Your World Frightens And Confuses Me

I'm a great fan of Keyrock, the Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer, played by the late, great Phil Hartman in several sketches on Saturday Night Live.  As I grow older in this profession, I come more and more to think, if not to say as he did:  "Your world frightens and confuses me."

Though I'm not an unfrozen caveman, I am an old lawyer, and am feeling my years.  I expect to retire next year.  When I began practicing, carbon paper was still in use.  Electronic typewriters with limited memory were available, but no word processors, and no computers.  Fax machines made an appearance after a time, but used thermal paper, which curled annoyingly.  There were no cell phones and certainly no smart phones.  Car phones were available, but were costly and cumbersome.  Research was done using books.

The practice of law changed with the technology, and while I have a working knowledge of what is essential to practice in these times, there's much I'm unaware of for the simple reason that there's been no need to encounter it--yet.  But those who are young in the law can do much I cannot do, and know much I haven't convinced myself that it's useful for me to know about the practice, and about the world.

That world frightens and confuses me.  So, in some ways, does the practice of law.  But the world is far more frightening to me than the changing, and changed, practice.  

Each year since 1996 I've attended a two day seminar in an area of law I've made something of a specialty of over the years.  This year it served to remind me of my age more than it served to educate me of anything else.  It did so by the youth of its attendees, but also by the subject matter of its presentations.  I had no idea that there are groups of people who carry cameras and microphones into city and town halls and courthouses for the purpose of filming and haruanging those trying to work there, hoping that they may find them so annoying as to engage with them.  When they do, they post the hapless and usually harmless people to YouTube.  The more obnoxious they are the more they are able to obtain clips which show those filmed in a bad light and which provide them with the opportunity to pontificate.

These folk are apparently called, for reasons unclear to me, "First Amendment Auditors."  Their antics may be dealt with easily enough with some training and signage, fortunately, but those ignorant of them (as I was until recently) will be annoyed and befuddled needlessly.   Some of them are actually paid for their sad displays, likely through advertisers who hope to influence their viewers.  It's astonishing--and frightening and confusing to me--what people will pay for in this bizarre new world.

Another presentation dealt with AI and the practice of law.  AI may be used to prepare memoranda of law which will adequately describe, in a general way, information on particular legal topics.  If care is not taken to review the product, though, the results can be devastating for counsel and clients.  A horror story was told of an experienced lawyer who presented a brief to a court, filled with argument and citations to case law.  The lawyer who filed it didn't bother to check the citations, but opposing counsel did and found that the cases referred to were fabricated by the AI.  It made up cases, apparently taking names which it found in the vast reaches of the Web which seemed related to the subject matter of the case.  The case involved airline liability, so the cases generated included names of defendants which included the word "airlines" thus seeming to be airline companies.  The lawyer was sanctioned by the court.  What befell the client wasn't mentioned.

I'll depart from the practice of law relatively soon, but when I'll depart this world is unclear and can't be determined.  Until I do, I'm in a world that seems designed to frighten and confuse.

As that world is more and more one generated by computers,  I'm reminded of a description of the product or data produced by computers I've heard--"garbage in, garbage out."   Bad data downloaded, means bad product.  I see no limits on the garbage entered, or the resulting garbage.  Do we live in a "World of Shit" (Full Metal Jacket reference)?  Where no effort is required, no discipline is needed.

What nobody seems to have considered thoroughly, it seems to me, are the characteristics of those who enter data into the system and those who view the results.  There is a demand for garbage, and an endless supply of it.  Welcome to the new world.

Souls for Hire

Elvis Costello composed, and sang, a rather caustic song about the profession I've devoted the majority (I won't say the "best part") of my life to--that of the law.  It bears the same title as this post.  I've thought it a bit too nasty, but wonder now if it isn't quite nasty enough.

The practice of law can be addictive, in a sense.  It requires a kind of critical intelligence, and the application of the intellect has its attractions.  When that application is successful it satisfies something like a craving.  The practice of law can even be admirable, when the stakes and the principles involved are high.  

I don't intend to pontificate regarding the fact that the law and the results of its application can be unjust.  I've long believed the law and morality are distinct and different, and that equating them results only in confusion and the imposition of some values over another, for no better reason than that those values are those held by those making, or applying, the law.

But using the practice of law as a vehicle to avoid or corrupt the law's clear meaning and intent is tantamount to a betrayal of the profession and of the law itself.  The rule of law must be honored if there is to be any law, properly speaking.  There are few more despicable than those who are traitors, and traitors are those who betray that by which they benefit; that which makes them what they are.  

The clearly meritless efforts of those who have sought to overturn the results of the recent presidential election through the courts can only be described as what Elvis Costello referred to in his song as "whoring in the practice of the law."  Those efforts are otherwise inexplicable.  Even lawyers of the most limited comprehension and ability would recognize that the theories which have been propounded in support of those efforts are no more than the legal equivalent of passing gas.  They smell; they reek of stupidity.  They're so obviously insufficient in court that it cannot be maintained that they're brought it good faith, because if that were the case the lawyers propounding them could only be gibbering, drooling idiots or perhaps lunatics.  I'll assume that they're neither one or the other, in which case they're merely malicious and will be as outrageous as anyone would like provided they're well paid for their efforts to satisfy their customers.

I won't defend the virtue of the practice of law, though I'm a lawyer myself and have been one for many years.  Virtue isn't a characteristic of the law or its practice.  Only a person can be virtuous.  But it's nonetheless quite possible for a lawyer to be virtuous, even when practicing law.  It requires only a sense of honor and of the sanctity, so to speak, of the rule of law.  It means that a lawyer won't knowingly seek to undermine that which is clearly legal through the legal system itself.

Because the law recognizes the right of all to a defense in criminal matters, and that this right can only be preserved through competent representation, defendants are represented even when it appears likely they committed a crime.  That's part of the rule of law in this country.  But it's another thing entirely to represent someone or thing in an effort to subvert the law itself.  For a lawyer to represent a client in that case, for a fee, is to sell his/her legal soul.

 

Goin' Courtin

There are nine Justices of the Supreme Court of our Glorious Union, not seven as there are brides and brothers in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, a genial if odd musical which includes a song the title of which serves as the title to this post.  It's hard for me not to feel some fondness for a musical which includes a song and dance about "The Sobbin' Women" even if it serves as a reminder that rape is what's being portrayed as something charming for our entertainment.

But this post, alas, isn't a tribute to that strange product of the American imagination.  Instead it is not a tribute to what's taking place now, during a very strange election--the strange appointment of someone to the highest court of the land.

These shows (and they have been shows for quite some time now) are not entertainments, though they seem to entertain some.  They're more shows in the sense that show trials are trials.  All know the outcome, so what becomes of significance is the quality or lack of quality of the performances of those called upon to play the parts assigned.  Those opposing the appointment are limited to strenuously displaying their disapproval and the reasons for it.  Those supporting the appointment are required to justify their support, enthusiastically.

Certain things are expected of the nominee.  Answers to questions are to be vague, particularly when it comes to matters of importance, when answers are given.  Answers are to be avoided if possible.  The actual opinions of the nominee on certain issues are not to be sought.  One can't ask questions directed to religious beliefs, sexual preferences, or politics for example.  Nothing of importance is subject to inquiry, except perhaps professional qualifications, which it seems concern nobody.  One can note certain things about the nominee, and make inferences about them.  Rarely is there more involved in the process, unless there is a direct accusation of some misconduct, in which case the show becomes even more of a show as the performances take on a melodramatic character.

Where professional qualifications are concerned, it appears the current nominee is well suited to be what she has been for the most part--a professor.  She didn't practice law much at all.  She's been a federal appeals judge for three years.  I argued before the 7th Circuit in 2018, and for all I know she may have been on the panel hearing arguments that day.  I can't recall.  She clerked for judges.

My personal feeling is that a judge of an appellate court, and so a Supreme Court Justice, benefit immensely from having been a practicing lawyer, or a judge, for quite some time.  They should have some sense of what actually takes place in a courtroom, and what's involved in representing clients in civil or criminal practice.  They should have observed what the law and what courts do to actual people, what it's like to be a part of the legal system and to encounter it.

Ambrose Bierce described litigation as a machine which you enter as a pig and leave as a sausage.  It's something that should be experienced by those who sit in judgment of litigants and lower courts if they are to have any grasp of the law as it functions, not merely as an abstraction--in practice, not merely in theory.

There can be no question where her sympathies lie.  It would be naive not to expect her personal preferences on great issues to influence her decisions.  The only hope is that in her case and in others there is such a respect for the law that personal preferences will be restrained to the extent that what is the law won't be confused with what is believed should be the case.  The law is the law, not morality, not religion, not politics, not ideology.  If what I read of her religious preference (you know, like sexual preference) is accurate, and she identifies (I can't stop myself, it seems) as a charismatic, pentecostal Christian, it can be hoped that she'll seek inspiration when it comes to decisions of the court from the law rather than anything else.

The world we live in, though, doesn't encourage optimism in this respect.  It doesn't encourage optimism in general, in fact, as it encourages thoughtlessness and quick, emotional responses to any problem.

 

The Flaunting of Corruption

Ambrose Bierce, a remarkable man, has been mentioned by me before in the blog.  Soldier of the Union in the Civil War, journalist, author, wit (though a bitter wit; hence his nickname "Bitter Bierce").  He vanished after leaving our Glorious Republic for Mexico in, I believe, 1917.  We don't know his fate.  Before disappearing, he said and wrote many things which I think astute.  You can read one of them, above.

From out of the past, a quote which seems utterly appropriate to the present.  But what was sardonic humor then is now a statement which can fairly be called "unimpeachable" (pardon the pun), meaning not to be doubted, entirely trustworthy.

That the statement is true has been demonstrated in the (un)impeachment proceedings in the Senate of our Great Nation.  Not only has it been demonstrated, however.  It has been expressly stated by Republicans and their lawyers, who have claimed repeatedly that politics is indeed the conduct of public affairs for the benefit of a particular individual, in this case the president.  Therefore, there is nothing wrong with it, or at least nothing impeachable about it.  Most significantly, it constitutes a defense against all claims of corruption or abuse of power, as far as these worthies are concerned.

There is something odd about the claim that the authors of the Constitution did not mean impeachment was appropriate in the case of abuse of presidential power for the president's own benefit.  How likely is it that the drafters of the Constitution believed that a president could be impeached only if guilty of a crime?  Were they concerned that the president would rob a bank, kidnap someone, murder someone, vandalize something, beat his wife?  No doubt such crimes would result in impeachment by any reasonably sane members of the Congress, but is this what they feared?  It strikes me that what they feared was that the president would abuse his power in some fashion; he would use the powers of his office to commit wrongdoings.  That, after all, is what their concern ultimately was in establishing a nation--the use and misuse of the power of government.

That there are lawyers who would gladly make the argument that impeachment cannot be based on abuse of power reminds me of why the profession I chose is held in low esteem.  To an extent, a lawyer is required to make the argument his client wants him to make, so it may be said that these particular legal practitioners are just doing their job.  But a lawyer generally is not required to represent anyone, and it is terribly short-sighted to take the position that in effect sanctions the presidential use of power for his/her own benefit.  Sometimes a fee shouldn't be a lawyer's only concern.

If our politicians have accepted that they may conduct public affairs for their own benefit, and are eagerly seeking to convince us that is the case, as seems quite clear, it appears that our system of government has been perverted.  But it also appears that our politicians know this and are content with it.  Perhaps they relish it.  They certainly seem to be flaunting this corrupt conclusion.

Perhaps the president should be credited with realizing the depth to which our government has sunk.  Being what he is, he is simply taking advantage of it.

Being what we seemingly are, we don't particularly care that he does so, or that many of our political leaders want only to be of assistance to him.

Justice and the Law

I'm an admirer of Patrick O'Brian's great series of historical novels set during the time of the Napoleonic wars, featuring as their heroes Captain Jack Aubrey and Dr. Stephen Maturin, members of the Royal Navy.  One of the novels caused me some pain when I read it, due to its depiction of lawyers, judges and the law.  Fans will know I refer to The Reverse of the Medal, in which Aubrey is treated very poorly by the legal system of the time due to the machinations of his various enemies.  I refer specifically to that portion of the novel in which the sophisticated Maturin tries to convince his not very sophisticated friend that he should not expect a just outcome, given the nature of the system and those who are a part of it.

Readers, if not fans, of this blog know that I'm a lawyer and have been one for a long time.  It's not easy for even a jaded practitioner like me to watch, as it were, as the beloved characters in a beloved series of novels by a beloved author excoriate the profession in which I've labored for most of my life.  I don't think an author necessarily believes what his/her characters seem to believe or say they believe, even when those beliefs are stated so definitively, but can't help but feel a bit downcast when I read, and sadly re-read, that passage of the book.

Lawyers and judges are condemned by Maturin for being devoted to the law uber alles, so to speak.  Edward Gibbon is cited as someone who shares this view, and a anecdote involving the great historian is also cited.  Gibbon supposedly challenged a lawyer to acknowledge his client was guilty, only to be told by the lawyer that he could not know whether that was the case until the judge determined his client's guilt.  Gibbon thought this to be a "miserable" example of sophistry, or used words to that effect.  As I interpret the passage, it criticizes lawyers as disregarding justice and morality, and substituting the law in their place.  Thus lawyers do not care about what is right or what is wrong, and do not strive to achieve what is right instead of what is wrong.

It strikes me, however, that it is Gibbon and others who think like him who make a fundamental error in judgment, not lawyers.  Lawyers understand that the law is not what is just, or right, or moral.  Those who criticize the law for being unjust don't understand what the law is, and foolishly--naively--believe that it is what it is not.  But, nonetheless, the law is the law.

To address Gibbon's example:  "Guilt" in the law is not necessarily "guilt" as commonly understood.  In the American system, someone is guilty of a crime if that guilt is established beyond a reasonable doubt.  It happens that those who commit a crime sometimes can't or aren't shown to be guilty of that crime because, for various reasons, proof beyond a reasonable doubt isn't shown, or the jury believes it hasn't been established.  So it's quite correct to say that one doesn't know whether a defendant is guilty in the law until found to be guilty, even if it's true that they did something wrong and committed a crime.

Happily, I don't practice criminal law.  I don't doubt, though, that defense attorneys sometimes know that their clients committed a crime.  Because a lawyer would know that it's quite possible that someone who commits a crime may be acquitted (even if the glove does fit) a lawyer may decline to represent a defendant because he/she feels it would be wrong to do so.  Or they may choose to do so regardless because in our system all are entitled to a defense, and to be treated as innocent until proven guilty.

That, good or bad, is the law.  One might say that the law is what it is for good, sound policy reasons; that it is preferable that such a strong burden of proof is imposed on the state so that it is difficult to prove someone committed a crime even when they did, as the innocent are thereby protected.  One might say otherwise.  Then one is making a judgment about the law, whether it is good or bad.  But one isn't saying that the law defines what is good or bad, or should do so.  That's a critical error.

I think one of the first duties of a lawyer who litigates, who represents a client in the court system, is to explain to a client that what is just, what is right, may result but need not result in a courtroom.   O. W. Holmes is said to have spoken these words to a young lawyer who appeared before him in court:  "This is a court of law, young man, not a court of justice."  The judge could not have given sounder advise to a novice lawyer.

The law is a vast system developed over time to regulate our affairs.  It may sometimes be consistent with morality, it may sometimes be perverted by it or by a particular view of it, as in the case of Prohibition.  But it's not intended to be a system of morality, and we don't respect it for being such a system.  We respect it because it's the law, and it would be foolish to ignore it.

Lawyers and judges are a part of the system.  They know how it works.  They fulfill a particular purpose, and have a particular function.  They may perform that function well or poorly, they may practice morally or may not.  They may be condemned for being immoral, certainly, but only those who confuse morality and the law will maintain that they act immorally by practicing law, and should not do so unless they wish to claim that the entire system of law is immoral, and are prepared to defend that claim.  

I suspect that most won't make that claim, or if they make it won't be able to defend it.  

The Supreme Being and Revolution

In 1794, during the excesses of the French Revolution, the National Convention established by Decree what has since been called The Cult of the Supreme Being.  It seems to have been created entirely by Maximilien Robespierre, called "the incorruptible."

It was one of those cults that last as long as their leader, although it wasn't formally outlawed until Napoleon outlawed it and other cults in 1802, except, it may be said, the cult of Napoleon himself (but note the small "c"; Napoleon never considered himself God, or even a god).  Napoleon had reached an agreement with the Catholic Church, which The Cult of the Supreme Being and presumably other outlawed cults had sought to replace.

The Catholic Church had to be replaced by something, evidently.  Or so thought Robespierre, and it seems other leaders of the Revolution.  For some it was to be replaced by what was called The Cult of Reason.  That cult didn't have much in the way of a divinity, and didn't hold with the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, however, and was considered a kind of atheism.  Robespierre thought a divinity and belief in an immortal soul appropriate and even necessary for morality and social order, and it seems he even believed in a Supreme Being, though one consistent with the Enlightenment, not with the Church.

Thus The Cult of the Supreme Being envisioned, unsurprisingly, a Supreme Being; one which created the universe and set it on its way to operate according to natural laws, discernible by the use of reason.  Those natural laws formed the basis for morality, and their application resulted in a virtuous life, virtuous people and a virtuous nation, which would be a republic.

The Cult of the Supreme Being became the declared religion of France, for a brief time.  And so as shown in the image above the French people, or at least the National Convention speaking as the French people, asserted belief in the Supreme Being and the immortality of the soul.

Having become the national religion it was thought only appropriate, by Robespierre and likely others, that it be celebrated in some fashion.  Therefore, a Festival of the Supreme Being was held in June, 1794.  The artist David was put in charge, and the festival was, according to contemporary accounts, neatly and precisely choreographed.  It featured a statute of Atheism which was duly burned, a mountain constructed of mostly paper-mache, and a pillar on which a statute of Hercules was placed, atop the mountain.

Robespierre and other notables then climbed the mountain, and Robespierre himself gave a speech from its summit.  There was singing, and people marched about the mountain.  Accounts indicate that the festival was popular.  But Robespierre was criticized for making it appear he was the messenger of the Supreme Being, if not a god himself.  I wonder whether the comparison with Moses on Mount Sinai was made.

Like the Enlightenment, The Cult of the Supreme Being looked back to ancient Greece and Rome for inspiration, and its principles seem consistent with the pagan philosophies of the ancients, even with Stoicism to a degree.  In itself, this cult seems noble, and certainly harmless.  Just what appeal it would have for most people of the time is unclear, though.

1794 was a busy year for Robespierre.  He created a religion.   Then, contrary to it, he inaugurated the Reign of Terror.  Then he was executed by his opponents, who had by that time had quite enough of Robespierre, the Terror and perhaps the Supreme Being as well.  He had his encounter with the guillotine like so many others, many of them his own victims.  But it was a time of extraordinary violence, if what we read is true, and the guillotine may have presented a merciful manner of death in comparison to those inflicted by the mobs which arose, or were summoned.

It's interesting that lawyers were so involved in the French and American Revolutions.  Robespierre was one, so was Danton, so were many others.  Lawyers made up the majority of the National Assembly and its successor, the National Convention. In the French Revolution I suspect that lawyers played a leading role in part at least because they were orators, and trained in rhetoric.

The lawyers of the French Revolution were very different from those of the American who. together with rich merchants and farmers made up the majority of American revolutionaries.  Compared with the lawyers of the French Revolution, who seemed most successful when whipping up fervor in their fellows and the populace and were themselves often frenzied by what they thought to be the injustices of monarchical France, the lawyers of the American revolution seem at most highly annoyed by the injustices they faced, and their contribution was primarily in creating the founding documents and institutions of a nation.  The lawyers of the American revolution ultimately were, and remained, lawyers.  Those of the French Revolution became something very different.

The French Revolution was the Enlightenment gone mad.  The American Revolution also had its basis in the Enlightenment, but wasn't mad at all.  Was this due to differences in national character or culture, or something else?  It certainly wasn't a result of The Cult of the Supreme Being, or that of Reason.  But the French Revolution serves to remind us that reason may show us that certain things, people, institutions are wrong or undesirable and may even show us what is right, but we're always inclined to dispense with it if we can, especially when outraged.  Or when seeking power.

Mencken on the Law, and Lawyers

I've written now and then regarding the great H.L. Mencken and his work, generally with admiration.  Now and then I'm disappointed with him, though; particularly by his elitism.  There seems little question that he despised democracy, and I'm rather fond of it, for all its faults.  He's certainly not the first intelligent person to loathe that form of government.  To his credit, it seems he was not so naive as to think that other forms were necessarily better than democracy, as were certain others commencing with Plato, the first systematic totalitarian thinker in our history.  But his unabashed contempt for the common herd can be disturbing.

I also found disturbing a little piece he wrote on war, in which he claimed that it was not as bad as some thought as most were not killed and those wounded generally were not wounded seriously enough to cause concern.  To my knowledge he never experienced war, even as a journalist, and by rights should have said nothing regarding what was encountered by those who did.

He wrote about the law and lawyers, as well, and I think his comments about my fellows and my profession are fair enough for the most part.  Indeed, he affected to admire the intelligence and intellectual prowess of lawyers a great deal.  He sat through many trials, and was impressed by the lawyers' ability to learn a great deal about a subject in a very short time, to think quickly, argue persuasively, on various topics.  But he thought that all this talent and ability was necessarily devoted to matters which are, for the most part, trivial.  That is to say that the subject matter of the law is generally insignificant.

I would say that the word "mundane" is a more appropriate word.  There's no question that in most cases the law and lawyers deal with problems that arise due to the interaction of people in the course of ordinary life.  Momentous issues regarding liberty, religion, free speech are addressed as well of course, but this is rare.  Mencken notes that as a result most lawyers are not remembered by history, with some exceptions, and I think this is true.

Perhaps he would have acknowledged that in at least one instance in his lifetime he witnessed the legal system addressing a matter of some significance, in the case of the Scopes trial.  I think he would say that at least one lawyer came out of that looking well, Clarence Darrow, but that others did not.  All of the others.  Perhaps he even felt that Darrow would be remembered.  He is, but it's hard to say for how long he will be, or what Mencken would have thought would be an appropriate period.  I'm certain, however, that he'd be horrified to learn that even today some insist that religion be taught in school in our Great Republic, or "creationism" at least.  No doubt he'd consider this to be verification of his opinion that "[d]emocracy is a pathetic belief in the collective wisdom of individual ignorance."

Intellectuals seem always to be contemptuous of, or at best indifferent to, the mundane.  Perhaps this is why they so often fail to understand or hold the interest of most people.  They underestimate, should they even consider, the role the mundane inevitably plays in shaping our desires and concerns and in establishing what is important to most of us.  This renders them significant and persuasive only to a few, a relatively small group of individuals much like themselves.  Especially in democracies, therefore, they have little influence outside of academia, and are even looked upon as foolish.  Even in their thought they seem to discount ordinary life and so construct theories disconnected from it--castles in the air.

We lawyers do indeed deal in the mundane, as that is what the law concerns.  It relates exclusively to how we live our lives and how others do.  But it seems to me that this doesn't render it uninteresting or insignificant.  For good or ill, it's probably the most significant institution or system devised by humans.  It's all-important, and increasingly regulates our conduct if not our thoughts. 

It's like that most annoying "external world" some philosophers claim we cannot know.  We had better take it into account nonetheless, and pay it careful attention.  We ignore it at our peril.

Lawyers as Shills

I've been practicing law for quite some time now.  I've always been in private practice, generally in firms of 10 or so attorneys, sometimes a bit more, sometimes a bit less.  For a relatively short time, 3-4 years, I worked in a larger firm, with more than 100 attorneys.  I've been around, have seen a great deal; have seen the practice of law alter rather dramatically for various reasons, sometimes for the good and sometimes for the bad.  One of the ways in which I think it's changed for the bad is the emphasis increasingly being made on the lawyer functioning not as a lawyer, but as a shill.

A shill is a promoter, a booster, someone skilled in the art of the sales pitch.  The term can be used derisively and can have somewhat sleazy connotations, but I'm not necessarily saying that a lawyer today is called upon to act as a con man or a carnival barker.  However, especially in the case of large law firms, lawyers are being valued more and more for their ability to market not merely themselves and their firms, but their clients as well.  They are valued less and less for their skill in the practice of law.  They are encouraged to act as shills more than they act as lawyers; not so much practice law as sell, sell and sell.

To a certain extent, of course, this has always been the case.  Rainmakers (as they are called) have always been esteemed because of the clients they attract.  And of course advertisement of legal services, once restricted, is commonplace.  Some of the advertising has been and is less than dignified.

But now large firms are not just trying to attract clients.  They also seek to promote their clients to state governments and the federal government; they lobby, sometimes registering themselves as lobbyists, sometimes not.  They seek to promote clients as businesses in the global market.  They pursue the political aims of their clients and sometimes political parties (Reince Priebus, Chair of the Republican National Committee, practiced in a large firm which regularly represents Republican candidates and elected officials).  They network, identify and target key players, push agendas. 

For me, this is not practicing law.  I find myself wondering why lawyers are doing such things, when it seems anyone with marketing skills would do (likely for much less in the way of remuneration).  I also find myself wondering what effect this has or will have on the quality of legal practitioners.  If the most glamorous, high-paying jobs for attorneys are as shills (not to mention the easiest jobs when it comes to the knowledge of the law and representing clients before courts and agencies) what motivation is there to be a "real lawyer"?

The law has been used as a stepping stone into politics for a long time.  I question whether lawyers make good elected officials.  Lawyers are trained to represent a single client, told to avoid conflicts of interest.  A lawyer representing a number of people with conflicting interests is, I think, ill-equipped to do so.  Lawyers obviously have a place in government, there being so many laws to interpret, apply and draft, but I question whether they should have the place they hold in politics.

Sadly, lawyers already have a poor reputation.  I suspect it will get worse, though, the more they act as and are perceived as nothing more than wheeler dealers.  But it may be that I'm just an old fashioned sort, and am of a dying breed.  No doubt there will always be a need for skilled legal practitioners, but I fear their ranks will grow thinner and thinner.  Perhaps the future will see The Triumph of the Shill.