Smallfirmville

Observe, Ask Questions & Suggest Solutions –

I am a litigation attorney and I had a unique legal education. While still in college one of my roommates brought me an application for what he said could be a great paying summer job. His father was a court clerk and the courts in New York City were hiring provisional court officers to help fill vacancies that were created as a result of the vast expansion of the courts. This expansion was due in part to the implementation of the “Rockefeller” drug laws. Since I had nothing better to do, I took the test and was called up in July. The year was 1973.

As a result I learned several valuable lessons that have help me through my legal career. I discovered that if you watch various attorneys handling an assortment of legal matters over a period of time, you will gather immeasurable knowledge that can help and guide you through your career. There is just so much one can get from one’s legal studies and keeping up with the “law”. Watching and observing can help you better understand the procedures in court. This allows you to be relaxed and feel confident when you have to stand up and conduct yourself inside a courtroom. I discovered that by the time I started my legal studies, I had an immense understanding of the law, court procedure and the rules of evidence. Even today, I will take the time to watch and observe my colleagues handling their cases in court.

The second valuable lesson I learned was that of always asking questions. I find that most lawyers, myself included, love to talk. I discovered early on while still working in the courts, that unless your are their adversary, if you asked a lawyer why he or she did something or did not do something, they will be quick to relate to you their reasons, their theories and their mindset. I learned so much from other practicing attorneys, by just asking questions and “picking their brains”.

Finally, I discovered early on in my legal career in the district attorney’s office and while working in my firm, that when you go to someone with a problem or just asking for advice, also suggest a possible solution. It will help you develop as an attorney and also demonstrate to senior partners that you can solve problems and handle complicated matters.

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Charles J. Siegel is the managing attorney of a 12 member insurance defense firm located in lower Manhattan. Mr. Siegel has been admitted to practice in New York for over 25 years. He is also a member of the bar in Florida and New Jersey. Mr. Siegel has lectured over the years to various claim departments and organizations in the area of Premises Liability, Auto Liability, New York Labor Law and Bad Faith. Mr. Siegel is proficient in a number of Microsoft software programs, such as Word, Excel & PowerPoint. He holds course certificates from Long Island University and C.W. Post College in Computer Repair, Computer Programming and Web Page Design. He has been a member of the New York State Bar Association for the past 18 years and is the immediate past chair of its’ Electronic Communication Committee (ECC) which has among other responsibilities general oversight of the NYSBA Web site. Mr. Siegel is also a member of the Executive Committee of the Torts, Insurance & Compensation Law Section (TICL) and presently chairs the section. He also chairs the TICL Information Technology Committee and is responsible for the Web site www.nysba.org/TICL.

By Lenny Sienko, guest blogger

When I was a young lawyer thirty-one years ago, I showed up at "Motion Term" one Monday morning at the Delaware County Courthouse in Delhi, New York, the county seat some forty miles from my new office. While I waited, I was treated to an invaluable, free CLE session as I watched and listened to the senior lawyers appear on their matters and argue before the Judge.

When the session ended, I was invited to join all of the other lawyers for lunch at the modest restaurant across the square from the courthouse. The back room was fully occupied by tables and chairs pushed together into one long table, filled on both sides by lawyers who had appeared in court and others who had been title searching at the County Clerk's Office. That luncheon was the first of many over the years during which we questioned, answered, argued, shouted, laughed, and carried on as lawyers are wont to do. It was great fun. I made friends and learned about the practical aspects of the business of law. We settled cases. We plea bargained. We exchanged tips and forms. We complained about the latest depredation by the legislature, designed to make our practice more difficult. We looked forward to our weekly Monday lawyers' luncheon. I learned that this tradition had been carried on since lawyers traveled to the county seat by horseback and steam locomotive. At least we no longer had to share the beds at the boarding house.

As the years passed, many of the senior lawyers passed on and were not replaced. The luncheon tradition finally fell by the wayside a few years ago, diminished by the "new" individual assignment of Judges to cases and the rescheduling of the Monday motion term. Young lawyers no longer had the opportunity on Monday mornings to sit in those old, high-backed wicker chairs and learn as others argued. I was disappointed that the friendly interaction amongst colleagues young and old we once shared seemed to disappear. I missed our friendly rivalry and needed something to take it place.

What does any of this nostalgia have to do with innovation?

I have found that lawyers' use of so-called "social media" has helped fill the gap left by the loss of "Motion Term" and Monday luncheon. These days, when I have a question for my peers, I post it on the NYSBA General Practice Section listserve and wait for the dozens of responses. Lawyers young and old from across the state ask and answer questions, share forms, refer cases, and discuss the "latest and greatest" from the Legislature. We discuss cases with names redacted and recommend tactics and strategies, just as we once did. The audience is scattered through the ether; but the discussion is familiar.

If I want to talk to other lawyers, day or night, across the country and around the world, I can get an answer from my "followers" on Twitter. As I did years ago, I have accepted invitations from other lawyers to join them on Linkedin, Plaxo, FaceBook, and FriendFeed. I get to "talk" to my classmates from law school, young alums from other law schools, solo practitioners, and associates and senior partners from larger firms. We are voluntarily enjoying a great dialog, which I find mentally invigorating and professionally stimulating. My circle of friends upon whom I can call for advice and guidance has expanded from a dozen or so regulars at Monday lunch to hundreds.

I read an enormous amount of material each day and night, coming to me in e-newsletters and RSS feeds, but also on legal blogs and Twitter. I read quickly and do a kind of "mental triage". I save links to the items, sites, etc, which interest me AND will interest other lawyers. This is a very broad spectrum of possibilities. I choose 4 or 5 a week and post them to the General Practice Blawg. Sometimes I just can't help myself and the number increases to as many as 10 posts for the week. Sometimes at Monday Lunch I was the last one talking as the bills were handed out to the diners.

Every Friday night, I go to the General Practice Blawg site and click on the site's RSS feed, which gives me the material for a weekly e-zine, "wEbrief", in quickly convertible form. I update any of the "blurbs", short paragraphs, which may be outdated. These are the content of wEbrief. The General Practice Blawg serves a few hundred readers. wEbrief gets sent as a "blast email" to a couple of thousand Section members. I also "repurpose" the posts for my own blawg, which is linked to a feed to Twitter, Friendfeed, and FaceBook. My conversations go on day and night, seven days a week--not just Mondays.

Does all of this innovative interaction profit me? Did my ersatz Monday luncheon tutorials profit me? I won't get rich; but the answer is "yes" to both questions. More importantly, the new social media keep me from being socially and professionally isolated, just as the old luncheons did.

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Lenny Sienko installed his first Macintosh computer in his solo practice office in 1986. It replaced a teletype with shiny paper attached to a "blackjack" modem. He is a charter member of the NYSBA President's NYLawNet Committee (now the Electronic Communications Committee), editor of wEbrief an electronic newsletter, and the General Practice blogger-in-chief. He can be reached at most social media sites by his ubiquitous "lennyesq".

Personal Web site
http://www.hancock.net/~lennyesq/

Office Blog
http://lennyesq.wordpress.com/

By Elissa Hecker, guest blogger

The beauty of being a solo practitioner or part of a small firm is that one has more freedom to work with clients on a personal basis, and foster relationships. Unfortunately when working in a large firm, many attorneys do work for clients who they never meet.

An attorney’s job is to zealously advocate for her client. However, in addition, it is the solo or small firm attorney who can add the personal touch, both as lawyer and counselor.

It is important to know how to listen to clients, and what to listen for; ask the right questions, probe, and counsel through frustrations, ambivalence, anger, hopes and dreams.

It is crucial to listen and be a guide of sorts to help clients find their inner strengths. In effect, our legal guidance and experience should be able to help our clients become better advocates in their business dealings, while we help with legal and business strategies. What many people don’t realize is that the mere act of listening can help alleviate pressures that exist in our clients’ worlds, which will then lead to clearer heads and better decision making. Often clients may be afraid or concerned to challenge an agreement, potential dealmaker or an adversary. It is our job to use our legal problem solving skills, so that clients can maintain their good, and avoid the bad, relationships. We do our jobs so that our clients can do theirs. At the end of the day, we are a significant part of their support systems.

I believe in always trying to negotiate well so that every party walks away with something, obviously with favorable results for my clients. Rarely will there be an exchange where, though terse some discussions may be, both sides (and their attorneys) continue to respect and appreciate each other. That leads to continued business relationships, which benefits everyone.

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Elissa D. Hecker of the Law Office of Elissa D. Hecker, practices in the fields of copyright, trademark and business law. Her clients encompass a large spectrum of the entertainment world. In addition to her private practice, Elissa is Past Chair of the Entertainment, Arts and Sports Law (EASL) Section of the NYSBA, Editor of the EASL Journal, member of the Board of Editors for the NYSBA Bar Journal and Co-Chair and creator of the EASL Pro Bono Committee. She is also a frequent author, lecturer and panelist, a member of the Copyright Society of the U.S.A. (CSUSA) and a member of the Board of Editors for the Journal of the CSUSA. Elissa is the recipient of the New York State Bar Association’s 2005 Outstanding Young Lawyer Award. She can be reached at (914) 478-0457 or via email at: EHeckerEsq@yahoo.com.

By Warren Redlich, guest blogger

I'm honored to be asked to write a guest post for Smallfirmville. I run a small law firm in the Albany area.

One thing is on my mind at the moment about small firm practice: What does it mean to be successful?

On first hearing that question, many will think of hard work, long hours, studiousness, intelligence, and perhaps passion. These are helpful for those who want to be successful, and they are very important in order to be a good lawyer. But there are plenty of good lawyers who are not successful.

The general public thinks we're all rich. Those of us in the world of solos and small firms know that's far from true. We all know solid attorneys who work long hours but may never crack $75K in annual income. Breaking that down to hourly pay for the amount of time worked, they could probably make more in a variety of trade jobs that wouldn't require a six-figure student loan debt.

So what's the secret of success? It comes down to one word: Revenue.

Revenue drives the practice of law. You can be the best lawyer in the world, but your skills and experience are meaningless without clients to help. And if you don't have clients, you don't have revenue. Perhaps you can have clients without revenue, but that only works for a few trust-fund beneficiaries.

A lawyer who controls the revenue is in control. Lawyers who do not bring in revenue depend on those who do.

When revenue is hard to come by, firms panic. In the current economic meltdown we've even seen them vanish.

If you accept that revenue is important, that brings us to the next question: How do successful lawyers generate revenue?

The generally accepted wisdom is that if you do good work for your clients, then in the long run there's a good chance you'll get more work from them and they'll refer other business to you. And then you'll have steady long-term revenue. That's true to an extent. But for many areas of practice it is difficult for clients to determine the quality of the lawyer's work. The best criminal defense lawyers see many of their clients go to prison. The finest divorce attorneys will have many angry clients.

The real truth about that pearl of wisdom is customer service. If you talk to your clients, keep them informed, listen to them, return their phone calls and answer their questions, they will appreciate that you pay attention to them.

Unfortunately, that still assumes you had clients to start with. There's a chicken and egg problem. You can't do good work for your clients, nor provide them with good customer service, unless you have clients.

Maybe in the good old days you'd catch on with a firm and work for a partner who had steady revenue. You'd work hard and learn from the partner, and one day he'd ride off into the sunset leaving you with the practice. Except that doesn't happen much any more, and maybe it didn't happen all that much then.

So where does revenue come from? The first and most obvious answer is luck. I lucked into the revenue that sustains our firm. Having little work to do, and knowing something about the Internet, I started a fairly basic Web site for my budding solo practice. About two years later, after I had started looking for jobs, I suddenly Web site, calling, and then hiring me. I had revenue.

Others luck into revenue in different ways. Maybe it's some kind of networking or political connections. Or just stumbling into the right niche at the right time.

The second step, after you've lucked into a source of revenue, is maintaining and expanding it.

I did a fairly good job with what you're supposed to do - doing good work for the clients as well as providing good customer service. That may be enough for some kinds of luck. We get some repeat business and client referrals, but our areas of practice and client base are not going to generate enough business on their own. So we depend on the magic Web site.

It was important to understand where the revenue was coming from and why. Fortunately - luck again - I had the computer skills to analyze our Web site's traffic. We were getting a lot of visits to our Web site from people searching Google and Yahoo for phrases related to what we do. Over the past several years I have applied some of the keys to being a good lawyer toward being a successful lawyer. You may remember these from above: hard work, long hours, studiousness, and passion. I poured all of that into understanding "search engine optimization" and putting it to work for my law firm Web site. In doing so, I found other ways to generate more traffic to my Web site, and to turn more of that traffic into paying clients. And that turned a struggling solo practice into a growing small law firm.

One lawyer I know has lectured to lawyers and other relevant professionals consistently in his field for many years. He also writes "the book" in his field. I'm just guessing, but it probably all started for him with some luck - landing the right job, helping him develop the right skills, and then being asked to lecture once or twice. That luck was only the beginning. He's put countless hours into writing and lecturing. That seems to work for him, generating referrals from those who attend his seminars.

This is one critical break between good and successful. Many lawyers do not want to put the same time and effort into developing revenue that they put into doing good legal work. I sympathize with that attitude. I remember the early days of my legal career. I had a job where I just focused on doing good work for the clients. The company I worked for generated all the work and I didn't have to worry about revenue. It was bliss to an extent, but eventually I learned the hard way about the connection between revenue and power.

When I tell lawyers about building Web site, they don't want to put the time in. They want someone else to take care of it for them. It seems like lawyers feel that way about marketing in general. We try the Yellow Pages because someone tells us it will work, and we see others doing it. But it stinks. We hear about "Top of Mind Awareness" and try doing TV, radio or print ads. That might work for some, but for most of us it's just another waste of money.

You can't expect that revenue will just fall in your lap if you do good legal work. You have to work to generate revenue. And that's the secret of success. Hopefully I'll remember that.

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Warren Redlich is a successful attorney in Albany, NY. You can learn more about him at http://www.redlichlaw.com or http://albany-lawyer.blogspot.com.

When I graduated Hofstra Law School in the early 1990’s, America was in a recession just as it is today. I didn’t have a job. I hadn’t been recruited during first-year big firm interviews. I didn’t have a relative that owned a practice and the public sector jobs were snatched-up by my bilingual classmates. I had no relevant experience to offer. I hadn’t been a paralegal or a police officer or an accountant in a past life. I had never been anything. I’d come to Hofstra straight from college. There was no Monster.com. There was no Internet, period. I sent a mass mailing of boilerplate cover letters and resumes to every law firm and corporation I could find. I received zero response.

With prospects rapidly dwindling and with no steady income, I waved goodbye to seven years of glorious independence and moved home. My parents had long-since sold the house I grew up in so I took up residence on the couch in my dad’s one-bedroom apartment. My dad had remarried and the combination of tight-quarters, a frustrated 25-year-old and a stepmother who had never raised a child (or an adult for that matter) quickly proved a volatile mix.

The cold mailings continued, as did their futility. Mild depression and a sense of helplessness set in. What could I do other than wait for the mailman or for the telephone to ring? After several months, my stepmother had experienced enough of my sloth and self-pity. She abandoned her normally patient demeanor, stared me straight in the eyes and hissed, “Go out and get a job.”

So I threw on my best suit, packed my portfolio with resumes and drove to a stretch of Main Street where many of the houses had been converted into small law offices. In one of the first buildings I entered, a lawyer was leaning over his secretary’s shoulder discussing some paperwork. “Can I help you?” he asked. I took a deep breath, straightened my posture and replied, “I’m a newly-admitted attorney with no experience and I’m looking for any kind of legal work, full time, part time or temporary.”

Although the attorney didn’t have work for me, his response breathed new life into my job search. “No lawyer has ever just walked through my door and asked for a job,” he said. “With that kind of chutzpah, I have no doubt you’ll find work very quickly and that you’ll develop into a great lawyer.” He was certainly right on the first account. Thirty-or-so law doorbells later, I landed a job and embarked on my legal career.

On September 11, 2001, I was preparing a client for a deposition when my building shook on its foundation. I looked outside the window into the Canyon of Heroes to see paper raining down as if Mayor Giuliani had ordered an unexpected ticker-tape parade. Minutes later the second plane hit and my building was evacuated. While my co-workers fled uptown and to Brooklyn, my apartment was a block away, on the opposite side of the World Trade Center. With nowhere to go, I stood by and waited for the fires to be put out. Like the rest of the world, I too underestimated the melting point of steel. Before I knew it, I was cloaked in darkness, breathing pulverized concrete. With the help of strangers, I made it to safety. Fortunately, I was no worse for the wear.

By evening, I arrived at my dad’s place where I learned from CNN that my apartment and workplace had been given a new name, “Ground Zero.” I would be living at home. Again. With eight years of maturity under my belt and the help of a roomy new house, my step-mom and I got along swimmingly. I thoroughly enjoyed my four months with my family.

Spending quality time with my family and the trauma of Nine-Eleven altered my perspective dramatically. My six-figure salary, once a pipe dream, might as well have been seven because I just wasn’t happy. I decided to start my own firm. I had start-up money, I had the skill and I had the support of friends and family. But I had no cases. I started my law firm without as much as a single file.

It was okay. I knew where to get them.

As I had done nearly a decade earlier, I threw on my best suit and pounded the pavement. I walked from the top to bottom of every accessible skyscraper in downtown Manhattan, stopping in every law office to ask if they had cases that had become too insignificant or troublesome to be worthwhile. In only a few months, I had 50 files. They were mostly other lawyers’ junk but I earned enough legal fees from them to keep me up and running until I brought in bigger and better cases.

So, for those of you who are unemployed or who own a struggling business, don’t just sit by idly hoping for opportunity to knock. Heed the words of my stepmother and also the lyrics of one of my favorite bands:

“If you want it, you can have it, but you've got to learn to reach out there and grab it.”

-Weezer

How many calls or emails do you receive every week from so-called “lawyer marketing gurus” who tell you that your Web site is a masterpiece but isn’t showing up on the first page of Google? How many of your techie friends say, “tsk-tsk” when you inform them you aren’t using Twitter or LinkedIn?

I laugh quietly at the panic-stricken herd of lawyers following each other off the proverbial social media cliff. I don’t have to be on the first page of Google or the fifteenth, for that matter. Don’t get me wrong, I occasionally “tweet” and I write a pretty hefty check to Reach Local each month, but my all-time most effective marketing technique doesn’t involve either. (No, it’s not blogging.)

My most successful marketing technique is to lecture.

I can see the hands going up already. Okay, one at a time now.

“Don’t I have to be famous to lecture?”

You are famous. Yes, you are! You are famous with your clients.

“But my wife and kids don’t even listen to me, so where am I going to find an audience?”

You’d be surprised. I’ve lectured for professional organizations, for networking groups and even at churches. Adult education programs and the local Chamber of Commerce are other options. People love free legal information. All you have to do is ask around.

“But isn’t soliciting business a violation of the newly-adopted Rules of Professional Conduct?”

Nope. A lawyer may speak publicly or write for a publication on legal topics so long as the lawyer does not undertake to give individual advice. 22 NYCRR 1200.50(r)

“I’m not a scholar, though. So what in the world would I lecture about?”

Let me be clear, I’m not talking about continuing legal education. I don’t lecture for lawyers. Whenever I’m scheduled to lecture, I think about actual cases I’ve handled and how my clients could simply have avoided getting into legal trouble in the first place. For example, I recently lectured for young entrepreneurs on contract-basics. I told the story of one of my clients who ended up travelling across the country to go to court because his very own contract lacked a simple forum selection clause. This little anecdote drew oohs and ahs from the audience. I swear it.

Are you a personal injury lawyer? Explain to your audience what to do in case of an automobile accident. Point out that an injured person only has 30 days to file for no-fault benefits and that having a lawyer prepare the paperwork is vital. Do you handle Social Security Disability? Tell your audience not to be discouraged by the initial rejection letter and explain that they may still be entitled to benefits. Are you a criminal defense attorney? Explain why it’s important after an arrest to refuse to speak to the police until after you’ve spoken to your attorney.

“Okay, I did my thing. Now how do I convert lecturing into cash?”

There are few ways. First, you will be astounded at how many people ask for your business card once you step down from the pulpit. I have now lectured at half a dozen events and have been asked to handle a case on all but one occasion. In fact, I landed (and ultimately settled) a six-figure wrongful death case after my very first lecture.

Even if I walk away without a case, I make sure to add my lectures to my resume and to my Web site so that I am perceived as an authority by potential future clients.

Believe it or not, scoring clients isn’t even on my mind when I speak publicly. When I’m behind the lectern, the greatest prize is the feeling I get after I’ve successfully answered the audience members’ questions. The round of applause I get after my 15 minutes of fame is the icing on the cake. And, if nothing else, there’s always a free meal.

Like The G-20 or Chelsea Lately, most of you have heard of Twitter but probably don’t know much about it.

Briefly, Twitter is a social networking website that enables users to send and read 140-character updates or “tweets.” Twitter is essentially Facebook without the photographs, games, emails, clubs/groups, videos or party invitations. In fact, you don’t even have friends on Twitter. You have followers. Anyone can follow you without your permission or approval and vice versa. Perhaps the only fun thing about Twitter is that various celebrities are on it and you can follow everything they do and say. For example:

Celebrity X: I just farted.

However, even this element of Twitter has been called into question. It is widely reported that many celebs hire others to “ghost tweet” for them. So, in the foregoing example, it might actually have been Celebrity X’s summer intern who passed wind and not Celebrity X herself.

If you want a more comprehensive lesson on Twitter, read, The Ultimate Guide for Everything Twitter. I’m not going to reinvent the wheel here.

TWITTER HITS THE BAR

Recently, the National Law Journal chimed in on Twitter. Author Gina Rubel’s headline posed the question: Is Twitter a valuable networking tool or just for the birds? Curiously, Ms. Rubel never really answered her own question. So I will.

For the most part, Twitter is for the birds.

At this stage of its development, Twitter is only potentially useful for a tiny percentage of all practicing lawyers. That is, small firms or solo practitioners with blogs.

MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE

If you haven’t tried Twitter yet, Twitter makes you feel like you are trying to talk during a rock concert. If you want to be heard, you’d better have something important to say. Unlike Celebrity X, no one cares if you have stomach issues unless, perhaps, there is a gastroenterologist on Twitter.

On the other hand, Twitter is a decent way for a lawyer to publicize a blog. For example, I might tweet:

MarshallRIsaacs: Twitter: For lawyers or birds? Definitely birds!

I would then add a link to my article. My tweet would get a lot of attention. Why? Because Twitter is a religion and its followers are fanatics. I mean, fanatics in the Jonestown sense. Saying “Twitter is for the birds” is not much different than saying “The Pope sucks.”

HELLO. IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THERE?

Even if you have something important to say, you need someone to say it to. Unless you are a celebrity, gathering followers on Twitter is a Herculean task. The easiest way to have someone follow you is, well, to follow them. (Unfortunately, this does not apply to celebrities.)

There’s a caveat. If you follow too many people too quickly, you will be deemed a “spammer” and very few people will return your follow.

I have been on Twitter every day for two months and I have amassed roughly 600 followers by following five here, five there, ten here, ten there. It’s the same way I manage to stock up on sugar packets for my office coffee machine without getting arrested at the local deli.

15 SECONDS OF FAME

If 600 followers sounds like a lot, it isn’t. Some of my followers follow thousands, even tens of thousands of “tweople”. This creates a whole new problem for the messenger. That is, even the best tweets are short-lived. Twitter only displays twenty tweets at a time. With thousands of people tweeting, those twenty tweets will disappear from the monitor as soon as it is refreshed. Thus, successful tweeting is in periodically repeating. Eat your heart out, Dr. Seuss!

WATER, WATER EVERYWHERE BUT NOT A DROP TO DRINK

Now that you have a few hundred followers, a blog and a clever pitch, you’re on your way, right? Wrong. The most significant problem for lawyers on Twitter is that the vast majority of your followers are neither potential clients nor potential referrers.

Clearly, the largest contingent on Twitter are the small business marketing "gurus". Alas, I'm being too gentle. Twitter is infested with them. I am followed by more marketing gurus than lawyers. My guru-followers tweet incessantly and insatiably. They rarely go out of their way to interact with me even when I initiate conversation.

I recently came across an article which mirrored my experiences. In Twitter & Stupid Internet Marketing Gurus, Tim Brownson directly solicited on-line marketing help from his 300-plus followers, many of whom were self-professed marketing gurus or who presumably knew of one. He set a full hour aside in order to review the multitude of responses he anticipated receiving. To his surprise, Brownson did not receive a single reply. These "gurus" were so busy tweeting advice, they never even noticed Brownson's cry for their help.

If you are like me, the remainder of your followers will be attorneys, legal publications, law schools and other law-related businesses from all fifty states, Canada, Australia and England. How many of these will have cases to refer to you? The answer: When was the last time you referred a case to an out-of-state or out-of-country attorney?

REDEMPTION

Before I am unfollowed, blocked or drawn and quartered by my fellow tweople, permit me to extend an olive branch. Twitter is not without its redeeming qualities. While Twitter probably won’t increase your caseload, it will allow you to share your expertise and opinions with the media and other professionals with an ease not previously possible outside of a dirty chat room. After all, it was Twitter that brought the New York State Bar Association to my personal blog and to subsequently offer me this honorable position writing Smallfirmville.

Recently, I came across an article on Law.Com's Small Firm Business, entitled, "What Makes a Lawyer Great?" by Molly Peckman.

I thought, “what a great topic for an article,” and clicked on the link, anxious to gain insight from my small firm and solo peers.

What I got was a slap in the face. Actually, it was more like a beating.

In her quest to determine what makes a lawyer great, Ms. Peckman considered contacting lawyers from “Philadelphia’s Best Lawyers 2009” magazine. She was reluctant, however, suspecting that the winners are those with the best public relations campaigns.

“Hallelujah!” I shouted with enthusiasm rivaling the Harlem Boys Choir. Molly wasn’t going to drink the Kool Aid.

In the next moment, however, my elation began to wane. As quickly as Ms. Peckman had dismissed Philadelphia’s Best Lawyers, she did a one-eighty and decided to embrace them as ideal candidates. Ms. Peckman had changed her mind after calling Philadelphia’s Best Lawyers and finding out that the winners are voted-in by their peers. Good old democracy in action.

Now, I have been in practice for fifteen years. Every year, New York’s Best Lawyers (same publisher as Philadelphia) comes in the mail and passes into my circular file in near-mint condition. I have never received a ballot. None of my colleagues or co-workers have ever received a ballot. So who does get to vote? Stealing a page from Ms. Peckman, I called Best Lawyers and quickly found out the answer.

Are you sitting down? Good.

The answer is: This year’s Best Lawyers are elected by last year’s Best Lawyers.

What? You didn’t hear me? Okay, I’ll speak up a bit.

This year’s Best Lawyers are elected by last year’s Best Lawyers.

Let me put it to you another way. If our government had employed Philadelphia’s Best Lawyers' methodology, either Peter Griffin or Dick Cheney would be President right now.

If I wasn’t irked enough at the hypocrisy of it all, the voice on the other end of the phone volunteered one final parting shot: “Most of the candidates come from the big law firms.”

Of course, this came as no great surprise. I have been long-resigned to the fact that laypeople think bigger is always better. So I returned to reading the article, hoping Ms. Peckman’s judgment would improve.

It didn’t.

In deciding who to ask, “What makes a lawyer great”, Ms. Peckman selected lawyers from twelve different firms. Of the twelve firms, nine have 50 attorneys or more. The smallest had around 20. (Mind you, we’re talking Philadelphia firms, not New York City firms.) Ms. Peckman also selected, I assume by pure happenstance, an attorney from her own thousand-attorney law firm.

Apparently, 20 is the smallest thing Ms. Peckman can see from her station, way up in the clouds. I guess I really can’t fault Ms. Peckman. In these days of big firm meltdown, kissing-up is key to survival.

What really hurt, though, was the betrayal by my would-be colleagues at Small Firm Business. By publishing Ms. Peckman’s article, they tacitly conceded on my behalf that bigger is best.

The K.O. punch was delivered by Ms. Peckman.

Ms. Peckman described each of her choices as a “lawyer’s lawyer.” Ms. Peckman defined a lawyer’s lawyer as “the kind of lawyer another calls or would recommend to a loved one, the kind of lawyer other lawyers respect.”

Good golly, Ms. Molly!

Where I come from, that is the definition of lawyer. Are things so dour at Dechert that merely doing the right thing elevates you to the rank of superhero?

So, what is the answer to the question, “What makes a lawyer great?” I would suggest that all of Ms. Peckman’s candidates missed the mark. While I have never received an accolade for being a lawyer, other than perhaps a “thank you,” I leave you with my opinion:

The great lawyer zealously represents his or her clients. At a reasonable price.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Marshall R. Isaacs. I was invited by New York State Bar Association Web Site Editor, Barbara Beauchamp, to write the NYSBA’s Small Law Firm and Solo Practice Blog.

I hope it is not foreshadowing but mere coincidence that Beauchamp means “beautiful field” in French while my last name translates roughly into “rabbit pellets.”

Just kidding! Isaacs in Hebrew means “laughter,” which is what I have been recruited, in part, to provide. Ms. Beauchamp asked me to write for the NYSBA after stumbling upon the humorous and satirical postings in my personal blog “Summary Judgment”. I will endeavor to carry my musings over to the NYSBA’s Web site, along with Summary Judgment’s dedicated and loyal following. (Love you, mom and dad!)

I look forward to sharing my forthright, no-nonsense and often contrarian perspectives on solo and small firm practice and, hopefully, not costing Ms. Beauchamp and her staff their jobs.