Truth is stranger than fiction.

This is not a post about politics in the United States, though the title of the post might make it seem like it could be.

This is instead a post that has to be written because I saw a headline and thought, “well that has to be fodder for a post,” and then it turned out to be a new story about someone I wrote about previously.

(NB: I could have titled this post, “Turns out it was a story about two men named Brady” but that would have been both too deep of a deep cut if you are a new reader, and a pretty unacceptable level of punnery even for a Friday post.)

Having now “cleared my throat” on screen more than sufficiently, I’ll actually deliver some content… this is a quick hit follow up on a story I wrote about back in the before-times… July 2019.

Christopher Brady used to be a Florida lawyer. He got disbarred for some Hollywood (California not Florida) style breaking and entering to steal a computer server from his former law firm.

I got pulled into writing about his story originally because the ABA Journal online ran a headline about how he got disbarred over punctuation which was, at best, partially correct. (He created a new law firm that had the same name as the firm that had terminated him but that added periods to the abbreviation part of the law firm name, so that his former employer was Barak Law Group, PA but his new firm was Barak Law Group, P.A.)

(Barak. Like a misspelled version of the first name of the most-recent prior President of the United States. Barack Obama. You remember him, right. A man who would have never responded to a question about whether there would be a peaceful transition of power in the United States in a chilling fashion.)

So, why am I rehashing this guy’s story? Well, because the ABA Journal got me with a headline again, but this time it appears the headline was 100% accurate:

Disbarred lawyer is convicted even though twin took responsibility for the crime.

I mean, come on. Now that I know this guy had a twin brother, how in the world was that not more integral to the defense of the disciplinary proceedings?

“No, I’m not the guy you see on that video recording tying a rope from that truck to the front door of the Barak Law Group law firm and then moving the truck so that the door rips open. . . No, sir, not me. Also, I’m not one of the two guys on that tape who go inside and take out a safe and a computer server. No, sir. I’ve got a twin. That has to be the work of my twin!”

(The above is, of course, entirely fictional dialogue I just made up out of whole cloth.)

The twin defense didn’t exactly work in the latest criminal case, of course, but still. “Feels” like this should have been mentioned earlier.

The criminal case that captured the ABA Journal’s attention this week involves a crime that has much more of a “Better Call Saul” flavor rather than the “Breaking Bad” style of the truck-door-computer server heist. The criminal act was the faking of a court order impacting child custody for the benefit of the lawyer’s twin brother. The fake order, which indicated it was filed on a day the court clerk’s office wasn’t open for business and which included misspellings such as “habeus” and “honerable,” commanded the twin brother’s ex-wife to deliver custody of the child to the twin brother. According to the news reports of the trial, the former lawyer was convicted for the forgery even though the twin brother testified that he was the one who committed the act.

Interestingly, these events all occurred earlier in time than the server heist. The events leading to this conviction actually did involve the Florida lawyer acting as a lawyer because he was representing his twin brother in the child custody proceedings and was still permitted to practice law during the events. Representing family is often a bad idea for lawyers. The reasons typically are more subtle than the issues presented by the Brady twins.

If you’re looking for photos of the twins (identical not fraternal), rest assured they do have the “Florida man” flavor you might expect and you can get them at this link to some local Florida media.

The era of permanent disbarment in TN has begun.

What now seems like an eternity ago, because it was written in the before-times, I wrote about Tennessee’s change to its disciplinary procedural rules resulting in implementation of permanent disbarment. I questioned exactly why the change was needed and what it would mean given that it was being paired with changes to extend the maximum length of suspensions from 5 years to 10 years.

As with a lot of things I have written, it amounted to nothing more than screaming into the void as the changes went forward and became effective as disbarments entered on or after July 1, 2020. (Also, “Screaming into the Void” sounds like a very good high school yearbook theme for 2020-2021.)

Earlier this month, the first two permanent disbarments were entered in Tennessee under the new procedural rules. An attorney practicing in middle Tennessee was disbarred forever on September 10, 2020. The charges against him stemmed from having pled guilty in federal court in 2019 to wire fraud, identity theft, and tax fraud. The underlying conduct involved misappropriations of funds in trust belonging to a minor and misappropriating other funds in a probate case.

The second permanent disbarment order was entered a day later involving a Tennessee lawyer based in Alabama. Her case has few similarities to the first beyond the ultimate outcome. She essentially took on clients in immigration matters (6) and failed to provide services despite being paid, dumped the clients, and retained the fees. She apparently did this in the process of abandoning her practice. Once a disciplinary investigation began, she did not respond to the Board, was then temporarily suspended (did not comply with the requirements for providing clients notice after such a suspension), and then consented to the permanent disbarment ruling against her.

So, what we can learn from this with respect to how permanent disbarment might be used? Not much, I guess. Neither of these lawyers have very sympathetic stories, one of the two consented to being disbarred forever and the other is likely in federal prison for essentially stealing money. That doesn’t mean that neither might have been able to trod a path to redemption under the prior procedure, but neither presents the kind of case that would make anyone want to even online browse for, much less go to, any mattresses.

But there are two things still worth thinking about.

The first is the capriciousness of timing. As mentioned in my ancient posts, the rule change implementation was not one that was going to apply only to new cases arising after a certain date but to orders of disbarment entered after a certain date. To drive that point home, on June 26, 2020, a lawyer in Washington County, Tennessee consented to disbarment over conduct that is not publicly clarified in any respect other than with reference to rules (RPC 8.4(a)(b)(c)(d) and (e), which would imply the situation would have involved some sort of criminal conduct and some sort of dishonesty. But, because the order was entered before July 1, 2020, that lawyer has the glimmer of hope for redemption because they can apply for readmission to the bar on or after June 27, 2025.

The second is an administrative issue that probably does not matter in the two permanent disbarments so far but that might be worth some further scrutiny in the future. Both of the September 2020 permanent disbarment orders end with the statement that the former lawyers must also comply with the portions of the rules applying to disbarred attorneys with respect to notifying clients and others of the disbarment. Now that disbarments are permanent in Tennessee, that’s a pretty pointless requirement. There is no hammer to force compliance and now no longer any carrot to incentivize compliance. In the past, whether a lawyer complied with those notice requirements would play a role in any future efforts to be reinstated.

But now? If not a purely aspirational requirement to maintain, it is practically, entirely toothless.

PDA: If you’re going to get disbarred in TN, get it done before July 1, 2020.

Because if you can get it finalized by June 30, then you might still have the chance to be reinstated starting July 1, 2025. In this instance, PDA is short for “public disservice announcement,” not “public display of affection.” You might remember back last year I wrote about a proposed revision to the rules of disciplinary enforcement in Tennessee and my reasons for thinking it was not a necessary change.

On Friday, the Court entered an order adopting the revisions as proposed. The order mentions that in addition to comments filed by the Tennessee Bar Association, the Board of Professional Responsibility, and the Knoxville Bar Association, there were comments filed by two individual lawyers. It should probably come as no surprise to anyone reading this that all of the comments, except for the BPR’s comment, voiced opposition to the proposed changes. You can read all of the comments that were submitted here.

The Court’s order offers no explanation for why the Court thought the revision to be necessary in the first place, nor does it undertake any explanation of why it disagreed with the majority of the comments or what about the Board’s position it found persuasive, if anything. (The most effort that the Board put into its response was actually to talk at length about the Hughes case that already demonstrates that the Court had the power and willingness under the current system to refuse to reinstate a disbarred lawyer who it doesn’t feel should be reinstated.) So … disbarment in Tennessee is about to become a “forever” punishment, putting Tennessee into a very small group of states that embrace such an approach, and we still don’t know “why” the Court thought the change was needed.

Thus, on the present record, there seem to be only two possible conclusions to draw: (1) the Court simply thinks that disbarment under the current system is not sufficiently severe in terms of a penalty because it provides for a second-chance; or (2) the Court thinks that disbarment should truly be reserved only for the worst-of-the-worst offenses and that most lawyers who get disbarred should actually be hit instead with a suspension of somewhere between 6 and 10 years in length.

Which one is it? Only time will tell I guess.

Two updates: Ruff[alo]ed feathers in Georgia & Piercing personal jurisdiction in California

Apologies for the drought in content over the last little bit as I’ve been traveling my state for my Ethics Roadshow doing a three-hour presentation in four cities about what I think the future looks like for those who will still be practicing in 2025.

For today, two updates of note that involve important, ongoing topics but that also involve strikingly different interactions.

I’ve written quite a few posts during 2019 and I’ve had subsequent interactions with lawyers involved in two of those matters. One of the interactions has been cordial and one has not. As with all things in the world, their situations and lives have continued and more has transpired regarding their disputes since I interacted with their stories.

The lawyer taking on whistleblower status in a high-profile dispute with his former law firm that involved litigation on both coasts that I wrote about earlier this year (under the heading “A lawsuit about a lawsuit that touches on everything about 2019?”) has emailed me on a few occasions to update me about the litigation proceedings. His dispute with his former law firm involves very serious allegations being thrown in both directions by the adversarial sides.

Most recently, the California lawsuit that was filed against him by his former firm, after he had filed his own lawsuit against his former firm in New York, appears to have been dismissed/quashed on the basis of a lack of personal jurisdiction.

The New York litigation between the parties is ongoing, however. One piece of the ongoing dispute appears to be over whether the lawyer will be entitled to obtain a copy of the investigative report upon which the firm allegedly relied in deciding to terminate him and whether another sealed litigation matter in New York should be unsealed. Should you be interested, you can read the firm’s opposition to those efforts and the lawyer’s reply to that opposition at the buttons below.

Another post I wrote earlier this year was about a Georgia lawyer who was being disbarred and who provided an example of how difficult it can be in a disciplinary case to plead the Fifth Amendment without being visited with dire consequences for one’s license. She has also corresponded with me, but her interactions with me have involved demanding that I delete my prior post about her disbarment.

Given that my prior writing on her situation relied upon both the Georgia Supreme Court disbarment order and reporting by the ABA Journal online, I’m not concerned about any threats or demands to delete content. What I’ve written is clearly covered by fair report privilege as well as worthy of protection under my state’s anti-SLAPP statute.

But I did want to share a filing she has sent me that she has made with the United States Supreme Court because it raises issues of potential real importance in the world of lawyering and disciplinary defense.

As I wrote back at the time, even though disciplinary proceedings are treated as quasi-criminal, lawyers who plead the Fifth when trying to defend their licenses invariably have such refusal to testify held against them. This particular lawyer is now seeking relief from the U.S. Supreme Court to hear her case and to stay the disbarment, in part, on the basis of arguments over the correct application of In re Ruffalo and other U.S. Supreme Court decisions addressing the impact of asserting the Fifth Amendment on a disciplinary matter.

Her effort to have the Court take her case and overturn the disbarment also raises an issue that I talked about some during my recent Ethics Roadshow, the impact of the United States Supreme Court’s ruling in North Carolina State Dental Board v. FTC on the risks for unified bars of potential attacks based on antitrust liability when the majority of the decision-makers are active practicing lawyers.

I would imagine that the likelihood of the Court taking this lawyer’s case up is small, if for no other reason than that statement is true about any effort to get the Supreme Court to hear a case. But the motion seeking stay makes arguments that, if the Court does take the matters up, could make for interesting developments and it makes for interesting reading in terms of how those arguments are constructed as well.

You can read that U.S. Supreme Court motion filing at the button immediately below:

A companion piece.

As I inch ever closer to my 400th blogpost here, today’s offering is something of a companion piece to a post I wrote almost exactly 13 months ago that demonstrates what should be an obvious point, what is a very important point in the world of disciplinary defense but much less obvious, and at least one highly curious one.

This post involves, Sherri Jefferson, a Georgia lawyer who has now been disbarred over what was largely the same sort of conduct that got the Pennsylvania lawyer in trouble who was the subject of that earlier post.

I’ll let the headline from The ABA Journal online article – which is what first caught my eye – explain: “Lawyer disbarred after she’s accused of having romantic involvement with client and hiring detective to spy on him.”

It’s a pretty good headline but it omits, as headlines sometimes must for space reasons, the important thing that happened between romance and spying – the client stopped being a client and started dating another woman. This paragraph of the disbarment order gives the expanded details but still in a pretty succinct fashion:

Jefferson represented an individual from 2008 to 2010 in a custody modification action; during the representation, Jefferson and that individual were romantically involved. This relationship led to the filing of a disciplinary matter against Jefferson, but the matter was subsequently dismissed by this Court in 2014. During the pendency of that disciplinary matter, Jefferson’s former client began dating another woman and, following the dismissal of that matter, Jefferson hired a private investigator to conduct an investigation including surreptitious surveillance of the former client, his son, and the other woman. Additionally, Jefferson falsely disparaged the other woman to the woman’s employer, including making false and misleading statements about the custody proceeding.

The important, and obvious, point here being that bad ethical conduct from lawyers driven by jealousy is not exclusively the province of male lawyers. Jefferson also did not make matters any better for herself thereafter by making a number of provably false statements during criminal proceedings that arose after criminal warrants for stalking and defamation were filed against her.

Jefferson also made a strategic decision in the defense of her disciplinary case that tees up discussion of the other important, but less obvious, point, she pled the Fifth.

Now, sometimes that truly is the best (if not the only) option when the conduct is also potentially criminal conduct, but it almost always has damning consequences on the disciplinary side. The order of disbarment discusses in a couple of footnotes how taking the Fifth justified an adverse inference that the disciplinary allegations were essentially true. (These were relegated to footnotes because, by being uncooperative in certain aspects of the proceedings, Jefferson also was the subject of a sanctions order that essentially acted as a default judgment against her.)

Although much ink has been spilled in the past about what it means for disciplinary cases to be “quasi-criminal” in nature when it comes to Fifth Amendment rights, as a practical matter the “quasi” always does more work in that description than “criminal” does and lawyers who sit in judgment of other lawyers tend not to hesitate to draw negative conclusions about a lawyer who invokes the Fifth Amendment in proceedings about lawyer discipline.

And the final point, injected into the mix purely for the curiosity factor is that she apparently has also attempted to draw parallels to how she has been treated to events occurring on the national stage in a way that, I’m just guessing, probably will not carry the kind of weight she thinks.

That same ABA Journal article concludes with a quote from her – that apparently is made in a filing Jefferson has made to seek to stay and vacate the order of disbarment — “Akin to the Russian probe, this case is marred by abuse of prosecutorial misconduct, abuse of discretion and acts of complete denial of due process.”

Akin to the Russian probe … sigh.

But why though?

This past week the Tennessee Supreme Court proposed revisions to the rules of disciplinary enforcement that would transform disbarment into an irrevocable form of discipline in Tennessee and that would extend the potential length of a suspension from 5 years maximum to 10 years maximum.

Which leads me to the highly-technical title of this post: But why though?

Under Tennessee’s current approach, the maximum length of suspension is 5 years, and the only harsher punishment is disbarment. At present, in Tennessee, if you are disbarred it is not a “death penalty” as to your license because you can apply for reinstatement after 5 years has passed.

What is going on that would make anyone think this was a needed change in Tennessee?

I assume that if this change were enacted what it would mean is that some percentage of lawyers who are presently finding themselves disbarred might now instead just end up receiving suspensions in the 6-10 year range and some other percentage of lawyers who are already going to end up disbarred will still be disbarred but will have it be a new “disbarment is forever” standard.

But … why? I admittedly do not have access to all information about what is going on in the world of discipline in Tennessee, but I have some decent insight, and I’m simply not attuned to what the problem is that this seeks to fix.

Lawyers who get disbarred do not just get automatically reinstated after spending 5 years disbarred. They have to apply for reinstatement. They have the burden of proving that being permitted to return to the practice of law will not be detrimental to the public and the profession. Disciplinary counsel has the opportunity to zealously advocate against the requested reinstatement and marshal whatever evidence they can get their hands on to demonstrate why the person involved has not changed sufficiently to be given the privilege to practice law once again.

By the way, that is also how it works if you get a 5-year suspension (or a 3-year suspension or a 1-year suspension). You have to apply to be reinstated; you have to prove the required elements to demonstrate why you should be reinstated. If you can’t, you stay suspended for 6 or 7 or 8 or even 10 years until you can prove you should be able to practice law again. Based on other revisions to the rules not too long ago, that is also how it works even if you only get suspended for 30 days. You still have to get yourself reinstated by way of a petition.

Why doesn’t that work? Why does Tennessee need to add itself to the list of a handful or so other states to have permanent, irrevocable disbarment? Why does Tennessee need to double the length of available periods of suspension up to 10 years?

It has now been more than 10 years since our Court issued its decision in Hughes v. BPR but it certainly knows that it already has the precedent to deny a lawyer reinstatement if it thinks it should not happen even in the face of significant evidence of rehabilitation.

The statistics that are easily accessible also do not seem to indicate anything is horribly awry with the current approach. If you look at the most recent annual report from the TBPR, there were 21 lawyers disbarred, 18 lawyers receiving disciplinary suspensions (which would be anywhere between the 30-day minimum and the 5-year maximum), and 7 lawyers reinstated. If you look at the report for the year before that, there were 23 lawyers disbarred, 28 lawyers receiving suspensions, and 14 lawyers reinstated. The year before that, 23 disbarments, 18 suspensions, and only 5 lawyers managed to get reinstated.

And, also, while I think that what I’ve discussed above is the big and truly weighty question at play here, even if one decided there should be a change, why in the world would it ever make sense to pick a future date when disbarments would become permanent and not indicate that it is for disbarments arising from disciplinary proceedings commenced on or after that date?

The proposed revision would change Section 30.2 of Tenn. Sup. Ct. R. 9 to read as follows:

30.2. Individuals disbarred on or after July 1, 2020, are not eligible for reinstatement. Individuals disbarred under Rule 9 prior to July 1, 2020, may not apply for reinstatement until the expiration of at least five years from the effective date of the disbarment.

Why inject a questionable level of due process deficiency into this situation by proposing to revise the rule so that people who already have cases in the system would have a different meaning for the outcome of disbarment depending on whether it was complete by June 30, 2020? Lawyers on their way to disbarment are admittedly not sympathetic characters, but if they have begun being investigated and prosecuted under one set of rules, there seems no really good reason to change those rules on them in the middle of the process.

Tales of typos and punctuation problems.

I’ve written once or twice in the past about how questions of punctuation and typographical error can be unimportant when the issue amounts only to pedantry. Of course, punctuation can be very important. The stage phenomenon Hamilton has a good line or two about this involving “My dearest Angelica. With a comma after dearest, you’ve written … My dearest, Angelica” with this particular Schuyler sister noting how it changed the meeting and inquiring whether Alexander intended it.

There are more mundane, less lyrical examples that can be encountered in situations every day. For example, just playing around with punctuation can change entirely the meaning of two paragraphs that only differ by their punctuation:

  • Somehow I managed not to write anything for almost two weeks. I’m sick it happened. I’ll try to do better starting now.
  • Somehow, I managed. Not to write anything. For almost two weeks I’m sick. It happened. Ill! Try to do better. Starting now.

Today’s post hits two topics with nearly nothing in common other than the role that punctuation (or asserted typographical errors) plays in each one.

The ABA Journal directs all of our collective attention to this story of a Florida lawyer who has now been disbarred for breaking into his former law firm and stealing items. The headline of the article reads: “Lawyer disbarred after breaking into former law firm; blamed punctuation problem.” Now, setting aside the fact that the ABA managed not to properly use that semicolon there in that headline, the headline is one that seems like it is designed just to make you click through to see how in the world a punctuation problem could be a defense to breaking and entering.

Go ahead and click if you want, but [SPOILER ALERT] it’s not even close to a viable defense. I’d call the role of punctuation in that case mere pedantry but I think that might be insulting even to pedants. You can read more of the details in the order disbarring the lawyer here, but the flimsy reed to support some of his conduct apparently was that because his former law firm had incorporated its professional name – Barak Law Group, PA – without putting periods after the “P” and the “A,” then he could incorporate his own entity by the same name but with “P.A.” That, apparently, would give him ownership and domain over the assets of his former law firm.

He proceeded to hold himself out in public as the owner of the firm and to file hundreds of notices of liens as well as some other public record or court documents to try to cause money to be diverted in his direction.

Of course, the lawyer in question also must have come to realize that his magical argument about the missing periods wasn’t as powerful as he hoped. One of the pieces of misconduct spelled out against him in the proceedings involved surveillance video driving home the point that his punctuation arguments weren’t opening doors for him as he had hoped:

The video allegedly showed Brady and his brother backing a truck up to the Barak firm, tying a rope from the truck to the front door and using the car to rip the door open. The video showed Brady and his brother removing a safe and the computer server, Barak testified.

In the end, he got what Florida characterizes as permanent disbarment, and the article explains that a big factor in that was a complete lack of remorse for the misconduct. Or, more lyrically as the article spells out, he “clings to his justification for his actions with a ferocity that is quite disturbing.”

Shifting gears from playing with punctuation to quickly admitting and fixing a mistake in the form of a typographical error, the Tennessee Supreme Court put out an order yesterday that adopted a new revision to what was already a pretty brand new rule approving the concept of collaborative law practice.

The rule is Tennessee Supreme Court Rule 53. The fix had to be made to Section 16 of that rule and it involves replacing the word “record” with the word “agreement.” Now, strictly speaking, that isn’t exactly what I think of when I think of a typographical error. Having the rule say “agerment” or “egreement” would be a typographical error. Going with “record” when you meant to use “agreement” seems much more like just an error. But quibbling about that would truly be pedantry.

Without poring over the entirety of Rule 53, it is difficult to see what sort of difference it makes to have referenced a “record” rather than an agreement in the provision, but, I’ll paste it below so you can guess for yourself if you’d like:

Section 16. Confidentiality of Collaborative Family Law Communication. A collaborative family law communication is confidential to the extent agreed to by the parties in a signed record agreement. Evidence of conduct or statements made in the course of a collaborative family law proceeding shall be inadmissible to the same extent as conduct or statements are inadmissible under Tennessee Rule of Evidence 408.

I’m really only including reference to it because I wrote a little bit about this rule when it was adopted back in April 2019, and I don’t believe i raised one thought that I had about it at that time.

The concept of collaborative lawyering – which at least under the Tennessee rule is now embraced exclusively in the context of domestic relations law – is in some ways antithetical to a number of recognized aspects of the practice of law and in other ways is just something of an expansion of the lawyer as intermediary rule that we still have in Tennessee (RPC 2.2).

Now, the ABA long ago jettisoned Model Rule 2.2 but Tennessee is one of two U.S. jurisdictions to still have it. If the reference isn’t striking any bells for you, it is the rule that applies:

when the lawyer provides impartial legal advice and assistance to two or more clients who are engaged in a candid and non adversarial effort to accomplish a common objective with respect to the formation, conduct, modification, or termination of a consensual legal relation between them.

Thus, aspects of the role that lawyers play in a collaborative lawyering arena can be thought of a bit like if two different lawyers were engaged in a joint venture for the purpose of serving two clients as intermediaries. But, admittedly, that analogy is imperfect at best.

[P.S. I’m fully invoking Muphry’s Law here in advance of any errors anyone spots in this post.]

Nearly four years later… and I’m making that James Bond reference this time.

So, if any of you are still around these parts after I’ve gone some 12 days without writing any content, then you are in for me dredging someone up that I previously wrote about on June 30, 2015. An attorney named Rodger Moore.

Rodger Moore. And he was suspended for the practice of law for conduct that involved stealing adult beverages (wine) and also stealing the oil of olives. You know… olives… the garnish that goes in a martini.

I guess back in the halcyon days of this venture I considered myself above making a James Bond reference? Well, I’m four years older now and don’t consider myself above much of anything I guess. So…here goes.

Rodger Moore is no longer licensed to bill.

Also, Roger Moore was not the best Bond, but this Rodger Moore was not the best lawyer.

The need for just a bit of “dry” humor for today’s post is in order because nothing else about the story is humorous. And, in fact, while not doing so in a fashion that is at all effective for his case, Mr. Moore raises a topic in the press that is not deserving of being milked for humor of any sort — the problem of depression in our profession.

You (like me) may have seen the story in The ABA Journal about the fact that after previously being suspended for failure to disclose certain pieces of his criminal past, Mr. Moore has now been disbarred for trying to charge over $10,000 to a client he had promised to represent for free. If you’d care to read the full Ohio opinion disbarring him from practice, you can get it here.

In short-form version, a woman who qualified for legal aid representation going through a divorce agreed to switch lawyers to Moore, after Moore sent an email saying he would represent her for free. Shortly thereafter, he sent her an invoice for $9,500 but then told her she didn’t have to pay that but that he was going to seek to have the court award his fee against her husband. He never did that but did send her an $11,000 promissory note and seek to have her sign that. Eventually, he had to bow out of her case because of his suspension from practice (but not until first trying to appear in court for her the day after he was suspended). He then got an attorney he shared office space with to take over the representation. That lawyer confirmed to her that he was providing the services for free but, ultimately, filed a lawsuit against her, representing Mr. Moore’s firm, seeking to force her to pay pursuant to the promissory note.

Based on his past history, his failure to appear on his own behalf in the disciplinary case, and the fact that he tried at the eleventh-hour to proffer up his license to retire or resign from practice rather than being disciplined, the Ohio Supreme Court decided to permanently disbar him.

In a real plot twist, Mr. Moore has communicated extensively with The ABA Journal as their article reveals and shared with them a draft letter that he was thinking about sending to the Ohio Supreme Court to complain about how he was treated.

Now, I’m fortunate enough that I do not suffer from depression. As I’ve revealed before anxiety is my issue. There is no question that problems with depression are rampant in our profession and little doubt that mental health issues continue to be stigmatized, hidden, and not treated effectively when it comes to lawyers.

I don’t have the necessary clinical training to know the first thing about whether Mr. Moore’s narrative could be explained by depression but I do know that the opinion reveals that he continued to practice while suspended for a pretty significant period of time, represented himself, and that both of those facts likely played a role in his ultimate disbarment. Both of those facts are the kind of things that are also not inconsistent with side effects of depression.

Mr. Moore may not be a very good messenger for the underlying message of the continued need to preach about the awareness of mental health issues, and his claimed beef that the disciplinary process should take depression into account as a mitigating factor misses the mark because nearly all states do – through application of the ABA Standards for Lawyer Misconduct – take mental health issues into account.

But he is, albeit maybe just inadvertently, a good messenger for making an important, and hard, point. Those kinds of proceedings can only take such things into account if the lawyer is able to disclose them so that they can be considered. Mr. Moore pretty clearly didn’t disclose any issues with depression at the time of the proceedings themselves but, because of the nature of such things and, if he was representing himself, if he really was suffering from untreated depression he might not have been able to bring himself to do so.

Any lawyer interested in reading up on issues of attorney wellness can now find a variety of good resources online. Perhaps the most recent report issued by a state bar comes out of Virginia and you can read that one here if you are so inclined.

Discipline for entities? Not the answer to any relevant future questions.

It appears somehow that life and practice left me with nothing to post for more than a week now. If I have any readers left, today’s post will be a relatively quick one.

I managed to write a couple ofposts now about one topic that was covered at the APRL mid-year meeting in Las Vegas earlier this year. In keeping with the spirit of not having things that happen in Vegas stay in Vegas this time around, Jayne Reardon a Chicago lawyer who participated in a different panel discussion has put out a new post about the topic of law firm (or entity) regulation over at the Illinois Supreme Court Commission on Professionalism blog, 2Civility. You can read it here.

Now, I do not disagree that aspects of the trend of entity regulation that is taking place with respect to law firms in other countries may have some utility here in the states IF we were to remove barriers to how lawyers and people without law licenses could work together to practice law. Until that happens, it simply isn’t something that is helpful to addressing actual issues. And particularly not if the focus is on discipline.

As the article does acknowledge, the disciplinary rules already provide a means for having members of management and partners in law firms on the hook for discipline in certain circumstances through RPC 5.1. I consider that tool to be more than enough regulation from the disciplinary side of things for many of the examples that Jayne offers in her article to be addressed.

That being said, I absolutely agree that if we could start to see movement toward a more proactive system — like the PMBR course that Jayne discusses that is being implemented in Illinois – then I’d be all for exploring how to move toward a regulatory framework that looks more toward regulation of the entities in which many lawyers practice than merely targeting individual attorneys for discipline.

But, we don’t. We live in a world in which individual attorneys get targeted for discipline. So, today, I’d suggest we all take some time to listen to what this recently disbarred attorney has to say today.

Friday Follow Up: Despite “Full Stop,” lawyer still might not stop.

Last year, I wrote about the curious case of a Tennessee lawyer who demonstrated that while it is difficult to get disbarred over a conflict, it is not impossible. You do have to try really, really hard though.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the lawyer’s Quixotic continuing violation of the First Rule of Holes had at least one more wrinkle to it as the Tennessee Court of Appeals revealed in an opinion issued yesterday.

In addition to the all of the various activities that the lawyer in question continued to pursue, despite having been suspended from the practice of law, mentioned in the order of disbarment entered last year, there was one other pretty remarkable one that didn’t get discussed in that order.

In November 2017, the lawyer filed a petition for contempt against the receiver and a number of attorneys back in the original 2002 case at the trial court purporting to act as a pro se party. As disciplinary counsel across the country will gladly tell you, one frustrating fact of life even after disbarring a lawyer is that the lawyer can still file lawsuits representing themselves – and they often do against those that they believe wronged them in the disciplinary process. The problem for this lawyer though was that he wasn’t actually a party to the litigation, just prior counsel of record, and he didn’t undertake any sort of filing to seek to intervene and be made a party in the underlying litigation.

The relatively short appellate opinion issued yesterday details that the trial court astutely figured out that this was a problem and that the lawyer’s conduct was “subterfuge to circumvent his suspension from the practice of law.” It also succinctly addresses and rejects the “somewhat perplexing” arguments the lawyer continued to make on appeal to justify his conduct. Perhaps tellingly in trying to determine whether this will be the last of the efforts, the lawyer attempted in the appeal of that matter to argue that the orders of the Tennessee Supreme Court suspending him from practice were not valid.

The saddest part of that whole story still seems to be that, prior to this more than 15-year period of losing the plot over this one piece of litigation, the attorney had no prior disciplinary problems.

Tennessee, of course, is not alone in having these kinds of stories. In fact, you can go read about a very remarkable new one out of Pennsylvania here if you so desire.

That lawyer is a former state legislator with a clean prior disciplinary record over many years who has now been suspended from practice for 2 years over what the ABA Journal highlights was an inability “to take no for answer.” As the 46-page report that originally recommended a 5-year suspension explains pretty exhaustively, the underlying case that this lawyer refused to let die involved a client seeking less than $4,000 in damages who apparently was willing to ratify the litigiousness as a matter of “principle” but has now had to file bankruptcy.

There are many lessons that can be learned from the things that lawyer did wrong. While the most fundamentally important lesson might well be the need to have a sense of proportionality, I’d say (with all due apologies to Memphis’s own Justin Timberlake), that the story could be made more catchy if set to music and called “Can’t Stop Appealing.”