Recently in Leadership 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.

If we were in Corporate Land, this would be the beginning of earnings reporting season, with the close of the customary calendar year-fiscal year for most of BigLaw.

It's too early to draw any statistically solid conclusions about what 2009 looked like overall, but sometimes a report raises so many more questions than it answers that it begs for a bit of comment, analysis, and "deconstruction," if you will.

That would surely appear to be the case with Sonnenschein's reporting.

Here's the headline, from The American Lawyer:

Profits per equity partner dropped 3 percent at Sonnenschein Nath & Rosenthal in 2009, according to figures reported by the firm late Thursday, and gross revenue was flat. PPP fell from $804,000 in 2008 to $780,000 last year. Gross slipped from $473 million in 2008 to $472.5 million, according to the firm.

So far, so innocuous. But if you read a bit more carefully, there's more to the story.

First of all, Sonnenschein added 100 lawyers from Thacher Proffitt effective January, 2009. To add 100 lawyers and be "very pleased" that gross revenue was flat must establish some new apogee or highwater mark in redefining "the new normal."

Second, the decline in RPL (using an apples-to-apples, same accounting method comparison, of which more momentarily) is -11%. This is can only be viewed as a quite negative indicator which suggests the firm, despite going through three rounds of personnel cuts in the past 18 months, may not yet be "right-sized" or certainly is not achieving pre-bust utilization rates.

Third, PPP dropped more than 12% in 2009 vis-a-vis 2008, and now we are told it dropped another 3%. But I understand that partners have been told that cash distributions to them are off 19%. This doesn't quite compute if PPP is actually down just 3%, unless something strange is going on with "cash."

Which brings us--fourth--to the weirdest and most inexplicable part of the Sonnenschein news (emphasis supplied):

The firm also restated its 2008 gross revenue numbers Thursday. Last year the firm reported $492 million in gross revenue in 2008, but yesterday Sonnenschein lowered that figure to $473 million. The firm attributed the discrepancy between the two figures to a change in accounting. Sonnenschein previously reported gross revenue on an accrual basis, but now reports it on a cash basis...

This is a firm founded in 1906, which has used Arthur Andersen and now McGladry Pullen as accountants. Why would this be the year they would change accounting methodology? I have no inside information as to why that might be the case, but it strikes me as oddly convenient that the change in stated 2008 gross revenue from $492-million to $473-million quite nicely enables them to say that revenue in 2009 was "flat" at $472.5-million.

Well, aren't revenues revenues? And isn't the cash basis more rigorous than the accrual basis? Yes, and yes.

First, I for one can't imagine advising a client to "restate" revenues, any more than I can imagine restating a budget once it's set. You can miss the budget or exceed the budget, but the budget is the budget. In my book, rewriting history just shouldn't be done, however tempting it might be to succumb to the desire.  States that do this are rightly accused of Kremlinology.

And second, as for whether cash recognition of revenues is more disciplined than accrual, the short answer is of course it is. You either have the check in hand by midnight December 31st or you don't. No squishiness or wiggle room to that. No woulda-coulda-shoulda.

But ponder for a moment the other side of the Income & Expense statement: Expenses. If you were recognizing expenses on an accrual basis (conservative accounting), but now you only recognize them on a cash basis (more aggressive accounting), voila, I can virtually guarantee you that reported profits will go up. (At least as a one-time shot, but that's a story for another day.)

Now, please understand: I have no brief against Sonnenschein in the least, and I wish the firm, its clients, its partners, associates, staff, and their many dependents all the best in these times of unprecedented difficulty.

Sometimes, however, you have to look behind the story. If there are innocent and plausible explanations for all of this, I welcome them and will publish any comments I receive as updates to this piece (assuming the writers' permission).

In the meantime, take what you read with a grain of salt. Or better yet, a nod to critical thinking.

The link to the American Lawyer article on Sonnenschein's reporting appears to be intermittently broken, so here's the original article. If I've offended "fair use," I apologize forthwith to the American Lawyer but the thing about the Web is that links should work.

The Am Law 100:
Sonnenschein Profits Drop 3 Percent

The American Lawyer

By Ross Todd

January 22, 2010

Profits per equity partner dropped 3 percent at Sonnenschein Nath & Rosenthal in 2009, according to figures reported by the firm late Thursday, and gross revenue was flat. PPP fell from $804,000 in 2008 to $780,000 last year. Gross slipped from $473 million in 2008 to $472.5 million, according to the firm.

"[The] bottom line for us is that we are very pleased with the performance in view of the substantial investment we made in January of 2009 to add 100 new lawyers from Thacher Proffitt," Sonnenschein chair Elliott Portnoy said via e-mail Thursday. Portnoy (pictured at right) was traveling and unavailable for a phone interview.

Last year marked the second straight year of lower profits at Sonnenschein; PPP dropped more than 12 percent to $804,000 in 2008. The firm also restated its 2008 gross revenue numbers Thursday. Last year the firm reported $492 million in gross revenue in 2008, but yesterday Sonnenschein lowered that figure to $473 million. The firm attributed the discrepancy between the two figures to a change in accounting. Sonnenschein previously reported gross revenue on an accrual basis, but now reports it on a cash basis to match the method it uses to report net distribution to partners. The change in accounting affects Sonnenschein's revenue per lawyer numbers. The firm reported Thursday a drop of 7 percent from $778,000 in 2008 to $722,000 in 2009. When using the numbers the firm reported last year, the drop in RPL is 11 percent from $808,000 to $722,000.

Part of the RPL drop can be attributed to Sonnenschein's boost in head count. The firm grew from 608 lawyers in 2008 to 654 in 2009. On January 1, 2009, Sonnenschein added 100 lawyers from New York's Thacher Proffitt & Wood, including 40 partners. The hires--the largest lateral group the firm has taken on--nearly doubled the size of Sonnenschein's New York office.

The Thacher Proffitt lawyers brought with them a $500,000 contract awarded in December 2008 by the U.S. Department of the Treasury to advise on its investments in the Federal Reserve's Term Asset-Backed Securities Loan Facility (TALF). In March, Sonnenschein was chosen along with Cadwalader Wickersham & Taft and Haynes and Boone to advise the Treasury Department on its role in last year's auto industry restructurings. The auto industry contract carried a ceiling value of $8.59 million.

Sonnenschein, like many firms last year, also employed a number of cost-cutting measures. The firm cut associate compensation in June and announced in December that it would roll out a new merit-based associate compensation structure in early 2010. In September the Am Law Daily's colleagues at The National Law Journal reported that the firm cut about 30 lawyers, including 10 income partners--the third series of personnel cuts at the firm in an 18-month period.

This report is part of The Am Law Daily's ongoing Web coverage of The Am Law 100's 2009 financials. Results are preliminary. Final rankings and full results for The Am Law 100 will be published in The American Lawyer's May 2010 issue and on AmericanLawyer.com. The Am Law Second Hundred will be published in the June issue.

Before it's too late to miss the brief window of opportunity for prognostications about the New Year, here's one more.

But first, let's back up a bit.

By almost anyone's lights, 2009 was dreadful for our beloved industry, even appalling. According to LawShucks, BigLaw laid off (read: fired) 12,196 people, of whom 4,633 were lawyers and 7,563 were staff. This, of course, ignores the reality that layoffs are surely under-reported.

Ugly enough, and the raw statistics don't remotely speak to the genuine, and too often borderline-tragic, realities of defenseless professionals finding themselves "redundant" (as the Brits either charmingly or bureaucratically term it), highly talented and expensively educated one and all. Worse, these people find themselves on the curb for reasons that either had nothing really to do with their performance or, if it was tagged to performance, for demerits that would probably not have had fatal repercussions a year or more ago.

For better or worse, that's not what I want to talk about here.

Adam Smith, Esq. is about the economics of law firms, and that's our topic.

Everyone, I believe, long ago wrote off 2009 in their own minds as far as financial rewards go.

• Associates are inured to salary freezes or even rollbacks.
• Staff expect the same.
• Everyone but everyone expects bonuses to be downsized compared to last year.
• Many non-equity partners, as far as I can tell, count themselves lucky to still be onboard.
• And of course, equity partners expect PPP to be flat to down anywhere from 5% to 25% or more. (You've heard the joke that "flat is the new up?" Chase Bank is rolling out a new campaign that "save is the new spend." Can you say "The End of History-- I don't think so."? This new mantra is foreign matter to the American DNA, and will be rejected by the host if it seriously attempts to implant itself in our expectations.)

Financial results for 2009 are, of course, just beginning to trickle out, and if past disappointing years are any guide--none of course remotely comparable to this--firms will not be rushing to punch the "send" button to announce their figures. Indeed, as is our wont, we will want the aircover of other firms announcing bad or worse numbers before we try to sidle our news into the media slipstream around 5:00 pm on a Friday before a holiday weekend.

But 2009 is not really on the agenda any more. We know about 2009 ad nauseum, we're done and we don't want, frankly, to hear much about it any more.

Which brings us to 2010.

I don't know about you, but I can take one bad year in stride. We all would prefer not to have to face a bad year, but as long as everyone in sight is more or less in the same boat, you can live with yourself, roll with the punch, and wax philosophical about the arc of a 40-year career.  Your spouse, family, friends, and professional colleagues will all understand.

Not so for 2010. People will want to know why 2010 will be different, and better. This is a potentially perilous topic.

A few fortunate firms will be reporting results that are on par or even better with 2008. But I predict the vast majority will be down on year-on-year comparisons, certainly in terms of reported PPP and even more certainly in terms of internally realized and distributed PPP. At too many firms, capital calls are up, distributions are delayed, and the future is unclear.

The most important question as we enter 2010 is very simple: "What now?" And "Why different and better?" This is the question that will be coming from your partners, associates, and staff as we grind out of the repercussions of late 2008 and 2009.

What's your answer?

The answer had best be persuasive, credible, and, perhaps most difficult, consistent with who your firm is and what has gone heretofore. You can't realistically turn the place around if that means making it something it never was, never ought to be, and isn't what your people signed up for.

In other words, the priority for senior management for 2010 is not just "making the numbers"--challenging as that will surely be--it's giving people a reason to believe.

Why will 2010 be better? How, exactly? How does this fit my image and vision of the firm? Not just how does it advance my career, but how is it something I can buy into, hearts and minds? "Trust us" as a response won't cut it.

And if you get this wrong?

I predict 2010, not 2009, will be the big year of shakeouts in the composition of the leading firms--and I mean that across the board, whether you define your peer group of competitive and therefore "leading" firms as the Global 50, the AmLaw 50, the AmLaw 200, or regional firms in your local market.

The dynamics are fairly simple: People wrote off 2009, but they're not prepared to write off 2010.  By "2010" I really mean the foreseeable future of their fortunes at your firm.  If this was the "Great Reset," then you should have re-booted, re-imagined, and re-invigorated your firm by about this time.  If you haven't, "2010" really means "as far as the eye can see."

In turn, people's  faith in how 2010 may turn out at your firm depends on their faith in the strategic vision of the firm. Is it credible? Ownable? Distinctive? Why, again, is 2010 going to be better than 2009?  

If you don't have a compelling answer to that, be prepared for bad news on the people front.  We often say it, but sometimes the obvious is worth repeating:  Within five or ten city blocks of your offices (all of them), there are probably two dozen buildings containing 50 or 60 elevator banks leading to the reception areas of major competitors.  How hard is it, really, for someone to choose another elevator bank?

At the outset, I promised you a prediction for 2010. At the risk of your revisiting this in January 2011 and finding what follows utterly wrong (Adam Smith, Esq., on principle, never deletes anything from our archives), it's simple:

• We will see more firms fail;
• And more "surprising" firms fail;
• More firms merge;
• And more"surprising" mergers

in 2010 than we have in a long long time.  Economics may be the proximate cause, but a failure of vision and belief will be the core cause.

Happy New Year.

As we embark on a brave new year, I thought it condign treatment of 2009 and what lies beyond to spend a few moments on the broader view, and, more specifically, what industries may and may not survive the post-Internet, and more broadly the post-digitalization of life, future.

One could write books about this--several folks already have--so I will perforce be very abbreviated in my treatment of this, but I would hope a theme emerges. And of course this comes with the customary and obligatory caveat that it's all my surmise at this moment in time, lacking the foresight to imagine what the creative genius of our entrepreneurial classes will bring forth.

Won't survive

• Newspapers
• General interest magazines lacking extraordinary quality (yes, this excepts The New Yorker, The Atlantic, and a handful of others)
• Landline phones
• Fax machines
• Hard copies of all forms of entertainment--music, TV, movies (everything will be rented or streamed, although purists may hang onto printed books between covers for the incredible and still unsurpassed utility of their form factor, not to mention the symbolism of bookshelves [I probably count myself a purist])
• The following, as we know them today:
  • Realtors
  • Stock brokers
• Network TV
• Virtually any single-purpose piece of hardware:  GPS devices, calculators, and, I predict, Kindles and e-book readers.  It's simply way too cheap and appealing to add functions once one has the basic slab with a screen, a processor, and some memory.

I doubt any of these is terribly surprising.

Will survive, but in drastically changed form

• Car dealers
• Many point-of-sale services
  • We shall see the drastic integration of online and store sales
  • Ticket takers at cultural and sports events have seen their ranks cut by 90% as hand-held bar code scanners replace ripping and returning; while we're at it, when was the last time you actually bought a ticket--any ticket--from a human being at a box office?
  • Airline kiosks have supplanted counter attendants
• Banking and financial services
  • Including insurance and mortgage brokering.

I also think these are also relatively commonplace observations.

Will be oblivious

• Healthcare (digitalization of patient records will come, eventually, to be sure, but it won't fundamentally transform, much less threaten, the industry or anyone employed in it)
• Travel (not travel agents--the travel industry itself)
• Construction (hard to outsource or do "virtually")
• Utilities (same)
• Agriculture and mining (same)
• Oil and natural gas (same)
• Manufacturing of durable goods, including most importantly cars, trucks, and industrial equipment: Sometimes metal needs to be bent and people and goods need to move, and we don't yet have Star Trek teleportation in place
• Education (imagine making your Contracts 1st-year course a Webinar? I didn't think so)
• Essentially all of government:
  • Local (police, fire, traffic, zoning, water and sewer)
  • State (regulatory, welfare, Medicaid)
  • Federal (Defense, State, Treasury, etc.--run down the Cabinet list in historic chronological order)
• Personal care: Barbers, salons, manicurists, health clubs, personal trainers, spas
• Home and office maintenance: Cleaning services and maids, nannies, doormen, and all contractors and handymen--plumbers, electricians, carpenters, painters, etc.
• Sports
• And lastly, one of my favorites, the performing and visual arts.

What's most noteworthy about this last list to me is what an enormous slice of the economy it represents. And what a relatively trivial portion is represented by the first and even the second lists.

Which brings me to the point: The repercussions of the digitalization of the world may have been overblown.

I'm not a social psychologist and have less than zero desire to become one, so I won't attempt to hypothesize why so much ink has been spilled on the supposed topsy-turvy world we're plunging into, like it or not, but I would suggest you take another look at the people who work for industries in my first "won't survive" list, and I'll suggest what they have in common: They own the printing presses and buy those barrels of ink. (I buy gigabytes of server storage, but that's a separate matter.)

So what has this to do with Law Land?

I look at the lists presented above and ask what industries we are most like. Before I give you my thoughts, you might want to glance up and take another look.

I think we're some continually evolving combination of education, financial/medical adviser, and hands-on personal care.

How so?

Education, as a role for us, should I hope be obvious. We educate our clients, we are or at least want to be known as a "learned profession," and we have, actually, access to knowledge that the proverbial man on the street does not. We don't just rent this knowledge out to our clients, we should impart it so it becomes their own.

Financial/medical advisers are people to whom we entrust (one hopes) our every secret, hope, and fear. We should serve the same function. Too often, of course, we fall short, accepting superficial explanations from clients about what they want to achieve without delving deeper to truly understand their business objectives in the larger contextual scheme of things. We should be able to provide them with various roadmap's, decision trees, alternative ways of pursuing their objectives, with lesser and greater ratios of return and reward.

Hands-on personal care? Yes, because there is no substitute for being there. The more amazing technology and collaboration-at-a-distance becomes (what the Web, ultimately, is all about), the more important face to face personal meetings are. (This, incidentally, is why I'm long-term bullish on such global cities as New York, London, and Hong Kong.) The more people you know "virtually," the more you want to meet them in person.

Which should be something we do well.

Often, the value of hands-on care is underestimated when it comes to so-called commodity practices such as real estate transactions, employment law, and background-noise litigation. You underestimate the value of this at your risk.

Think that divorce or employment law are "commodity" practices that don't require sensitive and nuanced practitioners?  Try telling that to the wronged spouse who suddenly finds themself living in a trailer, or the 55-year-old assembly line worker laid off in Detroit. 

Clients still want to meet you, get to know you, feel you're in command and know your stuff; this can to this day only be done one on one.  No one in Bangalore can help.

Finally, a word on outsourcing: It's here to stay. Foreign or domestic, owned or rented by your firm, it is a wave (not the wave, but a wave) of the future. Get used to it. Baseline document review, legal research, perhaps even generic witness prep will be conducted by people who are not junior associates on your firm's payroll. This is simply reality. But is it a fundamental change in your business model? I hope your business model wasn't entirely premised on the role of junior associates.

Again, is the digitalization of everything an existential threat to us? I leave you to draw your own conclusions, but I think not.

Thoughts for 2010 and beyond.

Many have been the descriptors proposed for the period we've been living through since about the middle of 2007, but few strike me as more apt than "turbulence." Why?

• Turbulence implies unconscious, or at least unintended, forces at work causing the disruption;
• Turbulence is unforeseeable, both from a distance, and locally, while one is in the midst of it;
• Turbulence is unpredictable; it doesn't rise and fall in a convenient sine-wave pattern, it ebbs, flows, circles, eddies and creates water-spouts, becomes violent and quiescent.

And most importantly, it's almost impossible to "train for" turbulence. The best one can do is try to keep one's head while all around are losing theirs.

This brings me to Don Sull's recently published The Upside of Turbulence: Seizing Opportunity in an Uncertain World. Don is a professor of strategy at the London Busness School and--full disclosure--someone I count a friend. He also writes a regular column for The Financial Times.

Don begins by disabusing us of the notion that the current economic crisis is our first or our only encounter with turbulence. Instead, he posits that it's been on the rise for 20 or 30 years. By one measure (the likelihood that a firm will be knocked off its leadership position), turbulence increased three-fold. The frequency of currency or economic crises has increased four-fold.

What's driving this?

Primarily, the accelerating integration of the world. Technology now diffuses worldwide in utter disregard of "national" borders (what a quaint concept indeed, China's censoring of Google notably notwithstanding). According to Don, one-third of the world's population that was not heretofore part of the market economy has recently entered it.

How should leaders respond?

Let's start, perhaps, with how they should not--but how they typically do--respond. By digging in their heels.

Well, to be fair, we can be a bit more nuanced than that. Many organizations confronted with turbulence decide, perhaps not unreasonably on the surface, to dig down and do what they've always done best, only do it better.

So the world is changing a lot, you see the changes coming. You've got the data, McKinsey or somebody else helps you to get your arms around what's happening. And instead of changing what you're doing, you just step on the gas, spin the wheels harder, and hope to get out of the rut. Usually you end up digging yourself deeper.

This is what Don memorably calls "active inertia."

Another response is to try to focus especially hard on the telescope in order to predict the future, in the belief that if you just "squint hard enough" you'll be able to accurately anticipate the future.

Get real. (That's my advice.) Don is a bit more diplomatic:

"I'll be able to see through this foggy future. I'll be able to predict what's going to happen. I'll know what to do." That's just not going to happen. The record of people's predictions in business, or in any domain, is very, very poor. And as turbulence increases, the effectiveness of that approach decreases.

The final trap is trying to do what everyone else is doing. Now he's talking our language. As he succinctly puts it, if you're mimicking firms that are making the wrong responses, "it's unlikely that you're going to have a better outcome than they do." This observation of course is first cousin to Einstein's famous quip that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again while hoping for a different outcome.

What, then, is to be done?

Be agile. Easier said than done, I know (and I've counseled agility myself). "Agility" is simply the ability to identify, and then seize, opportunities more quickly than your peer set. I've analogized it to running a race, where winners are dependent on native running ability, to be sure (but you have that, right?), but even more so on situational awareness of your competitors, seeing opportunities (a flagging competitor, or the fact that you're 200 yards from the finish and feeling strong), and taking advantage. But "seizing" the opportunity is apt, because in moments it will be gone.

We measure business opportunities in months or conceivably years, not moments, but the principle is the same.

First, you can be "agile" within your own operations: This is Toyota, or the Six Sigma god-head in general. Get smarter about what you do best, and do it better still.

Second, you can change your own firm's portfolio mix: Pull back from geographies and practice areas that may have outlived their usefulness (if they ever had a usefulness--topic for another day), and invest the saved resources in what you think the growth areas will be. Be attuned, in short, to opportunity costs.

Third, be strategically agile. Downturns provide, among other things, the opportunity to buy assets (office leases, most importantly talent) at below what-market-was a year or two ago. Be disciplined, be purposeful, but consider investing. Seriously.

Why? Don writes:

Many complex interactive systems--such as weather patterns, seismic activity, and traffic--follow what mathematicians call an inverse power law: the frequency of an event is inversely related to its magnitude. In turbulent markets, an inverse power law implies that companies face a steady flow of small opportunities, periodic midsize ones, and the rare chance to create significant value. Examples of golden opportunities include major acquisitions, transformational mergers, the opening of booming markets such as China or India, launching a breakthrough product like the iPhone, or securing hard assets on favorable terms during an economic crisis.

Given the unpredictable nature and uneven distribution of golden opportunities, a combination of patience (to wait for the right time to strike) and boldness (acting when that time arises) is crucial.

All this, of course, guarantees precisely nothing.

For one thing, how do you communicate the firm's strategic objectives to the partners, associates, and staff who will actually be the ones carrying it out? Don't you run the risk of inundating them with messages if you're trying to turn, relatively speaking, on a dime?

Well, yes.

All the more reason to stay focussed and decide very carefully about your priorities. Communicate those you truly believe in, in your gut. No more than three a year. Better, fewer.

But do not, above all, miss this opportunity.

A downturn brings hard choices into stark relief, provides an external rationale to justify difficult decisions, and offers "air cover" to reverse previous decisions. In the current market, senior executives should consolidate their major initiatives into a single list and make the hard choices needed to select a handful that are truly critical. To ensure that everyone gets the message, they should communicate the priorities throughout the entire organization, along with a list of initiatives that are no longer key objectives, to ensure that people do not waste resources on unimportant matters.

One final thought: economic crises can provide an ideal opportunity to invigorate the cultural transformation that is often needed to cultivate operational agility.

Cultural transformation? Indeed: That's where the rubber meets the road.

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

Hasn't the last year and a half been a horrible nightmare? Aren't you sick and tired of our fallacious infatuation with the "free market"? Maybe we should bring back Glass-Steagall, reinforce Sarbanes-Oxley, create an uber-regulator for the financial services industry. Aren't we all well and thoroughly sick of deregulation and privatization? Most of all, hasn't capitalism shown us to a fare-thee-well that, left uncontrolled, it can all too easily run off the rails? What have we been thinking for the past couple of decades?

I mark this time because it was just over 30 years ago--May 4, 1979--that Margaret Thacher become Prime Minister of the UK, to be followed shortly thereafter as President of the US by Ronald Reagan, seen rightly in retrospect as cross-Atlantic twins as far as promoting the virtues of the free market and dragging down the curtain on the sad, sclerotic decade of the 1970's (stagflation, depressing cardigan sweaters, and "malaise," anyone?)

I'm reminded of this anniversary by Martin Wolf, writing in the Financial Times, who sums up what she did:

Mrs (now Lady) Thatcher entered office determined to reverse a national decline marked by high inflation, slow growth and trade union militancy. Her government emphasised monetary control, deregulation, particularly of the financial sector, flexible labour markets, and privatisation. The post-1997 Labour government did not overthrow these policies but built upon them. Labour increased public spending but not hugely: in 2007-08, expenditure was below where it had been under Mrs Thatcher until 1988-89. Labour also abandoned active fiscal policy, adopted inflation targeting, introduced central bank independence and welcomed the vigour of the financial sector.

Note the emphasis on "revers[ing] a national decline, ... monetary control, deregulation particularly of the financial sector, ... and privatisation."

We also can choose to celebrate the anniversary of another systemic earthquake, the 20th Anniversary (last month) of the fall of the Berlin Wall.

Why are you reading about these momentous--but exhaustively analyzed--events on Adam Smith, Esq.?

Simply this: To provide a moment's worth of perspective.

Since it has been 20 years since the Fall of the Wall, memory has clouded over what it represented: Very simply, the end of a 40-year experiment in which Germany, a First World Country by any measure, was divided in two economically, one region a market economy and the other centrally planned. Once the gap in living standards became so egregious, the experiment self-destructed.

John Kay, writing in the FT, reminds us of this, and reminds us, more importantly, of exactly in what the genius of the market economy consists. He cites three primary components, to which I would add a fourth:

• Prices act as signals for resource allocation.
• Markets promote innovation by adapting to change "through a chaotic process of experimention." And
• Markets diffuse political and economic power. "This is the most effective way to protect society from rent-seeking - a culture in which the principal route to wealth is not creating wealth, but attaching oneself to wealth created by others."

And the fourth, mine:

• Markets permit, enable, encourage, and all but insist upon individuals finding their own highest uses in society (the real meaning of the Invisible Hand, as I construe it). Few things contribute more highly to human happiness.

Scarred as we all are by the events of last September (2008, that is), we may be tempted to retreat to the faux security of command and control by the best and brightest. Don't go there; don't even be tempted to go there.

The market excels not just at creating and spreading new ideas, but at getting rid of failed ones. As John Kay puts it:

Disruptive innovations most often come to market through new entrants [and] from unpredicted sources. If you had been planning the future of the computer industry in the 1970s, would you have asked Bill Gates and Paul Allen? If you had been planning the future of retailing in the 1990s would you have asked Jeff Bezos? Of course not: members of the politburo, cabinet or large company board would have consulted grey men in suits like themselves.

Markets are not a well-oiled machine: they are a constantly changing, adaptive biological system. Pluralism is their motive force, their essence chaotic, their development inherently uncertain. If we could predict the evolution of markets, we would not need markets in the first place.

To tie this to reality, this week the always-worthwhile Economic Principals, concidentally, has a tour de force recap of the nascent venture capital industry, starting in Boston immediately after World War II, which begins:

"It is hard to describe how quickly attitudes changed in Great Britain in the wake of the Thacher Revolution. It was as if a oppressive shroud had been removed."

After noting that Deng Xiaoping did more or less the same for China, only perhaps on a greater scale, he hits his stride:

Of course New England businessmen were scrambling up "the value chain" for three centuries before the term would be invented. None knew where it led. But from cod to candy, from slaves and opium to ice and stone, from railroads and telephones to electricity and radio, merchant traders and manufacturers in Boston understood that the essence of competitive advantage was that it didn't last.

Now we're getting to the heart of how markets work.

Out of the shockingly tiny world of Boston-centric venture capitalists came, in the space of a short career:

• American Research and Development Corp., which merely sired Digital Equipment Corp.;
• Greylock Partners;
• TA Associates;
• Arthur Rock (West Coast, but who went to school on the Boston gang, with Fairchild Semiconductor and Intel to his credit);
• And just a few other Boston-funded startups including FedEx, Cablevision, Wang, and Biogen.

What about Silicon Valley?

Following is more commentary from the same Economic Principals piece upon the recently published A Vision for Venture Capital: Realizing the Promise of Global Venture Capital and Private Equity, by Peter Brooke:

But Brooke's book is equally interesting, about, for instance, about the difference between Boston and California. East Coast lenders didn't know much about technology, at least in the early days; they were generalists, not technologists. They took a portfolio approach, emphasizing diversification and limited appetite for risk, preferred companies that had a revenue base and were moving towards profitability.

The West Coast guys were not averse to supplying seed capital and early stage financing, all part of the pioneer spirit. "They were good at what they did, and gained an edge that they have never relinquished." That said, Brooke continues, technological savvy will take an investor only so far. It's still essential to know how to identify market opportunities, size up entrepreneurs and develop relationships "in which information and ideas flow freely."

These skills are not easy to acquire, he says, but those who possess them can add substantial value, "even without knowing everything there is to know about a particular product or technology." Harvard and MIT: it was ever thus.

The whole second part of Brooke's book is an extended meditation on changing styles of venture finance, meaning mostly startups, usually high tech firms, and private equity, meaning restructuring large public companies through buyouts. The same skills are required at either end of the spectrum, he says, but emphases differ.

On the manner in which today's financiers have insulated themselves from risk at the expense of their investors, he quotes [Tony] Perkins [co-founder of the legendary Kleiner Perkins] approvingly: "Today I stand in awe of the way the managing partners of some of the huge buyout funds reward themselves; fees for raising the fund, fees for managing the fund, fees for doing the deals within the fund, and profit participation for individual investment, whether or not the overall profits are achieved."

Why do I focus on what may now seem like old news? I mean, Fairchild Semiconductor and Wang, for heaven's sake?

Again, perspective: These firms were enormous drivers of economic growth in their day, and even though both ultimately failed (news flash--most firms do), the way we work today and our overall economy would be fundamentally poorer without them and their kind.

What, then, has this to do with Thacher and Reagan and the free market?

Simply this: Let us not lose faith.

All things considered, I believe that free market capitalism has done more to promote the quality of life of more human beings than any non-theological belief system in the history of mankind.

And even after all the Sturm und Drang we've been through since September, 2008, here's a telling graph comparing the growth, from the start of 1991 through the third quarter of 2009, of the US and other major world economies:

So if you think the Thacher/Reagan era of deregulation and its aftermath was a misguided detour, think again.  To recap:

• US up 63%
• Canada 60%
• UK 48%
• France 35%
• Germany 22%
• Italy 19%
• Japan 16%

Finally, if you think the Asian tigers are overtaking the US, here, courtesy of David Brooks in today's NYT, is an incontrovertible rebuttal: In 1975, US GDP amounted to 26.3% of world G.D.P. The US share today? 26.7%.

The genius of the free market, present and potent since before (yes, even before) Adam Smith, is not to be gainsaid.

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.

Here the first in what I plan will be a series on Law Firm Business Models.

Today's topic is Regional Firms, and the focus of essentially every one of the columns in this planned series will be a discussion of whether the business model under examination is viable in the long run:

• What are its strengths and weaknesses?
• Are there characteristics or benefits it had to offer in the past that look to be less compelling, available, or plausible in the future?
• Conversely, are there reasons to believe clients will find the particular business model more to their liking in the future?
• What, if anything, is its particular appeal for lawyers?  (Remember Econ 101:  For law firms, clients are the demand and lawyers are the supply.)
• Does it have structural strengths or weaknesses vis-a-vis other law firm business models and which (strengths or weaknesses) seems more likely to grow in future?

Those are just suggestive questions, of course, and I imagine the particular discussion of any particular business model focus more on the traits of that specific model than how it fits into a Master Paradigm.  (I'm not big on Master Paradigms, in case you're wondering, and no, the initial caps were not to dress things up but to signal skepticism.)

So, whither regional firms?

Readers with very long memories might recall that fully three years ago I surmised that the merger of Kirkpatrick & Lockhart Nicholson Graham with Preston Gates & Ellis might portend something about the future of regional powerhouse firms. Specifically, The New York Times asked me what I thought or rather why I thought it might have happened, and proceeded to quote me as saying:

"Firms like Preston Gates that look to be comfortable as regional powerhouses may not in fact think that that's a very secure future, and they may want to ally with someone else and gain a bigger footprint."

I thought it might be true then and if anything has changed over the past three years it's only that I believe it more strongly today.

Why?

Fundamentally, we're no longer a regional country.

Much more meaning used to attach to "New England," "Dixie," the "Pacific Northwest," the "Rockies," and so forth. Now we're not so much a nation of scrapple in Pennsylvania, biscuits and grits in the South, baked beans in New England, guacamole in California, and bagels and lox in New York, as we are a nation of McDonald's and Starbucks and Denny's at one end and the Thomas Kellers, Bobby Flays, Wolfgang Pucks, and Gordon Ramsays at the other, all with their continent-spanning empires.

Even Times Square, for lord's sake, has become Gap-, Disney-, Toys-R-Us-, and Bubba Gump Shrimp-ified. It has turned into New York's great tourist-occupied outdoor mall mecca, with nary a local business left in sight.

Of course the well-chronicled, perhaps exaggerated, and surely overly romanticized assault of Big National Business on Small Local Merchants has been going on, as noted, for decades. 

As Exhibit A, I give you the department store industry, where Federated Department Stores, founded in 1929 in Columbus, Ohio, has been a consolidator extraordinaire.  Consider that it originally was a holding company for Abraham & Strauss, F&R Lazarus, Macy's, and William Filene's Sons of Boston, joined one year later by Bloomingdale Brothers of New York.

Here's a perhaps-incomplete list of the stores Federated has since acquired, merged with, or otherwise rolled up, all of which (with the sole outlier exception of Bloomingdale's) are now doing business under the unitary "Macy's" brand name:

• John Shillito of Cincinnati
• Rike Kumler of Dayton
• Burdines of Miami
• Rich's of Atlanta
• Foley's of Houston
• Sanger Brothers and A. Harris of Dallas
• Boston Store of Milwaukee
• MainStreet of Chicago
• Bullocks of LA
• I. Magnin of San Francisco
• Richway of Ohio;
• Twin Fair and Gold Circle (of various locales, merged)
• Lord & Taylor (subsequently divested as an independent entity)
• Famous-Barr of St. Louis
• Hecht's
• The Jones Store
• Jordan Marsh
• L S Ayres
• Meier & Frank
• Robinson May
• Strawbride's
• Kaufmann's of Pittsburgh
• And perhaps most famously and controversially of all, Marshall Field's of Chicago.

In a word, so long, regionalism.

So it has been with industry. If the South was textiles, Detroit cars, the Great Plains agriculture, and so on, now any company of scale that has survived has gone national and most international. You can say that this has been a trend since, say, World War II, and I would hasten to agree, but the internet has vastly accelerated it during the past decade.

Physical location is increasingly irrelevant. "Headquarters" has become almost a metaphysical term, and many law firms themselves (Jones Day, K&L/Gates, Latham) would tell you they have no such thing. Sourcing (shall we drop the term "outsourcing" once and for all?) has gone global, as have clients. Talent, capital, and most importantly of all for us, ideas, know few borders and no timezones.

What, then, is the precise marketplace niche of a regional firm?

If you suggest that it's knowledge of local:

• business conditions;
• law schools;
• recruiting environments and lateral candidate prospects; and
• cultural, philanthropic, pro bono, and other "soft" aspects of the local socioeconomic infrastructure;

then I would suggest to you that role is equally well served--perhaps better served--by the office managing partner of a national or international firm.

What are the remaining advantages of a regional firm?

Without (as I posit), a matching client base or an advantage in ability to track local conditions, I would turn the question around: Please (and I mean this) do tell me what you think the remaining advantages of a regional firm are?

We're all ears.

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.