In
dinosaur
days,
if
a
lawyer
or
a
judge
had
any
publicity,
it
was
frowned
upon.
The
best
lawyers
were
always
behind
the
scenes,
doing
what
they
did
best,
without
any
fanfare
or
flacks
(they
are
called
publicists
today).
There
were
stunning
verdicts,
trial
lawyers
at
the
top
of
their
games,
but
practicing
law
then
was
a
quiet,
discreet
profession,
behind
closed
doors
in
offices
full
of
law
books
and
leather
chairs,
dictaphones
and
redwells.
Still
to
come
were
the
inventions
that
have
helped
make
the
practice
what
it
is
today:
the
internet
and
social
media,
marketing
personnel,
laptops
and
smartphones,
and
all
the
other
accoutrements
that
influence
today’s
practice,
especially
the
rise
of
artificial
intelligence.
For
those
of
us
who
have
witnessed
the
evolution,
perhaps
the
revolution
(or
devolution,
depending
upon
your
viewpoint)
of
law
practice,
these
changes
have
confounded
many.
Is
it
the
time
to
move
on
from
whatever
spotlight
we
may
have
had
to
life’s
next
stage
or
stay
put?
We
are
antediluvian,
that
is,
prehistoric,
creatures
of
an
earlier
time
in
which
professionalism,
civility,
and
cordiality,
qualities
that
were
givens
and
just
as
important
as
billable
hours,
were
key.
(Remember
block
billing?)
In
those
days,
there
was
no
need
to
confirm
every
conversation
between
counsel
in
writing.
Throw
in
the
use
of
artificial
intelligence
to
the
pressures
of
the
current
lawyering
environment
and
the
need
to
be
competent
in
that
area.
It’s
prompting
both
internal
and
external
discussions
about
whether
to
continue
to
practice.
The
pace
continues
to
accelerate
and
some
feel
that
this
is
the
fork
in
the
road
that
has
been
placed
there
to
make
that
decision
easier.
Years
ago,
one
in-house
lawyer
I
knew
decided
to
retire
because
he
didn’t
want
to
learn
and
then
handle
e-discovery
for
his
client.
E-discovery.
Sounds
quaint
and
very
old-fashioned
now.
When
was
the
last
time
you
fretted
about
e-discovery?
I
thought
so.
There
are
many
reasons
for
making
the
decision:
reductions
in
force,
stealth
layoffs,
being
let
go
due
to
substandard
performance
(aka
insufficient
billables
and
collections),
client
issues,
lack
of
new
business
or
continuing
business,
loss
of
referral
sources,
health
issues
that
can
no
longer
be
ignored,
unhappy
firm
mergers,
or
dissolutions.
Alternatively,
we
may
have
toughed
it
out
until
we
know
we’re
done
(just
stick
a
fork
in
us).
Remind
yourself
that
disappearing
from
public
view
in
the
practice
for
whatever
reason
doesn’t
mean
failure.
It
means
freedom.
Freedom
from
the
manacles
of
billable
hours,
freedom
from
the
stress
and
distress
that
has
accompanied
all
of
us
at
various
times,
if
not
our
constant
companions,
freedom
from
the
frustration
of
trying
to
satisfy
client
whims,
freedom
from
worrying
whether
you
are
professionally
competent
in
all
the
new
technologies
to
avoid
bar
discipline.
The
pressure
to
aggressively
market,
market,
market
in
pursuit
of
the
career
is
in
the
rearview
mirror.
Freedom:
the
ability
to
choose
what
you
want
to
do,
the
ability
to
do
nothing
at
all,
the
ability
to
daydream,
to
wool-gather
about
all
the
possibilities
that
are
out
there.
Don’t
tell
me
that
there
aren’t
any;
they
are
everywhere.
It’s
just
a
matter
of
taking
the
time
to
see
clearly
and
decide
what
is
important
and
meaningful
to
you.
It’s
not
retirement,
a
word
that
strikes
terror
into
many.
It’s
redirection.
It’s
not
the
same
process
for
everyone
and
don’t
expect
it
to
be.
The
years
of
comparison
should
be
over.
What
may
be
important
to
one
is
not
important
to
another.
So,
how
do
you
want
to
spend
this
third
act
of
your
life?
Do
you
keep
your
license
active
and
get
involved
in
pro
bono
or
maintain
a
small
practice?
Do
you
volunteer
in
organizations
that
have
always
interested
you?
Do
you
enjoy
the
leisure
that
you
have
earned? For
many
of
us,
downshifting
from
warp
speed
takes
time.
Carving
out
a
different
identity
from
partner,
corporate
counsel,
or
any
other
title
that
has
identified
you
as
a
lawyer
during
your
career
takes
time.
There
may
be
fits
and
starts.
That’s
OK.
The
threshold
question: how
will
you
know
when
it’s
time
to
go?
The
answer
is
simple:
when
you
know,
you
know.
Jill
Switzer
has
been
an
active
member
of
the
State
Bar
of
California
for
over
40
years.
She
remembers
practicing
law
in
a
kinder,
gentler
time.
She’s
had
a
diverse
legal
career,
including
stints
as
a
deputy
district
attorney,
a
solo
practice,
and
several
senior
in-house
gigs.
She
now
mediates
full-time,
which
gives
her
the
opportunity
to
see
dinosaurs,
millennials,
and
those
in-between
interact
—
it’s
not
always
civil.
You
can
reach
her
by
email
at [email protected].