Even lawyers get blue
A few years ago, chronic anxiety over his work as an attorney sent Dan Lukasik skidding into a clinical depression. After fighting his way back to mental health, he suspected that many of his colleagues were also suffering. So he decided to go public by posting a Web site to help depressed lawyers.
Many warned against it. One attorney ranted to one of Mr. Lukasik's law partners, "What is he, nuts?" Mr. Lukasik says. A friend predicted clients would fire him. Last June, the Buffalo, New York, attorney posted his site anyway, and he started a support group.
None of his clients fired him; instead, he gained a few new ones. His support group quickly drew 25 attorneys, he says, some of whom wept with gratitude that he had ended their isolation. Quality of life for lawyers, he says, "is a huge raw nerve."
That lawyers are among the most miserable of men — and women — is well-known. Some 19 percent of lawyers suffer depression at any given time, compared with 6.7 percent of the population as a whole, says the University of Arizona's Connie Beck, a leading researcher on the subject; one in five lawyers is a problem drinker, twice the national rate. Escalating billable-hours quotas fuel chronic overload, and the ceaseless deadlines and adversarial nature of the work feed anxiety. Some 19 percent of associate attorneys quit law firms every year, research shows.
For decades, watching the legal profession's response to these work-life problems has been a little like watching paint dry. Of late, though, signs of change are surfacing, bearing lessons for us all in allaying isolation, easing overload and making career choices with care.
More attorneys, for example, are breaking taboos against talking about mental-health problems. As Martha Dickie prepared to run for president of the State Bar of Texas three years ago, she was devastated by the suicide of a close friend, a prominent judge. She'd had no idea he was even depressed, she says.
As bar president, Ms. Dickie led the creation of a video featuring monologues by attorneys on mental illness and substance abuse. The video encouraged others to reach out to the bar's lawyer-assistance arm; help requests rose 15 percent in the past year. Many other bar associations are expanding programs to aid lawyers with depression and burnout.
In addition, a few firms are acknowledging that the profession's overemphasis on face time harms quality of life. The American Bar Association itself has criticised the billable-hours system — which rewards lawyers for working ever-longer hours regardless of the outcome — as "corrosive."
Some firms are turning to other billing methods. Among them is Bartlit Beck Herman Palenchar & Scott, Chicago, where associates are "happy not to be trying to prove themselves by how late they can stay in the office," says managing partner Sidney Herman; his turnover is half the national average.
Finally, some legal educators are beginning to see poor career choices as a root cause of work-life distress. Two-thirds of 1,500 Oregon attorneys surveyed by the Oregon Attorney Assistance Program said they'd had no exposure before law school to the day-to-day life of a lawyer; if allowed to start over, 30 percent said they'd choose a different field.
To support career adjustments, the University of Iowa law school last year dispatched a roving associate dean, Steve Langerud, to meet with alumni; he has counseled more than 100 so far on such questions as, "Is this the right field for me?" he says.
Oklahoma City University's law school runs programs to help students weigh their options carefully. One speaker, James Webb, a successful trial lawyer, tells how some of the strengths that led him into the law — his drive to succeed, to win battles — also made him vulnerable to depression. A few years ago he almost committed suicide.
Noting that no one discussed mental health when he was in law school, Mr. Webb, now 40 and doing well, says he sometimes has to force himself to speak up. But he does so, he says, on the belief that "it's never going to get better until we start talking about it."
The Wall Street Journal