EXCERPT from First, Let’s Kill the Lawyer Jokes:
Hey lawyers! Is everybody happy? You may be one of the fortunate ones.
I Googled “unhappy lawyers” and my search triggered 17,200,000 results, including “I hate being a lawyer,” “Why lawyers are unhappy,” and “7 reasons why lawyers are unhappy.” One comment even read, “Practice of law is the opposite of sex. Even when it’s good, it’s lousy.” No comments.
What are some causes of lawyer melancholy?
Technology? When I got called to the Bar in the mid-1970s there was no Google. No computers.
Our work seemed less rushed. We would get a nasty letter in the mail from some colleague who in his previous life was no doubt a cross between a pit bull and Captain Bligh. We would mull over it and leisurely dictate a reply—after taking his name in vain of course. We would then read the draft letter, having cooled off by now, and mail out a more civil and effective response, deleting where said colleague can go.
And when we left the office, there were no emails or texts following our departure. My being a technophobe had its advantages. I was even suspicious of the stickie note.
And naturally, with the expectation of instant response to electronic communications lawyers work more. The long hours are another major cause of dissatisfaction. This problem is especially prevalent in Biglaw firms, where associates push themselves hard, hoping to become partners. But once there are they happy? One Biglaw lawyer did not think so, saying, “Being a partner means I have a bigger share of the pie. And where does this leave me? With more pie.”
Another issue for lawyer dissatisfaction is a common stigma, namely that lawyers are shysters, long winded, and greedy ambulance chasers. Even when the public says something positive about our profession, the inference can sound negative. For example, there is a bar/restaurant in my community called “The Honest Lawyer.” I never read the menu. I wouldn’t trust it.
On a trip to the U.S. during the pandemic, the customs officer asked me to remove my mask. I joked with him, saying “Would it help to tell you I am a lawyer?” He replied, “Actually, this might make it worse.”
Some lawyers leave the profession, going into other callings. I had a friend who became a baker. I suggested that surely he must rise very early to bake those goodies. He told me he proudly considered his products his friends. His customers regularly praised him. He reminded me that there was never anything disparaging said in the literature about bakers. Shakespeare never said, “First let’s kill all the bakers.” Not surprisingly, when asked, he said, that he often gives his customers a “Baker’s dozen,” throwing in an extra bagel.
Lawyers never have this opportunity. What can we do? Add a thirteenth juror?
I think about why I went into the legal profession. I always had the urge to let right prevail, in part nurtured by one of my heroes, Perry Mason, who would generally expose the real killer, who was usually stupid enough to be sitting in the courtroom.
I was a bit disillusioned. I did some criminal work, mostly consisting of petty crimes. I never once cross-examined a prosecution witness only to have him blurt out, “OK, OK. You got me. Your client is innocent. I shoplifted that toothbrush.”
What to do? Here’s a possible career switch that may be of interest to disgruntled lawyers. How about a gondolier in Venice?
My wife and I recently visited Venice. It was a fine summer evening, and we decided to do what comes naturally in this charming city, namely, take a gondola ride. I asked the gondolier how much. The Venetian air was charged with romance and passion, and price, of course, was of no concern. The good fellow replied, “€200 per hour, sir.” (About 300 Canadian loonies.) I said, “Thank you, sir”. We decided instead to settle for a chocolate gelato. This also comes naturally.
While strolling along San Marco Square Shoshana and I discussed the gondolier’s charging €200 per hour. Many lawyers would only wish to make this much, or greater than double what a Legal Aid certificate pays per hour. I asked myself why should a gondolier charge more than a lawyer? What do they have that we don’t have? I made a comparison.
Firstly popularity. People generally have fantasies about gondoliers being romantic minstrels who sing as they ride along Venice’s charming labyrinth of waterways.
A visit to a lawyer evokes a slightly different atmosphere. The greatest similarity to the aforementioned singing experience is that lawyers are known for singing the blues.
As for the romantic part, there are some lawyers whose love lives would leave even the most colorful gondolieri drifting far behind on the Grand Canal. But this reflection is not about Bill Clinton.
I note lawyers and gondoliers are both popularized prominently in the arts. Gilbert and Sullivan wrote an operetta called The Gondoliers about the enchanting life on Venice’s canals. Then again, William Shakespeare wrote, “Let’s kill all”… the you-know-whats.
Then there is responsibility. If lawyers mess up, the client will sue them. The gondolier’s job is relatively claim free, short of his ramming his gondola into another at five kilometers per hour. However, gondoliers probably do have some form or errors-and-omissions insurance. You never know when some disgruntled client might turn around and sue the gondolier for screwing up the song Funiculi, Funicula.
And let’s not forget training. Lawyers invest years as students, constantly having to pursue professional development. A gondolier? After all, what is left after the teacher shows you how to stand upright and push your oar? I don’t imagine there was a newsflash in the Gondolier’s Newsletter recently that proclaimed: “Gondolieri! Those black-and-white striped shirts you have been wearing since the year 1542 are no longer valid after October 1. You must switch to sleeveless white undershirts.”
And perhaps the best part of the job as compared with lawyers is that all gondoliers get paid in cash immediately. Over the barrel. Or should I say, over the paddle? After Lorenzo says “arrivederci” to you, he has already pocketed your €200. With lawyers, generally unless they get all their money up front, they can calmly say arrivederci to their fee. They will have a receivable that will be as useful as an umbrella in Pompeii that day Vesuvius erupted. However, this may sometimes still be better than that government-issued Legal Aid certificate.
A trip to Venice can certainly entice lawyers to make a career change. So, what are lawyers waiting for? Anybody know where you can get a good deal on those striped shirts?
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