A Higher Reason

I was frantically reviewing my notes before a lecture began the other day when a friend sitting next to me laughed.
“Why not just do the readings and then study the store outlines a few weeks before the exam?” he asked. “You might learn this stuff better doing all the work, but it’s not going to make that much of a difference on the exam.”
I sat back and thought about it for a minute. He may be right, I concluded.
Later that class, I looked over and saw him instant-messaging someone about how boring class was.
Between bets on his online poker game (he had pocket Kings) he whispers, “Hey man, I’m just in it for the sheepskin.” Later, he adds, “How well you do in law school has almost nothing to do with how well you do as a lawyer.”
Again, I had to pause. I wondered if he had the right perspective.
My friend’s remarks remind me of a conversation I had at Rock Bottom last semester with several other friends. They informed me quite unapologetically that yes, silly, there were only in it for the money.
These experiences caused me to reflect on the real reasons I am in law school. I really can’t fault with anyone who sees these three years as simply a series of obstacles one must overcome to get a first job. As one dean explained to me recently, law school is in some ways just a trade school that gives students the necessary tools to succeed in a specific, if elite, workforce.
As for grades, it’s probably true that a person with average intelligence can squeak by with a transcript full mediocre grades simply by using study aids and a crash course at the end of each semester. Besides, after that first job, isn’t it all about your onsite performance and what connections you make? Aren’t the connections the most important thing even now?
After considering these questions, I’ve concluded there is something inherently worthwhile in getting good grades beyond our first job. There is something in studying for more than just the exam. In other words, there is more to law school than getting the sheepskin. A lofty and ephemeral ideal, I know, but bear with me.
Rather than being simply a means to an end, law school may have an end in itself. In the long run, our law school experiences should increase our appreciation for the struggles our society faces rather than just increasing the number of tools in our toolboxes to litigate cases. Instead of simply preparing for an exam, our class preparation and discussions should be reforming the way we think and how we view the world.
For example, how differently do we see current events now that we are beginning to grasp their legal implications? How differently do we act in public now that we better understand tortious liability? How about when we sign a contract? When we purchase real estate? Does our increased understanding tend to make us more ethical or simply more strategic in our transactions? These are small things, but I imagine they only get bigger the more we learn.
The additional skills that come from pondering the greater meanings in our courses may not translate directly into higher salaries or better jobs. But they may translate into us being better people.
After all, doesn’t our passion and interest for law reflect what our passion and interest in practice will be?
One question I have asked myself is, “If I were assured my dream job upon graduation regardless of my transcript, would it affect my current efforts?” If I’m not still willing to work hard when my dream is secured, I may need to change my motivations.
The early 20th century writer Ezra Pound wrote, “Real education must ultimately be limited to men who insist on knowing. The rest is mere sheepherding.”
There is no doubt that grades are important. The first job is even more important. But if we were to walk away from these three years never to practice law or implement our degrees, I hope we would still have gained something worth our efforts, something more than just a sheepskin.