Recently in Cultural Considerations Category

Fourteen years ago, Greenberg Traurig wasn't in the AmLaw 100, and today it's  #10. Their CEO during this entire period--until he stepped down lastweek--was Cesar Alvarez, now age 62. When he became CEO of the firm, it was a "small but prestigious Miami law firm known for corporate and real estate," according to this interview with the Miami Herald, and now is 1,750 lawyers in 30 offices with annual revenue of $1.2-billion.

But you know this. That's not why I'm writing.

When someone with Cesar's perspective and accomplishments steps down, it's worth listening. (Naysayers in the audience--and I know you're out there, admit it!--who think that the Greenberg Traurig model is intrinsically flawed, or that it's a flash in the pan, or that it's unsustainable, or that it's [insert miscellaneous pejorative here], just stay with me. We all know GT is a "polarizing" firm, in that people tend to love it or hate it. That's a topic for another day.)

So let's listen for a moment.

He said two things that struck me:

• "Without our blind compensation system [only Cesar knows what each partner earns], we never would have been able to build this firm;" and
  
  
• "Q: What do you know now that you wish you knew years ago?
  
  "A: How important the culture of a firm is. Sometimes people tell you how critical culture is. When I started, I said culture is a nice thing, but unless you drive success, culture won't mean anything. In fact, I know now that it is the opposite. You need to drive the culture, and culture will drive success."

How could a "blind" compensation system ever work? Isn't more disclosure, more "transparency," today's Holy Grail? Well, not so fast.  As Warren Buffett has famously said:

Our experience is that envy, rather than greed, is the key driver. If you give someone a $2 million bonus but their co-worker got $2.1 million, they're miserable. Of the seven deadly sins, envy is the most useless - it makes you miserable and you lose a lot of sleep.

I couldn't agree more (with Warren, if I'm not yet entirely convinced by Cesar). Few things are more corrosive than the envy of small differences, and we all know that the most visceral rivalries are local.

Does that mean the "blind," cone of silence, system is necessarily right for your firm? Not at all. The answer to that depends on the historic path your firm has taken. For sure, if it's always had an open and "transparent" system, now, and perhaps not ever, is the time to change. But if there's needless neck-biting and back-stabbing thanks to minimal differences in compensation, you might start thinking about migrating in that direction.

But enough on that.

The truly fascinating comment of Cesar's was his about culture, and its primacy over financial performance.

In this environment, people are who are considering lateral moves are not considering them because of, or certainly not only because of, financial performance, but almost exclusively because of culture--the compelling lack thereof.

But "culture" is too often confused with such bland bromides as "collegiality," "support," and "team spirit."

Evidently, that's not what culture means to Cesar, although he doesn't explicitly make the connection. Culture, to Cesar, is a culture of high performance.

First, as to internal expectations (and forgive the extended quote, but it's required to deliver the context and import) (emphasis supplied):

Q: If a young associate comes to talk to you about work life balance, what do you say to him?

A: When I was an associate I wanted to do as many deals as I could as a corporate securities lawyer. I worked a lot of hours: Monday though Sunday. Ultimately you have to sell two things -- for the client to trust you as human being and as a lawyer. If you haven't been at these deals you won't be able to sell yourself to the client. My point to young associates is you have to invest in yourself. What you get paid in the first few years is insignificant.

Today associates want the outside life. You have to remember they have to choose to lead the life of a lawyer, not be here to have the lifestyle of a lawyer. If they want lifestyle without being a real lawyer it will not work long term. It's a business that requires a lot of experience.

Q: Does it require major personal sacrifice to be good lawyer today?

A: Absolutely. Nothing has changed from that perspective. This is difficult profession, period. It requires a lot of time and effort. There are wonderful rewards, but you cannot substitute time and effort, not when someone else is putting in the time and effort.

Many associates still don't believe it. Now they are feeling the recession, the uncertainty. They have never felt the uncertainty. They have always been in a system that rewarded them again and again even when their hours were going down.

Q: Have you seen a change in attitude?

A: Definitely. They realize they are lucky to have a job and are more focused on what they need to do to have their career.

And second, in terms of client expectations:

Q: Do you think the legal profession as a whole will address client expectations brought about because of technology?

A: I think you have to be connected to the client all the time. We're in the business of solving problems. Problems aren't just legal issues. The great lawyers know how to handle problems. You want to be an advisor, not just a technical lawyer. You have to spend time understanding the business of client. You have to invest time and stay connected.

Finally, he has some shockingly clear-eyed observations, firmly grounded in economics, on what's going to happen to the next few years of law graduates and young associates. Specifically, when asked what's going to happen with the "tremendous number of unemployed lawyers," he responds with a clarity worthy of Adam Smith:

The economy deals with supply and demand. The adjusting mechanism is price -- what they will be willing to be employed at and what we can charge a client for them. Once that comes into balance again, you will have a different issue. [...]

If I were a young lawyer and displaced from a large firm, I would be going into one of new areas and be at the ground floor. I'd be learning energy policy and how it works. A few years from now you will become very valuable to law firms. You could come back at a high level if you focus on areas that are new. Firms will always be buying expertise.

So:

• Consider the corrosive effects of envy.
• Economics matter, but a high-performance culture matters more.
• And this profession demands hard work: Always has, always will.

And one last consummately clear-eyed Cesar-ism (from a personal conversation, not this article): When asked about the PPP arms' race, he cogently observed: "The only thing that matters is profits per me."

Thanks, Cesar.

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).

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

For the second installment in our series on Law Firm Business Models, we turn to boutiques.

Boutiques, as a player on the landscape of industrial structure, are a familiar character. Boutiques, in fact, exist in countless industries, and seem capable of thriving in a variety of competitive environments. Consider:

• In retail, perhaps the most familiar environment for boutiques and whence the word "boutique" itself was historically derived, we have the familiar local clothing, shoe, or stationery store co-existing alongside department stores, Zappos.com, Staples, and Office Depot.
• In jewelry, it's Zales and all the other big boxes vs. Cartier, Tiffany.
• In beer, it's Budweiser and Miller vs. Sam Adams and all the other micro-breweries.
• The same for wine and hard liquor: The Gallo Empire and the Diageo's of the world vs. mailing-list-only Napa cabernets and single malt Scotches.
• The same for apparel (Gap, Lands End, J. Crew, Brooks Brothers--you name it, vs. designers--you name it)
• Even in autos, we have "boutiques" in the incarnation of Ferrari, Lamborghini, Tesla, and Maybach, among others.

The point is simply that boutiques can coexist with supposedly dominant players in many industries for a long long time, with no apparent mortal threat to their existence or profitability.

So is the same true for our industry?

I believe it is.

What, then, exactly, is a "boutique" in our industry?

As I define it, it's a firm that specializes in a single practice area virtually to the exclusion of all else, and that also has only one office (maybe a headquarters and an inconsequential branch or two).

The key characteristic is the focus on a single practice area, but the concentration in one office also part of the definitional package. Littler Mendelsohn focuses on employment law (a practice area), but because it's nationwide I wouldn't classify it as a boutique.

And just to clarify things: Wachtell, Cravath, Slaughters are all firms that have only one office that counts, but that doesn't make them boutiques. (So, for example, do the hundreds of thousands of solo and small law firms across the country: Same point.)

So what are examples of what I have in mind? Just to name a few, Bartlit Beck, Boies Schiller, Quinn Emanuel.

All of those are litigation boutiques, and I named them not by accident. That seems to be the dominant form of boutique, and IP boutiques, which used to be a classic category of boutique, have seen the sun set on them. Why did the IP boutiques fade? Because, I suspect--this is only my theory--IP used to be a valuable expertise, and it migrated in the past decade or so to a commodity. Erego firms could not sustain the high price margins they needed to continue on that one leg of the stool. Game over.

(Before I receive an avalanche of email from proud IP practitioners, let me hasten to clarify that there's IP work and then there's IP work.  Run of the mill patent and trademark applications are the commodity side of things, but certainly high-stakes litigation against patent trolls and other wannabe bloodsuckers is anything but a commodity.  Perhaps the real flaw in the IP-boutique business model's concentration was that clients failed to see the need to procure their high-stakes work from the same firm that did their routine filings.)

Litigators are facing no such risks.

At the top end of the litigation market--white colllar defense, securities and corporate governance investigations, other major regulatory inquiries (often involving "piling on" with multiple state and federal proceedings moving forward on parallel or at least tangentially approximate paths), money is no object. As far as the eye can see, it will always be thus.

So is there a fundamental threat to the boutique model?

If you're a non-litigation boutique, there could always be.

• Some practice areas (cf. IP) may move downstream.
• By hypothesis, if you're a practice-area boutique you've concentrated all your chips on one expertise. If demand for that expertise is cyclical, be prepared for the downturns. As in, really prepared. See:  Thacher Proffitt.  Be ready to cut back to lifeboat size in very short order. That's actually easier than when the curve bends up again and all of a sudden you need to recruit people who are suddenly, fashionably, in demand. Live by the sword,....
• For all boutiques, what happens when the charistmatic founder (show me a boutique that doesn't have one) retires? That's usually the inflection point at which a boutique survives as an institution or reveals itself as the court attendants at Versailles to the Sun King.

Thomas Hobbes famously described life in "the state of nature" (that is to say, without government) as "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short," the only remedy for which was to accede to a social contract and establish a civil society.

Boutiques may all face a similar transition point upon the fading of the founder, although hopefully it's not from a plane that is "solitary, poor, nasty, and brutish"--but it probably is "short."

The challenge for boutiques, then, may not be becoming one; it may be remaining one.

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.

One of the more thoughtful and, frankly, creative responses to my two recent columns on lateral partners asked a simple question:  What should a firm recruiting a potential lateral be obligated to tell the putative future partner?

This is the kind of question that gets the juices of us securities lawyers flowing.  (No, I don't practice actively anymore, but I would like to think I remain a student of securities law in general and its perpetual evolution.)

The first reaction I had was that we already have a template for what ought to be disclosed, and how:  The Private Placement Memorandum.

A PPM, for the record, is a sort of species of prospectus typically used in conjunction with a "non-public offering" under §4(2) of the '33 Act and/or Reg. D, which was promulgated in 1982 as a non-exclusive "safe harbor" describing a roadmap for complying with §4(2).  Basically, Reg. D introduces the concept of an "accredited investor," which is defined as institutional investors, insiders of the issuer, rich folks (with a net worth of >$1-million or net income >$200,000 for a few years), and, more or less, combinations of the preceding.

Of course, as with all matters securities-law related, the antifraud provisions always and everywhere apply.

So what's the analogy to a lateral partner?

Roughly speaking, I see it this way:  A prospective lateral is pretty much by hypothesis a sophisticated investor when it comes to evaluating a commitment to a new law firm, at least if he/she has been paying any attention to the business operations of their current law firm.  So consider them analogous to an "accredited" (Reg. D sense) investor.

The interesting question is then what this hypothetical PPM ought to disclose.  Here's what the template of a prototypical PPM's table of contents, adapted to Law Land, might look like:

• Summary of the Offering
• Investor [Lateral Partner] Suitability
• Risk Factors
  • Conflicts of Interest
  • Management of the Firm
  • Legal Proceedings
• Purpose of the Offering [Becoming a Partner]
• Capital Structure; Dilution
• Financial Statements
  • Financial Model, Projections
  • Income Statement
  • Balance Sheet
  • Statement of Cash Flows
• Business Plan
• Competition
• Client Base
• Growth Strategies
• Practice Areas
• Geographic Footprint
• Industry Focus
• Client Conflicts, Current and Projected
• Recruitment and Retention Strategies
• Fees and Billing Methodologies
• Partner Capital Obligations
  • Amounts:  When Due
  • Uses of Partner Capital
  • Conditions for Return of Partner Capital
  • Risk Factors
• Appendices
  • Partnership Agreement
  • Compensation Model (to the extent reduced to writing)

Now, your reaction is probably either that this is fascinating or that it's preposterous.  I doubt many of you fall inbetween..

If that's the case, join the club.

My reaction is precisely the same.

Yet we are, among other primary and salient virtues, a profession dedicated to disclosure, transparency, and precision.  And of course you know that to we securities lawyers, Disclosure Is God.

How many lateral partner acquisitions fail because of mis-communication, unarticulated expectations, "surprising" capital demands, unforeseen conflicts, unexpressed cultural assumptions?  Wouldn't it be marginally logical to try to lay out some of those expectations beforehand, in a PPM?.

Which leads me to this observation:  If you think the notion of a PPM for potential laterals is preposterous, I strongly doubt that yours is a rational objection: I suspect that instead it's a cultural, "not done here" objection.  That doesn't make your objection remotely less substantive; but I submit that it puts the burden of proof on you to explain why your firm should not make those parameters I summarily laid about above somewhat clear to prospective laterals.  Labeling an objection "non-rational" is by no means tantamount to labeling it vacuous or empty; but it at least requires the proponent of the non-rational objection to explain its substance and its historic or cultural context.

Then again, there's a very realistic objection to developing a PPM for your firm.  It's hard work.

Not only hard work, but consensus work.  Can't you just imagine being in on the conversations defining the terms in the sections of the PPM dealing with "Competition," "Client Base," and "Growth Strategies?"  You can hear the gears clashing from here.

So is the real objection to the concept of a PPM not that it's untoward, that it's unprofessional, that it's "not done," but that in reality it's un-do-able, because the firm could never achieve consensus on what should go into it and how to describe the firm, its prospects, its competition, and its risk factors?  That, in other words, the strategic business path ahead for your firm is in some profound sense ineffable?

Try telling that to your next startup client.

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:

*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.

Regular readers know that among the many demigods in my polytheistic pantheon is the subaltern who stands guard to keep the faculties of Critical Thinking from being waylaid by cant or derailed by sensationalism.

This brings us to our two seemingly far afield and disconnected-from-each-other texts for today:

• Don't Blame Flu Shots for All Ills, and
• Melanoma on the Rise, or is it Just Diagnoses?

The flu shot piece (NYT, yesterday) reports that

As soon as swine flu vaccinations start next month, some people getting them will drop dead of heart attacks or strokes, some children will have seizures and some pregnant women will miscarry. [...]

Every year, there are 1.1 million heart attacks in the United States, 795,000 strokes and 876,000 miscarriages, and 200,000 Americans have their first seizure. Inevitably, officials say, some of these will happen within hours or days of a flu shot. [...]

"There are about 2,400 miscarriages a day in the U.S.," said Dr. Jay C. Butler, chief of the swine flu vaccine task force at the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. "You'll see things that would have happened anyway. But the vaccine doesn't cause miscarriages. It also doesn't cause auto accidents, but they happen."

To counter what the Centers for Disease Control and other federal agencies fear may be an all-but-inevitable surge in hysteria and alarmism about "side effects" of the vaccine, they have set up a war room, as well as a constantly updated Facebook page and Twitter feed. We should all, at the very least, wish them luck.

Otherwise we may find ourselves subject to the satanic twin of my Critical Thinking subaltern, "regulation by anecdote." Think this doesn't happen?

As Exhibit A, I would give you Sarbanes Oxley, a stupendous reaction to a handful of amazing outlier events. While Enron and Worldcom may have "shocked the conscience" (the strenuous and increasingly convoluted machinations of their perpetrators certainly shocked my conscience at the time), they lay so far outside the norm of corporate behavior that to base the most far-reaching reforms of our securities laws in several generations upon them seemed akin to legislating "knife ownership control" statutes based on the conduct of Jack the Ripper.

The larger moral from the swine flu story?

Human beings--by and large to our enormous credit--excel at finding patterns, teasing out cause and effect, and deducing what will be the probable after from the current before. But we are also more likely to exaggerate the actual probability of "A causes B" the more dreadful B is. Conversely, the more benign B is, the less likely we are to imagine causation. The benefit or peril from B, of course, has precisely nothing to do with the likelihood A was involved.

En garde.

The melanoma piece reports:

In recent years there has been a sharp rise in reported cases of malignant melanoma, the deadliest form of skin cancer [a 48% increase in just 13 years]. But a British study has found evidence that the epidemic may be due at least in part to "diagnostic drift," a growing tendency to identify and treat benign lesions as malignant cancers. [...]

The British researchers [also] found something odd in the data: almost all of the increase was in diagnoses of the earliest stage of the disease, where it is difficult, and sometimes impossible, to tell a malignant lesion from a melanocytic nevus, a type of benign mole. There was no change in the combined incidence of the later stages of the disease, and mortality increased only slightly.

First of all, I really wish I could take credit for coining the phrase "diagnostic drift"--a marvelously pithy piece of shorthand for a complex phenomenon. Alas, 'tis not to be.

The real interest of the piece comes in how it exposes the thought processes of dermatologists and epidemiologists discussing whether the increase is real, or drift.

The first clue that it really is drift and not real comes from the observation that the increase is disproportionately resident in very early stage diagnoses:

Melanoma is commonly diagnosed at various stages of severity, and if its incidence were truly increasing, the authors write, there would be increases found in all stages of the illness, not just the earliest. "We think that in borderline cases dermatologists and pathologists are erring on the side of caution," said the lead author, Dr. Nick J. Levell.

Arguing that it's real and not drift is Dr. Darrell S. Rigel, a professor of dermatology at New York University, who says:

"Every study over the past 10 years has shown that the absolute number of melanomas is rising," [...] The death rate from melanoma has also been going up, Dr. Rigel said, but so has the survival rate. In other words, while more people are getting the disease and dying from it, early identification and treatment has simultaneously allowed more people to survive.

Dr. Levell, our "drift" proponent, rebuts:

But if this were so "there would have to have been a coincidence of a large increase of just Stage 1 melanoma which had been almost exactly matched in both time and magnitude by a large improvement in therapeutic effect." He finds this "improbable."

Another expert weighs in on the side of "real" as follows:

Dr. Julide Tok Celebi, an associate professor of dermatology at Columbia, strongly disagreed with the study's conclusions. The increase in melanoma is real, she said, and "the only logical explanation is environmental exposure." She added that these days people were being exposed to "significantly greater" amounts of ultraviolet radiation.

Oh, yeah?

Levell (drift) again:

"Squamous and basal cell carcinomas are no doubt caused by sunlight," he said, "and those increases are concentrated on the face and neck." But the diagnoses of melanoma in the registry were mostly on the back, trunk and limbs, areas not consistently exposed to the sun. This means that exposure to sunlight cannot explain the increased number of lesions reported as malignant.

Ladies & Gentlemen of the jury, what say you? Drift or real?

The point, of course, is not which view is right, the point is to watch Critical Thinking in action.

And yes, you should always try this at home.