A new associate stands admiring the shiny brass plaque that has just been installed outside her office, inscribed with her very own name. Deep in reverie, she jumps when someone taps her on the shoulder. She turns to see an older woman—about the Curmudgeon’s age—wearing a black, tailored suit, who has something to say.
The personnel director has just told me I’m going to be your assistant. I’ll be pleased to help, but first I have a few words for you, young whippersnapper. I know that you just graduated from a fancy law school and are oh-so-proud of having snagged a job at this hotshot law firm. But now you’re one of fifty associates in this year’s starting class, and you’ve never played this game before. I’ve seen associates come, and I’ve seen associates go; I’ve been a secretary at this firm for longer than you’ve been alive, and I have some advice for you.
Now I know you’re probably thinking that you’re much smarter than I am. And you’re probably thinking there’s nothing I can tell you that you don’t already know or can’t figure out on your own.
Get over it.
That attitude won’t get you very far. I’ve learned a few things along the way, and I’m willing to share some advice with you.
In fact, I insist. Let’s step into your office.
First of all, even if you won’t admit it, I know that you’re overwhelmed at the prospect of practicing law in this large firm. You’ve never worked in this kind of environment before, and you’ve been given many resources that you don’t know how to use. One of those resources is me: A secretary or an “assistant.” (I still consider myself to be a secretary, but I’ll use the word “assistant” because “secretary” is now viewed as being politically incorrect.)
Admit it: You have no idea what to do with me. You didn’t take classes in law school on managing an assistant; you typed your own memos when you were a summer associate; and no one offers any training classes on how to work effectively with an assistant. Don’t expect any help from the other new lawyers; they don’t know how to work with their assistants either.
In fact, even the senior lawyers can’t help you on this score. There are plenty of seasoned partners who never knew how, or who chose not, to use their assistants effectively.
Here are a few suggestions on how to work with me effectively. By working effectively, I don’t mean expecting me only to answer your telephone, make an occasional photocopy, or mail an occasional letter. Those tasks don’t require much skill—the kid down the block can do them, and for a lot less money than I make. If you really want to make this new career of yours go smoothly, then you have to make me an integral part of your legal practice and let me help you become more efficient.
A good assistant can be an invaluable tool, freeing up your time to actually practice law. And isn’t that what you were hired to do? Practice law? They’re not paying you the big bucks to clear paper jams from the printers.
I doubt that the managing partner types his own briefs and copies his own exhibits; I’m sure it won’t impress him that you do. What will impress him is when you start doing more than your share of productive work, not when you waste time acting as your own assistant. I know that you didn’t major in accounting, but it’s just not cost-effective for lawyers to perform their own administrative duties. That’s why you’ve got me.
For us to become an effective partnership, you need to talk to me. I should tell you that I’ve frightened more than a few bosses by walking into their offices, shutting the door, and telling them that we needed to talk. They stared at me with that “deer caught in the headlights” look on their faces. I never realized oral communication was difficult for lawyers, but I’m not a mind reader and neither are you. I’m going to be working with you eight hours a day, five days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. I need to know what you expect from me; I also want you to know what I expect from you. I’m going to be spending more time with you than I do with my family. And I love my family; I’m not even sure that I’ll like you.
If you want me to act like I’m part of your team, treat me like I’m part of your team. If you treat me like I’m a piece of office equipment, I’ll act accordingly. And given how often office equipment breaks down, that’s not a good idea.
Tell me about your cases; the more I know, the more intelligently I’ll be able to do my job. I may be the exception to the rule, but I actually enjoy hearing about your court appearances, neurotic plaintiffs, and opposing counsel’s latest feeble attempt at practicing law. My professional life exists to help your professional life; involve me in what we’re doing. Besides, I’m a control freak; I like to know what’s going on so that I’m able to answer questions with more than “I don’t know.”
Keep me informed in many ways. For example, in a true client emergency, I should be able to find you. Period. There may be an exception or two that proves that rule, but they are few and far between. Perhaps, if you’re on vacation, out of cell phone range on an African safari, I can settle for finding a lawyer who can pinch hit for you. I’m not even sure about that. A really competent assistant should be able to track you down when you’re on that safari, but in a firm this large, someone else may be able to cover for you in your absence. Generally, clients don’t like to be told to put their emergencies on hold for a week. Clients also won’t remember whether it was you or your assistant who couldn’t help them. They’ll just get angry. Having angry clients is not a good career move.
I should also know where to find you, and whether to interrupt you, when you’re right here in North America. Of course, a good assistant has enough common sense to know what’s important and when to leave you alone. If, for example, you’re on the phone and a judge calls, I should interrupt you so that you can talk to the judge. I should not ask the judge if she’d like to leave a voice mail message.
I’m your professional assistant; don’t expect me to be your personal assistant. You’re not nearly important enough at this firm yet to be entitled to a personal assistant. I wasn’t hired to pick up your dry cleaning or baby-sit your kids. Although I don’t mind getting you lunch when you’re on a conference call, I will almost certainly take offense to running all of your personal errands. I know this might come as a shock to you, but your personal agenda is not real high on my list of priorities. Besides, if we’re working together effectively, I’ll be far too busy with your real work to have time left to organize your personal life.
Once we have each other trained, it will require a little maintenance on your part to keep me happy. If you’ve done your part right, you’ll want to keep me happy. If I’m not happy, I may leave, and you’ll have to go through the whole training ordeal all over again. Once you’ve had about seven or eight assistants, you’ll see what I mean. That’s not to say that you should acquiesce to an assistant’s every demand, but I will expect you to act reasonably.
For instance, when you give me work, make sure you give it to me with enough time to do it. Don’t ruin my personal life because you’re disorganized. If a letter must go out today, give me your handwritten (or typed, but poorly formatted) draft at 10:00 a.m., not at 4:57 p.m., with a request that I miss my bus.
Don’t forget: You’re not the only lawyer I’m working for. I have to juggle everybody’s assignments to get things done. Please let me know as early as possible when a project is coming up (like a big deadline for next week), so I can try to block out some time in advance. It also helps if you can prioritize the work you give me: Is this an “A,” a “B,” or a “C”?
Don’t assume that your personal schedule is more important than mine. I realize that sometimes clients make last-minute demands, and I’m willing to accept that. What I’m not willing to accept is you sauntering into the office at 11:30 a.m. on the day a big brief is due (because you decided to sleep in) and expecting me to work through lunch and stay late (when I’ve been in the office since 8:00 a.m.) to get your brief done. Trust me, I won’t be happy. And if I’m not happy, then you’re going to be even less happy the next time you come sauntering into the office at 11:30 a.m., only to learn that I’m out ill and won’t be in the office at all. I can’t help it—those twenty-four-hour flu bugs are just awful. I get four weeks’ vacation and two weeks’ sick time each year—that covers a lot of twenty-four-hour bugs.
If you want to keep me happy, don’t blame me for your mistakes. I don’t get paid nearly enough to accept blame for something that’s not my fault. The bottom line is that you are the lawyer, you are making the six-figure paycheck, and you have the opportunity for career advancement. My name isn’t on any of those letters, and my name isn’t on any of those briefs. The ultimate responsibility rests with you. I’m good, but I’m still only an assistant.
In particular, I don’t practice law. I’m not supposed to know whether service by Federal Express is effective; don’t ask me. I’m not supposed to know the page limits for briefs in the California Supreme Court; don’t ask me. In fact, if court rules require type in a particular font size or margins set in unusual places, it’s your obligation to tell me. The local rules are not on the Times best-seller list, and it’s not my job to know them.
In law firms like this one, most assistants are pretty darn good, but they’re not all as great as I am. So here’s some advice to make sure the others you work with will make the grade.
Insist that your assistant be responsible. When you assign work, you shouldn’t have to remind your assistant to finish it. And the work shouldn’t sit on your assistant’s desk until you become so annoyed that you either ask someone else to do it or do it yourself. Unless your assistant is extremely busy with another project (and if that’s the case, it’s that person’s responsibility to let you know), your assistant should return your completed work to you as quickly as possible. If you assign a task that requires additional follow-up, your assistant should be responsible for that follow-up. You’ll have plenty to worry about without keeping track of what’s on your assistant’s desk.
You should expect your assistant to be professional in both conduct and appearance. I’ve found that assistants are taken much more seriously if we act and dress the part. Assistants frequently greet clients in person and on the phone, so it’s important to act and dress appropriately. I realize clothing style is subjective, and your assistant’s style of dress may be different from yours, but you should never be embarrassed by what he or she is wearing. Although I’m not a polo shirt and khakis kind of person, that attire is perfectly suitable for casual Fridays. What’s not suitable, however, for any day of the week, are jeans, tennis shoes, miniskirts, and halter tops, to name just a few. There are certain body parts that should not be seen in the office. Unfortunately, I’ve seen most of them.
Be aware of what your assistant is doing. Some are very good at hiding the fact that they’re doing nothing. If you consistently see your assistant shopping on the Internet, chatting on the phone, or sleeping, you have a serious problem. You need to find work for your assistant to do, and you need to find it quickly. You don’t want your assistant to be bored or to start resenting you when you interrupt a lively game of solitaire. If you can develop complex legal strategies, then you can come up with worthwhile projects to keep your assistant busy. After all, assistants are paid to work; we’re not getting paid to play computer games.
Give your assistant additional and more challenging responsibilities over time. Assistants don’t have law degrees, but we’re not stupid. Most of us are probably capable of handling any administrative matter or nonlawyer task that you’d like to get off your desk. We can surely compose routine transmittal letters, maintain lists of cases and contact numbers, and organize your files. Many of us can probably do basic searches of the web, and some of us may well be able to cite-check briefs and assemble briefing binders to help you prepare for oral arguments. At first, you’ll need to explain those projects completely and be available for any questions that your assistant may have. And we should have questions, if you’re giving us new and harder work. Don’t be annoyed when an assistant asks you a question. It’ll take less time for you to answer a five-minute question than it will for you to fix something after it’s been screwed up out of ignorance.
Don’t take “no” or “I don’t know how to do that” for an answer. Learning new things is not an option; it is part of the assistant’s job. If we don’t know how to do something, we should find out how to do it. And we should be willing to do so relatively cheerfully. We assistants may not all be Little Mary Sunshine, but most of us are reasonably agreeable. I’ve actually seen associates (and even some partners) cower when their assistants glare at them. There are fine lines between being assertive enough to expect assistants to do our job, being so pushy that we’ll start plotting your demise, and being such a wimp that we’ll have no respect for you at all. The bottom line is that you’re the boss. Remember that, and act like it.
Be tough at first. Proofread everything repeatedly, and don’t let your assistant get away with any careless errors. Eventually, it will become clear that you’re a compulsive nutcase who insists on perfection, and your assistant will make sure everything’s right. In fact, he or she will probably turn into a compulsive nutcase too. Eureka! That’s just what you want.
That’s certainly what happened to me. Over the years, I’ve probably developed a full-blown case of some sort of obsessive disorder, but therapy is expensive and time-consuming, and my disorder actually helps me to be more efficient. I now proofread everything, and I correct errors and inconsistencies before I give imperfect work back to my perfectionist boss. Once you are confident that your assistant has learned to do things right, you can begin to trust that person’s work.
Then you can let up. And please do. The time will come when your assistant will be able to figure things out independently or know enough to ask questions. At some point in your relationship, you’ll no longer need to go into excruciating detail about every mundane task you assign.
If problems arise, be honest and tell your assistant about them. Don’t wait for a year-end evaluation to reveal that it bothers you that your assistant doesn’t put draft lines on briefs. He or she will wonder why you waited so long and doubt whether you’re really as smart at that law degree says you are. Let your assistant know your preferences and the areas in which you want to see improvement. Don’t make it a guessing game.
On the other hand, don’t ever criticize or deride your assistant in front of other staff members, lawyers, or clients. If you need to discuss a problem with behavior, attitude, or job performance, have the courtesy to do so behind closed doors. Most assistants can tolerate constructive criticism from you, as long as it’s done in a positive way. Reprimand us or berate us in front of others, however, and we can turn, well, curmudgeonly.
Sometimes, despite your best efforts, you end up with an assistant who is worthless. You’ll probably realize that sooner rather than later. Be honest, but not malicious, on your first evaluation. There’s no reason to make others (and yourself) suffer because your assistant is inept. The longer you tolerate substandard behavior, the harder it will be to correct the problem.
That’s the criticism side of the coin. Don’t forget the flip side: Give us assistants credit where credit is due. You don’t have to thank me for every little phone message I bring into your office; that becomes meaningless after a while. But when I finish a project that is particularly noteworthy, let me know if I did a good job. If you recognize when I’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty, I’m likely to do so again in the future. If you don’t recognize my extra effort, then don’t expect extra effort in the future. I get the same paycheck every month regardless of the effort I’ve put in.
I’m glad we had this chance to talk. As your new assistant, I can make your life easier or I can make your life miserable. I have a feeling that you understand your choice.