Lawyers and secrets. Real secrets. The things they think ought to be kept secret. I think the inspiration for the January 2012 Last Word, In Strictest Confidence, one was the Herculean effort involved in getting firms to talk about their compensation systems with me. I’m mildly disappointed with it. It should have had more bite. Still, it has its moments.
Unedited excerpt (full text follows):
No client wants a lawyer who’ll blab about your misadventures to all and sundry, and definitely not to someone who might blog or Tweet about it. (“Hey, have you heard? The first-ever what-cha-macallit is finally in the works, and guess who’s representing the Usual Suspect?”)
The flipside of lawyer’s penchant for keeping all things secret is being incorrigible gossips over the things they themselves do not need to keep secret. They will take their clients—and, some, their firms’–secrets to an early, stress-induced grave. But your secrets? They’ll yabber about them quite freely.
“So you know I can’t tell you about our part of the mandate. But between you and me, you know the guys acting for the target? You’ll never believe what they did…”
Photo (Top Secret!) by palomitasymaiz
Last Word: It’s a Secret
There’s a fabulous old Saturday Night Live skit—you might find it on Youtube still if the copyright police haven’t taken it down yet—of a CIA Christmas office party, at which the various agents exchange pleasantries such as, “And how’s your wife and family? If you have one, of course, har har.” “Well, as you know, I can’t tell you if I have a family—but if I could, I’d say they were doing just fine. Little Timmy… I mean… if I had a son, I might call him Timmy…”
Every once in a while, I’ll have a conversation with a lawyer—or a string of conversations with a string of lawyers—that makes me feel like I’m living that SNL skit. “Hey, so how are things?” “Great! Couldn’t be better. Busy, busy, busy.” “Cool. What’cha doing?” “Well… I can’t tell you. But it’s great!” “Sounds great. If I knew a little more about it, I’d probably sound even more enthusiastic.” “Oh, you sure would. It’s pretty awesome to be involved in the first-ever… oh, boy…” “Mmm, first-ever. I can almost muster up sufficient enthusiasm here.” “Shhh! I’ve said too much already! You didn’t hear this from me!” “You realize you haven’t actually told me anything, right?”
I’m exaggerating… but not by much. Here’s a better one. “Hi, so, what’s up?” “Nothing. Why? What have you heard?” “Nothing. I was just asking…” “Stop asking! I can’t tell you anything! How did you even know to call me?” “Really, I know nothing… I now suspect something, but I know nothing.” “There’s nothing to know! Nothing to suspect! Oh, why don’t you leave me alone?” Pause… “You know, you could just hang up.” “But then you’d get suspicious.” “I’m already suspicious. In fact, what I’m suspicious about is probably way worse than the thing you think I should be suspicious about.” “I do not comment on rumours.” “Rumours? What rumours?” “It’s just a rumour!” “OK.” “Why do you sound like you don’t believe me?” “Because I don’t?” “I don’t understand why you keep on badgering me like this!” “Actually, I’m just returning your call…”
Lawyers. You gotta love them, right? Or you’d, well, have the entire profession committed, full of idiosyncrasies that it is. And there is perhaps no greater idiosyncrasy that their desire to keep all manner of things secret.
It’s a professional failing that’s perfectly understandable—almost inevitable, really. What do we generally pay lawyers for? Their knowledge of the particularly abstruse area of the law we need help with, yes, but also, in many cases, the dropcloth of client-lawyer privilege, of secrecy with which they can cover us—under certain circumstances. And lawyers know this: increasingly, in areas where the services they want to offer brush up against other professionals (accountants say, or lobbyists or all manner of other “trusted business advisors”), the ace in the lawyer’s hand is that communication between her and the client is privileged—and communication between client and Joe Professional without an LLB at the end of his name is not.
And lawyers do get entrusted with all sorts of secrets—confidential information—plans—potential legal disasters. No client wants a lawyer who’ll blab about your misadventures to all and sundry, and definitely not to someone who might blog or Tweet about it. (“Hey, have you heard? The first-ever what-cha-macallit is finally in the works, and guess who’s representing the Usual Suspect?”)
This need for confidentiality and secrecy on the client’s part sometimes makes my life as a writer difficult. “I have this incredible deal you should write about. It just fits so perfectly with that story you’re doing.” “Awesome. What is it?” “Well, I can’t tell you.” “When could you tell me?” “I can’t tell you that either. If you knew the timeline, you’d know everything.” “Really? I think you’re giving me too much credit.” “I can tell you it’s really big, though. Really important.” “I’m gonna need just a little bit more than that to write about it.” “Well, you know I’m doing the deal…” “A secret deal for a secret client with a secret timeline you can’t tell me about. Watch that roll off my pen…”
That penchant for secrecy, as I said, when it’s on behalf of a client who wants to keep things under wraps frustrates me—when it doesn’t amuse me—but I get it.
Where it drives me absolutely loopy is when law firms apply that same standard of secrecy to themselves. Which, of course, they do to all manner of things, generally to do with numbers: profitability, compensation systems, compensation distribution. Also, reasons partners and associates leave. Real reasons they got that particular mandate—and didn’t get another one. Because when they don’t come clean with the real information—well, the Street just makes it up. The flipside of lawyer’s penchant for keeping all things secret is being incorrigible gossips over the things they themselves do not need to keep secret. They will take their clients—and, some, their firms’–secrets to an early, stress-induced grave. But your secrets? They’ll yabber about them quite freely.
“So you know I can’t tell you about our part of the mandate. But between you and me, you know the guys acting for the target? You’ll never believe what they did…”
Marzena Czarnecka is silent as the grave. Not.
Marzena Czarnecka 