What is a ‘proper lawyer’?

October 18, 2010
Drive Thru lawyer

We’re struck by the assertion of Weightmans’ managing partner Paddy Gaul in this week’s Lawyer: “You can’t be a proper lawyer,” opined Gaul, “unless you understand technology.”

A bold statement, but leaving aside the thorny problem of whether it’s defamatory of a huge swathe of technophobic but eminently well-qualified lawyers, is it true? If one is a legal Luddite, is one an improper lawyer?

Gaul’s view rests on the intersection of law and technology. He told The Lawyer: “All legal work has got to be more efficient. This is largely about technology, you can’t be a proper lawyer unless you understand technology. There’s got to be a lot more investment of time, energy and money.”

But how much technology needs to be understood before a qualified solicitor can proudly declare himself to be ‘proper lawyer’? To find out, we conducted a survey of m’learned friends. The methodology was simple: we despatched several messenger pigeons around the metropolis and asked them to land on the window panes of key legal eagles. Said eagles would be unable to resist the temptation of pigeons, or so we assumed, and thus would reach out and remove the piece of paper on which our questions were written. Then, clutching the pigeons to their slavering beaks, they would complete the survey, before sending them back to us. Remarkably, all this came to pass. Here, then, is the result of our survey:

1. Ability to change a lightbulb

This demonstrates a modicum of technological awareness and is a step in the right direction, not least when we remember that for many lawyers, the whole point of life is to have someone else change their lightbulbs. However, it would be wrong to maintain that because one can change a lightbulb, one is a proper lawyer.

2. Ability to answer a phone

Again, this reveals a commendable commitment to the utilitarian. However, a proper lawyer is not merely he – or she – who knows how to answer a phone.

3. Ability to turn a PC on

A number of lawyers have now mastered this skill but sadly, it doesn’t confer proper lawyer status.

4. Ability to use a dictaphone

M’learned friends have made a virtue of the dictaphone for years. Many insist that it assists with things like shopping lists and generic instructions to general factotums. Or factotae. If you are of this ilk, the chances are that you are on the way to being a proper lawyer.

5. Ability to send an e-mail

At last, we’re getting somewhere. 105% of respondents said that a proper lawyer was someone who could send an e-mail, and 57% put themselves in this category. As Alan Hansen might say, you can’t argue with percentages.

6. Ability to send an attachment with an e-mail

27% of respondents claimed that they knew how to send attachments via e-mail, but only 13% succeeded when asked. We were thus tempted to conclude that this noble 13% were deserving of proper lawyer status – for what more to technological wisdom is there than sending attachments via e-mail – but felt compelled to ask one more question:

7. Ability to write and maintain a blog/general commitment to social media

At this juncture, all but one lawyer replied by querying the meaning of the word ‘blog’ and 117% objected to social media on the basis that the law is not about being sociable. The only one of m’learned friends left in the ring was an individual of Irish/Gallic-sounding hue, who said that conducting a survey about technology and lawyers by messenger pigeon was “absurd – no proper lawyer would bother with it.”

Meanwhile, bemoaning the congruence of their name with that of a TV star, the pigeons took flight to Oswego, Illinois, where they joined Starbucks but, thanks to the proper Drive Thru resident lawyers captured by Flickr user brookenovak, prompty issued injunctions threatening legal proceedings in the event that their images were used. So sorry, folks – no messenger pigeons today, still less Melinda Messenger, for what on earth, really, does she have to do with a post about law and technology?


 

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If you’re Joey Barton, attack is not the best form of defence

May 17, 2012

Interesting times, these, in the life of Joey Barton.

If the violence displayed by the QPR captain at Manchester City last Sunday was remarkable, his subsequent conduct on Twitter has been astonishing. Barton appears to have radically reinterpreted the notion that attack is the best form of defence, lashing out at all and sundry via a series of tweets whose ultimate effect is entirely self-destructive.

In the past 24 hours, Barton has accepted one charge of violent conduct at the Etihad Stadium but denied another. The FA seems set to throw the book at him, and his club has declared that it will deal with the matter after the result of the FA investigation. Conspiracy theorists might conclude that QPR’s management team and board hope that the FA ban Barton for so long a period (four months and more) that their reported desire to rip up his contract can only be bolstered.

What, then, should Barton do? Should he:

(a) Keep his head down and say nothing, or

(b) Issue a sensible statement in which he acknowledges that both his conduct at the Etihad and subsequent tweets have brought QPR into disrepute, and

(c) Add an apology to said statement, or

(d) Go to Portugal, log onto Twitter and tweet that the world is against him but that he doesn’t care because everyone is a moron and he’s worked really hard to get where he is and if anyone is nasty to him again he is going to expose their secrets.

The answer is not (d).

The moral of the story is that if you’re a loose cannon, when you turn attack into defence there is a danger that you will blow yourself up.

Gunning foglessly for clarity

May 15, 2012

A fine piece, this, on Winston Churchill’s gift for language and the obscurantism that goes with so much corporate communication.

But wait, what’s this? Could this injunction have been phrased rather more successfully:

Be concrete, not abstract. Use metaphors to get your message across.

Metaphors are, by definition, not exactly concrete. But be that as it may: there is a lot of sound advice in Clare Lynch’s piece and a revelation, too. We had never heard of the Gunning Fog Index.  But it exists, and reveals the age at which someone would have to leave full-time education to understand given text.

We’re pleased to display our own Gunning Fog rating for the above words. That of the Churchill speech cited by Ms Lynch was 9.698.

The Gunning Fog index is 9.585

Spin at the Leveson Inquiry

May 9, 2012
Leveson witch hunt

The idea that Lord Justice Leveson and his Inquiry’s QC, Robert Jay, are in need of PR advice is intriguing.

Surely their respective tasks ought to be immune from spin? Then again, perhaps the way in which they execute them is deserving of some communications advice. Either way, times have changed. A similar inquiry from yesteryear (and such do exist) would surely not have been accompanied, albeit informally, by communications advice.

Pictured courtesy of this Flickr user: a portrait of the Leveson Inquiry.