January/February 2002

Article Title

 

The View From Here

 

Author

 

Judge Thomas M. Higbee

 

Article Type

 

Views From the Bench

 

Article

 

 

As I stand on the top of Angel's Landing in Zion National Park there are spectacular views in every direction. I can look north, up the canyon to the Temple of Sinawava, south down the canyon, east across the canyon to the Great White Throne, or west to the treacherous trail over which I just came. As I consider this "View from the Bench," I feel somewhat the same way. From my perspective early in the transition from lawyer to judge, I can look back down the canyon, reflecting on the almost 21 years in the practice which are still fresh on my mind, or up the canyon towards what I hope will be a long and productive career on the bench. Maybe a little of both will be in order for this article.

I have been on the bench for coming up on a year now. The transition has been interesting for a lot of reasons. As the time came for me to take the bench, I realized at some point that my life's work - being a lawyer - would soon be over. I couldn't help but look back on my career as an attorney: A brief stint with a great firm in Salt Lake, and then for 20 years as a general practitioner in Cedar City.

In those moments of reflection as I prepared to leave the practice, I thought often about what I had learned, things I wished I would have done differently, and what lessons I would take with me onto the bench. Here are a few of my thoughts looking down the canyon of almost 21 years of law practice. These thoughts are my own. Other members of the bar may or may not have had similar feelings. I offer them for what they are worth. I also realize that I am not plowing new ground here. Perspectives on the practice of law have been stated in the pages of the Bar Journal more eloquently than I can do, but here goes anyway.

1. Kudos to good lawyers and the legal profession. In my naivety as a law student, I somehow supposed that getting through law school was the toughest part about being a lawyer. I soon realized, and had reinforced often, that law school was a piece of cake compared to the rigors of the practice. Being a good lawyer is hard. The work we do is diverse, challenging, difficult, stressful, and always important. After all, as George Eliot stated, "The law and medicine should be very serious professions to undertake, should they not? People's lives and fortunes depend on them."

So amid the lawyer jokes, and notwithstanding what the public perception of lawyers may be, I reaffirm that the law is a noble profession. I am proud of my years as an attorney and commend every good lawyer for the invaluable service they perform in our society.

2. The pace of life. There was a seasoned practitioner in our town named Pat Fenton. By the time I came home to practice in Cedar City in 1981, he had already been a member of the bar for over 30 years. Pat often walked to work from his home, and sometimes even walked the several blocks to court from his office. He walked slowly.

The first few times I saw Pat walking to work I thought him quite silly. With time being so valuable and all, I couldn't understand why he would "waste" his time with an unproductive thing like walking.

By the time I had practiced ten years or so I wasn't so sure it was such a bad idea to walk to work. In some ways, I was a bit jealous that he could arrange to do it, and I couldn't. I no longer viewed it as silly and silently wished I had enough control over the pace of my life to do the same. But I was still convinced that given my schedule and all that I had on my plate, my pace was right for me.

Then, as I prepared to leave the practice, I decided that, at least in concept, I should have paid more attention to Pat's approach. For 20 years I could have - maybe even should have - taken more time to figuratively walk to work and didn't. I never did quite figure out how to manage the pace of my life so that I had time to do such things, but I am convinced that we would all do better to find time to walk to work (either literally or figuratively) more often.

Pat died a few months ago -- his walk having long since slowed to a shuffle - having been a member of the bar for over 50 years. I never had the chance to ask him, but my guess is that he did not view the time spent walking to his office or to court as wasted.

3. Priorities. There has been much ink spilled discussing how lawyers deal with priorities in their lives. The rub of the issue is that, because the practice is so demanding, other important things - even more important things - get left behind in the press of legal business. According to Joseph Story, "The law . . . is a jealous mistress, and requires a long and constant courtship. It is not to be won by trifling favours, but by lavish homage."

I read an interesting article in the May 1994 issue of Arizona Attorney that I have often thought about. It is called "The $150 Sunset and Other Reflections on Life After Lawyering." One of the points the author, Rudy Eugholm, makes is that we lawyers sometimes measure what we do or don't do by what our time is worth. As you might have guessed from the title of the article, one scenario imagines a lawyer (undoubtedly with laptop in tow) sitting on the beach analyzing the reality that, since he or she bills at $150 an hour, it is "costing" him or her $150 to watch the beautiful sunset.

I found myself occasionally, perhaps even frequently, measuring what I did against what my time was worth - washing the car, fixing the leaky hose, or watching a baseball game. In my reflections on life after lawyering, I realize that often the $150 I might have made working on a given Saturday is not "worth" anywhere near the value of watching one of my sons play in a Jr. Jazz game. Sometimes the obligation to get the work done for the client simply precludes other options. But without in any way diminishing the efforts we all make to be the best lawyers that we can possibly be, in those discretionary times I should have tried harder to adjust my practice to allow time for more important things. There is something to be said for the motto of the Angler's Inn, that "[t]ime spent fishing cannot be deducted from a person's life."

Even as I write these thoughts, I realize that the concept is easier said than implemented. In my years of practice I talked often about how to make more time to do other things. I resolved each year to do better. But somehow, I never quite got there.

4. It was worth it. Do you ever get asked, "Are you glad you became a lawyer?" I have to confess that at times in my practice I would have wavered in answering. But as I write this today, I say without hesitation that it was worth it. Even with all of the pressures, sleepless nights, and long hours I am glad that I became a lawyer. Lawyering is a noble profession, and those who are critical of it don't understand what it's all about. Sure, like any other profession, we have our problems and problem lawyers, but we are literally entrusted with the lives and fortunes of people. Theodore Roosevelt's memorable observation applies to lawyers in a unique way:

    It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.

Now, as I finish up, let me shift my view to the present and future instead of the past. My, how perspective changes things! Good judging, like good lawyering, is hard work. The things that seemed so clear to me when I dumped my case in the judge's lap as an attorney are not so clear on the receiving end. Every judge wants to have the judgment and wisdom of Solomon on every issue that he or she decides, but wisdom and good judgment are hard-earned. And, just as I did as an attorney, as a judge - especially in the Juvenile Court - I often have a significant part of the lives and fortunes of people in my hands. While the demands of the bench are different than those of the bar in some ways, in the big picture judging is hard for the same reasons that lawyering is hard. And, for many of the same reasons that lawyering is worth it, judging is worth it too. I hope the road on up the canyon will be as exciting and rewarding as the journey to this point has been.