|
Speaking of tort reform, when did "niche" become "neesh" instead of "nitch?" I just spent two of the longest days of my life1 in a seminar devoted to helping us "secure and defend our neesh in the market." When I was a second year associate I remember some concern expressed about my inability to find my nitch in the firm. Naively unaware that I had even lost my nitch, I hadn't really been looking for it. When it was pointed out to me that mine was apparently missing, but luckily still somewhere in the office waiting for me to stumble across it, I diligently went looking. I switched nitches a lot, but never found mine. Except in my Random House Dictionary of the English Language (unabridged), where the pronunciation is shown as "nich." No alternative pronunciation is even listed. It doesn't rhyme with quiche. It rhymes with kitsch. Maybe if someone had told me 20 years ago that what I really needed was a neesh, things would have gone much differently.
I learned a lot in the seminar, though. While I still have no idea how lawyers are supposed to secure and defend a niche in the market (witness my practice), I do
know exactly how consultants do it - don't actually do anything differently, just say it differently.
The consultants - I mean, our facilitators - began by encouraging us to "create a robust, value-added network by leveraging our platform of delivery systems to
enhance the richness of the client experience." This sent me thumbing through my impressive three-ring binder of Power Point slides looking for a glossary.
Mine was missing (just like my niche). So I spent most of the next 48 hours compiling one (a glossary, not a niche).2 Here's what I came up with. I think it's close.
"Robust" means "good." ("Good" is the archaic form of "robust" and is no longer robust enough to be used by intelligent
people: The functionality of our website is not very robust. Our firm brochure is not very robust. Lunch was certainly robust. My, aren't these slides robust?
If we can't find an expert witness that agrees with us by next Tuesday, it'll be Robust Night, Irene for this case and our associates can all kiss their bonuses
robust-bye.)
"Value added" means "of questionable value." (At Grey, Tepid, and Vanilla we add richness to the client experience through a kaleidoscope of
value added services such as legal audits, prepaid legal services for the client's employees, compliance hotlines, extensive use of focus groups, and cold fusion.)
"From the get-go" means "I can't think of another way to start this sentence and I think this might sound better than if I just clear my throat
again." (The first time I saw this phrase used in print was in a brief to the Wyoming Supreme Court. I remember thinking it looked quaint, and that we were
going to lose badly. I was half right. Instead of quaint, it is apparently chic. From the get-go, we must realize that, at the end of the day, synergies do not actually exist.)
"The end of the day" means "I can't remember how I started this thought, so I'm just going to sum up." (At the end of the day, if we haven't
taken ownership of a visionary paradigm, we will be mired in an archaic modality. And we will probably get sleepy, and then it will get dark, too.)
"In a perfect world" means "I am about to tell you something utterly ridiculous, that doesn't exist or never really happens." (In a perfect
world, synergies abound. In a perfect world, we will break at 10:30. In a perfect world, you would get your money back for this seminar.)
"Process together" means "brainstorming." (One of my favorites. This is where we take flipcharts and "breakout" with something, or
into something. Having paid plenty of money to learn from our expert facilitators, we are now told that the most robust ideas are the ones lurking inside of us,
waiting to be teased out by a trained professional. Right. What kind of a pigeon falls for something like that? When I pay tuition, I expect to be taught
something. I remember law school, and the Socratic method, and, well . . . bad example, but probably just the exception that proves my point. The most promising
idea to come of our breakout group was that we all fatten our margins by dropping our malpractice coverage. I chuckled when I heard that one - it felt good to be
ahead of the curve on something.)
"Think outside of the box" means "I hope you guys come up with some robust ideas, because I sure can't." (This is what our facilitators urge us
to do when we process together. Why can't people who think it's so important to think outside of the box at least come up with a new expression for it? Every
facilitator on the planet insists that we think outside of the box. I had a cat who thought that way once, and at the end of the day it didn't work out very
robustly for him.)
"Offer sponsorship" means "to suggest." (Goes hand in hand with "take ownership." See below. The two expressions are always used
together, like "q" and "u," Stockton and Malone, registration statement and malpractice claim, etc.)
"Take ownership" means "try." (I'd like to offer sponsorship to you of the possibility of taking ownership of a robust new paradigm. I'd like
to offer sponsorship to you of taking ownership of a niche. I'd like to offer sponsorship to you of taking ownership of the spinach and mushroom quiche.)
"Paradigm" means "vision."
"Vision" means "modality."
"Modality" means "the progeny of synergy."
"The progeny of synergy" means "absolutely nothing."
"Exceeding expectations" means "a pleasant surprise." (As, for example, when the temperature in the seminar room is actually in double digits,
or when it ends at 3:30, or when the facilitator says something mildly informative.)
"Engage in live interaction" means "talk to someone." (In today's value-added business modality, this is to be avoided at all costs. If the
functionality of your website toolbar isn't sufficiently robust, you will have no choice but to engage in live interaction.)
"Best practices" are what the firm's emeritus partners have.
Still, somewhere around the middle of the second day I started to get it. I glimpsed the future. Out of the corner of my eye I swear I even saw a niche. By 2:30 I
was fully synergized, chanting and clapping and calling for Kool Aid along with the rest. At the last possible moment I was saved by a clear headed tax partner who
dragged me from the room and straight to deprogramming. But for his quick and decisive action, I would be mouthing platitudes and carrying a day planner at this
very moment. Don't make the mistake of thinking it could never happen to your firm. Talk to your associates. Don't let them experiment with consulting. Tell them
about the danger. The consulting industry is just a hypnotic dialect. There are no real ideas, just a lot of words that leave you feeling inferior until you figure
out that they don't really mean much anyway. Listening to consultants speak is like listening to litigators discuss civil procedure - sorry, another bad example. I
didn't mean that. There is hope, though. With the passage of the English-only initiative, the consultants' days are numbered. (I'd never really thought of it
before, but the initiative might not bode very robustly for us, either . . . Govern yourselves accordingly!)
Footnotes
1.
Almost as long as those two days taking the bar exam. The examiners enjoyed my essay on the probate code so much they invited me back to write a supplement. The guy to my left ended up a Utah Supreme Court Justice - I guess I should have copied more carefully. The guy to my right introduced himself as Bud Scruggs. He said his idea of a diet was having a salad with lunch, so we picked out a buffet and were a little late getting back to the test room. That probably didn't help my score. But it did help me sleep better during the multi-state.
2.
Note to the Bar Commissioners (as if they would actually be reading this . . .): don't worry, I didn't even try to claim CLE. I was tempted, but didn't. I think I deserve at least a couple of ethics hours for that.
|
