The Life O'Reilly

Summer of 2005

“There has to be a better way,” I muttered, as I replaced the phone receiver on its cradle. I’d arrived at the offi ce long before seven and had been embroiled in activity since the moment I’d hunkered down into my black leather swivel chair. I’d taken part in an early conference call with adversaries and also had papers that needed to be filed in Dallas by four o’clock (five o’clock New York time), and, by the time I’d turned around, the digital clock on my desk cautioned thatit was eleven-twenty. That didn’t provide much time beforethe partners’ meeting, which was at noon at the Harvard Club.

Generally, the meetings were pretty much bullshit, though this one was expected to be important. After covering the usual topics like associate productivity and fi nancial matters, the hot issue was our new policy on pro bono work. Williams Gardner & Schmidt was always among the leaders in The American Lawyer’s list of highest profi ts-per-partner,but its reputation in pro bono was downright disgraceful. Williams Gardner didn’t overtly discourage pro bono, but it didn’t exactly encourage it either, which ultimately sealed the cause’s fate at the firm. Bottom line—associates were terrified to spend time on anything other than billable clients,and partners totally lacked the incentive to initiate pro bonowork themselves, acutely aware that every minute of the day influenced their quarterly draw.

Until, of course, the public relations component became a factor.

The meeting took place in the club’s most grandiose space;large Palladian windows revealed the New York cityscape, a gold chandelier hung from the lofty ceiling. Like the rest ofthe club, the room was old world (and, if you ask me, stuff y as hell), with oak-paneled walls and Venetian sconces. For a blue-collar boy, who had worked his way through BinghamtonUniversity and Brooklyn Law, this was a whole other world—an elitist world that, even after twelve-plus years with the firm (that should have been accounted for in dog years), stilldidn’t feel quite right.

To foster an open discussion, the tables were arranged inthe form of a large square with twenty lawyers on each side. Waiters fully garbed in black tuxedos with penguin-tailed jackets carefully served tossed salads, house-cured gravlax,and the main courses, orders which had been taken uponarrival. Cocktail waitresses darted to and from the bar, as the elder members of the firm had no qualms about getting sauced during lunch. Junior partners were uncomfortablewith the concept, and, with stacks of work screaming forattention, we knew our limitations and stuck to soft drinks or bottled water.

At twelve forty-five, the meeting was called to order. Th e firm’s managing partner, Wilfred J. T. Schmidt III, cleared his throat directly into the microphone set in front of him,commanding silence. Will had thick gray hair, parted neatlyto the side; it was well-groomed and matched his mustache, which was affixed to a square face that projected arrogance.He held his head high and with an air of authority that, despite certain time-imposed wrinkles, spoke of ageless strength. Willsat in the middle of the north side of the makeshift square. His cohorts, cloaked in similar three-piece suits and paisley bowties, acted the part, though there was no mistaking who was in charge. After the meeting, they would retreat to the smoking room to enjoy the finest-grown tobacco, either ina pipe or a cigar, but not before donning ridiculous-looking ascots and velvet smoking jackets.

A recording secretary took attendance and kept the minutes.

Will followed the usual agenda and, in turn, introduced the chairperson of each of the firm’s committees, starting with finance and going on through recruiting and technology. After a series of brief status reports, Will removed his thick,tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses, set them on the table, and turned to the important topic of the day.

“Thank you, folks. I am delighted with what I have heard today. We remain one of Wall Street’s elite and most profi tablelaw firms, which is a testament to not only the fi ne reputationwe have earned and enjoyed over the course of our history,but to the fact that we have not rested on our laurels. Indeed, we continue to perform at the highest level and deliver the best results for both our longstanding clients as well as our new ones. We should all be proud.”

“Here, here!” several partners proclaimed, raising glasses in toast and replacing them for a round of applause. Willwaited for silence.

“As you know, more and more of our competitors haveinvigorated their commitment to the community at large … through what is known as pro bono work, if you will. Forreasons unbeknownst to me, we have not made the same commitment,” said Will, rolling his eyes and coaxing raucous laughter from his contemporaries and wry, placating smiles from the rest, “and, as a consequence, we have been chastised by the press as insensitive, money-hungry, selfi sh mongrels.

“As you know, more and more of our competitors haveinvigorated their commitment to the community at large … through what is known as pro bono work, if you will. Forreasons unbeknownst to me, we have not made the same commitment,” said Will, rolling his eyes and coaxing raucous laughter from his contemporaries and wry, placating smiles from the rest, “and, as a consequence, we have been chastised by the press as insensitive, money-hungry, selfi sh mongrels.Once again, I have no idea why …” he said, receiving a similar,yet more subdued reaction.

“But the fact of the matter is, ladies and gentlemen, thisfirm has always adapted to changes in the environment.”The members of the small female and minority contingents gritted their teeth and bit their lips, discreetly sharing looks of disapproval with each other. “If we are going to continueto embody the touchstones of leadership and success in our field, then we must also set an example in the community.Accordingly, for all of the foregoing reasons, and based on the feedback I have received from many of you over the course ofthe last few months, I hereby propose the formation of a new firm committee to be known as the Pro Bono Committee.”

Will paused to take a swig of scotch.

“In this regard, I have already spoken with Ruth Davidson, who has agreed to serve as chair,” said Will, gesticulating toward Ruth, red of hair and pale of skin and dressed in a black pantsuit. She feigned a Mona Lisa smile. “Ruth will coordinate assignments among the attorneys and act as the firm’s liaison to NYC Legal Services, a nonprofi t organizationhere in town which, from what I am told, is the oldest providerof free legal services in the city.

“Furthermore, for this to work effectively, we must institutea formal policy, mandating that each attorney, including partners, counsel, and associates, devote three percent of his or her billable hours to such endeavors. So, if our associates are hitting their mandatory twenty-fi ve-hundred-per-yearminimum, an additional seventy-five shouldn’t amount toa hill of beans. And, of course, if they don’t like it, they can always go in-house and never be heard from again,” saidWill, provoking a mix of snorts and cackles throughout the room.

“I suspect that some of you may do so already, but,nevertheless, I would like to suggest that we all dedicate ourselves to getting involved in more … charitable activities. By that, I mean get involved in, sit on the board of, or evenhelp run—if you find the time—some type of community or charitable organization. It will be a positive refl ectionon the firm and may help eviscerate this … shall I say … notoriety that has become affixed to our fine name that we and our predecessors, including my father, may he rest inpeace, labored so long and hard to build.