The practice of law has changed in many important ways over the years, but in many others it has not. In today’s cutthroat, competitive culture, we have a tendency to romanticize what things were like in the legal profession “back in the day.”

When we think of the “Giants” of our profession, those who left a lasting, indelible impact, names such as Darrow, Webster and Marshall come to mind. These lawyers shared many similar characteristics, including intelligence, courage and high ethical standards. They also lacked something that almost all lawyers today have in common: none graduated from law school. They read the books. They apprenticed. They learned by doing. And in the process they shaped the law, and the legal profession, in ways that are studied in law school classrooms across the country today.

Abraham Lincoln followed a similar path. We’ve all heard the stories of Lincoln studying his law books by candlelight in a log cabin. He lacked the formal legal training that is taken for granted in today’s profession. But while Lincoln may not have had a Harvard law degree, he – like many other legal stalwarts – learned through the school of hard knocks the principles and practices of what it takes to become a successful and respected lawyer.

When I was a young associate, every time I sent an email to a partner or client that included work product or a bit of analysis I found myself eagerly anticipating a “pat on the back” email back in my inbox. As you may have guessed, those pats on the back rarely came.

That’s life in a law firm! But it’s a lesson that took me some time to learn. Too often, I found my mood shifting with the winds – and whims – of the day’s feedback. What I finally learned is that as a law firm associate you need to learn to look for approval within yourself, and not from external sources.

But that’s easier said then done. In order to have that type of measured mindset, young associates need some tools in their toolboxes. One of the most effective is an “oldie but goodie” called Stoicism.

“What would happen if I did the opposite?”. It’s an approach that worked for George Costanza in a classic Seinfeld episode, but it’s rarely something we think about – let alone act upon – in real life.

Doing the opposite – going against the grain, bucking conventional wisdom – can be scary. It can result in failure. It welcomes skepticism. It invites derision. It makes people uncomfortable. It’s especially frowned upon in the slow-to-innovate legal industry.

It is also the indispensable action that is inextricably linked to virtually every breakthrough idea that has moved the needle of human progress forward.

Conventional wisdom is, by definition, a generally accepted theory or belief. Any action or idea that is contrary to conventional wisdom is, therefore, generally not accepted, and the person propounding it is considered wrongheaded and counter-cultural – that is, until the radical is proven right, and the new idea replaces the old. As Albert Einstein said: “The only sure way to never make mistakes is to have no new ideas.”

Put more simply, rejecting conventional wisdom is risk taking.

I live in a small town in northern Michigan called Traverse City. It’s a quaint, picturesque town of 17,000 residents, although the population, hustle and bustle of the area swells during the summer months. People flock from all over the world to enjoy the beauty of Lake Michigan and the incredible food, wine and craft beer scene that this region offers.

Over the last five years (my family has lived here two years), Traverse City has experienced tremendous growth, both in its primary industries of tourism, hospitality and agriculture, as well as new industries such as technology. There’s even a new tech incubator here, and an angel fund that was formed to help attract and cultivate the growing number of startups in the area.

The entrepreneurial scene is booming. Interesting and creative new businesses are opening every week here. Young people and young families looking for a different way of life continue to migrate here from busy urban areas at a steady clip. They’re building businesses around their lives, rather than lives around their businesses. A risk taking ecosystem and ethos has taken hold.

But it wasn’t always this way. In fact, it wasn’t at all this way just a few years ago. And it didn’t happen by accident.

Lawyers with strong personal brands stand for something. And for those with the strongest brands, “something” means one thing. They are master craftsmen, rather than jacks of all trades.

The jack of all trades lawyer is busy, bouncing from project to project, learning a little about a lot. Clients think of a jack of all trades when price is a primary consideration. The master craftsman lawyer is also busy, but focused. She knows a lot about a little and is able to charge a price premium as a result.

The objective of becoming a lawyer with a strong personal brand is to make it clear to the market the precise types of problems that the well-branded lawyer can solve. A strong personal brand allows a lawyer to transform from hunter to hunted. Clients seek her out because her value proposition is clear and has been validated through her experience, reputation, thought leadership and the word of mouth of others she’s worked with and against. She knows – and the market knows – what she does, how she does it, and for whom. Success follows.

A great deal has been said and written about the epidemic of the unhappy lawyer. Surveys suggest that career dissatisfaction among lawyers, and even rates of depression, are on the rise. According to research published last year, 28 percent of lawyers experience mild or higher levels of depression.

Associate attorneys are not immune from this issue. In fact, a survey from a few years back found that “associate attorney” was the unhappiest job in the United States. Many theories are posited as to the root causes, including overwork, stress, uninteresting work and the adversarial nature of the law. In recent years, firms have increasingly been urged to improve culture and expand opportunities for work-life balance, particularly for young associates. Firms need to change, the thinking goes, to adapt to the needs and desires of millennials.

This is a topic that is of great interest to me. And it’s one of import and urgency. After all, how can the profession expect to continue to perform at high levels if the young lawyers in the profession (at least large numbers of them) are dissatisfied with the work they spend such a massive amount of time on?