A snowball fight in the Churchyard

some reflections on stress in the office

I have always been interested in what, boringly, is called personnel management. I don’t like the term and I have never “managed” in the normal sense of the word, but I have tried over the years to make work in a law office as fun as possible for those who must spend their days cranking the handle of the legal system.

Now more than ever there is a greater need than ever for an empathic approach to those you work among, as was brought into sharp focus by the recent death of a partner in a London law firm when she stepped in front of a train. That prompted me to dig out an article I wrote nearly 40 years ago, which looked further back (to the beginning of my 50+ years of life in the law  - a time when open plan, the internet, fax  and mobile phones did not exist, when no offices had computers and telex was the main way of fast written communication - but it was slow). Here is what I wrote in 1985, about the summer of 1972. You can tell it was written some years ago!

A lesson in personnel management from the branch office 1972-1985

'Oh my God, what do we have here?' Maureen did not speak those words. They were written all over her face when, 13 years ago in the summer of 1972, I arrived at the branch office in King’s Lynn, Norfolk, unshaven, dishevelled and wearing dirty jeans. It was a Friday and I was not due to take over running the branch office for another three days.

Maureen would say that I never did take over, but I did arrive the following Monday nervous, newly qualified and (to Maureen’s relief) wearing a suit.

Until that moment Maureen had been the branch office. She was a secretary and the only permanent member of staff. Legal expertise was provided on a rota basis from our main office in Wisbech. I did not really want to be there but I had been lured from my embryonic legal career in London by my father who (just) made it worthwhile for me to leave behind the delights, such as they were, of the city of London. He was the senior partner and I agreed, but only on the condition that he did not interfere but left me to my own devices – a pretty tall order bearing in mind that I had been qualified for less than a year. Nonetheless I did not want anyone to describe me as a “chip off the old block”.  

Until then the day at the branch office was regarded as a relaxing outing, free from the pressure of clients.  But things did not stay that way. First of all, nutters and time-wasters descended eagerly on us with their carrier bags full of documents, glad of a new solicitor to torture with their tormented minds.

Sometime after that, real work started to arrive. Our turn-over is now nearly half of that of the main office.

There are now eleven of us, and we have 278 apple boxes full of old files to show how busy we've been.

It is now difficult for solicitors to make money and is likely to become more so, but about 13 years ago necessity taught me that an office runs very much better if you make friends out of those you work with. By trial and error, we (there are three partners at the branch office now) have together developed various approaches to running the office which have encouraged everyone to give of his or her best.

In a small office it is sensible to call one another by first names. Even when I am 92 and being squeezed out by my junior partners I shall still expect those young enough to be my great grandchildren to call me by my first name. It takes nothing from your dignity or rank and instantly removes a very real barrier.

To the dismay of the local fire department we also have an open-door policy. Everybody (except when seeing clients) works with their doors open. Quite apart from the practical consideration of making it easy to go in and out with cups of tea or piles of letters for signing this encourages everyone to move freely round the office. Because we do not say 'thou shalt sit at thy desk except when visiting the lavatory' we find that there is very little time-wasting - except at coffee time.

Coffee Break

Our coffee break was introduced at our first office premises. I think there were four of us then. The office was behind a building society. It had three rooms, one on each floor. On the top floor was Sue, operating a primitive magnetic card word processor. The machine (which we called Bertha) would have driven Sue up the wall if she was not already at the top of it. She also found that she would go for days at a time without talking to a soul - except Bertha.

Every day at around mid-morning the whole office stops for coffee and 20 minutes of chat. Sometimes we stand in silence. Other times the discussion becomes so animated that clients who make the mistake of telephoning think that they have intruded on an early morning cocktail party.

But it works. Our coffee breaks have solved most of our day-to-day running problems. We make a point when the monthly figures come through of letting everyone know how we are doing. We also talk about things which in other firms would be the strict preserve of the partners' meeting. Everyone is encouraged to get things off their chests. And the best dirty jokes are shared. We know instantly if someone is unhappy - and can take him or her into a quiet corner later, to sort out the problem.

I know of one firm where the partners take their afternoon tea in bone china cups and saucers, but the rest of the staff drink from earthenware mugs. That sort of attitude can only encourage resentment. Either everyone should have bone china or, as in our office, it should be mugs all round.

Benefits

Like all solicitors we do not pay particularly well but we try to make up for it in other ways. We provide the staff with free conveyancing and legal services. We have also sometimes paid for specialist medical treatment when the NHS did not seem to be delivering the goods. We always (usually without first consulting our other partners) try to ensure that desks, chairs, typewriters and other office equipment are new and in good condition. It is a small point, but everybody has his or her own telephone (and we have no rules about making private telephone calls).

Once, when the husband of one of our secretaries was having difficulties getting a job, we designed and produced a set of estate agent-style 'sale particulars' for him and used the office franking machine to do a mail shot to every potential employer within miles. He got a job inside a fortnight. We all had a little weep over that.

With Compliments

I recently heard a partner in a very large firm of solicitors confess that when he complimented a member of his staff, his office manager pointed out that the partners had never to his knowledge· praised anyone before. We all need to be appreciated, and at our office we try always to give praise for good work or initiative. Where possible we promote from inside the office. Two of our best secretaries started life with us as the office junior. Everyone now works so well that everyday echoes with the gentle sound of backs being patted.

Which is just as well, because I must redress the balance by confessing that things do not always run as smoothly as I have indicated. We are not so hot on other aspects of office efficiency. Our 0rganisation and Management would be the despair of a time and motion expert. Things even go wrong with our staff relationships. I still shudder at the memory of an afternoon when I managed to reduce three secretaries to tears simultaneously. And there was a week more recently when Maureen and I scarcely spoke to each other except in monosyllables. It was over something so trivial that I cannot now remember what it was. There are inevitably bad days.

Nonetheless, the message is serious: take care of those who work with you, and you will be rewarded by an office that runs well and which clients like to visit. Or most of them do. During an office snowball fight last winter in the churchyard next to our office a passer-by was heard to remark to her friend: 'I wouldn't go to them for my divorce. They're much too silly’.

I do not advocate that all partners should allow themselves to be pelted with snowballs. A daily coffee break is scarcely practical if the office has a staff of 150. Nevertheless, I believe that many firms would profit financially (which is, after all what this is all about) by giving more serious thought to personnel management.

TOXIC 2024

Not long ago my daughter (who despite my best efforts also chose to become a solicitor) had been working in one of the big London law firms – putting in the expected long hours and trying to juggle having a family with the demands of work. Combined with the adrenaline that comes with high pressure she also became physically exhausted. She had been working herself to the bone, but somehow she managed to find time to become pregnant and – later have a traumatic delivery of her first daughter.

After the end of her maternity leave, she returned to work. A few weeks later a supervisor came to visit her to inform her that she was not delivering sufficient time recorded hours. From that moment she resolved to get off the treadmill, and started to look elsewhere. She is now General Counsel in an energy company but is running it along the same lines with her colleagues as her old dad did in his heyday.

Many  newspaper articles have been published recently  highlighting mental health problems in law firms. And it is not just the corporate lawyers that generate stress. LawCare, the mental health and wellbeing charity for the legal sector, reports that 69% of lawyers have experienced mental ill-health and one in five bullied, harassed or discriminated at work.

In March 2024 the London Daily Telegraph published an article headlined “Why Britain’s toxic law firms are on the brink of a reckoning”

It digs into the billable hours culture and argues that while firms do try to address mental health issues by offering on-site therapy and wellbeing facilities, such as free yoga and massages, such initiatives “often seem like gimmicks”.

It commented “Most people in distress don’t pick up the phones”

Curiously many of the posted comments on the article were unsympathetic:

“Why should anyone be remotely interested in lawyers whinging about stress. They put themselves in that position.”

And

“Not much sympathy here for a corporate lawyers. A sector deluded about its own importance and ripe for being brought into the 21st century.”

And  

“My heart bleeds for these parasites??!!”

But there was one response that I liked:

“We ran our Law firm with the interests of the staff and clients at the forefront of everything we did. We never overcharged and tried to ensure our staff, both fee earners and administrative staff were paid the going rate. The result was that we never made a lot of money but we had a very happy office and very satisfied clients. Have an ethical perspective on everything you do and you will enjoy your career.”

And I told him so: “Someone after my own heart. Did the same. Still working - well over retirement age and broke but wouldn’t have done it any other way!”

So…….Had my daughter chosen to stay on that trajectory, she too might have been subjected to those “toxic” stresses.  Yet the solution to the problem may be no more complicated than the philosophy a younger me espoused 50 years ago; Make friends with those you work with – whatever their status, and you will go a long way to make work stresses evaporate.

My message to all you slaves of billable hours: develop the “fuck it” philosophy. When it gets too much, whoever you are, say “Oh fuck it” and go and have a snowball fight, run a marathon, weed the lawn (or wee on the lawn if you feel like it) or do whatever takes your fancy.

But do not reach for the alcohol. It solves no problems and merely postpones and aggravates the ones that exist. I gave up alcohol completely at the beginning of Covid (I read that alcohol can increase the risk of a serious outcome) and have not touched a drop since. I have not missed it one jot.