I often describe myself as "reluctantly professional." That is to say, I value professionalism, I understand the importance of being professional and courteous, and I strive to hold myself to a high standard therein. But while I always am professional in my interactions with our clients, other firms, defendants, etc., that doesn't mean I don't secretly desire to tear into some folks. Considering how down-right evil some of the people who hurt our clients can be, not losing my cool on them can be really challenging.
Additionally, the duties of my job require me keep my eye on the ball. The "spend your time helping clients, not lecturing bad people" ball, that is to say. Simply put, if I took the time to let slip my ire for every indifferent eye-witness, indignant defendant, or semi-literate rube who sends us a, "Hey, man. Why ya'll sayin' my favorite bar is killing people?" piece of hate mail, I would not be fully focused on the needs of our clients. Helping clients is my job, so those tendencies have to be muted.
I get all of that, I really do. Nevertheless, there are some people who are so callus and foolhardy that I can't help but call them out for being flaming piles of human garbage.
This is one of those occasions.
When You Kill Someone, Things Might Get a Bit Inconvenient For You.
This past weekend, our firm was contacted by a woman who we'll call "Megan." Megan contacted us because we had an article on our site that didn't paint her in a very flattering light. In said article, we described (quite accurately) how she caused an accident that killed a motorcyclist just south of Dallas.
What the article really focused on was the underlying cause of the accident happened. It explained how the authorities suspected Megan was drunk at the time of the wreck and arrested her for an intoxication-related offense (I believe it was intoxication manslaughter).
Bear in mind, we didn't just guess at the facts and circumstances; the information came from the police themselves. Additionally, a quick Google search of her name leads you to her mug shot and arrest record, as well as several news articles about the incident, all of which make the same accusation: she got drunk and killed someone.
Megan didn't appreciate that. She emailed us to explain that she's trying to move on with her life, and our article, which talks about the terrible thing she did to an innocent man, is apparently all too easy to find on the internet. Because of this, she explained, potential employers have stumbled upon our article and it's cost her a job or two. Vexed by this, she decided to reach out to us to see if we would remove the article.
Now, it's worth pointing out that we occasionally get emails like the one she sent. Usually, they go something like this: "Several years ago, I made the worst mistake of my life. I drove drunk and killed someone. I am ashamed of what I have done, and not a day goes by that I don't beg God for forgiveness. I served two years in jail because of this. I have paid my debt to society and have sought forgiveness from the victim's family. I know my actions may seem to indicate otherwise, but I'm really not a bad person. I'm a good person who did something terrible. I understand that you have every right to talk about whatever you want on your website and I understand why you would want to take me to task in your article. I deserve it. But I am trying hard to rebuild my life, and your article is making it difficult for me to find work. Will you please consider removing my name from the article? I would really appreciate it."
When we receive such correspondence, it's hard not to empathize with someone who is working to make amends. Yes, they did something awful, but if they were amply punished and have learned a valuable life lesson, I can't help but feel that they deserve a second chance. As such, I'm glad to pull down our article about their misadventure.
But that's not the kind of email I received from Megan. Her email, instead, read like this (paraphrasing - I copied most of what she wrote but changed some of it to conceal context clues that may reveal the identity of the parties involved... her poor grammar, however, was left intact):
I am writing to you about the article involving X. I am the person you reference in the article and some of the information is incorrect. My lawyer told me to contact you and ask you to take it down before I have to get her involved. This article is showing up in search results when someone google's my name and it has made it hard for me to get a good job. Plus I have a 10-year-old child who I don't want to read this about me when he goes online. This incident has already hurt our family for years on a daily basis. I ask that you kindly remove it from your website. I will follow up with a phone call to verify that you removed it.
Oh, boy. Where to begin?
This is America. In this great country of ours, our little Texas law firm gets to talk about anything we want to on our website, so long as we have taken reasonable steps to ensure the accuracy of the subject matter. In short, aside from lying, defaming someone, or breaching the ethics rules as outlined by the State Bar, we are free to discuss whatever subject matter we do desire. Wanting us to take the article down is not the same thing as us being required to do so.
When I was a kid I would occasionally say, "I wish I had (insert object my family was too poor to afford)." My grandmother would always fire back with, "Well, wish in one hand and spit in the other. See which one fills up first."
Her meaning was twofold: First, if I really wanted something, hard work was the way to get it. Second, she meant that wishing in general is foolish. I feel a bit the same way about Megan's lawyer (who probably doesn't exist) wanting to "get involved." Go ahead. Wish the law worked the way you're describing in one hand and spit in the other. Let me know how it works out for you.
Further, it really rustles my jimmies that she uses the phrase "ask kindly" when she's threatening legal action. Even though her threats reflect a lack of understanding of one of the most basic legal principles in American law, it's still a threat, which doesn't exactly get me amped to help her out.
But those are minor trivialities. Megan's big sin is that her whole appeal amounts to, "Life's been hard on ME, so please help make it easier."
Has it, Megan?! Has life been hard on you? Is it difficult dealing with the inconvenience of the public learning about that time that you broke the law and killed a man?
Yeah, I bet that's really hard on you. You know who else this may be hard on? How about the family of the man you killed?
When I received Megan's email, I was beside myself with anger. How can someone be so self-centered that, in an email referencing THE TIME THEY KILLED A MAN, they can't even bother to express anything remotely resembling sympathy or regret for what they've done, and instead they focus on how inconvenient it is when people learn the truth of their past mistakes?
Benefit of the Doubt?
I supposed it's only fair to give her some benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she didn't actually rear-end the motorcycle and/or wasn't actually under the influence. In which case, the police sure did fudge the details. Nevertheless, if we had the pertinent facts wrong, I'd gladly correct any inaccurate information.
Pro tip for anyone who is wrongfully accused of committing a crime: if that's really what happened, start your email with something along the lines of, "Here's what actually happened" or "I was exonerated" or "you've got it all wrong." Outside of that, I'm not sure how I am to assume you're anything other than a killer who's whining about how hard your life is.
My gut tells me that some of the "incorrect information" referenced in her email doesn't include the allegations we made. It's probably something pedantic like we got time of day of the accident wrong, and she is trying to leverage that to imply that we were wrong on some gravely important detail (like one of the allegations against her). Perhaps this shouldn't surprise me, though. Every law firm in America is inundated with callers asking, "Can I have a ticket dismissed because they spelled my middle name wrong?"
But Duty Calls
Being that my job is not to argue with random strangers, I did not engage her. Against my natural proclivities, we simply removed the article. As I mentioned in a previous article, my boss makes it clear that our sole focus in this firm is helping people who have been injured, not picking fights with disreputable people. We are in the business of getting justice for specific wrongs, not to be justice ambassadors writ large (though, frankly, that's kind of how I see myself).
We often talk about getting justice for the injured and holding wrong-doers accountable. Those critical of the legal profession often say that this is just code speak or a dog whistle for "we pretend to care about injured people as a way of getting paid." They never see the victims of these incidents or how their lives are ruined. They never see how, even years after the fact, wrong-doers still have trouble admitting that they did anything wrong. For such people (like Megan), things are never their fault, it's all a misunderstanding, and they're the real victims of circumstance, not the people whose lives their actions have turned upside down. We see these things every day and it furthers our resolve to hold bad people accountable.
Many years ago, an old girlfriend of mine told me that I don't argue with my opponent, rather my opponent becomes a proxy for everyone who has ever wronged me or anyone else, and I lay into them accordingly. For better or for worse, she's right. I think that people who are skeptical of firms like ours fail to recognize that my outlook on justice is a driving force, and one that's shared by most of my colleagues. My predilection to right every wrong that's ever happened is, far and away, why I come in to work every day. The fact that one can make a business out of it is just the fine print, as far as I'm concerned.
Just in Case It's Not Obvious, I Don't Wish Megan Well
Removing the article about her misconduct was, of course, the most appropriate use of my time and mental energy. We have clients whose cases demand attention, so while telling her to pound sand would have felt nice, it amounts to little more than a distraction from my true purpose here at the firm.
Yet despite my constant attempts to refocus my efforts on the task at hand, I can't help but feel like it is my job in life, un-appointed as it may be, to call people out on their misconduct. I'd certainly prefer to win hearts and minds to the cause of safety and contentious conduct by dissuading people from committing negligence in the first place. But when the deed is done, every fiber of my being tells me that I can't stay silent. At least, not completely silent.
And though I chose not to engage her nor to to talk about her accident in such a way that readers can discern who "Megan" is, I at least wanted to take the opportunity to put my thoughts on paper so that, should "Megan" ever read this, she'll know that I think she's a horrific example what humanity has to offer.