So you're thinking about being a lawyer. Perhaps you've already made the decision and want to justify it.

Do a couple of things. First go rent Inherit the Wind and revel in Spencer Tracy's portrayal of Clarence Darrow. You'll come away with a sense of the nobility and importance of the law. Then, read Ray Woodcock's book. Take the Bar and Beat Me is a tough and humorous examination of law school and the profession and what they do to otherwise normal human beings. Woodcock's book should be read by anyone considering the law or those looking back on their careers wondering what the hell happened. Woodcock holds a J.D. and M.B.A. from Columbia University. In the alchemy of success, the mixture of the two degrees usually turns a leaden legal education into gold. It did for Ray Woodcock. Upon graduation, he worked on Wall Street for a prestigious law firm. "It was exciting just to be there," Woodcock writes. 'To work across the street from the New York Stock Exchange; to be at the office at 2 A.M. and know that, nearby, gold traders were doing war with midday competitors in Hong Kong... to stroll intathe grand lobbies of Morgan and the other major banks; and simply to stand still and feel the financial power of the entire world throbbing through the pavement." After a little intense effort on behalf of a client, a lawyer's phone call might "result in $100 million in securities cascad[ing] onto the selling floors of Wall Street." Heady stuff most would die for. Why did Ray Woodcock give it all up? He says he took a look at the lawyers around him and frankly didn't see a lot of good role models. About his fellow lawyers Woodcock writes, "[w]hen you were young, you probably knew some kids who were always being made fun of. If you laughed at them long enough, they got mad and went off to tell the grownups on you. In a way, nothing has

It's not that Ray Woodcock doesn~t want you to be a lawyer. He just wants you to think about it
BY MICHAEL L. ANTOLINE changed. As it turns out, you should have been nicer to those little twerps, because they grew up and became attorneys, and now they're pissed." Woodcock gives a little sympathy as well. He implies that many of those attorneys were lawyers riding the back of the tiger, hating the ride but too afraid of losing the money to get off. Woodcock got off. After an unsatisfying move to another major law firm, he decided to use his M.B.A. training. He developed some computer skills, did some financial consulting, and wound up back at a law firm working in the area of executive compensation for Fortune 500 companies. After tiring of structuring golden-parachute and outplacement programs for top executives, Woodcock moved to Colorado to write his first book. His purpose in writing Take the Bar and Beat Me is not to trash the profession; rather he intends to help clarify the thinking of those considering law as a career. He delivers a dose of realism; an antidote for some of the wind inherited by watching Spencer Tracy. The book takes a less-than-positive view only to "provide a counterpoint to the overwhelming popular beliefs about being a lawyer." The book deals with three phases of the lawyer's transformation; law school, the bar exam and practice, and, finally, coping with the side effects. Woodcock argues the changes wrought by the profession begin as early as the application process. Law school questionnaires always ask why the applicant

Michael L. Antoline is an attorney and writer in Elk River, Minnesota.

May 1992

is interested in the law. Woodcock writes, "[t]his may be the first time in your life that you'll have to explain to someone, carefully, that you are an adult now and that you know what you're doing with your life. 'Moreover, you're applying to law school, so you have to be especially persuasive. By the time you're done, it's not surprising if you believe your own propaganda, and are now convinced that law school is exactly the place for you." Woodcock also speaks frankly about the effects of law school pressure. He says anyone who's been working 80 to 100 hours a week for months on end will be moody, have no patience, and be irrational. "But there is something special about law schoo!. ... Law school is a door to a hard, new world. It brings you face-to-face with a different, less friendly kind of person, and eventually that's what you become too. I sometimes wonder whether it's anything like what people feel in the moments before their first act of cannibalism." He is also unimpressed with the academic community's distress about the effect of law school on law students. A former dean of Harvard Law School is quoted as being "concerned about the effect of our legal education on the idealism of our students." What did he expect, Woodcock asks-"to make an ideal house pet out of a rat that's just been released from a cage where it was fighting for its life?" About the social benefits of law school, Woodcock advises to "plan on doing some searching if you want to find stimulating friends. You'll definitely find talented people in law school. But talents require feeding. If someone is willing to devote the time that law school demands, they've probably decided that their own talents weren't that great or important. They're voting against, not in favor of, self-ex. " panslOn. What can law students do to improve their chances of being happy in their careers? As difficult as it may be, Woodcock suggests that students experience

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Ray Woodcock gets funny-and tough-in his treatment of lawyers' educations

as many types of practice as they can during their education. The alternative is a trap. First comes the lemming's instinct to work in a top corporate law firm. Then comes the summer clerkship. Then the job offer and acceptance. It's like a dark, myopic tunnel into which students willingly march. The studentnow-lawyer emerges into the light several years into corporate practice unhappy and anxious. Without experiencing other types of law, the anxiety of making a change to the unknown becomes insurmountable. So many students choose law because of the variety of practice opportunities yet do little to keep those options open. In addition to pointing out the warts, Woodcock gives some solid advice on surviving as a summer clerk and new associate. In his chapter entitled "Climbing" he includes "how to" or "how not to" sections on "being the right kind of crazy" "being perfect" "getting positioned" and "billing lots of hours."

Take the Bar is emotionally as well as intellectually honest. Woodcock talks frankly about failing the bar the first time and his failed marriage; personal insights no real egomaniacal Wall Streeter would ever reveal. In a passage that will be poignant to lawyers and spouses whose relationships survived law school and damn painful for those whose relationships didn't, Woodcock describes his loss. "I married a woman whom I wouldn't have married if I hadn't gone to law school; I did it mostly because she was a steady friend during some tough years when I needed that. Having married her, I drove a wedge into the relationship because of my commitment to pass the bar and succeed at the firm, no matter what it meant to her needs or wishes." The lesson is that law school is not the best place to begin or nurture relationships. Woodcock writes, "[i]t is extremely difficult to keep your professional way of thinking from dominating your entire life....T 00 many of us found ourPhotograph by Richard C. Harris

selves conducting cross-examinations in the kitchen at home, because we couldn't understand our own spouses and children until they learned to express themselves like lawyers (or until they walked out the door)." Throughout his career Woodcock has done things differently. In his undergraduate years he once boycotted a final exam because he felt the professor had done such a bad job. In another course he chose a thesis topic because it interested him even though he knew it irritated the professor. He alienated the academic dean at Columbia by insisting on dropping a course halfway through the semester causing him to stay an extra term to complete law school. Add to this his rejection of a Wall Street career and the writing of a sharp-edged book, and Woodcock comes off looking a bit wild-eyed. But Woodcock disagrees. He admits it's in his nature to occasionally stray, but by and large he's played the game and characterizes himself as, at best, a "rebel in a bottle." Most writers' greatest fear is that they only have one book in them. If a book is about a lifelong career, there is a real risk a writer can invest all of his experience in a single book and have nothing left. At 36, Ray Woodcock has written a book that encompasses most of his adult life. He doesn't, however, worry about where the next book will come from; instead he laughs and speaks of a half dozen ideas simmering on the back burner. He's been a Wall Street lawyer, M.B.A., financial consultant, and now, a writer promoting his first book. He leaves the impression he is trying to experience enough about the parts to understand the whole. In his book, Woodcock offers to share what he's learned with those thinking of entering the profession and, perhaps unintentionally, with those considering an exit. It's a worthy offer.

Take the Bar and Beat Me is available for $11.45 (including shipping and handling) from Milestones, P.O. Box 1421, Denver, CO 80201.
Student Lawyer

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