This book was published in 1999. I read it while I was still in law school, over the summer as a "rising 3L." One of the most common criticisms of law school is that it does not prepare you for real world practice. In particular, I can say from experience, there is a dearth of coursework concerning small firm practice. That is, we are required to take Torts and learn basics of personal injury, but we are not instructed on how to form retainers, how to manage clients, whether to take things on contingency or do flat-fees, how we value and bill our time, and how we account for all of that and make a living doing it. The economics of "small law" (sometimes referred to be a different s-word) seem based on profit off of "retail" customers, many of whom are economically disadvantaged. No one talks about this particular type of "mental toll"--they talk about the mental toll of moral ambiguity in working for a large and powerful corporation and covering up their misdeeds. (To say nothing of the morality of covering up misdeeds of "retail clients" that seek you out for your bargain rate, or the anxiety of holding unpaid invoices over poor people for months or years.)
This book isn't concerned with any of that, but rather, professional responsibility. And while I did recommend this book for people that were taking the MPRE before taking a course on Professional Responsibility, I didn't report that I would later fail the MPRE on the first go-around, passing only after taking Professional Responsibility (and also, one of my limited "flat A's" in law school). So I rescind that recommendation.
I am well-acquainted with the world of e-discovery now and I can report with relative certainty that discovery battles are in fact the life blood of most firms. Also, I recently had a case where a previous attorney, whose specialty was legal malpractice, represented his client in a way that sure looked like malpractice, but who likely knew exactly what he needed to do at the bare minimum to avoid that finding.
I have often said there is a 50-50 rule about attorneys: 50% are cool (good), and 50% are uncool (bad). This is a book about both types, but mostly the latter. The reforms proposed at the end of the book are reasonable. I do not think the legal profession has changed in the 22 years since this publication. I also am not inclined to re-read it. It was probably a good book for me to read at the time, but it was not, in fact, very useful. Better than THE LAWYER MYTH, though.
Intended for popular consumption, Zitrin & Langford provide a riveting, accessible exploration of the ethical ambiguities posed by the adversary theorem in legal practice.
The adversary theorem, the core of American legal practice, asserts that zealous advocacy on behalf of clients will serve the ultimate cause of justice even if lawyers engage in otherwise questionable behavior because the competition between lawyers who engage in the same practices ensures that justice will ultimately prevail.
Folks looking to denounce lawyers lightly will find little sympathy for lawyers by reading the cases in this book. Rather than consider the implications of the billable hours or the justifications for Frank Armani's interpretation of confidentiality, they'll rush to denounce. It's always easy to pre-judge. That's why lawyers exist.
Zitrin & Langford are less interested in denouncing the adversary theorem than in examining its effect in the real world. The proposals they offer mesh with developments that occurred after their book. The American Bar Association revised its model rules in 2002. Harvard Law School added a pro bono requirement for all students. Law firms tout their pro bono service prominently on their websites, sometimes more prominently than they tout their client list.
Zitrin & Langford add considerably to serious discussion about the application of ethics to legal practice - a perpetual discussion that will last so long as humans disagree.