Letter from a lawyer’s wife:

“Gerry and I were married 38 years. We raised three children. I used to think we had a pretty good marriage, but we’ve been separated now for seven months. Looking back, I think part of the problem was that I never felt the marriage was a priority to my husband. Whenever he got the monthly printout of his billable hours, I always felt my needs were somewhere down the line. His first priority, of course, was to have the most billable hours in the firm. Things only got worse after he became one of the firm’s managing partners ...”

Lawyer Walt Bachman, in his book, Law v. Life, writes that any lawyer who allows his or her annual billable hours to slip too low, or for a firm to drop below the prevailing norm for the community, risks more than a decrease in income. The very survival – of the lawyer and his firm – is at stake. Thirty years ago, when there was much less emphasis on the billable hour, lawyers with average billings of 1,500 hours per year often became partners. Today, says Bachman, when every law firm is worried about its profitability, 1,500 hours would be considered grossly substandard, and this fact has produced a nation of lawyers whose lives have been transformed by a ceaseless spiral of mandated workaholism. In Bachman’s opinion, “Ten per cent of a lawyer’s soul dies for every 100 billable hours worked in excess of 1,500 per year.”

There’s no doubt that Gerry, the lawyer who put billable hours before his marriage, was concerned about profitability; his own and his firm’s. But his wife’s complaint is a common refrain. And the results are often predictable. Here’s the rest of her letter:

“... For years I thought things would get better, and that we would have more time together. Gerry would always say to me, ‘Marilyn, just let me get through this next trial (or case or project), and then we’ll talk about doing something together.’ I can’t begin to tell you how much the demands of the law cost all of us – me, Gerry, the kids. The day-in, day-out emphasis on the practice of law finally wore me out. For many years, I struggled with self-esteem issues. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Now that Gerry and I are separated, that’s no longer an issue. There’s kind of a happy ending, though. While we’re separated, Gerry reordered his priorities and is planning to take early retirement. Will we spend it together? Probably not. Marriages are like flower gardens. They need water, nourishment and loving care in order to thrive. Relationships don’t stay static. They either grow or die.”

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