After
a
seven-year
hiatus,
I’m
thrilled
to
return
as
a
columnist
for
Above
the
Law,
covering
the
solo/small
firm
beat.
So
much
has
changed
in
the
years
since
I
last
wrote
here.
In
addition
to
the
celebrity
status
that
I’ve
garnered
since
this
column
catapulted
me
to
a
guest
appearance
on
the
Daily
Show,
the
legal
profession
itself
has
experienced
its
own
glow-up.
The
pandemic
made
remote
practice
mainstream,
artificial
intelligence
is
reshaping
everything
from
research
to
drafting,
and
younger
lawyers
are
demanding
more
humane
work
environments.
But one
concept
remains
constant:
starting
a
law
firm
is
a
radical
act.
Here’s
why.
As
the
daughter
of
a
chemist,
I’ve
always
been
intrigued
by
free
radicals.
These
molecules,
with
their
unpaired
electrons,
disrupt
equilibrium.
Free
radicals’
instability
can
cause
damage
linked
to
a
wide
range
of
diseases,
but
it
can
also
be
harnessed
to
boost
immunity
and
generate
energy.
Lawyers
who
strike
out
on
their
own
function
in
much
the
same
way.
By
leaving
the
safety
of
a
paycheck
or
the
legitimacy
of
a
firm
name,
they
destabilize
the
profession’s
status
quo.
They
create
new
client
relationships,
develop
new
practice
models,
and
expand
meaningful
access
to
justice.
Their
instability
is
also
their
power.
For
decades,
solos
and
small-firm
lawyers
have
been
treated
as
afterthoughts
—
lawyers
who
couldn’t
make
it
elsewhere.
Biglaw
was
cast
as
the
center
of
prestige
and
talent;
solos
as
routine
and
unremarkable.
But
choosing
ownership
is
not
a
fallback,
it
is
always
a
choice
(hence
the
title
of
my
book,
Solo
by
Choice).
Launching
a
law
firm
is
a
lawyer’s
way
of
saying:
I
will
not
tolerate
inequitable
hiring,
rigid
hierarchies,
toxic
firm
culture,
or
ceding
my
talent
to
causes
I
cannot
abide.
It’s
claiming
space
in
a
profession
that
doesn’t
always
want
to
make
room.
In
science,
free
radicals
are
powerful
because
of
their
instability.
That’s
what
drives
their
reactivity.
In
law,
instability
pushes
lawyers
to
start
firms:
losing
a
job,
clashing
with
firm
culture,
or
refusing
to
tolerate
low
pay
and
long
hours.
That
“unpaired
state”
generates
the
energy
to
try
something
different.
And
what
looks
like
weakness
—
being
cut
loose,
being
tired
of
the
grind
—
is
actually
the
spark
that
powers
new
models,
new
niches,
new
precedents
and
new
ways
of
practicing.
Like
their
chemical
counterparts,
lawyer-founders
face
resistance.
Institutions
brand
them
reckless
or
unprepared.
But
that
pushback
only
underscores
how
destabilizing
—
and
therefore
how
radical
—
ownership
really
is.
By
choosing
independence,
solos
upend
hierarchies
that
deserve
to
be
unsettled
and
renew
and
diversify
the
profession
by
creating
alternative
paths.
In
every
sense,
law
firm
ownership
is
a
radical
act.
And
one
I’ll
never
tire
of
covering
—
both
at
my
home
blog,
MyShingle.com
and
once
again,
here.
Carolyn
Elefant
is
one
of
the
country’s
most
recognized
advocates
for
solo
and
small
firm
lawyers.
She
founded
MyShingle.com
in
2002,
the
longest-running
blog
for
solo
practitioners,
where
she
has
published
thousands
of
articles,
resources,
and
guides
on
starting,
running,
and
growing
independent
law
practices.
She
is
the
author
of
Solo
by
Choice,
widely
regarded
as
the
definitive
handbook
for
launching
and
sustaining
a
law
practice,
and
has
spoken
at
countless
bar
events
and
legal
conferences
on
technology,
innovation,
and
regulatory
reform
that
impacts
solos
and
smalls.
Elefant
also
develops
practical
tools
like
the
AI
Teach-In
to
help
small
firms
adopt
AI
and
she
consistently
champions
reforms
to
level
the
playing
field
for
independent
lawyers.
Alongside
this
work,
she
runs
the
Law
Offices
of
Carolyn
Elefant,
a
national
energy
and
regulatory
practice
that
handles
selective
complex,
high-stakes
matters.