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Wednesday 23 December, 2009
Recently in Compensation Category
In the 1980's and 1990's, one often heard the only semi-facetious phrase that "investment bankers are short-term greedy, but lawyers are long-term greedy." One of the few exceptions to "short term greedy" on the I-Bank side of the Street was always Goldman Sachs, which, under the leadership of people like John Weinberg, was the epitome of long-term greedy.
I was put in mind of this by a front page piece in today's New York Times, "As Goldman Thrives, Some Say an Ethos Has Faded." Here's the gist.
Lloyd Blankfein has led Goldman Sachs since 2006, and "has surrounded himself with a tight circle of executives drawn from Goldman's trading operation." The business model of Mega I-Banks has traditionally had two components, trading for the firm's own account, and counseling corporate clients on strategy, M&A, and so forth. But if you believe the article (I do, fundamentally), this balance has shifted at Goldman:
Interviews with nearly 20 current and former Goldman partners paint a portrait of a bank driven by hard-charging traders like Mr. Blankfein, who wager vast sums in world markets in hopes of quick profits. Discreet bankers who give advice to corporate clients and help them raise capital -- once a major source of earnings for Goldman -- have been eclipsed, these people said.
To my way of thinking, the smoking gun is a 2006 change in compensation for measuring investment bankers' value to the firm. That year, Goldman instituted banker "profiles," which are daily (yes, daily!) P&L's showing how much business its employees and clients are doing. As the article writes, this change--quelle surprise--had two effects. First, Goldmanites focused on clients who might generate the most revenue in the very near term, and second, it "prompted bankers to fight more aggressively for credit for their deals." (Sound familiar?)
Regular readers know that I place great stock in compensation: Read, incentives. Econ 101, and Econ X01 through Y01, relentlessly teach the importance of incentives in molding behavior. And the i-bankers at Goldman are surely smart enough that they don't need to be told twice how to bring home more of what they surely feel entitled to.
Here's another window on the change the firm may have undergone:
"Would John Weinberg ever be in this situation?" [offering vague apologies for "mistakes" leading up to the financial crisis], asked one former partner, referring to the legendary senior partner who ran Goldman for many years. "No way. He would have thought about the firm over 50, 100 years, not what people will get paid this year."
Since the modern Goldman emerged during the Depression, its executives have cultivated a ruthless professionalism tempered by what might best be described as Goldman Sachs Exceptionalism: a sense that Goldman stands apart from, if not above, Wall Street rivals.
This sense, strengthened by a tradition of government service among senior executives, runs deep inside the bank's headquarters at 85 Broad Street in Lower Manhattan. Indeed, from the day they arrive, employees are steeped in the firm's 14 principles. No. 1 is: "Our clients' interests always come first. Our experience shows that if we serve our clients well, our own success will follow."
If you perceive an analogy to Law Firm Land, the line forms to the left.
Surely, surely, your firm has stated core principles akin to Goldman's: Put the interest of your clients first, and the firm will take care of itself.
But do you also have long-lasting origination credits? And how important are they?
To what extent does your compensation model reflect a zero-sum game where one partner's hoarding gain is another's failure to collaborate loss? Do you measure performance daily, weekly, monthly, quarterly, annually, or over three to five-year rolling cycles?
In other words, how short-term greedy are you and how long-term greedy are you?
I fear that too many firms became too short-term greedy in the past decade. Were there reasons for this? In hindsight, of course, we know that the reasons espoused at the time look more like pretexts or thoughtless obeisance to the common wisdom than they actually look like hard-boiled, unblinkingly analytical Reasons. - Why lend promiscuously to subprime borrowers? Because housing prices only go up, never down.
- Why pinch clients for more immediate revenue with less regard to cultivating a long-term relationship? (a) Because we're Goldman Sachs and we can; and (b) because we have eaten the fruit of the poisonous quarterly- and annual-results tree of knowledge.
- Why resort to financial acrobatics and structural contortions to boost your profits-per-partner figures for benefit of The American Lawyer? Because no one wants to finish last in a beauty contest and because everyone else is doing it (and everyone else knows everyone else is doing it, so wink-wink).
In terms of what we may have experienced (some of us, not all of us, of course) during the past decade or so, it's the final bullet-point above that I believe--sadly--carried the greatest weight.
And in retrospect weren't we all somewhat delusional? For one thing, as Cesar Alvarez of Greenberg Traurig half-jokes, the only number that matters is "profits per me." Yet we all seemed to drink the Kool-Aid, just as GE famously during the Jack Welch years always "beat the Street" quarterly earnings estimate by a penny or two. What an astonishing performance! (And it was astonishing, just not in the way analysts perceived it at the time.) Leaving, of course, Jeff Immelt to clean up the share-price mess when the magic suddenly evaporated.
How does this relate to PPP? Easily. You've read the same articles I have drawing a direct comparison between PPP and price-per-share of publicly traded companies. Absurd? Yes, transparently so, comparing reported income figures divided by a subset of headcount to total market capitalization divided by (arbitrary) number of common shares outstanding. But we read the articles and thought, "gee, that's interesting!" (Some of us, anyway.)
To the extent we've been pursuing ever-higher PPP figures, I fear we engaged in a septic and self-referential circle, which ultimately fooled no one.
Those that became short-term greedy are now faced with the consummate challenge of rebuilding their business model at the same time they need to re-educate their partners and their associates and re-invigorate a lost culture of client service first. All while the "Great Reset" threatens to derail the entire train.
But if the design of your compensation system, evidently like that of Goldman's, encouraged short-term-itis, do not blame your partners. Blame yourself.
Lloyd Blankfein
Update from a reader in the UK (December 22): Fascinating and
provocative as usual, Bruce. The question, though, is of course: is it possible
for law firm management to be "long-term greedy" in the age of the
lateral partner? Even public companies have institutional long-term
shareholders who may exert some pressure to not throw the future out in the
quest for quick returns. Law firms strike me as almost unique, in that the
firm's talent are also the shareholders and can exert enormous pressure on
management to do things their way; and, once you add a febrile talent market to
the mix, you end up with partners able to effectively hold their firms to
ransom: "short-term profit or I'm out of here". Of course, the Wall
St law firms (ironically enough given what's happened to their clientèle) cling
on to lockstep, relatively low levels of lateraling, etc. But any economist
presumably knows "culture" is an inadequate bulwark against
misaligned incentives I take the point, which is a nice one.
But I still believe that some firms possess sufficient cultural "glue" to avoid falling prey to the siren song of quick returns via lateral moves--"grab and go," as a friend puts it. I know so, in fact, because I've seen and worked with these firms. And nothing I've experienced indicates that glue is softening at the hands of any solvents, economic or otherwise.
What's going on at Reed Smith?
Less than a week ago, they announced a roughly 20% cut in first-year associate salaries and hourly billing rates for the 50-odd lawyers joining the firm in January 2010. Here's what they had to say about it (emphasis supplied):
"In response to our clients' feedback and concerns about driving down the cost of legal services, we wanted to send a clear message that we are listening. So, we have therefore reduced both the rates and the salaries of our incoming first year associates" said Gregory B. Jordan, Reed Smith's Global Managing Partner. "We have also launched a new competency based development program to better prepare our new lawyers to meet the needs of our clients."
Annual starting salaries for the new associates beginning in January 2010 will range from $130,000 in major markets such as New York City, Chicago, California, and Washington, D.C. (down from a high of $160,000 in 2008), to $110,000 in Pittsburgh, PA. These actions solely involve the new associates entering the firm's U.S. offices. Salary levels for 2010 newly qualifying lawyers in the firm's European, Middle Eastern and Asian offices will be determined in the normal course of business during 2010.
"Our new U.S. starting salaries represent a reasonable and appropriate reset based on today's economic environment," said Eugene Tillman, the firm's Global Head of Legal Personnel. "We believe this will put Reed Smith in a stronger business position in a changing marketplace while still providing fair compensation to our new associates."
Billable hour expectations were also cut for 1st-years from 1,900 to 1,700/year (just over 10%), with the shaved time being devoted to training.
But the remarks I've highlighted go virtually all the way to explaining what's going on, I believe: The firm wants to try to get out in front of client expectations (and demands) for economies in legal expense, and they're targeting a hot button--the high salaries and low/nonexistent competency levels of junior associates. Will it work? Silly question: This is a buyer's market for junior associate talent the likes of which most of us still alive and breathing have never seen. Young associates have zero bargaining power (OK, Rhodes Scholars/Supreme Court clerks/NFL wide receivers excepted, as always).
Will it become universal? Don't hold your breath. As Jordan astutely notes elsewhere (at least I think it's astute since I happen to agree with him emphatically),
In the wake of the downturn, Jordan said law firms in general are making decisions independently and apart of industry trends.
"Law firms aren't copying each other," he said. "Everybody is trying to figure out how to run their business and how to get it as rightly-positioned as they can. We're seeing it every day. We're going to see sharper decision making by all the law firms, not mimicking each other on every little thing."
And now they have announced an even more radical move--well, at least one affecting about six times as many people, at a far more senior level--with the news that their 300 or so non-equity partners will be asked to contribute up to 15% of their compensation to the firm as capital. And if you would "prefer not to?" Then you can either forfeit your "partner" status, presumably achieving instant self-inflicted demotion to "associate," or leg into the contribution over a few years. What you cannot do is stay a non-equity partner and decline to make the contribution.
Whereas the first announcement was greeted, so far as I can discern, largely with silence if not a collective yawn, the latter has generated predictable second-guessing and skepticism about the firm's professed motives, most of it centered around what it does or does not imply about the firm's financial fortunes. Jordan (disclosure: I consider him a friend and one of the more innovative managing partners in the business) was at pains to head off this speculation:
Jordan stressed that the move is not simply meant to provide a quick-fix cash injection or as a way of culling the firm's non-equity partnership. "People could say, 'Oh, Reed Smith must need the money,' but the reality is we are having a very strong year," he says. "And if you wanted to just trim non-equity partners, there are much easier ways to do that."
Performing a very back of the envelope calculation, the move could bring Reed Smith $18-million or so (say somewhere between $15 and $20-million, to be safe), which is certainly a not-immaterial contribution to capital, and it's manifestly easier to raise it from your non-equity cohort than going back to the well with your equity partners or your even less forgiving bankers.
Alas, the coverage so far raises more questions than it answers:
- What type of animal exactly is the "contribution?"
- A one-time payment, a sort of toll extracted for the privilege of continuing to carry the word "partner" on your business card?
- An interest-free loan, repayable (presumably) upon your departure from the firm (and what if the departure is "for cause" as far as the firm is concerned?)
- Is it secured or unsecured?
- Oh, and again, does it earn interest?
- Assuming it's not characterized as an equity investment--and both the language of the stories and the premise of "non-equity" partner strongly imply it's not--in what sense, then, are you a "partner?"
- The firm explains that part of the rationale is that some (but apparently not all) non-equity partners in European offices, primarily those in legacy merged offices, already have been required to contribute capital, so on that view it's only a way to level the famous playing field between the US and the rest of the world. (there are two ways to achieve that, of course, this being only one of them).
- How does the 15% number compare with the capital contributions expected/required of equity partners?
- Are the other "terms" of the contribution identical or materially different?
- When a non-equity's compensation goes up, or down, does their contribution rise or is a rebate expected?
One could go on, and I invite you to do so with your friends at home, but I have a larger issue to close with.
Assuming the Holy Grail of our world is the "one-firm firm," the institutionalized firm in which everyone, from Managing Partner to non-equity partner to paralegal to administrative assistant, feels invested, a firm with a vision they can buy into, what here is not to like?
This has to be what Jordan is driving at when he says "[Non-equity partners will] have a stake in the business and meaningful profit participation, not just carrying the title [of partner]. [and] "It's about not just saying you're a partner, but actually being one. It means something. It revolves around risk-sharing in the business."
We can take potshots from the sidelines to our heart's content (here's a sample), but who would seriously argue with the goals Jordan here articulates?
Or we may simply be overthinking this.
Econ101 teaches that if you want people to demand less of something, make it more expensive. Reed Smith has just made non-equity partner status more expensive.
Put that together with my belief that as an industry we let the entire non-equity tier grow out of control during the boom years, and you may be seeing the beginning of one approach to the problem. It's certainly easier than having all those awkward one-on-one conversations with underperformers.
My recent column, What Makes Laterals Run?, has generated a most rewarding level of reader feedback, worthy of an update to the original column.
Reactions have literally come from around the world, and, with the permission of my correspondents (all of whom expect anonymity, an expectation I most willingly grant), I wanted to share a sampling with you and then elaborate on what further thoughts of mine they prompt.
First, from a former partner in a couple of name-brand firms, with 30+years of experience under his belt in roles such as executive committee member, founding partner of various offices, and co-chair of his firm:
"Bruce, you definitely have this right. When I set up our new London office in 1999, I was able to recruit top laterals not based on our money offer (strong and fair but not the ridiculous offers of firms like [name removed to protect the firm so charged--Bruce]) but rather based on our business plan and specific suggestions as to how they could cross sell to our existing client base and strong practices in new emerging markets. You are seeing the same thing here."
So what I'm suggesting has been going on for more than a decade--at least among the more discerning firms and lateral partner candidates.
Second, from another globe-trotting and astute observer of our wondrous profession:
Long time since I've emailed, but I was struck by something amusing, maybe even ironic, in your post today on lateral partner moves. Basically, it seems like lateral partner moves have now "caught up" with lateral associate moves.
Clearly, there were associates who used to move upstream (think bankruptcy associates during the last wave), who used to move downstream (the classic, maybe now defunct, "work/life" balance move), and who "serially divorced" (as in an associate I knew who was at 3 or 4 different firms in five years). But for a long time, there were also strategic associate moves -- the associates who could not fully "read" how the firm planned for their future and moved to a firm where they believed their odds for making partner would be clearer and more transparent. If a 40-50 year old partner moves because they cannot discern their firms' plans for the future and, indirectly, their future chances for increased fame, glory and compensation, is it really that different from those associates who used to move due to uncertainty over their own future?
Regards,
[xxxxxx]
P.S. Yes, my use of the past tense for lateral associate moves was intentional. Depending on how long this Great Reset lasts (great name for it, by the way), I wonder when discussion of lateral partner moves will also move in to the past tense?
Interesting perspective comparing lateral partners' strategies with lateral associates' strategies. All I can add is that, yes, "work/life balance" is "so last August," and that the insight that one thing both associates and partners may be seeking in a lateral move is greater clarity vis-a-vis where they stand with their firm. In my original column, I stressed partners motivated to look around because they perceived a lack of clarity in their firm's strategic vision, but an equally strong motivation could certainly be lack of clarity from the firm about the partner's own long-run prospects.
And as for using the past tense? Given that voluntary associate attrition has fallen to barely above 0%, I agree that the past tense is justified, at least until a technical-but-jobless recovery from the Great Reset becomes robust enough to reach the stage of actually creating net new jobs. (Don't hold your breath on this one, folks; my own armchair guess is 2012.)
Third, a partner with a Magic Circle firm in Asia writes:
Great piece on laterals - and, I think your hypothesis is spot on !!! [...] It is also very relevant to a major shift going on in the [local] market at the moment.
Finally, a periodic correspondent offers extensive, and very thoughtful, observations:
Bruce --
In response to your recent post on lateral recruiting, I drafted below a couple thoughts. My general view is that extensive lateral recruiting is the sign of real trouble at a firm. It typically is a sign that a firm has been unable to develop talent internally, and/or that a firm is trying to build a practice in an area that is not a core strength of the firm. Only where firms use lateral hiring very selectively -- where they are able to specify the precise characteristics of the ideal candidate, and have targeted that person based on a unique firm strategy (rather than blind desire to replicate more profitable, NY-based firms), can lateral hiring have success.
I agree with your basic premise -- that strategy matters in attracting and keeping talent. I also agree that we are seeing like firms and like partners starting to come together (e.g., securities specialists going to firms with substantial NY practices that earn higher PPP).
I have two questions:
(1) When will firms stop chasing laterals and start building talent from within. Most successful organizations develop talent internally, rather than through lateral acquisitions. For example, GE historically grew all its management talent within GE. Good professional football teams obtain most of their best talent from the draft, rather than frequent trades. In the legal world, certain firms (such as Latham) develop most of their talent internally, and rarely look for lateral acquisitions. Conversely, growth through acquisitions is often the sign of a weak company without any compelling strategy or vision (e.g., WorldCom). Talent grown from within is more loyal, and is often cheaper and less trouble than the lateral who is frequently bought and sold (think Terrell Owens). Today's managing partners appear to believe either that there is some "silver bullet" to be had through lateral hiring, or that they do not have time to develop sufficient talent internally to meet their profit goals.
(2) When will firms start matching their lateral recruiting strategy to a firm strategy that is based on the firm's (and the market's) reality, rather than a desire to replicate the successful strategies of the top-20 AmLaw firms (who are mostly all in NY). If your hypothesis is true(that there is a migration of partners to firms that better "fit" their practice), one would expect to see a fairly quick rationalization of the law firm industry structure. Instead, that conversion is happening fairly slowly (though I agree it is happening). It seems to me that this is because firms refuse to accept their position in the market, and believe (as all firms do) that they are a "premier firm" able to attract top rates and to generate the most sophisticated legal work.
As a result, most firms still shop for the same, or similar, lateral candidates (such as high-end securities, white collar, IP, and M&A practices). Even if mid-tier firms are successful at attracting the lateral candidate, those firms often cannot create any "synergies" with that lateral candidate, because they don't have the clients that might need the service, or because the firm's reputation does not support such a high-end practice. And, the mid-tier firm will often pay at least as much in compensation as the lateral generates in profits. Thus, there is no net benefit to the firm of bringing in the lateral partner. Eventually, either the firm becomes disillusioned with the partner, or the lateral partner becomes disillusioned with the firm and concludes that he can be more successful at a different platform. The upshot for the firm is that it invested in talent that did not stay with the firm -- a lost investment to the firm. Now, if the firm's lateral recruiting were targeted to those areas where the firm was distinctive, and different from others in the market, the firm might be better able to hold onto the talent, and create potential "synergies."
In other words, firms need to stop recruiting just for the sake of "growth," or to increase profitability, and instead invest in lateral growth only in those areas that the firm has identified as being necessary for its unique strategy (and only when that strategy is rationally tied to the market reality of who the firm is, and not who the firm would like to become). Now, if firms were sufficiently well-run that they identified their strategy several years in advance, and identified the areas in which they needed expertise, they might even be able to help senior associates and partners gain the experience and develop the skills needed, and thereby avoid lateral recruiting in the first place. But, most firms do not appear to have reached that point.
So, what more have we learned?
I'm tempted to reiterate where I began the original column, by pointing out (confessing?) that "perhaps I don't write as much as I should about lateral partners." Certainly this piece seems to have unleashed some extremely thoughtful reaction.
The reason you rarely see me writing about laterals is blisteringly simple: I have long believed that the vast majority of activity on the lateral-pursuit-seduction-&-wooing front is fundamentally misbegotten. Yet, every day of the week you encounter firms and their managing partners (well, at least you did....) who act as if the single most valuable activity they can engage in to lift their firm's fortunes is to pound the pavement for desirable laterals. And Lord knows the headhunting industry has made a living off it; never let me be the first to assume that entire sectors of the economy are premised on systemic, enduring, and irrational market failures. Yet I continue to believe that all but the most assiduously and astutely targeted lateral recruitment is a fool's game. (Here I invoke the widely recognized folk philosopher Bob Dylan to explain my reticence to write about this topic: "And don't criticize what you can't understand....")
But now that the genie is out of the bottle, I'm compelled to offer, or elaborate upon, a few observations:
- I continue to believe that on an industry-wide, macro basis, we are seeing a systematic sorting-out of talent as lawyers seek to match their skills to the most appropriate firm platforms. $1,000/hour rates are not for everyone, or for every firm, but they most assuredly are for some chosen elect and a similarly selective handful of firms. Economically speaking, the logic is compelling that those blessed souls and those firms on whom fate has showered its beneficence should get together.
- Conversely, as I wrote in the original piece, there's room in this world for lower-margin, more routine work: This is a respectable, indeed admirable, sector of any rationally organized marketplace, and firms and individuals who know themselves should rush to satisfy this demand. And no, I'm not being condescending; au contraire.
I would tell you in all honesty that I think two of the finest cars for sale today are the Toyota Camry and the Honda Accord. Neither one remotely breaks the bank and while, admittedly, neither will pin your ears back with acceleration or stun your date into a state of befuddled worship, they are very gentle on the wallet, they start, stop, and go as promised, and you can ignore and abuse them for tens of thousands of miles without complaint. Try that with a BMW and see how long it takes you to cry uncle tow truck. Toyota and Honda have achieved something truly outstanding here.
- There are other reasons to cast a jaundiced eye on excessive reliance on lateral recruitment as a core "strategy," some of which I alluded to in my first piece and some of which our enlightened commenters have pointed out:
- There will never be a substitute for home-grown talent: Not at GE, not for the Yankees, and not for your firm. To cite a home-town (NYC) firm that has a long but not rigid tradition of emphasizing up-from-the-ranks talent, Paul Weiss seems to be thriving even in these currently challenging times. Pure coincidence?
- In MBA Land, professors delight in teaching about and management gurus delight in writing about "KPI's," or "key performance indicators." What is a KPI? Well, it depends on what your company does, but if you're a retailer (think Amazon, or Dell), a KPI might be the number of inventory "turns" you can generate annually. Another might be how fast you can collect cash from your customers before you have to pay your suppliers (both those firms, amazingly, have that metric in negative territory, meaning they collect their customers' revenues well before they pay their suppliers--you might want to think of that trick next time you're tempted to indulge a client who's 90 days late and wants to be 150 days late).
But my secret suspicion is that, for every KPI, there has to be an evil twin: Call them "KRI's," or key risk indicators, which are dials on the dashboard indicating you might be headed for the guardrail, or over it. For law firms, one big KRI, in my book, is excessive and promiscuous lateral recruitment. Yes, "excessive" and "promiscuous" are both fudge phrases, but I think you know where I'm going and I think you know it when you see it. As I said originally, the best predictor of getting divorced is having been divorced. This is nothing, really, other than the flip side of home-grown talent's loyalty.
- Finally, vast is the economic literature demonstrating and recounting the phenomenon of the "winner's curse," a/k/a "buyer's remorse." It's quite simple: The winner of an auction (a bidding war for lateral partner talent, for Alex Rodriguez, or for Madonna) will be the firm that is closest to paying The Talent every last red cent The Talent can expect to marginally contribute to the firm. Which leaves the firm with....you guessed it: Nothing.
Do I suspect our fascination with lateral hiring and recruitment will go away any time soon? No, no more than corporate America's fascination with the search for CEO-as-Saviour will end and no more, for that matter, than the all too well-chronicled proclivity of the ambitious and the striving for seeking out mates other than those individuals to whom they're married.
But as a long-term strategy, I can't really bring myself to endorse either tactic.
Now, what exactly is your firm going to do about it?
Permit me to suggest you start with the intellectually challenging and culturally slippery project of defining precisely your strategic advantages and what distinguishes your firm from your competitive set in the eyes of clients.
And a last word. If you intend to go about defining the Unique Value Proposition your firm offers clients, it has to meet each of these criteria:
- It must be credible. We are not all Skadden, Wachtell, or Slaughters.
- It must be ownable. It must connect, in other words, to a visceral understanding of who your firm is and where you fit in the great Value Chain of Law Land.
- And finally, it must offer a benefit to the client. Without this final component, I invite you to beat your breastplates all you'd like; it will matter not.
Then again, if all this sounds too hard, why don't you just make a reservation at an elegant restaurant for dinner with a potential lateral?
Perhaps I don't write as much as I should about lateral partners.
I mean the economic phenomenon of lateral partner hiring, not gossip that much of the legal press seems to specialize in about specific "gotcha" movements of partners or small groups from Big Loser firm to Big Winner firm--stories whose half-life, in my experience, is measured by how long it takes for Big Winner firm to suffer a "shocking" loss of partners in its turn. Truth be told, much of it seems on the surface to be a revolving door.
Of course it's not really so simple.
If you stand back and look at the lateral partner migration phenomenon on a macro basis over the past two decades or so, what I think you see is a vast, and economically compelling, sorting-out. It's a sorting out of partners with high-margin, high-value practices migrating to firms where there are kindred souls and where the value of their practices can be maximized, and, on the other side of the coin (as it were), partners with low-margin, commoditizing, practices moving out of firms less willing to support those practice areas and into firms where they still feel welcome.
If you were to graph this in a conceptual way, I surmise you'd find something along these lines:
- People specializing in white collar crime, corporate governance investigations, tax litigation, high-end M&A (well, at least until last September 15), securities litigation, and other "high end" practices are by and large moving to firms with higher PPP's and greater prestige.
- Generalists in commercial litigation or corporate transactions are probably churning around a bit but not, on the whole, moving up or down the food chain as a cohort.
- And those in now-disfavored areas such as T&E, employment, or generic real estate are moving down-market to less prestigious firms with lower PPP.
This is a surmise, as I said, but I would like to believe an informed one.
Why, you may be asking, would anyone voluntarily move down-market? They wouldn't, and they don't. They have no choice. Firms that have decided they no longer care to be in the business of (say) T&E or employment simply make it clear there is no long-term home for them, and so they find a home where they can. Nobody guaranteed you a rose garden.
What else can we say about lateral partner movement?
The primary, most important, and most amazing thing to say about it is that it's both something many firms have obsessed about for the past many years (decades?) and that by and large we're terrible at making it work.
One managing partner recently told me that his firm's batting average was 1 in 3: One lateral in three succeeds. Another told me that they seem to have equal shares people who hit home runs and those who unceremoniously ground into double-plays--and that no matter how hard they analyze everything, they can't tell which will be which up front. They continue to be surprised both by who succeeds and who flames out.
Indeed, this mirrors my own experience.
For many firms, for the past many years, a core part of their strategy has simply been "lateral acquisition." And the primary reason I haven't written about it much, if at all, here on Adam Smith, Esq., is because I simply don't know what intelligent observations can be offered on that "strategy" in general. So much depends on the specifics of (a) clients; (b) cultural fit; (c) timing; (d) sexiness or sudden lack thereof of the practice area being sought [remember the firms who paid at the top of the market for private equity folks?--I do]; (e) receptivity or hostility by the incumbent partners; (f) emotional and intellectual flexibility of the incoming lateral; and (g) did I mention culture?
In other words, it's hard to discuss a "strategy" that is so hyper-dependent on intensely local and personal considerations of chemistry and nuance.
Two last observations before I move on to what I think is actually new and different and fascinating in today's lateral marketplace.
First, there's ample evidence from the worlds of celebrity entertainers and sports stars that marquee names tend to capture essentially the entire present discounted value of their economic contribution to the firm (the record label, the movie studio, the Yankees), leaving very little if any "surplus" for the acquiring firm. While the data in law-firm land to examine this question are, systemically, sorely lacking, it's worth thinking about. (I cite entertainment and sports only because they have a wealth of publicly available data which economists have glommed on to in order to analyze who "captures" the value of the Big Name.)
Second, we have the unfortunate phenomenon of the serial killer mover. You know the type: They'll move for a 10-15-20% bump in pay (preferably with a guarantee, thank you very much), ply their trade for a few years until their new host gets tired of them or cottons to their game of large promises and underdelivering, and then they'll move on again. If clients ask me about folks like this, all I can say is that the best predictor of getting divorced is having been divorced.
This brings me to why I wanted to write about lateral partners now.
I detect a new reason for lateral partner movement, which I've never seen before.
I characterize it as laterals motivated to move because they're asking themselves, and implicitly their firms, "What's the plan here?" And not finding a persuasive answer.
Some context:
- I'm not talking about laterals tempted to move by a 10--15% bump in compensation. If somebody moves for that "reason," you can bet there's something else really going on.
- I'm also not talking about extremely senior (in years, that is) laterals who may be about to bump up against their firms' mandatory retirement age and are looking for an escape hatch; that's not the type of "what's the plan?" I mean.
Rather, I'm talking about youngish to middle-aged laterals who can realistically envision another 20 or 30 years of productive laboring in the vineyard, who look at their firm's reaction to the Great Reset we're living through and who do not perceive a credible response. Firms, in other words, without "a plan."
Now, if you're 55 or so and up, this scarcely matters. Momentum, if nothing else (market shares, and perceptions, lag reality by years), will carry you through safely to retirement.
But what if you're 35 or 40, or even 50 and are allergic to the concept of "retirement?" Then you have a serious problem if your firm appears to be clueless in responding to the seismic changes afoot.
I see this in laterals' resumes now coming out of firms they never used to come out of. And it's not about the money, and it is most assuredly not about the "prestige." Not that these people are going down-market; that's the last thing they need to do. They're simply going "sideways-market," which in and of itself makes little sense; thus my hypothesis that something else is going on.
The most important conclusion I can draw from this is that strategy matters. It matters if for no other reason than your partners now believe, perhaps for the first time in their careers, that it matters. People didn't used to shuffle between firms because they feared the ship they were on was rudderless, or captained by intellectually absentee management. This is what's new.
And here's my diagnostic suggestion for you: If your firm has recently lost a few people, ask yourself--really ask yourself--why they left. And if your firm is seeing great resumes, particularly resumes of a caliber you didn't typically used to see, ask those people what's motivating them. Dollars to doughnuts it's not the money. I bet it's the strategy.
According to the most recent fossil record discoveries, life on Earth dates back about 3,450-million years. But for about the first 85% of that time span, organisms were extremely simple, composed of individual cells, occasionally organized into colonies. Pretty dull.
Then something striking happened, about 530-million years ago, which is now known as the "Cambrian explosion." For reasons not entirely understood--oxygen reaching critical levels in the atmosphere? more sophisticated predator/prey competition? an immediately preceding mass extinction? "co-evolution" of related species?--evolution came up with a brilliant invention: Mutli-cellular life.
Multicellular life, as expressed in the Cambrian explosion, is not just aggregate-cellular life. It's organisms with structure, with layers, appendages, limbs conducing to mobility, eyes, ears, and dedicated noses, protective carapaces, offensive tools such as teeth and claws, and essentially the entire array of what we customarily think of as the Lego blocks that can go into making up modern-day and even prehistoric animals. (Something similar happened with an explosion in the diversity of land-based plants about 400-million years ago, in the Devonian period.)
This is a quantum leap.
A profusion of widely diverse body types and anatomical plans arose, some constituting direct predecessors to animal life as we recognize it today (for example, if it's mobility you're after, four limbs--not more, not less--turn out to be really useful). Many many other plans, almost certainly the majority, were less optimally adapted and now belong to extinct lineages--such as Opabinia, with five eyes and a nose like a fire hose, or Wiwaxia, an armored slug with two rows of protective upright scales.
Interestingly enough, the Cambrian explosion was sufficiently powerful, diverse, and creative that no design template for a modern animal post-dates it. In other words, structurally and conceptually, pretty much every animal we see had a recognizable predecessor dating to this period. To be sure, evolution can produce shockingly powerful advances given a few hundred million years, but the point is that it was the seminal moment in the creation of multi-cellular life, where "a thousand flowers bloomed." While many were proven more or less in short order to be false starts and dead ends, the point is that the intensity of experimentation led to some extremely durable and well-proven animal models.
Take a look (click to play the 25-second PBS video):
What has this to do with BigLaw?
My thesis is that since, say, around 1980, we've been living in an ecological mono-culture: We have all been one-celled creatures, in the sense that we have all had one and only one strategy: Growth.
Aside from our "mono-strategy" as an industry, we have had:
- Mono-associate career paths (8 years, plus or minus, of lockstep to partnership);
- Mono revenue models (the billable hour);
- Mono levers for increasing profitability (primarily, by increasing leverage);
- And mono techniques for gaining competitive advantage (primarily, lateral partner recruitment).
I believe we're on the cusp of our own "Cambrian explosion," where we may begin to see a wealth of experimentation with different business models.
If the Cambrian explosion of 540-million years ago is any guide, there will be a lot of false starts and dead ends, a/k/a extinct species and firms. But there will also be some far-seeing, fast-running, high-flying, incalculably intelligent designs.
Stay tuned for the next installment in this series.
Hogan & Hartson/Lovells?
As amply reported (Legal Week, The National Law Journal, The Lawyer), the firms are in merger talks and, since no one is remotely denying the reports, we can only assume it's all quite for real.
We'll get to what we think it means in a moment, but first, to the numbers:
| |
Hogan & Hartson |
Lovells |
| Revenue* |
US $922.5-million |
US $984.5-million |
| % change Year over Year |
+4.9% |
+10.9% |
| PEP |
$1,160,000 |
$932,000 |
| % change Year over Year |
-1.7% |
-11.3% |
| Revenue per Lawyer |
$835,000 |
$695,000 |
| Number of partners |
202 equity/494 total |
370 |
| Number of lawyers |
1,111 |
1,421 |
| Non-home country offices |
14 |
27 |
| Non-home country lawyers |
23% |
82% |
| 5-year CAGR of Revenue per Lawyer |
+5% |
+5% |
| 5-year CAGR of Profits per Partner |
+9% |
+8% |
*All figures in US$, using a conversion ratio of 1.594 $/£.
In addition, cities where both firms have offices are:
- New York
- London
- Hong Kong
- Beijing
- Paris
- Tokyo
- Munich
- Moscow
On a pro forma basis, the combined firm--assuming a complete merger--would have these characteristics:
- Revenue: $1.9-billion
- Number of lawyers: >2,500
- Global rank: Neck and neck with Latham & Watkins and Allen & Overy, all in a horse race for Global Firm #7:
- DLA Piper: $2.26-billion
- Linklaters: $2.23-billion
- Freshfields: $2.21-billion
- Skadden: $2.20-billion
- Baker & McKenzie: $2.19-billion
- Clifford Chance: $2.16-billion
- Latham & Watkins ($1.92-billion), Hogan/Lovells (roughly $1.9-billion), Allen & Overy ($1.88-billion)
Finally, the practice mix would seem at first glance to be highly complementary. Hogan is known especially for its regulatory/government law practices, antitrust, litigation, intellectual property, real estate, and a substantial level of corporate work. Lovells, somewhat unusual for a UK-based firm, also has a relatively robust litigation practice and is less deal-driven than (say) the Magic Circle, as well as having strong real estate, antitrust, and regulatory law capabilities.
So: What does this really mean?
Already the naysayers, of course, are keening about the challenges and the obstacles. To be fair, the commentary has not been uniformly negative, with (for example) Alex Novarese of Legal Week saying that "at first glance, there appears much to commend this union," but he is quite the exception.
A sampling:
- "Merger-averse Hogan" supposedly reversing field;
- "partner compensation is, of course, a tougher challenge;"
- "transatlantic deals are fiendishly difficult to pull off;" and "transcontinental mergers have a mixed [read: dubious] history;"
- "US/UK deals are notoriously difficult to secure given the challenge of marrying differing partner compensation and accounting models;"
- "it's not clear what a merger would do for the combined firms' profitability;" and, of course, the inevitable
- "there could also be conflict over whether control of the combined firm would reside in Washington or London."
I'm here to tell you that it's time for us all to just get over ourselves.
So far as I can tell (no insider knowledge here, folks, sorry to report), this deal makes superb sense.
For how many years/decades/centuries have major corporations been doing transatlantic business on a routine basis? And somehow they have been managing to smooth out the differences between the pound sterling and the dollar, the differences between compensation expectations in the US and the UK (not to mention New York and London specifically), the differences between driving on the right and on the left, and of course the grain of truth in the famous quip about being "divided by a common language."
As for the New York/London divide specifically, we are informed by a UK legal publication that the architects of this deal should be grateful Hogan doesn't have its roots here in the Empire State: "A conservatively-run practice like Hogan, with a centre of gravity outside the brittle egos of Manhattan, shouldn't be the hardest American firm to align with a UK practice." [Note to visitors to the home office of "Adam Smith, Esq.:" Please check your egos at the door; we do.]
Are there challenges? Of course; there are challenges to running each of the firms today, as they stand alone. Would the challenge of running the combination be twice as great? Perhaps, but I doubt it--at least it would decline over time, and in the meantime there would be double the resources to devote to the challenges. Combinations that have far more moving parts than this one (just to pick a current example, Kraft/Cadbury) are pulled off routinely in CorporateLand. Why do we presume market forces end where legal services begin?
More importantly, do you see what's going on here?
Each of the obligatory reservations stated to the deal--partner compensation, the putative transatlantic "challenge," whether Washington or London would "win"--is at bottom a rather shameless exercise in navel-gazing.
When I said it's time for us to "get over ourselves," this is precisely what I meant. So far, the tenor of discussion about this proposed merger has been--at least when it shifts from pure journalistic reporting to implied or overt opinion--about as sophisticated as sports bar debates. (I am compelled to note one outstanding exception, which I would like to believe serves to prove my rule, namely the thoughtful commentary by Aric Press, "What a Hogan/Lovells Merger Would Mean.")
This is potentially a transaction that will change a conspicuous portion of the BigLaw landscape globally. Prattle as we may about the "globalization" of the profession, the Global 100 law firms are still (for reasons that have understandable, if archaic, roots in history and regulation-by-jurisdiction) almost shockingly insular, domestically rooted institutions. Of those 100--pop quiz--how many have:
- Over 50% of their lawyers outside their home country? Only 10 (yes, including Lovells, and counting DLA worldwide and DLA international as one firm).
- And of those 10, how many are of US origin? Two, namely White & Case and Baker & McKenzie.
- Between 30 and 45% of their lawyers outside the home country? Again, only 10, with a somewhat more respectable 7 of US origin.
- And below the 30% bar, the pickings get slim indeed, including some heavyweight name brands with surprisingly low numbers. For example? I would argue that if at least 3 out of 4 of your lawyers are in your home country, you're not yet seriously international. Here are some candidates (not to single these out, just to make a point):
- Sullivan & Cromwell: 22% of lawyers non-US based
- Skadden: 16%
- Sidley Austin: 16%
- Davis Polk: 13%
- Simpson Thacher: 11%
- &c.
The point is simply this: As an industry, we are not nearly as "internationalized" as our clients, and certainly not remotely as global as the premier clients we all aspire to serve.
It sounds to me as though the leadership of Lovells and of Hogan & Hartson are focusing on genuine strategic objectives and not on "who's on first."
We all need to grow up, snap out of our self-referential and unappealingly self-regarding reveries, and seriously contemplate what this may portend. And from my perspective, it will all be good. Overdue, but good.
Pop quiz: Which of these would be worse:
- Learning that, based on economic performance, lawyers in your practice group (including yourself) would be getting year-end raises smaller than average across the firm; or
- Feeling that you, individually, are being systematically shunned by the head of your practice group.
If you answered (b), welcome to the Mammal population.
I'm not being facetious. Neuroscientific research described in Managing with the Brain in Mind, (Booz & Co., Strategy + Business, Issue 56, Autumn 2009, p. 59--not yet published online, but keep an eye on their site) demonstrates that mammals perceive the feeling of emotional exclusion (based on activity in the "suffering" region of the brain) as the neurological equivalent of the distress associated with physical pain.
According to Naomi Eisenberger, the UCLA researcher who designed the study reaching this conclusion (involving fMRI's and a rigged computer game, since you asked), "Most proesses operating in the background when your brain is at rest are involved in thinking about other people and yourself."
What does this mean to you as a manager? Plenty.
As social animals, and as mammals animals extraordinarily dependent on the support of members of our community, work is not a financial transaction, not a quid pro quo of compensation in exchange for behavior. It's social interaction, where being given an assignment we feel unworthy of, being reprimanded (fairly or unfairly), or feeling excluded are far more devastatingly negative experiences than the differenceof a few dollars, or thousands of dollars, at the end of the month.
So what?
Don't think you can treat people--especially highly talented professionals--like a hydraulic system or internal combustion engine, where you adjust the richness of the incoming fuel/air ratio (compensation) and get corresponding horsepower out of the system.
Now, this is not news to anyone who's legitimately earned a role in management (and who has any memory whatsoever of the schoolyard playground), but what's shocking to me is how often this core human insight is honored in the breach in large and medium size firms.
Before, we might have thought that leaders who were empathetic enough to engage
employees' strongest talents, support and encourage collaborative teams, and
generally create an environment fostering productivity and creativity were
"nice to have's." But the reason I bring this new research
to your attention is it argues strongly that such leadership is a lot more
than that: It's indispensable to high-performing organizations.
In an important sense this new research challenges Abraham Maslow's famous
"hierarchy
of needs," which posits that higher needs can only be met once lower-level
needs are satisfied and which ranks the "hierarchy," from bottom to top, as
follows:
- physiological survival, such as breathing, sleep, food, and clothing;
- safety, such as personal and financial security, and health;
- social, such as friendship, intimacy, and family
- esteem, both from others and self-esteem; and finally
- self-actualization.
But if being hungry, being physically threatened (by a snake, let's say, a
vicious-looking dog, or a reckless driver), and being socially ostracized all
trigger the same response in the brain--which this research confirms--then
"merely social" needs start to appear more fundamental. Coincidentally, we got unintentional but powerful confirmation of where "social" needs fit, in what otherwise would have seemed a small bit of news this weekend: The story was that three fishermen were rescued after spending 9 days 200 miles off the Gulf Coast on top of a capsized boat---one day after the Coast Guard called off the rescue efforts as in vain, and by sheer accident as a sharp-eyed guy on a passing boat spotted what he first thought was an innertube and went to investigate. The story continued that the three had survived on a few gallons of fresh water serendipitously saved from the boat, a box of crackers, "and some bubble gum." (The nutritional value of bubble gum being a topic that had hitherto not crossed our minds.) But what's germane about the story? When asked by the inevitable reporter looking for a "human reaction," "What was the hardest part of the 9 days?," the spokesman for the three replied: "Right around the fifth day we just really all wanted somebody else to talk to." Bingo. You're hanging on for dear life to a useless boat in the middle of the Gulf with dwindling and palpably inadequate resources of food and water, hope for rescue diminishing by the day, and you report that "the hardest part" of the ordeal was being deprived of human companionship? I did not make this story up.
Making this more important is what happens when the threat response is triggered,
as hunger, danger, and ostracism all do: Analytic thinking and creative
insight go right out the window, and in a professional, performance-driven
setting, just what people need most deserts them.
Lest you think that this is all about avoiding dysfunctional human behavior, the good news from the new wave of neuroscientific research is "that the brain is highly plastic. Even the most entrenched behaviors can be modified." Neural connections are not static from adolescence (or thereabouts) onward, as once was thought:
Neural connections can be reformed, new behaviors can be learned, and even the most entrenched behaviors can be modified at any age. The brain will make these shifts only when it is engaged in mindful attention. This is the state of thought associated with observing one's own mental processes (or, in an organization, stepping back to observe the flow of a conversation as it is happening). Mindfulness requires both serenity and concentration; in a threatened state, people are much more likely to be "mindless." Their attention is diverted by the threat, and they cannot easily move to self-discovery.
What conditions, then, might conduce to "mindful attention," or at least to a disposition to collaborate instead of to clam up, to suggest imaginative or creative approaches instead of reproducing the last matter's approach by rote, or to truly engaged conversations instead of what we often get instead, punctuated monologues?
Again, the new research provides evidence that the predisposing conditions include:
- status
- certainty
- autonomy
- relatedness
- fairness.
Status is something we are constantly evaluating: Higher, lower, the same? In whose eyes? And high status is very important: It correlates with higher longevity and health (even adjusting for income, education, etc.). In a firm, the key point is that which indicators of status people value depend on the perceived values of the organization. If the firm is all about rewarding rainmakers, then the only "status" signal that matters is compensation. If the firm is committed to training and professional development, then recognition for increasing levels of professional competence and excellence will be at least as valuable in terms of morale-boosting and teamwork as serious raises.
Certainty is valued simply because its opposite, uncertainty, requires so much energy and attention, a/k/a distraction. Take this with a grain of salt: Moderate uncertainty (will we win the client? will we win the oral argument? will she go to bed with me the client approve our strategy?) can increase tension in very positive, creative, and energizing ways.
But too much uncertainty is simply exhausting. We have to pay so much attention to what seems like a series of unknown but potential threats (each one of which has to be assessed, discussed, and worried about) that we can't focus on what we're actually here to do. Particularly when change is on the agenda--especially if it's internally at the firm--all-hands efforts to reduce uncertainty are called for. Explain the rationale for change and then explain it again. Be reassuring not by assertion that everything will be fine but by explaining what is entailed and--one can hope--letting the logic of the change speak for itself.
Autonomy is an uber-value for lawyers. But it's important across the board, because the more autonomy one feels one has, the more capable one is of dealing with "the same" level of stress. The classic example is people who can control the hours they work vs. those who can't. A 40-, 50-, 60-, or even 70-hour week is relatively manageable if one feels in control of when one will be working and when not. But if quixotic and unpredictable forces from above dictate when you'll be working and when not, far fewer total hours can be worked productively before total burn-out sets in.
With lawyers in particular, be exquisitely sensitive to their perceived need for autonomy. Present options, not mandates; alternatives, not requirements; and offer independence wherever possible.
Relatedness goes right back to the old "friend or foe" distinction we all come hard-wired with. New people perceived as different may not be embraced in a spontaneous one-for-all hug. But if you lay the groundwork for new people to meet through social events (partner retreats, anyone?), the path will be smoothed towards accepting them as colleagues down the road.
Fairness may be the most critical ingredient of all. How many of you can sympathize with an executive who, when asked why he'd been at the same firm for 22 years, responded, "Because they always did the right thing."
Conversely, leaders perceived as having an "inner circle," whiffs of clubbiness, croniness, or old boys' networks, will destroy the perception of fairness in a heartbeat.
Particularly in times like these when cutbacks and pain are on the agenda, they must be perceived as fairly distributed, equitably arrived at, objectively parceled out, and explainable in common sense sentences containing words of few syllables.
What might all this mean for you as a leader?
Apply it to yourself, is the short answer.
Give people latitude to make their own mistakes (at least where it's not mission-critical). Buttress economic incentives with social reinforcement. If you're inclined to micromanage, try to wean yourself from the habit (it doesn't help your targets, and in the long run it doesn't help you).
The beauty of learning how to read your own reactions better, as a leader, is that once you're more comfortable in the zone of uncertainty, others will pick up on that cue and be able to relax into doing their real work rather than obsessively second-guessing your decisions. Don't be afraid to be spontaneous; it shows you're real and increases confidence.
The acid test may be this: Do you trust your colleagues in the firm to rise to the highest professional standards because that's what they believe in, because they feel confident their status entitles them to make autonomous decisions, and because they know they'll be treated fairly if they exercise their best judgment, regardless of the outcome?
As I said at the outset, you may think all this is obvious. I commend you if you know it all already. But the new research shows how profoundly grounded in our human and animal natures is the need for reinforcement of the social, not just the economic, context of our daily work.
Oh, and where do we fit in the Linnaean table?
Domain: Eukarya
Kingdom: Animalia
Phylum: Chordata
Subphylum: Vertebrata
Infraphylum: Gnathostomata
Superclass: Tetrapoda
(unranked) Amniota
Class: Mammalia
Linnaeus, 1758
Among the phrases, and phenomena, that now seem so hopelessly "last August"
is that of the fabled Work-Life Balance. ("So last August" has been a
phrase around town for several months now, referring especially to examples
of wretched indulgent excess, but by extension to almost anything dependent
on an economy in overdrive.) More on work-life balance (WLB) in a moment,
but first consider what happened during a mere 19 days last September. It
wasn't just the fall of Lehman:
- 7th September 2008: Fannie Mae & Freddie Mac nationalized
- 14th: Bank of America buys Merrill Lynch
- 15th: Lehman Brothers bankruptcy, one of the largest in American
history
- 16th: Reserve Primary money market fund "breaks the buck"
- 16th: Fed gives AIG $85-billion in exchange for a 79.9% equity warrant
- 22nd: Investment banks go extinct: Goldman Sachs and Morgan
Stanley become bank holding companies
- 25th: Washington Mutual seized by FDIC--biggest bank failure
in US history
Any single one of these headlines would have been eye-popping, but the concatenation
of all of them in such a compressed period of time clearly signaled the world
was changing.
And among the things that have changed is all of the talk about WLB. First,
let's simply try to understand what the loaded phrase "WLB" entails. I
think it's pretty simple: It's merely the sense that the demands of the
profession have gotten out of whack with the rewards. You can solve for
this inequality either by finding greater rewards in your professional pursuits--but
there's no handy or obvious volume knob that adjusts your reward level, and
it's usually a long and extended process of introspection and, more than anything,
trial and error, to attain that blissful state--or you can decrease the
demands so as to align them with the rewards. WLB was, for better or
worse, always assumed to mean the latter. And in fairness we know how
to achieve the latter: Basically, work fewer hours and/or less intensely
while you do.
There's just one problem with that, and it's an enormous one. If you
believe the thesis of books such as Talent
is Overrated, you can never
achieve professional excellence (and the satisfaction that flows from it)
without something on the order of investing 10,000 hours in "deliberate practice,"
which is the demanding exercise of pushing the limits of what you're comfortable
with in order to improve.
Two other aspects of WLB I will studiously not discuss here include whether
it's primarily a women's issue, and whether it's a Gen Y/Millennial issue. Why
not? The first craven and meanspirited assumption ghettoizes half the
human race, and the second amounts to the feckless and self-indulgent
attempt to "stand astride history, yelling 'stop!'." The point
is that neither engages WLB on the merits; both are nasty and somewhat immature ad
hominem reflexes.
My theory about WLB is rather simpler: It waxes and wanes in synch with
demand and supply in the lawyer talent market:
- When the economy, deal-making, and firms are all booming, and when the
greatest constraint on capacity is available talent, firms will worship at
the shrine of WLB in order to try to make themselves attractive to a wider
cohort of the (fixed number) of law school graduates.
- When, as now, voluntary attrition is nonexistent and law students are entering
recruiting season with expectations ranging from "extremely confident law-reviewers
to those expecting to receive zero offers" (as a top 10 school student reported
to me in an email), or when students are offering to work for name-brand
firms for free (also a true story), then the balance of negotiating
power has shifted.
I offer as anecdote this
January 2008 story from the NYT, "Who's
Cuddly Now? Law Firms," celebrating that:
"There are things happening everywhere, enough to call it a movement," said
Deborah Epstein Henry, who founded Flex-Time Lawyers, a consulting firm that
creates initiatives encouraging work-life balance for law firms, with an emphasis
on the retention and promotion of women. "The firms don't think of it as a
movement, because it is happening in isolation, one firm at a time. But if
you step back and see the whole puzzle, there is definitely real change."
The article also noted the efforts of the suddenly-invisible "Law Students
Building a Better Legal Profession" and their efforts to rank firms based on
how well they treat associates.
Both seem certain signs of a "market top" in WLB.
But I believe there's something else even more important here.
As Jack Welch put
it last month with his trademark directness, "There's no such thing
as work-life balance. There are work-life choices, and you
make them, and they have consequences." He added that you shouldn't
be surprised if you're passed over for promotions if "you're not there
in the clutch."
I would only refine what he has to say slightly, to adapt it to the context
of law land: There are elite, high-performance firms, playing at
the top of the global game, and they are not "lifestyle" firms. They
never will be. Don't kid yourself. Or, as the New York vernacular
puts it, "Fugghedaboutit!"
These firms, I hasten to add, are not for everyone. Neither are "lifestyle"
firms for everyone.
My point is simpler: One and the same firm cannot be both.
If you doubt me, the people (or at least readers of LegalWeek) have
voted:

But the fun is that you get to vote as well. We'll keep
track of the results and have a followup piece in the near future.
Last week I had a chance to sit down with Tomasz Wardynski, founding partner
of Wardynski & Partners,
based in Warsaw, which is now a firm of close to 250 people including 137 lawyers
with 22 partners, of whom 9 are equity and 13 are salaried or limited partners.
I
was looking for perspective on the Eastern and Central European markets, and
Tomasz was more than prepared to oblige.
"2010 will be very very tough," he began. "There is no more
inertia" remaining in the system from the end of the boom. Therefore,
he opined, the challenge for senior management is to "change the partners'
attitudes." Tomasz was pellucidly clear that it was not optional
for partners to decide whether to go along.
"For the first time in my firm, the equity partners will need to make substantial
investments of capital." And if someone resists making the capital
contribution? "Well,
then, they won't be an equity partner, will they? That is always their
choice." And: "It's really very simple: You need
to make sure you have fewer people than there is work to do."
Recently the firm has shifted to pure lockstep compensation of partners. Previously,
there had been a small retention, which was then distributed in the discretion
of management, but they decided to end it because "it involved too much emotion: not
worth it." Progress through the lockstep is based on a subjective
evaluation of performance plus an expectation of 2,000 hours/year, "which is
not very demanding, after all."
"How do you train people?"
"Well, this is an issue because the universities are not very good at it. It's
a combination of watching, lectures, and the firm's own 'development center.'" Training
clearly represents a substantial investment by, and commitment on behalf of,
the firm.
The path to partnership is 8 to 10 years, during which associates are paid
based on merit: "Some of them make more than limited partners."
How does he feel about media coverage of the legal industry?
"Rankings are put together by smart media outlets to play to the vanity of
lawyers." And, he added in emphatic words, those rankings are extremely
detrimental to the profession. "Perhaps the only media phenomenon that's
more destructive than rankings is the American Lawyer profits-per-partner numbers. This
is simply awful; they have transformed the profession,
and they claim innocence. Preposterous."
Clearly, Tomasz believes the AmLaw PPP numbers are not only a caustic influence
on behavior, but borderline fraudulent. The problem with the PPP numbers'
accuracy? "Running
a law firm is a cash business. But if I want to inflate profits by accruing
some expenses and some revenues, I can come up with any numbers you like."
Tomasz expressed a strong belief in highly professional management of his
firm. "Five years ago we started introducing professional management
systems into the business--human resources, information technology, knowledge
management, and coaching for all lawyers." Surely not all lawyers,
I interjected? "Well, yes, all. And we have a very strong
CFO who manages our finances extremely closely."
What's your biggest management challenge in this environment?
"The hardest problem to deal with is people who are very talented but who
don't have enough work to do. That's the hardest by far."
What else are you dealing with that's new?
"Last year we decided not to pay out profits from the firm above the level
of partners' standard draw. This is a protective measure." And
how long will you keep this in place? "I foresee a downturn in
the shape of an 'L,' not a 'V.'"
Let's step back, I suggest: Why did you decide to start the firm?
"I had no choice but to start the firm. I had clients needing to
get deals done."
And did you envision its growing so large?
Without missing a beat: "Yes. We were clearly in the right
place at the right time."
What other issues are you facing today that are new?
"The next issue will be whether clients can pay. The challenge
of course is that you can't really protect yourself because you can't demand
payment up-front, and you can't sue clients."
What else? How about keeping the talent pipeline flowing?
"Yes, absolutely! You cannot stop recruiting, so all you can do
is to share the risk with people, to the extent they can bear it. This
recession may last a long time."
Other worries?
"That state intervention--not just in Eastern Europe, but in the
US, the UK, conceivably even Asia--may suppress investment and entrepreneurship. The
very notion that some institutions are 'too big to fail' is monstrous. Failure
is what some of these banks richly deserve; they have it coming to them. The
namesake of your site would be apoplectic."
How's the regional CEE environment?
"Poland actually has +0.8% growth this year; it's not great, but it's
greater than zero.
"Hungary has been suffering for two years.
"Latvia is very bad.
"Ukraine: Disaster!"
But overall Tomasz remains an optimist:
"Life is strong, and it will
continue. The economy will be boiling again in places where it seems
unimaginable today.
"What really counts at this moment is discipline. People have
to be mobilized. You cannot lose...[he appears to be momentarily, and
uncharacteristically, searching for a word]. You cannot lose speed!
"Even the strong-willed, independent, and autonomous partners have to believe
in central management in this environment. It's too dangerous not to. Not
only our livelihoods, but the welfare of our families and our children are
at stake.
"Life is not a fairy-tale."

Doubtless over the weekend many of you read the NYT's
longish story, "A
Study in Why Major Law Firms Are Shrinking." Truth in labeling
would have changed the headline to "A Profile of White & Case So Far
This Year," but perhaps that might not have drawn so many readers (according
to the Times' website, the story was the second-most emailed of the day). In
journalism,
I suppose you have to do what you have to do to corral readers--not
that there's anything wrong with that.
Many of you probably read, as well, "The
Economy Is Still at the Brink," on the op-ed page, by Sandy Lewis
and William Cohan (fourth-most emailed of the day). I'd like to suggest
how these two stories intersect.
I. White & Case
The White & Case story, it pains and annoys me to say, is fundamentally
incoherent--at least if you're looking for a consistent through-line theory
of how "major law firms [should address] shrinking"--or even
whether White & Case itself has done the right or smart thing. My
irritation at the story is simple: If the
august Times is
to devote this much prominent ink to the number one issue challenging our industry,
you wish they could have at least come up with a plausible diagnosis and a
debatable prognosis.
There are even credibility-puncturing copy-editing
errors. I won't dwell on relative minutiae, but in this one phrase
alone I detect two bloopers: "The firm, which is sixth on the Hildebrandt
list, reported a 7.7 percent increase in profits last year, to $1.4 billion,..." The
"Hildebrandt list" referred to is the "Peer Monitor Economic
Index," which
is a composite
of law firm market performance intended, roughly speaking, to
be an analogue to the S&P 500 for law firms. As best I know (and
I'm quite familiar with the PMI), it's an aggregate index and not a ranking. Suspiciously,
however, White & Case was #6 in the AmLaw 100 in 2009 and in 2008,
so that's probably what the Times is inartfully and inaccurately trying
to refer to. Second, of course, the firm's "profits" were not $1.4-billion,
although its revenue was $1.467-billion, which was up 6.8% year on year.
Here, by the way, is the 1st Quarter 2009 PMI (I've added the
arrow to make the "smoothed" results more conspicuous:

But to more substantive matters.
The most frustrating aspect of the article is its promiscuous
mixture of the certainly-true with the scarcely-plausible. For example?
At the root of the law-firm crisis, legal experts say, is the
credit crisis, which has pulverized the need for traditional practice areas
like structured finance, mergers and acquisitions and private-equity transactions
-- the very things that have always kept a high gleam of polish on the city's
whitest shoes. The downward trend has been unrelenting: fewer Wall Street deals
mean fewer Wall Street lawyers.
While the legal industry is hardly battling
the existential threat that is facing, say, the newspaper trade, Big Law --
especially in competitive New York -- is facing a potential paradigm shift as
fundamental as the one that has hit investment banks and the auto industry.
Big, as a business model (let alone as an expression of the national mood),
seems bound for obsolescence.
The first of these paragraphs is inarguable, but the second leaves
your eyes squinting and your brow furrowed. Big, as a business model,
is obsolete? Have Wal-Mart and Exxon heard about this? (For that
matter, in its own world, has The New York Times?)
Far more accurate it would be to say what Hugh Verrier, W&C's chair,
does:
Mr. Verrier ... suggested there was still "a vital role for
the global law firm," even while acknowledging an increased tendency among
clients to seek out regional firms for certain work. "Is there a paradigm
shift?" he asked, seated in a 40th-floor conference room with a privileged
view of Times Square. "I don't think anyone has a monopoly on what the future's
going to bring."
Isn't this precisely the case? Aren't we likely to see
a relative profusion of law firm business models in the very near future? And
yes, very much including global firms as a "vital" part of that mix?
The mantra of BigLaw from about 2001 (or, arguably, 1991) through
the third quarter September 15 of 2008 was: Growth. Growth
was thought to be the universal solvent, the only strategy one needed, and
we lived to some extent in a mono-culture.
That is most assuredly no longer the case. Among other
things, this means the challenge to senior management is to take a hard look
at their strategy in light of today's new reality. I've written before that what worked yesterday has zero assurance of working tomorrow. (Not
zero probability--you might be splendidly positioned for the new landscape,
and I could quickly name several firms that are. But zero "assurance,"
meaning you cannot take yesterday's conventional wisdom as still
settled today.)
One aspect of the new reality that the Times piece
gets right is how emotionally tough this is--even for those fortunate
enough to still be at their firms. Senior management underestimates
this at their peril. As I say, the Times deserves credit for
identifying this very real phenomenon, the profound, even identity-undermining,
changes that have already taken place, with more to come. An unnamed
"longtime partner at a big New York litigation firm" describes it:
"For the first time in their lives, people feel sort of useless.
All of a sudden, you can go to lunch for two and a half hours and really not
be missed. It's a blow to the ego. You're talking about people who have never
really failed."
A "top partner" at White & Case expresses similar thoughts,
but with the additional fillip (and a common one) that the marketplace reality
of having to make tough business decisions has sapped the blood of what it
means to be a partnership:
"When you finally make the partnership, you can walk into a
room and certain assumptions travel with you: This is someone who knows what
they are doing, who has intelligence and authority," the partner said.
"While
that's still basically the case, it was a much more collegial place when I
first got to the firm. Now it's colder. "The loyalty of the institution to
its people, and vice versa, isn't really there anymore -- it's a different
animal from what a lot of us were used to. It's much more of a business now
and less of a true partnership. The problem is we're supposed to all be in
this together. But at some point, you stop and think: 'Well, mayb e we're not.'
"
Covington's Philip Howard,
famous for his clarion calls for
"common
sense" in the law, is also brought into the mix to opine that "as
the bottom line increases in importance, the traditional role of the lawyer
as a trusted counselor slips away," although he would seem to disqualify himself
as an expert on the issue by frankly and commendably admitting that "I'm not
really interested in the business of the law."
I've written
earlier about what I view as the preposterously
false dichotomy between running firms as businesses and maintaining impeccable
standards of professionalism, so I won't rehash that debate here. But
my take on the supposed inconsistency in a nutshell is that nothing provides
a firmer foundation from which to exercise rigorously objective professional
judgment than rock solid underlying firm financials, and that in turn clients
pay top dollar only to "trusted counselors" whose judgment comes with a backbone
of steel.
II. The Economy is Still at the
Brink
The theme of this column is aptly summarized in the title: Despite
every effort of the Obama Administration and the Fed to restore confidence
in the economy, it takes a lot more than mere confidence to restore the foundation
of a healthy economy (inserted subheads and emphasis mine).
Forgive
the extended excerpt, but not only is this one of the better analyses I've
read lately, it also happens to coincide with my profound skepticism that
there are "green shoots" of recovery in evidence. I will grant,
more precisely, that there may be such green shoots, but I also predict
they could be covered over again with snow; I do not believe, in other words,
that winter is over.
Confidence Alone Is Not Enough: We Need Fundamentally
Sound Foundations
If the mood is right, the capital will flow. But this belief
is dangerously misguided. We are sympathetic to the extraordinary challenge
the president faces, but if we've learned anything at all two years into the
worst financial crisis of our lifetimes, it is that a
capital-markets system this dependent on public confidence is a shockingly
inadequate foundation upon which to rest our economy.
Wishing Won't Make It So
We have both spent large chunks
of our lives working on Wall Street, absorbing its ethic and mores. We're
concerned that nothing has really been fixed. We're doubly concerned that
people appear to feel the worst of the storm is over -- and in this, they are
aided and abetted by a hugely popular and charismatic president and by the
fact that the Dow has increased by 35 percent or so since Mr. Obama started
to lay out his economic plans in March. But wishing for improvement and managing
by the Dow's swings are a fool's game. [...]
Why Are We Propping Up the Institutions That Got Us Into
This?
Six months ago, nobody believed that
our banking system was well designed, functioning smoothly or properly
regulated -- so why then are we so desperately anxious to restore that
model as the status quo? Nearly
every new program emanating these days from the Treasury Department -- the
Term Asset-Backed Securities Loan Facility, the Public Private Investment
Program, the "stress tests" of major banks -- appears to have been designed
to either paper over or to prop up a system that has clearly failed.
Instead
of hauling out the new drywall to cover up the existing studs, let's
seriously consider ripping down the entire structure, dynamiting the foundation and
building a new system that rewards taking prudent risks, allocates capital
where it is needed, allows all investors to get accurate and timely financial
information and increases value to shareholders and creditors.
We Need to Fundamentally Rethink How We've Been Living
Instead of promising the imminent return of good times, why
isn't Mr. Obama talking more about the importance of living within our means
and not spending money we don't have on things we don't need? We used to be
a frugal nation. The president should be talking about kicking our addictions
to easy credit, to quick fixes and to a culture of more is better [...]
Gas-guzzling S.U.V.'s, cigarette boats, no-income mortgages
and private jets should be relegated to the junk heaps of history, or better
yet, put in a museum dedicated to never forgetting the greed and avarice that
led us so far astray.
"Feelgood" Medicine is the Last Thing We Need Right Now
Why is the morphine drip still in the veins of the
financial system? These trillions in profligate federal
spending are intended to make us feel better again even though feeling pain,
and dealing with it responsibly, would be healthier in the long run. It is time to stop rescuing
the banks that got us into this mess. If that means more bank failures on
a grander scale or the dismemberment of Citigroup, so be it. Depositors will
be protected -- up to $250,000 per account -- but shareholders, creditors and,
sadly, many employees will, for the long-term health of the system, need to
feel the market's wrath.
Beware Government Second-Guessing the Markets And (Inevitably)
Playing Political Favorites
Is there to be any limit on bailouts? We have now
thrown money at the big banks, any number of regional ones, insurance companies,
General Motors, Chrysler and state and local governments. Will we soon be
bailing out Dartmouth, which just lost its AAA bond rating? Is there no room
left for what the Austrian economist Joseph Schumpeter termed "creative destruction"?
And what is the plan to get the American people out of all these equity stakes
we now own and don't want?
Furthermore, for government leaders to
decide who shall live and who shall die in an economic sense opens them
up to legitimate charges of crony capitalism and favoritism. We will benefit in the long run
from a return to market discipline. [...]
Time for Some Creative Destruction
We are in one of those "generational revolutions" that Jefferson
said were as important as anything else to the proper functioning of our democracy.
We can no longer pretend that our collective behavior as a nation for the past
25 years has been worthy of us as a people. Many of us hoped that Barack Obama's
election would redress the dire decline in our collective ethic. We are 139
days into his presidency, and while there is still plenty of hope that Mr.
Obama will fulfill his mandate, his record on searching out the causes of the
financial crisis has not been reassuring. He must do what is necessary to restore
the American people's -- and the world's -- faith in American capitalism and
in our nation. But time
is wasting.
By now you must be wondering what on earth I think this has
to do with Law Firm Land, much less White & Case.
The relevance is this: I'm asking you to think that BigLaw is like the financial system, and it's not fixed yet.
We had 20+ years of living off the fat of the land, with 5-10%/year rate increases, 5-15%/year revenue growth, and 5-15%/year growth in profit, until we began to think of them as God-given rights. A generation of us has experienced nothing else.
I'm here to suggest that those days were abnormal. It's time to meet the new normal.
But, as Melville's Bartleby the Scrivener famously said, "we'd prefer not to."
We're at risk of wasting the opportunity this crisis presents, of being 139 or 180 or 270 days into "The Great Reset," as I have come to call it, and deciding that the green shoots represent true spring, spring just like any other spring of the past 20 years, and not a January thaw with hard freezes yet to come. No need to fundamentally worry; it will be back to business as usual if we just can sit tight long enough.
The real intersection of the White & Case article and the still-on-the-brink article is this: We must have the intellectual and emotional courage to first imagine, and then to begin to build, business models that will carry forward our professional traditions and the highest standards of impeccable client service into the 21st Century, knowing that the strategic business mantra of growth for growth's sake is no longer the answer.
This will take from us no less courage and imagination than it will take to re-imagine and reconceive our financial system, and it will require that many of the same components of what was settled wisdom be re-examined root and branch:
- Compensation and incentives;
- Training and professional development;
- Billing methodologies;
- And not least, the purposes and structure of our firms.
Hugh Verrier is right to insist that there will remain a vital role for global law firms. But there will also, I intuit, be a vital role for boutiques, for regional firms, for industry-specific firms, for commodity-work highly efficient firms, and for prestigious high-end bespoke firms, and for new varieties undreamed of by us today. Some firms (White & Case?--perhaps, but don't look to The New York Times for guidance) will occupy a spot in that future firmament, and some will not.
The only prediction I can make with utter confidence about that future is that if you think all is now right with the world and it's time to relax again, it bodes ill for your firm's future stature. Even though, like Obama on the economy, I really am the optimist at heart.
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