Creature of Precedent

Stop Racing to be First to be Second

While it is one thing to be a creature of habit, I once was something much worse: a creature of precedent. As a lawyer, I was told from the first day of law school that everything I’d do, every argument I’d make, and every brief I’d file must be based upon something that’s happened before.

My precedent-based thinking didn’t just apply to my legal work, but also to my legal practice. My office, hourly rates, business cards, and even yellow pages ads (gasp!) looked just like those of every other firm in town.

I wouldn’t try something new unless I were certain at least one other person had already done it before. I never wanted to try something new, I only wanted to be first to be second.

And it wasn’t just me. Every time I’d tell my lawyer friends about something I was thinking of doing (like dumping hourly billing for flat fees), they’d slip into “cautious advisor” mode and give me dozens of reasons why it wouldn’t work.

At first, I listened. I assumed people who cared about me didn’t want me to fail. Then this epiphany:

They weren’t afraid of me failing in my business, they were afraid of me changing theirs.

Hugh MacLeod, in his terrific book Ignore Everybody, explains, “The more original your idea is, the less good advice other people will be able to give you.” He continues:

[A] big idea will change you. Your friends may love you, but they may not want you to change. If you change, then their dynamic with you also changes…. With business colleagues it’s even worse. They’re used to dealing with you in a certain way…. If your idea is so good that it changes your dynamic enough to where you need them less or, God forbid, the market needs them less, then they’re going to resist your idea every chance they can.

Fast-forward to today. I’ve embraced my Idea Surplus Disorder, stopped practicing law, founded one of the most talked-about startups of the last year, run a business that draws pictures of hard-to-understand things, and am building a startup that is reinventing meetings.

So what did I do? I stopped asking my current peers about their advice and looked for new ones (and when I couldn’t find them, I shared my ideas anyway and waited for them to find me).

Most of all, I realized that trusting my gut and trying new things was a whole lot more satisfying than listening to others and continuing to do the same thing.

It all started with a blog post twelve years ago and continues today.

If you’re a lawyer like I was, what should you do?

Do something different. Surprise your clients with tremendous service. Dump the billable hour. Offer a guarantee. Just don’t expect your peers to understand why you’re challenging their status quo.

And remember, while the practice of law requires precedents, the business of law does not. Knowing that your competitors aren’t doing what you are isn’t cause for concern, it’s cause for celebration.

Original version published at www.nonbillablehour.com on December 1, 2009.