Ross Kodner coined the term “BigSolo” recently (and apparently stirred up some controversy which I don’t really understand or care about). “BigSolo” means big-firm lawyers who go out on their own and open a solo practice. I don’t think we get much of that in family law since most big law firms don’t do much family law.
Ross, in his article on the topic, warned BigSolos about having to play multiple roles in the management of the firm. He said you have to be “a
* Rainmaker
* Firm Administrator
* Office Supply Manager
* HR Manager
* Facilities and Leasehold Manager
* Public Relations and Marketing department
* Webmaster/Blawgmaster/Twitterer
* CLE Compliance Administrator
* IT Manager or IT Liaison with Outside IT Personnel.
Oh yes, and one more, if in fact there’s time:
*Lawyer.”
I agree, and that may not be very appealing to folks coming from a big firm where they’re used to someone else taking responsibility for those duties. The same can be said for “MediumSolos” and “SmallSolos”. Wearing all those hats will wear you out.
Being a solo isn’t for everybody. It’s tough. I get the sense that many lawyers, having never been solos, romanticize the idea of being in control of their schedules, earning all the money and calling all the shots. Solo practice may not, however, live up to that romantic vision.
Lots of lawyers don’t fully appreciate the reality of solo practice until after they’ve given it a try. It’s a lot like the process people go through before having children. They think about it, they discuss and it and they think they understand what it’s going to be like. I thought I knew what I was in for. I didn’t – not even close. You just can’t fully appreciate parenting until you have the baby and you can’t fully appreciate a solo practice until you live it.
Aside from wearing 15 different hats, what else is tough? Well, for starters you have very little control over your time. Clients control your time, opposing counsel controls your time, the courts control your time, and unexpected events with employees control your time. You get to take up the slack. You don’t get to control your time.
Next? Your income is unnervingly vulnerable. Clients fail to pay. Judges don’t always award the attorney fees requested. Clients don’t always come through the door like you might like. Wild swings in income are the norm, not the exception.
What else? You’ll be distracted, constantly, by small problems. You’ll find yourself making decisions about automatic door closers (crazy, I know). You’ll end up running to Best Buy to replace the kitchenette microwave. You’ll meet with the banker about accepting credit cards. Of course someone else could do these things, but it won’t always happen that way. You’ll end up dealing with many things you shouldn’t have to deal with. It’s just the way it is.
Finally, you’ll lose prestige (which isn’t justified in my opinion). Being a solo, in the universe we live and work in, carries less status than being with a larger firm. You’ll meet someone. They’ll ask what you do. You’ll tell them you’re a lawyer and they’ll promptly ask you where your office is and how many lawyers you have in your firm. Why? I don’t know. Again, that’s just the way it is. You’ll have to say “just one” and you’ll get that look – the same look you get from the hostess when you go to the restaurant alone. Maybe, given the recent layoffs in big firms, that “look” won’t stick around much longer.
Being a solo is great and terrible: lots of pluses, lots of minuses. It may well be for you. It wasn’t for me (I survived about six months). The key is thinking through as much of it as you possibly can before you make the leap.
