I observed a mock jury trial recently. Jurors were all over the place in their thinking. They were young and not-so young (I prefer that to “old as dirt”), employed, retired, and self-employed. Women, men, ethnically diverse. They agreed that there was liability, but not in the way I expected.
Some of them liked the case, some hated it. Some liked the witnesses, others said “no way.” I came away with my preconceived ideas about the case down the chute, and a new respect for the process.
I’ve always said in mediation that you never know what a jury is going to do, and that a so-so settlement in mediation is better than the uncertainty of handing your fate over to 12 people who couldn’t get out of jury duty and couldn’t care less about your case. What the parties and the attorneys value is often not what the jury values. We’ve seen this time and again in both criminal and civil cases, but it never hurts to have a refresher.
On another topic altogether, I start my fifth (!) year this month as an ATL columnist. (Elie hasn’t kicked me to the curb yet, but I would guess he’s thought about it.) While I love having the chance to rant uninterrupted (and what lawyer doesn’t?), the best part has been emails from readers that have made this gig so worthwhile. I have received complimentary emails that force me to go through the door sideways until the swelling goes down; I have received emails telling me that I was wrong; and I have received emails adding something I have forgotten to include, rebuking me gently or not so.
The late poet Howard Nemerov said, “Write what you know. That should leave you with a lot of free time.” Taking that comment to heart, here are some reader thoughts about what I have written or should have written. My readers are so much smarter than I am.
In responding to my column about what to do while waiting for bar results, I suggested spending time observing in the courtroom. A retired court reporter reminded me of the importance of court reporters in the system and how lawyers, especially newbies, need to learn how to make a clear record. Point taken. A clear record is critical and that includes reading slowly from a document so that the reporter can take it down accurately and having a copy for the reporter so she can “type” it as it’s being read. Don’t turn your back on the reporter (reporters don’t have 360-degree hearing), enunciate, slow down (early on, one court reporter clocked me at more than 200 words per minute) and don’t talk over each other. One at a time, please. You would think that those things are elementary, but they’re not.
I’ve received lots of emails about discrimination, be it gender and/or age and/or pay and/or race, and how the profession is not stepping up to what it needs to do going forward. We’re more than willing to advocate for our clients, but for ourselves, not so much. Although we’re getting better at it, the profession still has a long way to go to reach goals of diversity, inclusion, and parity.
Readers have also asked whether it makes sense to become a lawyer, especially later in life, i.e., when the Age Discrimination in Employment Act kicks in. The sound you have heard is the thud of my forehead dropping on my desk. Reality bites. Starting law school after 40 is tough and passing the bar exam is tough, but what I think is the toughest of all is either getting a job (unless you have expertise in an area) or starting your own practice, often the default choice. Many aspiring lawyers have drunk the Perry Mason, LA Law, Boston Legal, The Practice, The Good Wife, Ally McBeal Kool-Aid without really thinking through the personal and financial sacrifices (student loan debt anyone?) that are involved, plus the rapidly changing nature of the profession itself.
Setting up your own practice is difficult at best, dispiriting, and even depressing at worst (I could think of other words, but then I would lose the alliteration.) People who want to start a legal career later in life face more odds than those who have graduated college, had a gap year or several, and then gone to law school. And if you’re talking about women over 50 undertaking a legal career, don’t get me started.
Comments about the California Bar Exam and its infamous cut score have been a perpetual favorite topic of reader emails. Suggestions have included lowering the cut score (a bunch of law school deans think that’s the way to go), ditching the rote memorization of the MBE (how many times has a client asked you to cite chapter and verse of the Rule Against Perpetuities?), and opinions about the anachronistic nature of the bar exam in today’s practice world. I haven’t been the only one writing about it.
Mental health concerns abound. Commenting on my recent column about a lawyer support group, one reader shared with me that he has been sober for 27 years (congratulations!) and he has found support groups very helpful. Some lawyers have shared with me very personal and painful stories about deaths by suicide, be they young lawyers or those who have practiced for years. It shouldn’t be this way and we need to make sure that even one more death is one too many. I have been honored by their candor.
And a big whoops and sincere apologies to one reader who asked for information about lawyer support groups in the Los Angeles area in the context of sharing with me some personal information after my column appeared about lawyer support groups. I intended to forward that email on to my host, but somehow, I deleted the email. AAAAARRGGH. If the person who wrote that email reads this, please email me again. I promise to forward it on this time without any technical glitches. Gmail is not perfect, and neither am I. So stipulated.
Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at oldladylawyer@gmail.com.