When I was a fifth year associate at a large law firm, a big opportunity fell into my lap. A former colleague at a firm I previously worked at had moved on to an assistant general counsel position at a large Tier 1 auto supplier. He was in charge of the company’s “troubled supplier” issues, and contacted me about the possibility of taking on the work. It was a significant, career-trajectory altering, high six figures in annual billings opportunity.

As I began the process of evaluating the hoops to jump through – conflicts, in particular – to bring in the business, a number of other lawyers at the firm surfaced who claimed pre-existing relationships with individuals in the legal department at the potential client. If the work came in, they argued, they should receive origination credit. I remember clearly the ten-plus lawyer conference call that was scheduled to discuss conflicts and credit. Ostensibly the call was organized to discuss the opportunity that I was presented with, but I barely got a word in.

Eventually, I just gave up. It seemed like there were too many hands in the honey pot. The opportunity went elsewhere.

Mentorship is one of the most powerful means of training and developing young associates. But many mentoring programs fail because they’re premised on a misguided notion that what a lawyer needs is a mentor, when what she really needs are mentors.

The mentorship system in many modern law firms looks no different than it did 30 years ago when a junior associate was paired with a senior attorney who (at least this was the idea) takes the young associate under his wing and provides career guidance. In a typical situation, the mentor and mentee meet periodically – for example, every quarter for lunch – to discuss the mentee’s career development.

There are problems with this style of mentorship, particularly if it’s the exclusive mentoring that an associate receives.

Back in July of 2014 (How could it possibly be that long ago?!), I wrote an article for Attorney at Work that focused on the importance of narrowly focused, niche legal practices, and how to go about building one. It was one of the most popular articles I’ve written, and became the catalyst for my book which came out in 2016.

In it, I challenged lawyers to visualize a continuum. On one end is the general practitioner – the “Jack of All Trades” – and on the other is the specialist – the “Master Craftsman.” The Jack of All Trades is busy, bouncing from project to project, learning a little about a lot. Clients think of the Jack of All Trades when price is a primary consideration. The Master Craftsman is also busy, but focused. She knows a lot about a little and is able to charge a price premium.

My thesis, backed by research and the experience of myself and others, is that if a lawyer is looking to build a practice, it’s better to become a Master Craftsman.

In a post I wrote for my friends at Attorney at Work back in December dealing with the issue of productivity, I explained that “work is like fitness — it’s best done in short bursts of intensity, followed by periods of rest and recovery. So start the day with a sprint.”

It’s easy to get into the office and start ticking off the easy stuff. It can be satisfying to immediately dig into email and begin volleying correspondence back and forth with clients, colleagues and adversaries. It’s busywork, and busy feels productive.

The problem, of course, is that the moment you get through your inbox, a new batch of messages is waiting for you. Before you know it, 6 p.m. rolls around and the brief, presentation or transaction that you need to get done for the next day hasn’t even been started.

“All professions are a conspiracy against the laity,” said George Bernard Shaw. In the legal profession, the best evidence of a conspiracy is the often impenetrable density and complexity of the law. It’s almost impossible for laypersons to understand the law and its processes. Lawyers perpetuate the conspiracy through their use of jargon and legalese.

There’s been a great deal of discussion, writing and study related to the costs of using legalese. But it does not seem there’s been much progress in convincing lawyers to communicate in a simpler, more accessible way.

This week, Attorney at Work published my take on why lawyers should – more than ever before – resolve to simplify their written communication style this year.

I’m not advocating we dumb-down the profession. I’m just saying that sometimes, when appropriate, we dial it back a bit. Clients won’t think less of lawyers if they communicate in plain English. Most clients will appreciate it. Judges, too. And it all starts with simplifying the primary means through which lawyers communicate: the written word.

Check out the post on Attorney at Work’s website by clicking here.

We’re winding down for the holidays here, but at the same time gearing up for a big, exciting 2017. I want to thank you, as one of Simply Stated’s loyal readers, for investing a bit of your time and attention to my blog this year. I hope you enjoyed reading the content as much I enjoyed producing it.

I’m really excited for what’s on tap next year. I will be sending out much more information about our upcoming initiatives at Harrington Communications in the months to come, but here’s a quick preview:

• I will be launching an online course addressing the topic of personal branding for lawyers in February.
• My new book, geared to first and second year lawyers and featuring insights from some of the country’s top lawyers and consultants, will be coming out next summer.
• I’m now booking engagements to speak at law firm retreats and training workshops about topics like personal branding, building a niche practice, productivity, and social media/content marketing. If you’d like to discuss, please email me at jay@hcommunications.biz.

The seed of the idea for this post came from my own reflections about the early days of my legal career. November 1 holds significance for me because it’s about the time that I started “getting it” as a first year lawyer. After reflecting upon my own experience, my thoughts drifted to the many first years toiling away for the last two months at law firms across the country. I hope they are starting to get it, too.

The fortunate few are able to hit the ground running in their legal careers. Often these are people with prior work experience, who are a bit older, more mature, and who previously learned how to navigate a corporate bureaucracy. For the rest of us, though, the first few months of practicing law is a harrowing time, fraught with stress and anxiety.

The are many reasons for this. Most new lawyers have never held a “real” job. They’re getting bombarded with emails, phone calls and work assignments for the first time. They’re trying to learn the work culture. They’re starting to deal with adversaries. Everything they are doing is new, and they’re fearful of the consequences of screwing up. They’re steeped in a cauldron of uncertainty.