The second Tuesday in April was the inaugural International Be Kind To Lawyers Day. The day was conceived by a non-lawyer who explains at www.bekindtolawyers.com that he feels sorry for lawyers and thinks we should be “treated like regular people” for at least one day a year. To celebrate the day, I planned to seek kindness by sitting in Martin Place, in my suit, next to a sign stating “lawyer” with an arrow pointing to me.
But, alas, duty called. A regular corporate client wanted me to work from their office for the day. Not wanting to forsake the day (and the kindness I deserved), I created a sign more suited to the office environment. My new sign explained the day and announced: “I prefer kindness in the form of: • tea and biscuits • forced smile/hello • hugs • piggyback rides.” For good measure, I created another sign that simply said: “Lawyers are people too”.
I then thought I had better share the (request for) goodwill and emailed my signs to two hundred lawyers I know. (I emailed only the lawyers I know very well and those whom I know hardly at all. Blossoming relationships I thought best left alone.) I immediately received a flood of bounce-back emails in the form of delivery failures. No less than seventy lawyers – more than a third of my professional contacts – had moved on, without feeling the need to let me know. Even worse, two dozen ‘out of office assistants’ responded with boasts of people on holidays – no doubt trying to forget they are lawyers at all.
I printed my signs and left home to catch my train. On board, I felt inspired and decided to put my signs up in the carriage. I took a photo and posted it on facebook using my phone. It provoked an immediate response from a ‘friend’: “So you post these signs on a train … and then the power gets cut, delaying 80 per cent of Cityrail commuters – coincidence? I think not. Thanks a lot.”
When I finally arrived at my client’s premises, it took me an hour to gather up the courage to tick “? piggyback rides” and affix my signs to the door. I waited. Someone approached. He paused, read the signs, and entered without knocking.
“How are you going with that contract I asked you to look at last week?”
I made the usual excuses and promises, and then waited – expecting some kindness. It didn’t come. Instead, there came someone else, and then someone else, and someone else again – each following up for some piece of work. The signs on the door were drawing them in!
By lunchtime, I’d discarded the signs. I’d decided the kindest thing I could do for myself was adopt the low sort of profile preferred by gatekeeper-lacking lawyers everywhere.
At home, in the evening, I reviewed the email responses I had received from my colleagues. Of the two hundred lawyers I’d emailed, only five had responded. Two chose to ignore the content of my email, and wrote to me about something else. One sent me a link to an “automatic flatterer app” that told me “we appreciate you for who you are”. One simply emailed “Hug a lawyer today” (but didn’t include a single o – let alone any x’s – for me). And only one lawyer – one! – told me he put the signs up on his door.
The next day, I telephoned him – that other half of the one per cent who sought kindness – at the community legal centre where he works. Did he receive any kindness?
“None,” he said. “I even ticked every box, but I didn’t get so much as a wan smile or a thimble of tea.”
But, he said, another lawyer in his office admired the “Lawyers are people too” sign so much that she took custody of it. I’m told it remains on display on her office door – though someone has scrawled on it, so now it reads: “Some lawyers are people too”.
I guess only some lawyers – the ones in the community sector – are allowed to be.