A tale of two ethics opinions.

So, I’ve made something of a habit of writing about ethics opinions.  Bad ones and good ones.  Mostly bad ones though.

As the trite – almost hackish – title of this post telegraphs, today I want to compare and contrast two recently released ethics opinions that manage to demonstrate the good that can come from a well done ethics opinion on the kind of issue that cries out for guidance in the form of an ethics opinion and the harm that can come from the kind of ethics opinion that likely should not be issued at all.

First, the good – an opinion issued out of Texas (which Karen Rubin has already written some about) that tackles a thorny problem that can confront a lawyer who has been retained by an insurance company to represent one of the company’s insureds in a piece of litigation.

The particular question addressed in Texas Opinion 669 is this:

Under the Texas Disciplinary Rules of Professional Conduct, may a lawyer retained by an insurance company notify the insurance company that the insured client he was assigned to represent is not cooperating in the defense of the client’s lawsuit?

The answer the Texas opinion provides, as difficult as it might be for insurance defense lawyers to hear, is “no.”  And, that answer is the correct one in any jurisdiction where the way the “tripartite” relationship is structured is that the lawyer’s only client is the insured and the insurance company is merely someone who is permitted to pay the lawyer’s bills as long as the lawyer complies with the state’s version of Model Rules 1.8(f) and 5.4(c).

In Tennessee, for example, RPC 1.8(f) specifically states one of the requirements for permitting the lawyer to accept compensation or direction from someone other than the client as being that “information relating to representation of a client is protected as required by RPC 1.6.” (Interestingly, the Texas opinion makes no mention of, or reference to, any of those kinds of rules but simply uses only its confidentiality rule to justify its analysis.)

The unfortunate opinion comes out of Virginia.  Virginia, you might recall, recently made a great leap forward in streamlining its rules on attorney advertising by revising its rules to look very much like the proposal circulated by APRL.  After adoption of those revisions, which became effective on July 1, 2017, Virginia’s ethical restrictions on advertising were largely capable of being described as simply prohibiting false or misleading communications.

Unfortunately, with the issuance of Legal Ethics Opinion 1750, Virginia manages less than a year later to undermine much of its progress by simply re-issuing and updating a lengthy opinion it has released on multiple past occasions that attempts, in advance and not in response to evaluating any particular real advertisement, to provide “guidance” about what kinds of advertising practices should still be avoided because of the potential to be considered to be misleading.

Unlike the Texas opinion, which answered a real dilemma that lawyers can face and for which definitive guidance can be provided, the Virginia opinion is the kind of ethics opinion designed almost exclusively to chill commercial speech.  Even if the guidance it gave on all of the topics it unilaterally decided to address were correct, it would still be the type of opinion that ought not be issued.

Certainly, it says some things that are undoubtedly true and fun to read about ways that a lawyer could engage in truthful advertising that would still be a problem because it would be misleading by omission.  I’ve spoken at seminars before where I’ve tried to make this point by saying that a lawyer whose ad truthfully proclaimed “I’ve never lost a jury trial,” but fails to also mention, for context, that they’ve never actually been involved in a jury trial is going to be at risk under any fair set of ethics rules.  The Virginia opinion grabs a slightly different version of this rich vein by explaining that a lawyer truthfully crowing that “They secured a $1 million jury verdict in case,” but not mentioning that it came only after turning down a $2 million settlement offer before trial would have disseminated a misleading advertisement.

But, even that guidance is something that really ought not be opined about unless there were an actual lawyer seeking actual guidance about just that sort of advertisement.

So many other pieces of the opinion are even worse, however.   Cautions about using actors in ads, hand-wringing over “no recovery, no fee” statements, and subtle digs at the use of testimonials by actual clients in the opinion appear to be rolled back out for no real reason other than to undermine the progress on lawyer regulation of advertising that had appeared to be achieved by streamlining the rules themselves.

On wellness: An indirect explanation of last week’s lack of content

Content is a hungry beast.  I starved it last week.  Apologies.

It was really a bit of a rough week to let things get away from me and not be able to write anything because there were actually quite a few things worth delving into that happened.  Perhaps the biggest piece of news actually came the same day that I had a speaking engagement at a CLE for in-house counsel here in Memphis.  There were California in-house lawyers with the hosting corporation who were attending remotely and I apologized at the outset for the fact that the differences between their rules and Tennesssee’s were going to make their next hour of time pretty wasted and, also, mentioned that they were certainly striving to change their rules but then saying that we all strive toward lots of things …  implying that they’d never manage to adopt rules that look like the ABA Model Rules.  That very same day California was able to announce that, after 17 years of effort to get there, rules patterned after the Model Rules are being adopted and will become effective in November 2018.  I can’t write much more about that in any meaningful way because I haven’t had time to study any of it, so I won’t.  You can read the first wave of information about what those rules will look like here.

I’m also not going to “write” today about any other ethics topic of interest.  But, I do want to ask for 6 minutes of your time today in the name of the important issue of attorney well-being to watch the clip you can get at the link I’m posting below. (I promise this is not me trying to “pivot to video.”)

The last 12 minutes of the 2017 Ethics Roadshow

I shared this story about me for the first time during last year’s Ethics Roadshow after staying quiet about it for more than 7 years.  If you didn’t attend, or you didn’t stay for the last 12 minutes, then you won’t have seen it.  It offers an indirect window into why there was no new content offered here last week.  (Also, I know I said I’m only asking for 6 minutes of your time.  My personal story starts at the 6 minute mark on the clip.)

All things considered, I remain very lucky.  Client obligations and family obligations come first in terms of what gets accomplished.  After that, speaking engagements and all that entails comes next.  Pretty much everything else, including this blog, ends up third on the depth chart.  Sometimes I’m not deep enough to get that far down in the chart.

Throwback Thursday on Cinco de Cuatro Eve

Usually the concept of Throwback Thursday should reach back farther than merely months ago, but I can’t resist given yesterday’s news.

So, I throw you back to this February 15, 2018 post.  And I do so to point out something about which I was right and something about which I was quite wrong  but with a twist.

At the end of that post, I wrote this:

Instead, I want to point out my own opinion, given the way a certain someone is known to operate, about how this likely went down:

Cohen is likely telling the truth about paying with funds of his for which no one reimbursed him, but omitting the most salient detail.  He probably wasn’t “reimbursed” by anyone after making the payment because he was probably provided those funds, pretty much immediately in advance of the transaction, as some sort of bonus or even a “gift” with the tacit understanding about what he was expected to do with those funds — purchase Ms. Daniels’s silence.

This was me sort of making things too complicated when I should have stuck with simple.  And, yet, I wasn’t too far off the mark.

Earlier in the post, I wrote this:

(c) It also is quite likely that Cohen’s version of the events is probably not 100% the truth, key details have been omitted, and it could very well, if nothing else, be a violation of a rule such as RPC 8.4(c).

That bit, at least if you are now willing to believe another lawyer for the same client over the earlier lawyer for the same client and the client himself now explaining in a series of tweets clearly written by another lawyer – though one who either can’t spell “role” or who knows enough to know his client can’t spell “role,” was pretty much spot on.  You can read a pretty decent, condensed version of the roller coaster events of that last 12-18 hours – including links to a deeper dive, in this The ABA Journal piece.

The fact that we now know more about this situation because the latest in a parade of what may go down in history as the worst high-profile legal team ever assembled blurted out this latest on cable news leads me to my segue.

For many reasons, Jeffrey Tambor ought to play the 45th President when the movie of this unprecedented period of American history is filmed.

And, on that note, and in news entirely unrelated to legal ethics but about which I’m even more excited and nerdy than I am about legal ethics generally, tomorrow, on Cinco de Cuatro, the creator of Arrested Development is releasing an entirely re-cut and transformed version of the 4th season of this incredible show.  If you’re interested [Ron Howard voice: they were not interested], you can read all about that development here.

A short post-mortem for Tennessee’s proposed RPC 8.4(g)

With the flood of comments in opposition, and particularly the fact that the Attorney General of our state felt the need to file not just one but two comments in opposition, the unsuccessful end of the effort to convince the Tennessee Supreme Court to adopt a version of RPC 8.4(g) has felt inevitable for the last month or so.

Yesterday, the inevitable end came in the form of this one-page order from the Tennessee Supreme Court rejecting the petition.

I’m personally very grateful for the handful of entities that lent their support to the TBA/BPR petition which included not just specialty bar associations such as The Ben F. Jones Chapter of the National Bar Association and the Association for Women Attorneys, but also the Memphis Bar Association, the Knoxville Bar Association, and the Lawrence County Bar Association.

I’m not inclined to spend much space here discussing just how deeply disappointed I am in the outcome.  Given that I’m not likely to be the victim of any of the harassment and discrimination we were really aiming to protect against with this proposal, my disappointment is, at best, vicarious.  There are other lawyers in Tennessee who this impacts more directly.  Lawyers who have been told by many of those who filed comments that they are fair targets for disparagement as long as the lawyer disparaging them is not representing a client.

I wrote more than an 18 months ago about how skeptical I was that a state like Tennessee would adopt a black-letter rule addressing harassment and discrimination.  Admittedly, I let myself get a bit too optimistic along the way.  I remain convinced that the sentiments expressed by the most strident lawyers (mostly male, and nearly entirely Caucasian) who submitted comments opposing the proposal do not represent the future of our profession in this state even though they prevailed in the present.

If you have the stomach for plowing through knowing that some of them truly serve as only a forum for attorneys who look like me to sound off with typo-filled paeans to a Limbaugh-esque worldview, I will again state that reading through the comments is an educational experience.

If you’d rather not, I can sum up alot of them with the following TL/dr:

“When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” – original source to quote a bit unknown as explained here.

 

Awesome post. Except for the part that isn’t.

There is an awful lot to like and agree with in this post from Dan Lear, one of the folks who have been the face of Avvo for quite some time.  But there is a piece of it that is just simply wrong, and while it would be hyperbole to say it is dangerously wrong, it certainly is wrong in a way that lawyers don’t need to have reinforced.  Lear writes:

Do the RPCs apply when an attorney isn’t working as a lawyer? First, bar associations don’t regulate endeavors that aren’t the practice of law, especially awesome ones. While a lawyer may choose to apply the RPCs outside of the practice of law, the bar doesn’t regulate lawyers as a landlord, an expert witness, or even a restaurant owner.

Even understanding the larger point Lear is attempting to make, this is utterly and simply wrong.  ABA Model Rule 8.4 – with language that is tracked in I believe pretty much every U.S. jurisdiction — does not limit itself to situations in which a lawyer is only representing a client and also does not draw a bright line around a lawyer “being a lawyer,”

The easiest, and most obvious, part of the rule that makes the point is RPC 8.4(b) which gets lawyers in ethical trouble for certain criminal acts even having nothing to do with, or not happening while, they are working as a lawyer.

But there are two other, more broadly problematic ways that RPC 8.4 does extend to, and actually govern, the conduct of people who happen to also be lawyers while they are doing things that they don’t think of as working as a lawyer know matter how much they may subjectively think they are being “awesome.”

Those two other pieces are RPC 8.4(a) and (c).  When combined those pieces of the rule read:

It is professional misconduct for a lawyer to . . .

(a) violate or attempt to violate [the ethics rules], knowingly assist or induce another to do so, or do so through the acts of another . . . [or]

(c) engage in conduct involving dishonesty, fraud, deceit or misrepresentation….

I’ve often joked about 8.4(c) as being the only ethics rule in the books that has to mean something other than what it actually says because, as written, it would make it professional misconduct for me to answer questions from children about Christmas presents or bluff while playing poker or dive to get a call while playing over-35 soccer on Monday nights.  I’ve also, once before and also in response to something written by a lawyer more famous than I, advocated that it shouldn’t apply to a lawyer operating a parody account on social media.   But there are aspects of how that rule truly does apply to dishonesty by lawyers, even when not acting as lawyers, which are quite serious.  Easy examples from the recent past involve deans and others affiliated with administrative positions at law schools lying about statistics to improve enrollment numbers and the like.

And, perhaps the most perplexing and concerning of the examples Lear offers of things a lawyer could do where they wouldn’t be bound by the ethics rules is serving as an expert witness.  I’ve been fortunate enough to serve as an expert on more than a handful of occasions in my career, and, suffice it to say, RPC 8.4 is not the only ethics rule that will still apply to the lawyer when serving in that capacity.

An object lesson about “staying in your lane.”

Prominent technology blogger, Robert Ambrogi, has taken to Above the Law to criticize the latest ABA Formal Ethics Opinion.  In addition to attempting to savage it over being somehow untimely since lawyers have been blogging for almost 20 years, his primary substantive criticism of the opinion is that it makes no sense for an ethics rule to prohibit a lawyer from speaking or writing (or blogging or Tweeting) publicly about information that is already in the public record.

Ambrogi’s criticism is a bland (and perhaps satisfying at a surface level) kind of thing to say, but it reveals that the author is not someone who has spent a bunch of time working with, or thinking about, the ethics rules.

In the nature and spirit of “open letters to people who are unlikely to read them,” I offer this primer to Mr. Ambrogi on why our profession has crafted an ethics rule that does, in fact, err on the side of prohibiting lawyers from further discussing things even that are public record without our client’s consent or the need to do so to further the representation.

Dear Mr. Ambrogi:

Let’s pretend that I was currently representing a prominent legal technology blogger in a divorce proceeding.  This is, admittedly, a hard thing to pretend as I don’t do family law, but we’ll push on nonetheless.

In order to secure the desired divorce for the blogger, and because of the truly toxic nature of the blogger’s relationship with their significant other, I end up having to share a lot of deeply personal, highly intimate, and potentially quite embarrassing information in the complaint for divorce not only about the blogger but about the blogger’s significant other and that person’s various other romantic partners.

Now that happens in a state where it is very difficult to establish the need for court filings to be sealed, thus the complaint for divorce is a public record upon filing.  It also occurs in a state where, while it is true that court records are public records, they are not well-organized online and are not all that easy to locate.

Thus, my client knows that what is in the complaint is a matter of public record, but they are certainly hopeful that the information will not be widely disseminated and that these intimate and embarrassing items are only ever learned and read by people directly associated with the court process.

Now, if your approach to the ethics rule on confidentiality were what our profession had adopted, then I’d be free at a cocktail party, or on a blog, or in a Tweet to share the wild information about my client’s personal life because it was a matter of public record, and I could do so simply to entertain those around me.

I would hope at this point we would both agree that would be a bad approach for the ethics rules governing our profession to take.

Thus, to protect against that kind of ability to disclose information, the rules are crafted to start from the premise that lawyers ought not to talk publicly about their client’s matters unless they have the client’s consent or some legitimate reason to do so.  (This includes not only further communications impliedly authorized to carry out the representation but situations where it becomes necessary to make disclosures, for example, for the lawyer to defend themselves in other proceedings.  If the blogger’s significant other turned around and filed a defamation lawsuit against me over the publication in the complaint about the intimate details of that person’s life, the ethics rules would allow me to disclose information reasonably necessary to defend myself.)

So, as that ends my rant, I will conclude by saying that I still stand by (another writing that you are unlikely to read) my prior take that Formal Opinion 480 is a good one.

 

Another good opinion from the ABA SCEPR

This was not what I originally planned to write about today, but … here we are all the same.

Today, the ABA Standing Committee on Ethics and Professional Responsibility released a new opinion and, because it relates to social media, it is generating a good deal of discussion online.  It is being rolled out and discussed as being of interest to lawyers who blog or tweet or otherwise participate in social media, but it actually is yet another opinion sending a message that all lawyers need to remember.  That is because it is another opinion from this body – in a relatively short period of time – emphasizing how broad the scope of client confidentiality is under Model Rule 1.6.

The key piece of the opinion worth knowing (mostly because it applies to lawyer communications in just about any forum or medium of any sort ranging from cocktail parties, to CLEs, to social media) is this:

The salient point is that when a lawyer participates in public commentary that includes client information, if the lawyer has not secured the client’s informed consent or the disclosure is not otherwise impliedly authorized to carry out the representation, then the lawyer violates Rule 1.6(a). Rule 1.6 does not provide an exception for information that is “generally known” or
contained in a “public record.” Accordingly, if a lawyer wants to publicly reveal client information, the lawyer must comply with Rule 1.6(a).

From my experience, this is a point about which lawyers cannot be reminded nearly enough.  And, it most certainly is not just a social media issue.  Though I have, in the past and far-too-snarkily written about the problem as it crops up on social media.

Interestingly, I spent most of my day today sitting through CLE programming and, perhaps coincidentally, it was the first time in a long time that I actually heard a presenter acknowledge before telling a story about a case that they had actually obtained their client’s permission to talk about the case.

Far too often, I hear lawyer presenters relate information about something they are working on at a CLE by providing so much detail about a situation that it would not take much effort at all to immediately figure out who they are actually talking about.  This latest ABA Formal Opinion also offers a helpful refresher on the problem with doing that:

A violation of Rule 1.6(a) is not avoided by describing public commentary as a“hypothetical” if there is a reasonable likelihood that a third party may ascertain the identity or situation of the client from the facts set forth in the hypothetical. Hence, if a lawyer uses a hypothetical when offering public commentary, the hypothetical should be constructed so that there is no such likelihood.

That escalated … but not all that quickly.

You’ve likely already read something this week about the Florida lawyer who was disbarred last month as the culmination of his “cumulative and escalating misconduct,” so I don’t know that I have anything truly unique to offer about the situation.

But because I so clearly remember talking about the first event in his series of bad behavior in seminars I did about 8 years ago, I feel compelled to write about his disbarment.

Back in 2010, an opinion came out that suspended Robert Ratiner for 60 days over an incident involving a highly aggressive and inappropriate reaction to another lawyer putting a sticker onto his laptop during a deposition.

That case garnered some substantial legal media attention because the Florida Supreme Court described Ratiner’s conduct as something that ought to be viewed in professionalism courses to teach lawyers how not to behave.  In that incident which happened in 2007, Ratiner responded to the other lawyer’s placement of the exhibit sticker by first trying to physically run around the table to where the lawyer was and then, instead, forcefully leaned over the table, angrily yelled at the other lawyer, and through the wadded up sticker at him.

Between that incident and the latest, Ratiner received a three-year suspension in 2015 flowing from more litigation behavior evidencing problems both with inter-personal skills and with recognizing and respecting physical boundaries.  In that case, Ratiner first called opposing counsel a “dominatrix” during a document review session and, on the following day, tried to grab a document away from her which prompted the involvement of a security guard.  That event happened in October 2009.

The February 2018 order of disbarment (which you can read here), unlike the prior two incidents, involved conduct inside the courtroom.  Ratiner was accused of loudly kicking the table of other counsel during a hearing, saying “lie, lie, lie” during the cross-examination of one of his law partners, and wrinkling and throwing documents in court.

The ethics rule Ratiner ran afoul of is Florida’s slight variation on the traditional Model Rule 8.4(d) about not engaging in conduct prejudicial to the administration of justice.  That rule in Florida reads:  “A lawyer shall not engage in conduct in connection with the practice of law that is prejudicial to the administration of justice, including to knowingly, or through callous indifference, disparage, humiliate, or discriminate against litigants, jurors, witnesses, court personnel, or other lawyers.”

Perhaps remarkably, the initial proposed discipline for this event was another 3 year suspension rather than disbarment.  The Florida Supreme Court decided, however, that disbarment was required.

As the Florida Supreme Court explained:

Ratiner has denied the existence of such objectionable, disrespectful conduct over the years, even in the face of videotaped evidence and witness testimony. His argument or belief that said conduct constitutes the zealous representation of his clients is completely unacceptable.

[snip]

In cases where lawyers have previously been disciplined for engaging in misconduct of a similar nature, the Court has generally taken an incremental approach in imposing discipline, increasing the severity of discipline in each instance.

[snip]

Ratiner’s intentional and egregious misconduct continues to demonstrate an attitude that is wholly inconsistent with professional standards, and there is no indication that he is willing to follow the professional ethics of the legal profession.

Other than what is set out in the various opinions, I do not know anything more about this lawyer’s situation.  Although none of the opinions include anything to clearly signal underlying, treatable problems plaguing this lawyer,  this certainly feels like a sad story that has issues of lawyer wellness at its heart.

It also involved a pattern of conduct spread out over a fairly long time (though not as long as it feels at first when you have 10 years elapsing between the sticker-throwing incident that prompted the first, short suspension and the disbarment) when you think about it in terms of “escalation.” Ratiner practiced law for 28 years before being disbarred.  Almost 4 years passed between the deposition sticker row and the table-kicking courtroom incident.

Nevertheless, it’s as good a reason as any to remind people in our profession to add this report from the National Task Force on Lawyer Well Being to your reading pile and to actually read it.  Particularly, when news in the world of lawyering brings developments like this shooting — a situation which I would say truly involves quick and very scary escalation — and the notion that this odious lawyer is out there representing our profession to the public.

Preparing for disbarment.

The panel I was fortunate enough to participate in at the meeting of the Association of Professional Responsibility Lawyers in Vancover earlier this month has received a very good write up appearing in a Bloomberg Law publication.  You can go read it here.  We talked about a number of things other than the looming GDPR deadline, but that is what is the focus of the article.  (I do promise to write more about GDPR issues before that May 2018 deadline rolls around, but not today.)

One of the very good panel presentations I had the chance to observe at the APRL mid-year meeting involved representing lawyers in disbarment cases and how difficult it can be to manage your client when you know what’s coming – they are going to be disbarred – but they do not yet realize that’s the future (or they are still struggling mightily to convince themselves it will play out differently.)  There are certainly lawyers who deserve to be disbarred, but even those lawyers, if they’ve hired a lawyer for their matter, deserve the best advice and guidance their own lawyer can provide them about their situation.  It was a very good panel discussion and offered some good insight about the kind of skill sets lawyers who handle such matters need to possess.

Last week was a pretty big week in Tennessee for removing lawyers from the rolls as the Tennessee Supreme Court issued two opinions disbarring two lawyers in largely different scenarios.  The two prominent things they have in common are: (1) as with lots of disbarment scenarios there were conversions of client funds from trust in the mix of problematic conduct; and (2) they both involved what should have been viewed as quite obviously doomed arguments to try to have an order of disbarment be made retroactive to a much earlier date.

One of the things that lawyers representing lawyers ought to recognize – and that was at least something of an implicit theme in parts of the panel discussion – is that, sometimes, the best representation you can provide involves helping your client get disbarred as quickly as possible.  In jurisdicitons where disbarment is permanent, that isn’t necessarily true at all.  But, in jurisdictions like Tennessee, where a lawyer can apply for reinstatement even after being disbarred, but cannot do so until at least five years has passed, getting to disbarment quickly can be incredibly important.  (And, to be clear, I have no insight into the handling of this particular case.  The lawyer for the lawyer might have been trying to do everything possible in that regard and might have even made it perfectly clear to the lawyer client that the price of continued appeal was that the disbarment clock was not going to start for many years.)

One of the two opinions – likely quite rightly – describes the conduct of that lawyer as seeming to be “more bungling than nefarious” so this post will focus instead on the case that pretty clearly drips with nefariousness.  You can, of course, go read the full opinion here, but here’s a very quick and dirty, bullet point version of the wrongdoing:

  • The lawyer convinced someone to give him more than $5 million for a financial venture, promised the funds would be held in escrow and not moved without the person’s permission, and promised payouts to the person from the venture to begin within 30 days.
  • The lawyer did not keep the funds in the manner promised, made no payouts, only returned $1 million of the deposited funds, never provided an accounting to the person of what happened to the money, pulled those funds out for a variety of purposes, and then falsified accounting records filed with a court to show the money was still in trust when it wasn’t.
  • The lawyer defied a court order requiring transfer of whatever funds were still in the trust account to the Clerk of Court for holding and instead directed the bank to transfer those funds to a bank account of an employee of his law firm.
  • At around the same time, the lawyer took a $1,500 retainer from a client. wrote one letter, and then stopped communicating with the client, and didn’t refund the money.
  • A year before those situations, the lawyer separately got a payment of $5,000 from a client, did very little work, and then stopped communicating with the client altogether and ignored counsel for the opposing party, and did not refund the client’s money.
  • Later, after a temporary suspension had been entered and while on disability inactive status (NB: the only apparent claimed defense for any of the above hinged on a claim to have suffered a head injury in an attack involving being hit on the head with a metal pipe.), the lawyer worked as an assistant for another attorney (NB: back at a time when in TN we did not have the “can’t sweep the floor” rule I wrote about here.) and scammed $10,000 out of one of that attorney’s clients based on false statements that the attorney wanted the payments.

I mean, if you have a decent amount of experience with the disciplinary system, you know the end of this story once you’ve gotten up to speed with the facts:  That’s the tale of a lawyer who will be disbarred.

It’s also the tale of a lawyer who will have a very, very hard time ever being able to be reinstated to the practice of law in the future and whose best hope of reinstatement ever coming to fruition likely turns as much on what they do during the disbarment proceedings as what they do to rehabilitate themselves and become a different person over the following five years.

This is also the story of a lawyer who needed someone to remind him that there are things you can do on hills besides die on them.

If that kind of reminder was given in the form of legal advice, it certainly wasn’t followed.  Instead, a really big hill was located.

The primary argument pursued on the appeal of the case to the Tennessee Supreme Court was that the date of disbarment should have been made retroactive back some 6 to 7 years earlier.  Setting aside just the pure legal flaws associated with trying to argue that the concept of disbarment (rather than suspension) can be made retroactive to a period of ongoing temporary suspension, the act of pushing this argument in this case required someone to stand in front of the Court and ask it to enter an order of disbarment for the above conduct but agree that the lawyer could immediately turn around and apply for reinstatement.

Hope may spring eternal and all that, but that’s such an obviously untenable position that I would have hoped no lawyer would build an entire appeal around it.

In the end, as indicated above, this is the story of a lawyer that likely has no realistic chance at ever being reinstated, but, by persisting on appeal long after the ghost should have been given up (and while having been sidelined from practice for the last 7+ years), any effort at reinstatement cannot be pursued until 2023.

 

 

An incredibly unhelpful ethics opinion from Colorado

Were you looking for something that is very well-written but entirely unhelpful to your needs as a lawyer?  Well, you’ve come to the right place today.

Wait, I now see how that paragraph could be misconstrued in an entirely unflattering way and as an inadvertent passing of judgment on this whole blog.  Obviously, I didn’t mean that.  After all, I said “well-written.”

Anyway, what I’m actually intending to refer to is Colorado Formal Ethics Opinion 134 which was enacted in January 2018 but which was brought to my attention by a loyal reader of this space.  It likely came into his path because of some treatment in the ABA/BNA Lawyers’ Manual which I admittedly have not read beyond their headline and lead sentence, which is as follows:

Advance Agreements on Joint Settlement OK, Colorado Bar Says

A lawyer who represents multiple clients in a case can prepare for them, with informed consent, an agreement stating that a majority vote controls for settlement offers, a recent Colorado bar ethics opinion says.

That is one way to spin the Colorado opinion and draw peoples attention, but studying the opinon itself reveals that the picture being painted is far too rosy because a more fair introduction to the opinion would be:

Advance Agreements on Joint Settlement OK to Memorialize But Lawyer Can’t Enforce It in the Future, Colorado Bar Says

A lawyer who represents multiple clients in a case can prepare for them, with informed consent, an agreement stating that a majority vote controls for settlement offers, a recent Colorado bar ethics opinion says, but what would be the point?  The same opinion explains that if any of the clients later rejects the settlement and refuses to abide by the majority vote then the lawyer doesn’t have settlement authority and can’t continue to represent everybody.

I’m not kidding.  That is the TL/DR version of Colorado Formal Opinion 134.  Don’t believe me, go read it for yourself.

Now, Colorado may feel like it has given a helpful opinion because it distinguishes its opinion from some others by saying it is perfectly ethical for a lawyer to participate in preparing an agreement along these lines for jointly represented clients and explaining how Rule 1.8(g) is not triggered until some future point when a settlement is on the table for consideration.  But . . . geez.  From a practical perspective, it’s an exercise in navel-gazing because of this paragraph of the opinion:

If multiple clients agree in advance on a majority-decision rule for how they will respond to an aggregate settlement proposal, but one client in the future refuses to follow the majority’s decision, the dissenting client might be in breach of that agreement.  The other clients might have claims against the dissenting client.  This circumstance creates an unwaivable conflict for their joint lawyer due to the dispute between in the dissenting client and the other clients.  The lawyer may not take sides in the dispute, and may not seek to enforce the agreement againts the dissenting client, on behalf of the majority clients, by compelling the dissenting client to settle.  The lawyer might need to withdraw from the joint representation entirely.

Because of that, it seems hard to understand how any good Colorado lawyer armed with this opinion could ever respond to an inquiry by joint clients about putting together a majority-rule agreement with any advice other than:

Yeah, you don’t want me to go through all of that.  If anyone changes their mind later, I can’t enforce it and you probably just end up in additional litigation maybe over breaching the contract and you all just end up having to hire more and different lawyers.  So, let’s just wait until we have something in front of us to think about on settlement some day and then work it out if and when that day ever comes around.