care about the person you’re speaking with. Stand in their place. See the world through their eyes. Commit an act of emotional imagination. It’s not nearly as hard as you think.

If there’s one thing we could use as a profession, it’s a strong dose of humility. We don’t have all the answers. We’re not the smartest people in the room. We’re not indispensable. We’re here to serve, not to be served. I would teach a whole law school class on humility if I could.

Q. What firms do you think will “survive” (stay profitable)?

A. I really think the difference-maker will be leadership. Not just the formal leadership of managing partners and practice group leaders, but the informal leadership of heavyweight rainmakers and political players inside a firm. Will a top-earning senior partner willingly and cheerfully divest himself or herself of 30% of their annual income, during the highest-earning final years of their career, in order to transition the firm to a new generation of leaders and ensure client continuity, or to invest in a powerful new technology platform that will generate massive revenue for the firm after the partner has retired? How many partners in your law firm would do that?

The hard reality is that very few partners would. It’s an unreasonable thing to ask. But leadership is about doing the unreasonable thing. It’s about taking a hit today so that others can enjoy some of your own good fortune later, long after you’re gone. It’s about stewardship and sacrifice for the next generation, paying into a fund that might never pay you back. The more people like that who are in your law firm, the better the chance that your firm will not just survive, but dominate, in the years to come. If you don’t have anyone like that in your firm, I suggest you start looking for your next position now.

Q. What can lawyers do in the meantime? 

A. Three practical steps. First of all, understand who and where you are. What is your unique value proposition to the market? Emphasis on “unique” — what have you got that no one else has, or that no one else does unquestionably as well as you? Collect intelligence on your market presence, or have someone do it for you. It’s no insult to say the category of their “unique value” is smaller than most lawyers think. If you don’t have the value proposition that you want, which one do you want? Then set yourself the task of establishing it.

Second, reach out to the markets and clients you want to serve and learn everything you can about who they are, what they experience, where they’re going, and what they need. What they need won’t always be what they tell you they need, by the way. Know your markets cold.

And third, start acquiring the skills and tools and expertise, wherever you can, as soon as you can, to present the unique value proposition you want to the markets you’ve researched and learned about and have committed to serve. That’s as good a start as any.