
The practicing attorney must play a variety of roles. The personalities and needs of his clients, and the circumstances of each case, will compel him to hone a specific set of human relations skills. I imagine this holds true for many professions. I want to describe briefly some of the more recurring roles that I have had to play in my twenty-three years of representing clients in the areas of bankruptcy and criminal defense.
The Ledge Talker. Imagine someone hanging on by a very thin thread. Someone at nearly the end of his or her wits, someone perched on a ledge outside the window of a many-storied building. The person is poised to surrender to despair, and is considering a fateful plunge. The individual’s life is nearly ruined by financial insolvency, or by the sudden appearance of a criminal charge. Yet all is not lost; for an attorney appears, and begins to coax the potential jumper back inside the window.
This is the sort of role an attorney must play at the outset of a crisis. Human nature being what it is, most people wait until things are in shambles before they secure legal help. Garnishments have started, foreclosures have been initiated, liens have been slapped on property, creditors are barking at the door, and criminal complaints have been filed. Procrastination is very real: most people do not deal with their problems in a timely manner. They wait until things have reached the proportions of a disaster, and then they look for help.

You, as the attorney, must understand this psychological dynamic, and must be proficient at soothing and calming the client who is at the end of his rope. It is your job to talk him off the cliff. You must show compassion and sympathy, and allow the distressed client to tell his story. Every client has a story, and it will always be very complicated. It does not matter whether the story makes logical sense; what matters is that the client is able to tell it. If you can get him or her talking, you have already begun the healing process.
The Hand Holder. The hand holding dynamic is linked to the idea of the Ledge Talker. The experienced attorney must have a very capable “bedside manner.” He or she must be able to listen to the problems of the client, and lend a sympathetic ear. I suppose this sort of thing is easier for some people than for others. I recall being told, when I was in law school in the late 1990s, that the attorney can easily become “drained” or “burdened” by “taking client problems home with him.” I never found this to be true. I never felt as if the problems of other people somehow “burdened” me. In fact, I was very interested in hearing about the problems of others. I enjoyed crafting solutions. Offering and implementing solutions to their problems was, in fact, a real source of satisfaction for me. Most people just want to be heard; they want to know that someone cares, and is in their corner fighting for them. As I see it, this is one of those fundamental truths that some attorneys never fully grasp.
The Enforcer. There is a time to show sympathy, and a time to bare teeth. At some point, decisive action needs to be taken to solve problems. In many—perhaps most—situations, the client will not want to take the necessary action. He or she will prevaricate, waver, or dodge responsibility. The good attorney will know how, and when, to be very blunt and direct with his client. There are times when the attorney needs to bring his foot down. Real solutions to problems usually involve doing things that the client does not want to do. He or she may be compelled to surrender property as part of a reorganization; accept some punishment as part of a plea negotiation; or otherwise face some distinct unpleasantness. These are the times when the attorney cannot simply be a milquetoast avatar of his client: he must tell the client, in no uncertain terms, what needs to be done, and what must be done.
There are two types of attorneys. The first type is simply an avatar of his client, in the sense that he or she reproduces every impulse and intention of the client, no matter how frivolous, without truly leading the representation from the front. These are usually craven, amoral types who are afraid to exert the effort involved in real representation. They are people who, for their own financial gain perhaps, want to fill their clients full of false confidence and hope, or are afraid to stand up to their client. The second type is the kind who actually uses his or her experience and knowledge to advise the client on what is realistic or not realistic, or what is appropriate or inappropriate. This takes moral courage, because some clients do not want to hear the truth: they want to be humored and coddled. But the good counselor will not sit by idly and let his client destroy himself. Expectations must be managed from the start of the representation, so that if bad news is to come, it may be accepted with more equanimity. But the lawyer who spoils his client with false hopes is like the mother who corrupts her child with excessive indulgence. When bad news comes, tantrums ensue. As Quintilian says,
The child who crawls around in royal purple—what will he not want as an adult? [I.2.6]
The Janitor. The good counselor will be adept at cleaning up his client’s messes. People who have turned their lives into disaster areas need someone to survey the scene, and offer guidance on how to conduct a thorough clean-up. The reality is that most people enmeshed with problems simply don’t know how to take the first step. They need a neutral, objective opinion on how to reorganize themselves, or how to get a fresh start.

The Technician. When all is said and done, the attorney must know his trade thoroughly. This, of course, takes years of experience in the trenches. All the hand holding and consoling is of little use if the attorney cannot do his job effectively. In every profession, there are techniques, procedures, and practices that only the seasoned experts know about. The years in the trenches will eventually show. As the attorney grows in experience and confidence, he will begin naturally to exude a certain “old salt” flavor, in the same way that a wizened mariner seems to have brine in his beard. Clients and judges can instinctively sense this.
These are some of the most important attributes of the good counselor. There are more, of course, but I see these as the most important. These qualities can be applicable, I suppose, to nearly any field. I understand that personalities vary greatly, and that these qualities can be difficult to acquire for some. Here again Quintilian wisely observes,
You say, “But natural talent is greater in some than in others.” I concur. One person will accomplish more, and another less. But no one will be found who has gained nothing by diligent study. [I.1.3]
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Read more on responsibility and duty in the new translation of Cicero’s On Duties:

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