I enjoy
a good professor-bashing blog post as much as the next guy—especially when
the targeted profs have said, done, or written silly things. But today, many people like to blame law
profs for the abysmal state of legal education—especially graduates’
staggering debt loads and inability to perform even basic legal tasks. This blame comes in many forms, but a common criticism is that profs earn way too much money for publishing useless law review articles and, to compound the problem, their schools spend even more
money shipping them to pricey, tuition-funded conferences to present their articles
to other profs. This, in turn, drives up
the price of legal education and, worse yet, marginalizes (or displaces) real
training in legal practice and legal theory.
As it turns out, however, the current state of affairs in legal academia
is exactly what students have (unwittingly) asked for.
First,
students are obsessed with the US News rankings of law schools. For most, this is probably the single biggest
factor in choosing a law school. (If you
want proof, just check the numerous blogs that discuss the recently released rankings
and debate rankings-related issues.) Many
students even pass on full scholarships, partial scholarships, lower-priced
schools, and schools in lower cost of living areas just to go to a school
ranked a few spots higher in the US News.
(And if the students are lucky, their chosen school won’t take a
double-digit dump after their first year.)
Second,
the single biggest factor in the US News rankings on which students rely
is law professor rankings of the law schools. That’s right: we criticize law professors for
their bizarre law review articles, lack of practical experience, etc., and then
irrationally worship a ranking system that is based 25 percent on law professor opinion (and another 15 percent on “faculty resources”).
Third,
schools want students, and students have tunnel vision for the US News, so how
do you think State University
Law School
(or Small Private
University Law School )
will try to get its ranking up? That’s
right: the most bang for the buck is to spend money impressing law profs at
other schools. That way, when the
surveys go out each year, State U.
will get higher survey scores and, consequently, a higher US News ranking.
Fourth,
how does the Dean of State U. go about impressing profs at other schools? By hiring excellent, local practitioners as
professors and producing practice-ready grads?
No. As we know, many law profs whose
opinions the Dean is seeking to sway have barely practiced law. Some haven’t practiced in the areas they
teach. Some haven’t practiced at all. Some are Ph.D.s who don’t even have law degrees. The way to win these profs over (thereby improving survey responses and thereby increasing US News
rank) is to hire profs just like them—that is, profs who have the same academic backgrounds and who want to publish articles that “are of great interest to the academic[s] that wrote [them], but [aren't] of much help to the bar”—and then let them impress the hell out of each other.
This
is not an exaggeration. Look at any of
the journals in which law profs aspire to publish, and check out the authors’
footnotes on some of the articles. One author, for example, presented her law review article on “racial capitalism” to ten
different “workshops” or “colloquiums” at law schools from coast to coast and
multiple states in between, and got additional feedback from more than twenty
other “wonderful colleagues.” That’s a lot
of money and time—and that time translates into even more
money—funded by students’ tuition dollars.
As a
practicing lawyer and frequent writer of law review articles, I never would have dreamed of
this approach. My personal view is that
if I got feedback from hundreds of people, my article would, at some point,
cease to be mine. However, the professor’s
above-described practice of spending countless hours checking with the entire
legal academy before publishing an article is the preferred practice among law profs. And the school’s practice of
flying the prof all over the country to read the paper at workshops and
colloquiums, regardless of the cost in time and money, is the preferred
practice among law schools. Why? Because when those annual US News opinion
surveys go out to law profs at other schools, those twenty “wonderful
colleagues” and the hundreds of profs at those “workshops” and “colloquiums”
will remember the author’s work on racial capitalism, and (hopefully) will rank
her school higher on their survey because of it. One law school dean even promised, after his
school slipped a mere five spots in the rankings, that he was going to throw even more money at
profs to write articles, and was going to pay for extra shiny brochures to
advertise the faculty and their publications to “key law school leaders” around the nation.
So,
in short, students dogmatically (and sometimes exclusively) rely on a ranking system based predominantly on the opinions of the very people (law
profs) that are criticized for driving up the cost of legal education and,
worse yet, failing to train students in legal practice and legal theory (as
opposed to the social science theory that law profs favor). To
shorten this message up even further: by relying on the US News, students have
gotten exactly what they’ve (unwittingly) asked for.
But
what to do about this? It might be too
late for most students, and is most certainly too late for grads, but there are
two important lessons here for the prospective student—or the 0-L, as he is
called.
First,
don’t just look at the ranking’s end result.
Dive into the details. About the
only things that will really matter to most students—at least with regard to rankings
or lists—are bar passage rates and job placement numbers. (You’ll soon realize that you don’t care what most professors
think or how many volumes are in the school’s library—you won’t be reading
any of them anyway.) And for those
things that do matter, beware of bad data. You might have to dig further than a
particular ranking’s methodology, and even go so far as to uncover your
own underlying data (or at least look for a reliable stamp of approval).
And
second, if after much research you decide you still want go to law school, think along
the lines of personal financial responsibility.
Sure, we live in a country driven by consumer debt. And even our government loves to borrow relentlessly
so it can please the citizenry by spending today, while leaving repayment for future generations to worry
about. Add to this consume-now-pay-later
mentality the refrain about how law school is “an investment,” and it seems acceptable
to borrow huge sums in order to spend the next three years reading cases (and
funding law profs’ coast-to-coast trips to present their articles to other
profs). Some students have even gone so
far as to take on the debt with the specific plan of not repaying—a possibly risky approach. But think of these possibilities: you might
be a flop in law school or, even if you love law school and do well, you might hate legal practice once you
graduate. Under these scenarios, that
quarter-million in debt may plague you for the rest of your life. So instead, think ahead and exercise some financial
restraint. Give strong consideration to
schools that offer scholarships, schools that are less expensive, and schools
in lower cost of living areas. You will
be taught by the same Harvard, Yale, and Stanford grads no matter which school
you go to. (As explained above, low ranked schools impress other schools’ H, Y, and S grads by hiring their own H, Y, and S grads, and then letting them mingle at conferences.) Further, the dollars you borrow are real, they do add up, and they will become
due at some point—and the total due will be even greater than what you borrowed due to accrued
interest.
And
if you’re not familiar with the concept of accrued interest (or other concepts
like future value, present value, and opportunity cost), then you might have
some studying to do before you do any borrowing of any kind.
Is it settled that we’re supposed to uniformly blame legal academia for the situation? I can’t completely subscribe to this.
ReplyDeleteHas everyone forgotten about some of the worthless undergrad majors that prospective 0Ls take in order to get high GPAs? History? Literature? Political Science? What demand does the economy have for the graduates who only attain a BA in the field?
In taking these worthless majors (without regard to employability), which serve no purpose in the economy, a prospective law student starts down an academic path with few options upon graduation.
Herein lies the problem. It’s the “you can always go to law school with our [insert bullshit degree here]!” sales pitch. As graduation approaches, chances of transferring into a major with employability in the real world decrease. And the salesmen who pitched law school hasn’t bothered to research the market for five years.
Therefore, it only makes sense that these graduates head to law school, even if employment numbers are dismal. A 0L with 3.4 GPA in history, literature, or political science still has a better chance of landing a legal job with a JD than a non-existent job with their BA in history, literature, or political science. The misconception that these “feeder” degrees are anything more than useless is the problem. Fix this problem, and the big-picture will improve.
Apparently this is revolutionary idea, so hold on to your hats.
Undergrad academics, instructing bullshit majors, training young minds to do what nobody will employ them to do after graduation, deserve blame. Legal academics can’t be 100% at fault. Obviously, the complicity of “educating” students where the “education” has no payoff is deplorable. Law professors alone do not monopolize this deplorable conduct.
A thus-far-unallocated portion of the blame must lie with undergraduate academia. Few actors are as deplorable as those who are content to fill seats for the sake of retaining funding within their university, while disregarding employability and conveniently avoiding discussion of employment prospects with students. These actors are not necessarily limited to law school.