We were in a small conference room—just me and the sixth-year associate. He was explaining an edit to the undisclosed liabilities representation clause of a merger agreement. I could hear his words, but all I could see was blurred black ink on the page.
A couple of months ago, I had an unexpected exchange with my 15-year-old daughter that perfectly captured some of my hopes for the future. “Act chalant,” she said to her friend. My ears perked up.
Embodying the notions of professionalism is important to long-term success. Be formal but not unfriendly. Friendly but not informal. Efficient but also effective. Zealous but also reasonable. Inquisitive but not annoying. Confident but also humble. Driven but not fanatical. Autonomous but also collaborative. Firm but also flexible.
Why do legal writers resist or dismiss plain language? I addressed that question in my book Writing for Dollars, Writing to Please: “You can point to an assortment of reasons ... but ... they come down to ... lack of will, lack of skill and lack of time.” I’ve explored each of these three reasons in more detail in the book.
Early in my career, I thought confidence in lawyering came from having the right answer—and having it quickly. I watched seasoned litigators rattle off key holdings from memory, negotiate effortlessly with opposing counsel, and speak with authority that seemed innate. I assumed confidence was something you either had or didn’t, and that my job as a young lawyer was to quietly absorb as much as possible until one day I magically crossed some invisible threshold.
Most lawyers want to use artificial intelligence more effectively, but many hold back. The concerns are familiar: malpractice exposure, hallucinations, confidentiality breaches and the fear of relying on a tool that does not feel fully trustworthy.
As prosecutors, we are trained to seek justice. While working for a district attorney, I specialized in sexual offenses and crimes against children. I understood why victims of sexual harm rely on the criminal legal system. But as a victim, I grappled with the contradiction of my professional life and what I wanted personally—an alternative.
We all know Old MacDonald had a farm. And we all know that on his farm, he had an assortment of animals, including chickens, horses and ducks. But little is known about his wife, Edna.
The ABA Journal wants to host and facilitate conversations among lawyers about their profession. We are now accepting thoughtful, non-promotional articles and commentary by unpaid contributors.
