In the last two episodes, I gave you a lot of data. Two national studies, two countries, both arriving at the same conclusion: women in the legal profession are burning out faster than men, and it isn’t because of individual resilience. Once resilience is off the table, the question of why women lawyers burn out faster than men stops being a question about us and becomes a question about the design of the thing we’re standing in. That’s what I want to answer today. One thing first, because it will change how you hear everything after it. If you’re at a good firm, why would you burn out anyway? Because what produces it sits underneath the firm rather than inside it. I spent the past 20 years at a great firm, and I still burnt out. “The associates that I started with, the ones who came before me and who came after, I’m proud to say that many of them are my partners. And I’ve always had largely the same people around me the whole way through. And I became the lawyer I am because of the opportunities that I had there. But I still burnt out.” Stacey Stevens, lawyer and burnout expert So this isn’t a complaint about a firm, or about a specific lawyer, because I’m not here to make that point. This is about something underneath every firm, and I want to talk about it at a level where I’m not bashing anybody, because being critical of the practice is far less useful, and it lets us off the hook from looking clearly at what’s actually true about it. How long has the legal profession existed, and how long have women been in it? Roughly 2,000 years for the profession. About 130 years for women. Structured advocacy, courts, professional pleaders- that architecture is ancient, and for essentially all of it there were no women in it at all. The first women were called to the bar, which means formally admitted to practise law, in the late 1800s. Women did not become the majority of students entering law school until 2016, just over 50%, the first time on record. Sit with that math for a second. Two thousand years of a profession being built, refined and codified, with women present for the last 130 of them and present in meaningful numbers for a fraction of that. It explains something that otherwise makes no sense: a profession full of smart, driven, intelligent, accomplished women still operates on a design none of us had any hand in. Nobody is stopping us. That’s just how it was built. “The house, it was built long before we were given the keys.” Stacey Stevens, lawyer and burnout expert What is the legal profession built on? Traits we broadly call masculine. Competitive, aggressive, argumentative, certain, combative when required and comfortable being so. Now, those aren’t flaws in the design, and I want to be fair about that. Law is an adversarial system, meaning two sides argue opposing cases in front of a neutral decision-maker, and a system built that way needs someone willing to fight, whether that’s for a client in trouble who needs an advocate who will go to war or for anyone else who can’t do it themselves. There’s real value in a profession that produces people who don’t back down, and I’m not arguing that the system should be soft. I built my career on being able to do exactly this whenever it was called for. It just leaves you with an ecosystem calibrated around one set of traits, which then measures everyone standing in it by how well they perform those traits. What does a law firm actually count? Four things. Billable hours, which are the units of time a lawyer records and charges to a client, plus fee generation, client retention and client acquisition. Those are the success metrics. That’s the scoreboard. Everything that determines your compensation, your standing, your partnership prospects and your future relates back to those four categories. Notice what all four have in common. Each one is a volume metric. How much did you produce, how much did you bring in, how much did you keep, how much did you add. The scoreboard measures extraction and accumulation and nothing else. What doesn’t show up on the scoreboard? Most of the work that keeps a firm functioning. The hour you spent talking an associate off the ledge because a client or an issue had them so stressed out they couldn’t work. The client relationship you held together through a genuinely difficult stretch by being the person they knew they could call and knew they could trust. The judgment call where the right answer turned out to be fewer hours rather than more. The mentoring. The institutional glue, by which I mean the unpaid, unrecorded work of holding a place together so other people can do their jobs in it. None of that is measured. Not because anybody sat down and decided it’s worthless, but because it doesn’t reduce to a number, and the legal profession runs on numbers. What is performance surveillance in a law firm? It’s the permanent running scoreboard that measures a very narrow slice of what you actually do, that everyone can see, and that never turns off. I don’t mean someone watching you. “You are always mid measurement. The year never stops being a year you’re being assessed on.” Stacey Stevens, lawyer and burnout expert And a scoreboard that only counts volume will always reward the person willing to produce the most volume, regardless of what else that person is carrying. What do women change about themselves to stay on that scoreboard? We minimize our feminine traits and develop masculine ones. Nobody says that part plainly, and it happens without much conscious decision, in small increments, over years. We learn that softness can be read as weakness, so we harden, we man up, we grow a thicker skin. We learn that emotion in a professional setting can be a liability, so we suppress it. We learn that collaboration doesn’t show up on the scoreboard and assertion does, so we become more assertive. And you learn to be certain even when you aren’t, because doubt in the legal world is expensive. I want to be careful here, because I’m not being critical of any woman who did this. “That adaptation was our intelligence. It’s what we knew the environment rewards.” Stacey Stevens, lawyer and burnout expert We’re all extremely good at reading what an environment rewards. That’s part of the reason we got into this in the first place. It comes at a cost, and that's what I want to talk about next. You will recover from burnout, Stacey Thanks for reading Stacey Stevens | How We Recover From Burnout! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. 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