Hey Jealousy

The Boston University Facebook Scandal

Envy aims very high. - Ovid

There's no way that blonde bimbo got the high A in contracts!

Oh, law school. You give me so much material to write about. Repeatedly.


Yes, it’s that time of year again. After having to listen endless 2Ls complain on and on about their T&E and Biz Org grades [trust me, I’m sure they’re just as bitter about my class’ constant complaining about Practice Court] and watching the lower classes speculate about who will end up on law review [who cares?] and receive their first grades, it is time for another grade envy tirade.

And mirroring my complaints was a lovely little piece on Above the Law by Elie Mystal about a 1L at Boston University who posted his first semester grades on his Facebook. Not just “I did great!!!!!” or “I kicked LARC’s ass!!!!” Oh no, that would be far too subtle for this 1L. Instead he did this:

Civ Pro: A

Legal Writing & Research: A
Torts: A

Contracts: B+

I mean, there are tons of things that I complain about being on Facebook on a daily basis (creepy 3-D pictures of baby fetuses, I’m talking to you), but seriously—why would anyone on Facebook care to see an unofficial transcript of your first semester in law school? I’m friends with my mom on Facebook and I hope she’d have enough sense that if I did this sort of thing, she’d slap me for being so prideful and arrogant. Granted, if I had these grades, it might be worthy of a Facebook post, because it’d damn near be a miracle. But you get my drift.

But perhaps even worse than people not caring about this kind of thing is the people who do—and get massively offended by it. When I see this kind of thing [yes, it happens at my law school too] I roll my eyes and go on to the next status update. But some people get seriously upset. It’s insane. They will moan about this crap for days. Of course, these tend to be the people trying to figure out who is going to be on law review and who got the high A instead of them. I’ve talked about the petty academic envy that goes on at law school at length before (see my previous posts).

Mystal comments on how this is a gigantic waste of time—which I agree with. There are so many other things to spend your energy on, and a douchetastic classmate is probably not one. Are you upset about your grades in comparison to the douche's? Stop complaining, get off Facebook, and study more. As Mystal points out, instead of complaining, if you’re truly offended or whatever, spend that energy doing something productive, like on trying to steal his girlfriend. [Although this is just as petty, at least it’s far more entertaining and won’t make me want to gauge my eyes out.]

People, unless directly asked, no one wants to hear about your grades. One of two things happens when you talk about them: either you did better than others, which can earn you social ire, or you did worse and are going to feel inadequate. Actually, a third thing: I am going to tune you out because I’m worrying about how to phrase my Motion for Judgment on the Verdict so I don’t get a memo. It’s a lose, lose, lose situation, people.

Also, realize that if you are posting statuses like this, you will forever be labeled a douchebag. Think initial impressions don’t count? My class still refers to a kid from the quarter below us as “doucher” because of how he filled out his law buddy form.

I realize that some people, ahem, the “A plus having, Top-Gunneresque gunners” as Mystal puts it, may be frustrated by this. But there’s a reason that there is this unspoken law that you don’t do this: as stated above, you’re only going to lose, lose, lose.

In fact, the only way you could possibly win is if an attractive, dumber member of the opposite sex decides to buddy up to you to raise their grade the next quarter/semester. But rest assured, they’ll be back to hitting on the mediocre hottie that ignores your grade superiority statuses on Facebook in no time.

Like I said, you ultimately lose.

Mystal and I are in agreement that the only way to combat this kind of stuff is to not care. But we all know that’s not going to happen. Half of the school will not care and label you a douche, the other half will hate you for doing better than them in some class [and usually ¼ of this group will pretend NOT to care and then proceed to trash you whenever possible].

Get on it. It's that time. Again.

People, the only person that determines your grade is you and how hard you work. Well, that and your professor [you don’t control him, at least, the Dean hopes not]. And how smart your class relatively is [it’s easy to be top of the class when your class is full of mouth-breathing cretins]. You know what, the grades are there and you can't control it—it’s just best to embrace them and keep trucking on.

So stop narrowing your eyes at the douchebags and focus on you—because I guarantee you no one else is going to give a crap about how much of a douche that gunner in your 1L class was when they’re looking to hire you. Plus, in my experience, these kind of people eventually get theirs. Karma is a beautiful thing that does not require your energy to operate.

Back to the books, people.

The Georgetown Law Cheating Scandal
 

Rumor has a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, a voice of iron. - Virgil

 

Telephone: The Adult Version

 

Elie Mystal started out an article on a Georgetown Law cheating rumor by comparing law school to high school. Personally, I think it’s more akin to middle school, but you get the point. Mystal bemoans the de-evolution to childishness that everyone seems to experience in law school, while repeatedly pointing out he/she (?) didn’t go to state school. Well, surprise, it’s the same for us that did. We just probably matured in college with crappier vacations and older cars.

“Law schools seem to be crawling with snide, backbiting saboteurs. Playground bullying is replaced by intellectual bullying, and all sense of collegiality falls prey to petty competition.”

Well, Elie, you said it better than I possibly could. Before you start to thinking that my whole attitude about the professional school thing savors of bitterness, I must say that there are some great people I’ve met at law school. There are good, honest people here. They’re just far less noticeable than the ones Mystal talks about. Also, they cause less problems.

So what’s the solution? Mystal advocates doing what a Georgetown 1L did when he found at that someone in his section was spreading a rumor that he cheated on his civil procedure examination: he confronted it and handled it like an adult, while managing to attack aggressively and push back at the intellectual bully—and hard.

Cheater, cheater; cheating is a reputation bleeder. There literally is no faster way to turn law students against one of their own.

The unnamed Georgetown 1L emailed his entire section over break and confronted the accusations upfront and called the gossip monger out:

Hey section [Redacted],


Some students in our class told me they saw me cheating on the civil procedure exam. Apparently they feel like they are going to do me a favor by not reporting me and instead just talking shit about me and trying to make into a pariah or something. What they saw was me copy pasting my essay into google docs to do a character count that didn’t include spaces since I was using open office and that does count spaces.



Anyway don’t take my word for it, anyone who is convinced I cheated can report me to the ethics counsel. I don’t mind since my time stamp should absolve me. Don’t do me any “favors”.

 Happy holidays and new years all,

 Badass Georgetown 1L


[Okay, that’s not what it actually was signed but you get the point.]

Wait . . . you mean he dealt with this in an adult fashion? No counter rumor mongering or fake niceities? Or going to complain to the Dean? This email is genius! He basically backhanded the rumor with an ultimatum: Report me or STFU. [As Mystal put it so eloquently.]

Oh, rumors . . . one of the many delights/horrors of law school. Trust me, I get this kid’s annoyance and frustration. Things tend to get blown out of proportion, twisted, and exaggerated. Perhaps this is why I felt such affinity and amusement while watching Easy A. As I’m sure most people could say, “Rumors of my (slutiness/ruthlessness/callousness/alcoholism/cheating/lying) are greatly exaggerated.” Yes, that’s probably true, but the information is still out there. And fighting that information is the biggest battle of all.

What if everyone dealt with things like this Georgetown 1L? I admit, law school would lose some of its intrigue, but would that be a bad thing? Of course, the problem is most people, even lawyers, aren’t fond of confrontation. Had I been placed in a similar situation, I probably wouldn’t have had the stones to do what this kid did. Instead, I probably would have just bemoaned the rumors in a bar and trying to ignore the accusatory glares. Actually, I totally know this is what I would’ve done because this is how I’ve handled every single rumor about myself that’s ever gotten back to me.

Like in most things, I find myself part of the problem, not the solution. But hey, a majority of us are the problem, so that makes me feel a tad better. Also, the first step is realizing I’m part of the problem, and in my defense, I’m trying to change. So there’s that.

Still, the bravery and pure badass-ness of this Georgetown 1L are an example of what we should strive for.

Also, I need to meet this Elie Mystal person—their view point is refreshing and the narcissist in me loves that it’s similar to mine.

Lawyers & Long Islands

You do anything long enough to escape the habit of living, eventually the escape becomes the habit. – David Ryan

Yes, they actually sell these on zazzle.com. I wonder what your DUI clients would think about it?

One of the most soul crushing things about beginning law school is orientation. At least at our school. I mean, I get why it’s necessary, but you sit around for three days wondering if this is a sign of things to come. [FYI: It is.] The students, of course, feel it could be streamlined. Around day two, when the Dean walks in to talk about substance abuse, it’s all you can do just to appear interested and attentive.

Of course, the Dean had a point, one that many of us discounted the importance of.

Iris Erlingsdottir published a recent piece on HuffPost entitled, “Rehab for ‘Terminally Unique’ Lawyers.” In it, Erlingsdottir addresses addiction and its prevalence in the legal field. And yes, I know we’ve all heard it before, but I wonder how dangerous our discounting the value of the message is.

At the beginning of the article, Erlingsdottir recounts how in her old university days it was joked about how the blood bank truck would skip the law school because, as the nurses said, “It’s not worth the time and effort, because the blood will evaporate before we make it back.”

The too drunk 1Q, the drunk first year clerk, the drunk first year attorney who discovered that big law is not for him . . . . seem familiar?

Pretty hilarious, right? That’s when I remembered how a classmate my 1L year had commented that the blood bank truck would do a lot poorer than it should because too many upper quarters were hung over. I had laughed at the joke at the time, but now I wonder if it’s actually so funny. Are we laughing in the face of addiction because it’s inevitable?

Studies have shown that lawyers have twice the addiction rate of the general population and are three times as likely to be depressed. Really, considering the type-A, perfectionist, insecure overachievers professional can attract, this isn’t all that surprising. So I guess it poses a similar question to that I asked yesterday: Does law attract addicts or does it create them? And furthermore, does it hamper their treatment?

Lawyers are “notoriously reluctant” to seek help for their addiction issues. Erlingsdottir addresses the idea of “terminal uniqueness” and lawyers in relation to addiction. “Terminal uniqueness” is apparently a recovery term that refers to the reaction of newcomers to AA or any other treatment program that “these people aren’t me, my problem is different.” Lawyers training apparently seems to be a roadblock to recovery, as is the fact that they are in a profession that is licensed, monitored, and guided by ethical rules. At least, from what I gather, the argument that trying to stay sober is hard enough, but trying to stay sober in a profession such as ours brings on added challenges.

Law school and the profession itself fosters and environment that is secretive, competitive, stressful, and adversarial. As the article points out, it encourages isolation and not sharing, because that can be seen as weak and vulnerable. And before you waive this away, I challenge all of you to think back to your first year writing class or moot court. Everyone knows someone who hid a book or a statute or refused to share it with someone because of the competitive environment.

First one with a mult-million dollar verdict gets a bonus!

According to Harvey Hyman, a CA attorney and CEO of Lawyers Wellbeing, Inc., talks about how this profession makes its practitioners resistant to treatment:

“There is no doubt that lawyers are much more difficult to treat. They think that they are special, different from others, too smart to be addicted. On top of that, they’ve been trained to argue against everything and everyone, and they are extremely critical. They’ll use their brains to pick apart the program and everyone and everything associated with it, and this possess a unique challenge to anyone who treats them . . . They are not used to and have great difficulties getting in touch with their feelings, which is a huge part of getting and staying sober.”

Is this starting to ring a bell? I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten at least twenty lectures since I’ve started law school on how different and special lawyers are, about how we have to be logical, not emotional, about how we’re so fundamentally different from others.

Lawyers deal with so many other peoples’ “problems” all day, it’s no wonder they hardly have time to work on their own. Add onto that the stress of maintaining a good reputation in a practice where reputation matters and it almost seems like we’re programmed to fail.

And how bad is legal profession failing?

Note: We're epically failing. Also, I'm sure this stance is familiar to you, especially after a Contracts exam.

The ABA estimates that 20% of all lawyers have an alcohol dependency or abuse problem. 20%. That’s 1 in 5, people, the highest of any profession. And the depression rate? The average among U.S. adults is 6.5%, among lawyers it is 20%, and among law students it is 40%. I guess that makes me feel a little bit better about hating my life the last couple of months, but it’s scary at the same time. Adding to this problem is the view that most law schools are “way behind” in educating their students about alcohol dependency and making them be more self-aware.

Hyman claims later on that “law schools are a nursing ground for breeding alcoholics.” Is that true? A doctor later chimes in that law students are known as being the hard drinking group among students and that the culture is you live hard, you work hard, and that “drinking and addiction is a little bit a part of the legal culture.”

We're done with Memo II/4Q exams/big trial! Party time!

As I was going through this article, I thought about a recent sporting event here held at my current school. Some undergrads from my alma mater came into town and they hung out with a couple of law students. I can’t count the number of times someone told them they needed to “buck up” and “learn how to hang” now that they were with law students. I thought of the mixers with law firms I’ve been to with open bars. This has become such a huge part of the legal culture, sometimes I think we don’t even reflect on it because we don’t realize it’s so outside of the scope of normalcy.

I think addiction, not just to alcohol, but to anything, is a huge problem in law school. Luckily, I attend a school where our addiction problems tend to be fewer than some of the other schools my friends have attended. Of course, this is a bit baffling, since we are known as a harder and more stressful law school. Literally, one of my state school 3L friends refers to our 3L year as “The Holocaust.” [No joke.] But we’re in a smaller town, there are less distractions, and because of the religious community, such behavior is judged and frowned upon. Not that it stops most people completely, but you know, the stigma still is there. Unlike some of the other schools in town, organizations are not allowed to host open bar mixers or anything of the sort. How much this actually cuts down on the alcohol abuse is anyone’s guess, but I can tell you—our school is not nearly as bad as others. At least when it comes to alcohol or drugs.

Ah, the numerous nights were sleep eludes you. Instead you worry about your upcoming exams/the direct examination you have to do tomorrow/how you're going to pay your loans back when you don't have a job.

What a lot of people tend to forget is that you can be addicted to other things, as well. Whether it’s religion, physical intimacy with others [ahem], working out, staying healthy, WHATEVER . . . it seems like everyone has an addiction in this place. Some of them are innocuous . . . really, how much can an addiction to “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills” hurt you in the long run besides tending to make you shallower and more insipid? But they are addictions just the same. And I think it’s this addictive attitude that can lead to some of the excess and debauchery I bemoaned in the previous post.

So what should law schools do about it? I haven’t a clue. As someone still immersed in it, I probably don’t have the best perspective. But I do think the littlest things can help. Fostering open communication may be a start, but to be honest, that has an ice cube’s shot in hell of working right away in such a competitive and selfish environment. Our school recently started giving yoga classes. I know that seems dumb, but the littlest ways to de-stress that don’t involve inebriating substances is a start.

I’m not saying I don’t get the mechanics of how the situation works—trust me, I do. The first thing out of most people’s mouths after an extremely stressful assignment or advocacy session is, “When are we going to the bar?” But perhaps it’s like John Selden said: It's not the drinking to be blamed, but the excess.

Look, I’m not saying that everyone had a problem or that everyone will necessarily develop one—that would be an overstatement of the situation. But there is a problem in the legal profession and in law schools, and it’s one we don’t like to talk about. I don’t know much about AA or other treatment programs, but I’m always hearing that the first step in recovery is recognizing there’s a problem. So maybe that’s what we need to do . . . discuss it more openly and stop shoving our skeletons in the closet.

Just a thought.