One
Lawyer's Thoughts on Advertising and the Legal Profession
by Vivian A. Houghton
When I first decided to produce a brochure
advertising my law firm's bankruptcy services, I did so with some
trepidation. The source of my hesitation wasn't fear the
public might see me as an "ambulance-chasing" lawyer; I
was more confident in both the public and my advertising plan than
that. Instead, my apprehension was about the response of
other lawyers. Since I planned to mass-distribute my
brochure through the News Journal, I couldn't help but get nervous
when I envisioned the partners in some plush Wilmington firm being
told by one of their secretaries, "Hey, in the newspaper
today, sandwiched in with the Domino's Pizza coupons, there's an
advertisement from some lawyer about bankruptcy
services."
To be honest, the threat of mockery from my peers
intimidated me. But since I had come to the legal profession
late, and had held a variety of jobs before that, including
race-track worker and barmaid, I'd already taken plenty of risks
in my life and so I figured, "What the hell, one more risk
can't hurt." So, with the help of one paralegal and one
professional writer, I got my advertising copy together.
Then I made a hefty payment to the News Journal and crossed my
fingers. Fortunately, the gamble paid off. My business
improved dramatically. That was in 1990. Periodic use
of the same advertising tactics since then has further boosted my
business.
Although I adopted a light tone above, the truth
is that advertising legal services raises some serious questions
about how to "present" ourselves, what it is we have to
"sell," and how we view ourselves in relation to our
clients.
As this magazine's readers know, the public's
regard for lawyers is not at a high point these days.
Consequently, lawyers as a group have retreated into a kind of Puritanism
when it comes to showing our public face. As a result, we
have imposed a group pressure on ourselves to always appear very
"professional."
Unfortunately, this obsession with looking good to
the public has its down side: we are often judgmental, and even
snobbish, with our peers. We look down our noses at the
struggling, lower-class lawyer who publicizes her/his services in
"unseemly" ways. Yet "unseemly" is
never, in reality, clearly defined; it is a loose cannon of a word
that can mean a number of things. For instance, it can mean
that you're an embarrassment to the legal profession if you try to
drum up business in ways that don't conform to the laid-back,
Oriental-rugged, cool-corporate strategies of the "true
professional." Or it can mean that you haven't done
your "lawyerly duty" by convincing the public that,
although you're interested in making money, your real
concern as an attorney is to be people's "helpmate" when
they're in trouble. This latter approach to lawyering is
what I call "the Mother Theresa-ing of our profession":
we like to present ourselves as God's angels of mercy in a
troubled world.
Such concern with image, with packaging, is
typical of public relations and advertising in all fields.
Yet in this day and age when there is such public suspicion of the
role of lawyers in society, lawyers do themselves no favors by
reducing the complex issue of their relationship to the public to
a question of cosmetics, "How do we look?" When
Jurassic Park audiences cheer as a dinosaur devours a lawyer, or
when TV viewers chuck at a beer commercial depicting lawyers as
animals, there is a very real resentment feeding such
responses. That resentment is not a frivolous or superficial
phenomenon. It is rooted in a U. S. social-economic
evolution that touches upon the legal profession, but is not
confined to the legal profession.
The evolution I am talking about is as follows--
Our society has undergone profound structural
changes in production, consumerism, mass education, communications
and the delivery of services since the century's beginning.
Coincident with these changes there developed a growing class of
professionals, semi-professionals and managerial types whose
purpose was to create, oversee, and reproduce the ideas and
infrastructures necessary for keeping our ever-more-complex
society under control. This class's evolution has had a big
impact on the average person, who over recent decades has come to
feel increasingly dominated and "managed" by these
so-called "experts."
Lawyers are a key part of this "experts"
class. We are instrumental in interpreting, applying,
extending, and rethinking existing law and developing new
law. We also, as a group, produce a disproportionate number
of career politicians, high-level government workers, and think tank
leaders. It is no wonder, then, that lawyers have come to
represent in many people's minds a society dominated by so-called
experts.
Yet as the polls show, people also believe that
the experts, far from doing a good job, have led society down a
dead-end road--i.e., troubled economy, social violence and
conflict everywhere, lack of real political choices, etc.
Not surprisingly, then, lawyers as a group are not held in high
regard. We are seen--along with government commissions,
career politicians, yuppie financiers and political
consultants--as the architects, not the potential healers, of
America's current decline.
My own response to these realities is to face them
squarely. I believe people have legitimate gripes about the
"professionalization" of our society. For
instance, this professionalization often takes the form of
mystifying the knowledge that the professional possesses, of
making that knowledge seem more complex (and therefore more
difficult to grasp) than it really is.
One example of this mystification process that
should be familiar to most readers of this magazine is the way
legal documents are usually written: It's as if each of us had
taken a special course in how to write clumsy, multi-claused,
compound sentences seething with polysyllabic words designed for
the sole purpose of making sure that only other lawyers can
understand what we write. In this way we make sure that
people have to hire us in order to interpret for them the
law and other lawyer's arguments. This is disempowerment in
action, the process by which people, forcibly estranged from the
information they need to protect themselves, are then made
dependent on those who supposedly "own" that
information.
It was my awareness of such issues that led me to
do the particular type of advertising brochure that I did.
One word guided my approach: "de-mystify." So we
produced a single-fold brochure in question and answer form.
The brochure explained in everyday language some of the legal and
personal aspects of filing for bankruptcy. The brochure also
explained that filing for bankruptcy could in fact be done without
hiring a lawyer. The brochure also suggested to prospective
clients that they should shop around first in order to check out
the fees and attitudes of different attorneys--in other words,
they should adopt the same mindset that would guide them if they
were hunting a new stereo system or the best price this week on kielbasa.
As a result of such advertising, my business has
grown. But has the advertising somehow tarnished the
profession's standards? You'll have to decide for yourself,
but I don't think so. I believe the only thing that can
lower our standards or hurt our image is smugness, directed at
either the public or the "little lawyer" who has to
struggle to stay above water. Such arrogance can only deepen
the public's suspicion of us as a group.
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