Tit for Tat.
I had no idea that this phrase dates all the way back to 1556. Uncle Wiki explains that it was originally “tip for tap,” meaning “blow for blow.” Retaliation in kind. While an analysis of it is useful for things like game theory (or lawyering), at bottom it is a pithy phrase for a base human emotion and response. And it’s kinda ugly.
Over the past few days I have thought a lot about this phrase. How awful it is. And, as we are now halfway through Lent (see last month’s entry), I have thought about how much a part of my life this little phrase has become, and that I have to purge the impulses it describes so well.
This bit of introspection followed a recent conversation I had. It was likely the last conversation that I will ever have with that person. It was suggested to me that I “always had an answer” for anything that was said. Instead of accepting and internalizing a comment, I always had a comeback. Always a response. A debate. As I look back on those interactions, it was probably true. I am disappointed in myself about it. And more than a little sad.
It’s all so easy. Our culture (or at least the one that exists in social media) seems to exist to allow those little battles to take place. Snarkiness is easy when it’s anonymous, or semi-anonymous. I’ve done at least my share of it. I don’t have any interest in talking about politics anymore, in person or on line, such that those base responses can hopefully disappear.
Tit for tat captivates my professional environment. Our collective actions have gotten so bad that years ago the bar established specific rules on how attorneys should behave during depositions. A few years ago the local bar association held an ethics seminar devoted to an analysis of “tit for tat” in our professional interactions. The moderator presented some research that suggested “tit for tat” doesn’t work. Instead, we will be more successful by responding in a more positive way. Afterward some of us questioned the methodology of the study. Maybe we should have spent a little more time getting past that to think about how we do business.
More recently the bar has introduced the notion of “collaborative law,” primarily in family law, as a way to get past the bickering and help people get what they really need. Naturally, I’m skeptical. I don’t do family law, so I haven’t had any direct connection to what they are trying to do. I hope it works. I DO know that divorce is the most stressful experience I have ever endured. We need to find a way to help people through it emotionally, while taking care of their legal needs at the same time. It isn’t easy.
I am certainly not immune from these tit for tat professional responses. Just the other day a lawyer called with a request. My immediate reaction was to ask what was in it for my client (and for me). In response to something currently going on in my church board of elders, I actually remarked to a friend that I was going to “launch a counteroffensive.” Obviously I have some work to do. God help me.
It would be easy for me to blame my profession for how I interact with people. That isn’t fair. There are plenty of lawyers that act professionally in everything that they do. We aren’t all the scumbag stereotypical jerk people joke or complain about, and certainly most of us are not that way all the time. I think it is more likely that my personality fuels my occasionally snarky professional demeanor, not the other way around.
So, it’s time to work on myself. To think before I react. To take my own advice. When I meet with a client before a deposition I always give them the basic guidelines all lawyers give: (1) always speak the truth: and (2) always pause for a moment, take a breath and make sure you understand the question before answering it, making sure the answer appropriately responds to the question. I would also add a third: in personal interactions, always speak from the heart, not necessarily the head. Life shouldn’t always be a debate.
Friday, March 4, 2016
Sacrifices and Self-Improvement
I use the Lenten season (the six weeks between Ash Wednesday and Easter) as a time of reflection and self improvement. Every year I try to do two things: (1) practice some sort of sacrifice or method of self-discipline; and (2) find a way to educate myself in some spiritual way. I try to get rid of something negative, and add something positive. Theoretically, at the end of the six weeks, I will be a better person, and will continue those practices going forward.
In theory.
My past sacrifices have had varying levels of success. Often I have given up chocolate. While I was able to accomplish that most of the time, I would sometimes just substitute one thing for another: I would have vanilla ice cream instead of chocolate. Although I could prove to myself that I could go without chocolate for six weeks, I didn’t accomplish much in terms of my overall diet. What was the point of the sacrifice?
One year I gave up caffeine. My children ordered that I never do that again.
If you know me personally, you know that over the past eighteen months or so I have managed to make some positive changes to my lifestyle. I have lost a significant amount of weight, and as a result have been able to do more intense things physically. One part has helped the other, and I am approaching the goals I have established for myself. That has become part of my every day routine, so food sacrifices are no longer just a six week experiment.
So what, then, should I avoid for the next six weeks for my annual sacrifice? My son and I have come up with the answer: we have both pledged not to curse. It has some benefits: we will soon be working with youth baseball again, and in that role we need to make sure we always communicate in a positive way. We have not decided on a punishment yet for violations (a tip jar that goes to the Boys and Girls Club?). However, our plan is coming together. I think it will be an interesting challenge.
I have always had two vocabularies. The first one is the vocabulary I use professionally, when in court, meeting with clients, talking to other lawyers, attending church, or working with children. I am capable of having an intelligent conversation with someone without being bleeped.
My second vocabulary comes out at other times. Both of my grandfathers were salt of the earth union laborers, back when that kind of career existed. Neither progressed beyond ninth grade or so. The grandfather that lived eight blocks away was a longshoreman. When he wasn’t at work, he was usually puttering in the shop he had in the garage. We grandchildren would keep him company and help out as we were able.
It was clear early on that I had no aptitude for basic mechanics or carpentry. In ninth grade, my wood shop projects would feature patches and odd shapes or angles. Sometimes it seemed I was using more putty than wood. I liked trying, but I just didn’t have the chops. And the router scared me. My teacher Mr. Fuhrer (yep, Fuhrer) was generous in assessing my work, and I completed the semester with all ten fingers, so it was a win.
Clearly I didn’t learn many skills in my grandfathers’ garages. But I certainly did learn how to curse. The basic short words and every combination of the words that existed. Those that took the Creator’s name in vain and those that didn’t. George Carlin had nothing on my grandfathers. My father (who did not swear much until he retired) was not thrilled about my new vocabulary, and that was always impressed upon me in various ways when I got home from a visit to the grandparents.
So, I look forward to this challenge. It has probably been 45 years since I have gone six weeks without swearing. It has probably been that long since I have gone six days without swearing.
How will I do? We’ll find out. If you see me and ask me how it is going, my choice of words in answering you will let you know right away.
Wish me luck.
In theory.
My past sacrifices have had varying levels of success. Often I have given up chocolate. While I was able to accomplish that most of the time, I would sometimes just substitute one thing for another: I would have vanilla ice cream instead of chocolate. Although I could prove to myself that I could go without chocolate for six weeks, I didn’t accomplish much in terms of my overall diet. What was the point of the sacrifice?
One year I gave up caffeine. My children ordered that I never do that again.
If you know me personally, you know that over the past eighteen months or so I have managed to make some positive changes to my lifestyle. I have lost a significant amount of weight, and as a result have been able to do more intense things physically. One part has helped the other, and I am approaching the goals I have established for myself. That has become part of my every day routine, so food sacrifices are no longer just a six week experiment.
So what, then, should I avoid for the next six weeks for my annual sacrifice? My son and I have come up with the answer: we have both pledged not to curse. It has some benefits: we will soon be working with youth baseball again, and in that role we need to make sure we always communicate in a positive way. We have not decided on a punishment yet for violations (a tip jar that goes to the Boys and Girls Club?). However, our plan is coming together. I think it will be an interesting challenge.
I have always had two vocabularies. The first one is the vocabulary I use professionally, when in court, meeting with clients, talking to other lawyers, attending church, or working with children. I am capable of having an intelligent conversation with someone without being bleeped.
My second vocabulary comes out at other times. Both of my grandfathers were salt of the earth union laborers, back when that kind of career existed. Neither progressed beyond ninth grade or so. The grandfather that lived eight blocks away was a longshoreman. When he wasn’t at work, he was usually puttering in the shop he had in the garage. We grandchildren would keep him company and help out as we were able.
It was clear early on that I had no aptitude for basic mechanics or carpentry. In ninth grade, my wood shop projects would feature patches and odd shapes or angles. Sometimes it seemed I was using more putty than wood. I liked trying, but I just didn’t have the chops. And the router scared me. My teacher Mr. Fuhrer (yep, Fuhrer) was generous in assessing my work, and I completed the semester with all ten fingers, so it was a win.
Clearly I didn’t learn many skills in my grandfathers’ garages. But I certainly did learn how to curse. The basic short words and every combination of the words that existed. Those that took the Creator’s name in vain and those that didn’t. George Carlin had nothing on my grandfathers. My father (who did not swear much until he retired) was not thrilled about my new vocabulary, and that was always impressed upon me in various ways when I got home from a visit to the grandparents.
So, I look forward to this challenge. It has probably been 45 years since I have gone six weeks without swearing. It has probably been that long since I have gone six days without swearing.
How will I do? We’ll find out. If you see me and ask me how it is going, my choice of words in answering you will let you know right away.
Wish me luck.
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