Unless you are a dinosaur lawyer or an aficionado of old movies, you probably don’t remember seeing the movie with that title released more than 60 years ago. The plot line involves a bunch of grifters and others (played by popular 1960s actors and comedians, most of whom you’ve probably never heard), chasing after money buried in the California desert. It is everyone for themselves. Sounds familiar?
How is the world mad? Too many examples for my word limit, but here are several:
Since target practice seems to be de rigueur in Washington these days, the DOJ has suspended the acting deputy director of the department’s Immigration Litigation section for ostensibly failing to follow the order of superiors in the snafu involving a Maryland man erroneously swept up and flown to El Salvador. The attorney told the court that the man should not have been deported. A naughty lawyer, said DOJ. He erred in being candid with the court.
Didn’t we all learn in law school and in all our years of practice since then that we have dual loyalties, not just to our clients, but to the court as well, that we have the obligation to be truthful to the court? Ethics refresher time? Meanwhile, the chief justice has put a hold on the deportee return.
And now Mr. T. (not the Mr. T of “The A-Team,” a popular TV show of decades ago) has announced that some of the law firms he has used for target practice have agreed to his terms and conditions pursuant to various executive orders. Those firms will be used to help the administration — pro bono, it is assumed — since they’ve pledged more than $300 million in pro bono for administration pet causes, on coal mining issues, and tariff negotiations.
Cadwalader is the latest Biglaw firm trying to avoid an executive order. And sights are now set on Susman Godfrey.
Who will decide how the pro bono time is calculated and at what rate? How will Biglaw partners and associates be compensated for handling this work? Any thoughts?
Jack Benny, a popular 20th century comedian known for his skinflint persona, when confronted by a robber, was told “Your money or your life.” Benny replied, “I’m thinking it over.” Biglaw firms who have been subject to presidential executive orders are thinking them over, but some have already made Faustian bargains. And if you don’t already know what a “Faustian bargain is,” Google it.
Rachel Cohen, the Skadden Arps associate who resigned over Skadden’s deal with the administration, may have been the first to publicly announce her displeasure with her firm’s decision, but she will not be the last. These are some other examples from Skadden.
An associate has also left Willkie Farr, now the home of Doug Emhoff, the former second gentleman. So has the firm’s longest-serving lawyer.
Should there now be several Biglaw Lawyers Anonymous groups? One would be a support group for those in Biglaw who courageously left their firms in protest of deals cut with the administration. “Hello, my name is X and I just left Biglaw firm Y, leaving behind a substantial book of business and multimillion dollars in compensation. I couldn’t live with myself if I stayed, and my family would have given me stink eyes for staying.”
Then there’s the other group, those who admit that they’re staying, not because they care so much about their obligations as lawyers to support and defend the Constitution, as about their own hides, i.e., their books of business, their multimillion-dollar compensation, and the purported needs of their families who will give them stink eyes if they don’t stay. (Party of how many for cave seating?)
Yay to ATL for creating the brand new “Spine Index.” Those who have left may not have either the money or the clients (at least at the moment) but they have their lives and their integrity. Value? Priceless.
And what about clients who will wonder if the spineless firms will show no spine when it comes to representing them? It truly is a mad, mad, mad, mad world.
Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at [email protected].
