Yes, once again, not surprisingly, legal education is being criticized. Certainly I have contributed more than a few barbs, in pieces such as "So What's the Problem with the Problem Method?", "Bar Exam Pass Rates, Legal Education, and a Plea for More Law School Clinics", "Beer, Softball, 4-Day Weekends: Is This Any Way to Learn Law?", "The Law School Curriculum: Ready for a Change?", "So What Do You Buy When You Pay Tuition?", and "Law Schools: Preparing Students for Practice?". It would appear that there's not much to be added. But appearances can be deceiving.
Despite being convinced of the need for serious reform of the legal academy, for the reasons I share in "Want to Be a Lawyer? Just Say That You Are!",I have not been persuaded that law school and the bar examination should be tossed aside. The proposal to open up alternatives to law school reflected a response to the growing emphasis at most law schools on faculty scholarship, a trend that fuels my commitment to persuade law schools to hire those difficult-to-find faculty who can produce useful publications while bringing law practice into the classroom.
What got my attention was the response [subscription site] to Stacher's op-ed piece that was penned by two Boston University law professors, Tamar Frankel and Wendy J. Gordon. Objecting to practice-oriented legal education, they argue, "Legal education may need revamping, especially as our economy and technology develop, but going back to an 18th century apprenticeship model is not the solution. We teach future professionals, not tradesmen." After correctly pointing out that law schools do offer clinical courses, trial practice courses, and writing courses, Frankel and Gordon claim, "But the best practice will come after law school, with maturity, with watching the senior partners and with learning from mentors."
And that, folks, is the scary part. What Frankel and Gordon are suggesting is a continuation of the decades-long habit that sees law school graduates getting paid to observe, to do research applying first-year legal research skills, to do tasks that paralegal can handle, and even to do secretarial work. That arrangement, made possible by charging clients for the time invested by what can best be called trainees, no longer works well and is breaking down even as some in the legal academy hinge their arguments on it. Why is it breaking down? Clients have become smart. They do not want to pay the apprentice to watch and observe. Similar fee pressures make it more difficult for established associated and long-time partners to invest time in mentoring. Law firms cannot charge clients for the hours of conversation between mentor and trainee.
Yes, it is true that starting salaries at the elite law firms are sky-rocketing. The elite law firms get to hire the best graduates from the best law schools. These are students who have the ability to extract from their legal education and from their experience every bit of useful understanding that they can squeeze from the combination of what the faculty offer and what these usually self-starting individuals dig up for themselves. To the chagrin of my best students, I tell them that I don't try to teach the A students, because they're quite capable of teaching themselves. Others have more need of my guidance.
The pressure on those graduates lucky or unlucky enough, depending on one's perspective, to receive and accept an offer from a top-line high-paying law firm is enormous. If the salary is $165,000, these new employees must generate something on the order of $400,000 or more in legal fees. Is the work that they do truly worth $200 or more per hour? The clients will let us know.
But what happens to the other law school graduates? Some end up as judicial clerks, where they do have a magnificent opportunity to be mentored. Speaking from experience, nothing can substitute for a year or two (or two and a half in my case) of one-on-one examination of the law and legal analysis. But most law graduates do not have the opportunity to bridge the gap between law school and law practice in this manner. Many are tossed into law offices overloaded with work, public defenders' offices and prosecutors' departments operating at full steam almost twenty-four seven. They are, in many ways, dropped into the deep end of the pool and told to swim, no lifeguard on duty, thank you very much. Somehow the idea that the law practice world will step in and make up for the deficiencies of legal education is a bit too much to accept as appropriate or even honest.
Defenders of what legal education has become and is becoming insist that law school is not and should not be "trade school," much in the manner argued by Frankel and Gordon. Of course law school is not trade school. It is not a place where students, other than those in clinical courses, learn which document is filed with a particular county office, or as I heard during my student days, "how to find your way to the court house." That's not what advocates of practice-focused legal education want.
Law practice involves problem solving and problem prevention, on behalf of clients. To that end all legal education should be pointed. Problem solving and problem prevention requires problem recognition, and there is a place in law school for the emphasis that currently is placed on issue spotting. Problem solving often requires creative thinking or development of new public policy, and there is a place in law school for a bit of the public policy analysis and legal philosophy focus that is beginning to swamp the curriculum. When upperclass students tell me that I'm the only member of the faculty that reminds them to think about the client and to try to think as does the client before fashioning a response to the client, I shudder. Ought not an understanding of client psychology have a place in helping students learn what considerations shape the legal analysis they share with clients and how they package that analysis?
Teaching law in the abstract is something that is far too prevalent in America's law schools. Teaching law in the abstract fails to open the eyes of law students to the practical realities that shape the law when theory meets practice. The common defense, exemplified by Frankel and Gordon, that law schools offer clinical courses and trial practice experiences, is a canard. For many law faculty, clinics are a necessary distraction, and remnants of what was at one time open hostility to clinics and those teaching them still hover over many schools. Trial practice courses are fine, but most law graduates don't litigate cases. Certainly few, if any, litigate as soon as they enter practice, and many lawyers never enter a courtroom as a litigator during their entire professional careers.
Law schools do not need more courses. Goodness, the array of courses in the law school curriculum is overwhelming. During the past decade, all sorts of courses reflecting the scholarly interests of law faculty have been added because they are interesting, provocative, and often necessary to attract the "scholar who will assist in out-Harvarding Harvard in the U.S. News marathon" game.
What's needed is a change in the structure of the traditional doctrinal courses. It's not enough to learn that the law requires one thing or another. It's important to consider whether the parties will act in accordance with it, to understand what the options are when the theoretically correct legal answer does not match the actions of the client or some other person, and to appreciate how one's approach to the matter can influence how the client deals with the matter. It is more important to understand how the law came to be the way it is than it is to advocate some law reform that has little if any chance of seeing the light of day in a committee let alone a court or legislature. Professional responsibility issues need to be incorporated into substantive courses and not stashed in the corner in a separate course, because in practice those issues do not arise in a vacuum. Some of my students bristle when I raise professional responsibility questions in my tax and decedents' courses, because "that stuff is in another course." Well, it ought not be. The same problem exists with respect to digital technology. Most law faculty continue to omit discussion of cutting edge legal issues arising from the existence of legal technology, perhaps because they don't understand it and don't have the time to learn about it because they're under pressure to crank out ten more articles for tenure. It's only in my decedents' course, my students tell me, that they are challenged to consider the legal issues arising from the use of digital signatures on wills, revocation of digital documents, and the issues arising from the disposition of the decedents' email and email accounts. To put it bluntly, law faculty need to prepare students for practice in the twenty-first century.
There are an assortment of comments in the Money Law Blog posting on the Frankel and Gordon reaction to the Stracher op-ed. Take a look. You'll even find a short one from me:
It has to do with truth in advertising. There's something wrong with schools of law ending up as schools of (legal) philosophy, advanced political science and similar elements of the S.J.D. degree. My determination to speak out against the ongoing shift in legal education was triggered by a colleague's comment 15 years ago, "We aren't here to train lawyers, we're here to teach legal philosophers." Sorry, but legal philosophers is far, far down the list of what this nation needs from its educational system.As much as I like my comment, I will also quote Bill Henderson, because he says it so elegantly: "It is time the legal academy began to focus on the problems and trends are affecting the legal profession today rather than an exclusive focus on the legal issues or scholarly debates that engage law faculty. If we do this, I am confident how and what we teach would change."
Law schools are on notice. It's time they turned their attention from defending the status quo to making a transformation that repairs the connection between legal education and law practice. It's time to reject the monopoly of theory in the same manner that monopoly of practice - the so-called trade school approach - has been consistently rejected. It's time for legal education to be rescued by the lawyers.