Part II of "An Examination of the Lawyer’s Briefcase"

Part I: Introducing the Lawyer's Briefcase

Part II: Selecting the Perfect Briefcase, Including Tips for Care and Cleaning

In turning now to the part of this essay concerning the selection and care of the lawyer’s briefcase, it might be easiest to consider the second part of the inquiry first. Whatever the conventional wisdom, including that thrust upon lawyers by those who sell briefcases, the truth is simply stated: there should be no care and no cleaning of a lawyer’s briefcase.

The lawyer’s briefcase is not a museum piece. It should be used, not displayed. Perhaps a simple image would help to get the point across. Everyone is familiar with the metaphor of lawyers as warriors, hired to do battle for whichever side is willing to pay the most money. Many consider this metaphor to be overused. But to illustrate a point about the care and cleaning of a lawyer’s briefcase, it just might do the trick. First, think back to medieval times, when poets penned odes to “courtly love” and warriors wore “suits of armor.” A suit of armor, you’ll recall, was a sort of metal enclosure with hinges that allowed the warrior, though trapped inside the enclosure, to move around a bit whenever his legs began to fall asleep. Now skip ahead five hundred years. These days, the only metal on the lawyer’s body (assuming him to be evolved from those selfsame warriors of yesteryear) is his flashy Rolex watch. Another modern improvement is the lawyer’s suit, which is now constructed of a material so flexible that moving around is no problem at all. Sometimes the lawyer’s suit is so flexible, in fact, that a lawyer can even shoot hoops with the neighborhood kids who wave him down when he passes in his BMW on the way to work.

At this point, I admit to getting a little carried away. In truth, lawyers never exit their BMWs to shoot hoops with the neighborhood kids. Perhaps my point can be stated without a single reference to basketball, to wit: If a lawyer’s briefcase is truly an implement of war, it should have the look of having been to war. This is why the care and cleaning of a lawyer’s briefcase is not very important. In fact, it may do more harm than good.

As for selecting a briefcase, I really do not have a lot to say. Personally, I favor a sturdy briefcase with lots of pockets, as do many other lawyers who have spent any time considering the problem. A second important feature is a sturdy clasp designed to insure the briefcase can be tightly fastened. Although zippers and latches may function in place of a clasp, rubber bands are never acceptable. Neither is twine nor dental floss.

There is, of course, a small subset of lawyers for whom the conundrum of briefcase-selection is no conundrum at all. I'm referring to the lawyers who receive briefcases as presents to commemorate their graduation from law school. It’s as a result of such a gift that you will sometimes see a lawyer carrying a briefcase made of an exotic, shiny leather, embellished with resplendent gold-plated clasps and bearing details stitched by hand. In its expensive-looking newness, this sort of briefcase shouts out, “My owner passed the bar exam, and now he has arrived!”

Though passers-by on the street might be impressed, the new lawyer’s colleagues are often unable to conceal their disdain for the new lawyer's tail-wagging naiveté. A new briefcase means nothing about having arrived. Arriving doesn’t happen until a new briefcase has been made to suffer at least five years' worth of wear and tear. This is why all lawyers under the age of 30, as well as all older lawyers with ever-youthful-looking faces, should give their new briefcases a serious scuffing up before introducing them to the world. This is most easily accomplished by placing the briefcase on a hard surface, such as asphalt, brick, or concrete, and then jumping up and down on it for several minutes.

But I notice a flaw in my essay. I have returned once again—unintentionally, I might add—to the idea that a lawyer’s briefcase should look battle-worn and war-weary. It seems to be a destination to which I keep returning no matter what side road I venture down. With that realization, it’s probably a good time to conclude Part II of this essay about lawyers and their briefcases.

Coming up in the weeks ahead:

Part III: More Suggestions for Stocking a Lawyer’s Briefcase

Part IV: Matching the Briefcase to the Occasion

And next up in the ongoing series of essays on "Things Important to Every Lawyer": The Circle of Advisors

[Like this post? It's one of many included in my book How to Feed a Lawyer (And Other Irreverent Oberservations from the Legal Underground). Details here.]

Comments

[frm]

What are your feelings about wheels on briefcases? I feel that personal bags-on-wheels are one of the best inventions of the 20th century, but I am not sure how these might fit within the lawyer briefcase domain.

It's these little details that I don't think they tell you about in law school, so I am pleased to be able to think ahead on the difficult and practical decisions I will one day face.

[Evan]

frm: You are right that choosing a briefcase is a very difficult decision, and right to be thinking about the problem well in advance of graduation. As for wheels, they always make me slightly nervous that the briefcase, having come undone from the grip of my hand, might roll away from me, possibly into oncoming traffic. More than one well-intentioned lawyer has been run over and killed trying to retrieve a runaway briefcase. So I'd avoid wheels if possible.

[Lashlar]

That's funny. I distinctly recall, the last time I went to the State Supreme Court of New South Wales (Australia) for court observation, seeing quite a number of lawyers pulling bags-on-wheels around. Perhaps it's different down here on the other side of the world.

Perhaps I should look more carefully at my future briefcase purchase, too. I was considering a nice black bag-on-wheels simply because it seemed eminently practical, given that I don't have the brawn of Arnie, but the thought of being squished by a bus or a pickup truck while trying to retrieve my briefcase does sound intimidating.

Thank you for this wonderful piece of advice.

[Abnu]

This is a wonderful Lawyer Briefcase comment spam.

[frm]

Lashlar, maybe it's the Coriolis effect that makes wheelie bags a safer option in Australia.

[Tom]

This piece reached new hilarity-inducing heights of slapstick comedy. Thanks!

[liz]

I never thought that the words lawyer & briefcase in the same sentence, can actually make me smile a little.