Law360 Canada (February 3, 2026, 10:54 AM EST) --

Moira Cook

When I was articling, I was given a very difficult assignment. I was responsible for researching an obscure argument being advanced in a Supreme Court of Canada case that was grounded in a very old and likely inapplicable legal principle. The litigation team was very skeptical about it, and they asked me to provide a summary of the argument to see if it should be put forward or dropped. I spent an enormous amount of time on the research because I wanted to be sure I gave the potential argument a fair shake.

When I finally presented my findings to the team, they quickly decided to abandon the argument entirely and proceed on the remaining two grounds. I was left wondering if it was my fault — was my research inadequate? Had I missed something? I thought that we would lose the case at the Supreme Court and that it would potentially be my fault if I had not represented that argument properly. With all this running through my head while standing in front of the senior associate on the file, I suddenly burst into tears.

Later that day, I told the story to a third-year associate at the firm. His response was: “You cried? There’s no crying. There’s no crying in baseball!” quoting Tom Hanks’s memorable line from the film A League of Their Own. Although he was trying to be lighthearted, his message was totally accurate — the legal industry does not generally tolerate emotions in the workplace.

Obviously, my emotional reaction had much less to do with my developing skills as a lawyer and everything to do with carrying a level of responsibility and pressure that exceeded my existing capacity. I was 25. It was my first real job. I felt that the failure or success of a Supreme Court of Canada case was riding on my shoulders. Looking back on it now, I know that my research was really good, and the team had made up their minds to dump the argument long before they even handed me the doomed assignment. But in that moment, my tear ducts could not contain the mounting pressure. I did the unthinkable … I cried a little at work.

Now, as a psychotherapist who works with lawyers, I see a similar dynamic playing out with many of my clients. They are praised for working through exhaustion, not complaining about stress and admired when they suppress their emotions. They are quietly judged or even admonished for any displays of vulnerability. This creates a culture where everyone is pretending to be just fine, calm and happy, while real emotions are being pushed down. Emotions, however, do not disappear, they just resurface as anxiety, irritability, substance use, depression or burnout.

It’s interesting that while crying is always viewed as unprofessional, other forms of emotional expression are routinely tolerated in law. Anger, aggression, impatience and rudeness are all frowned upon in theory, but excused or normalized in practice. In some firms, you often hear lawyers yelling from offices down the hall, directed at other counsel, junior associates or even their own spouses. Anger and sadness are both emotions, but they’re treated very differently. Anger is mistaken for authority, while sadness is treated as incompetence.

Of course, I do not believe we should be overtly emotional in front of clients, judges or opposing counsel. Clients need us to remain calm and grounded. They are going through an emotionally challenging time, and they need a lawyer who they can trust to help them make clear-minded decisions. Before a judge, we never want our personal emotions to irritate them, muddy the issues or negatively impact our client’s case. And when dealing with opposing counsel, we do not want to appear driven by emotions, but by the facts and law.

However, emotions often show up at unexpected times. When our emotions surface in the workplace, where we are supposed to be among our team, how we are treated truly matters. Are we met with support and reassurance that we are doing difficult work and that emotional reactions are a human response? Or are we ridiculed, told to “man up” or ignored?

Law is a very demanding profession. What makes it unnecessarily harder is a highly competitive internal office environment where lawyers feel they are constantly being evaluated or compared. A difficult client can be tolerated for the duration of a phone call. But when you work in an unsupportive office for eight hours (or more) a day, that’s a much harder thing to endure.

My articling experience was nearly 20 years ago. I hope the profession has evolved since then and that lawyers are less likely to judge one another for having the occasional emotional response. A moment of support from your colleagues can make the difference between someone burning out and someone committing to the firm for the long haul.

Supportive workplaces do not require oversharing or awkward meetings. Often, it is something much simpler, like a senior lawyer who says, “That was a tough call, and you handled it well.” Or a colleague who notices your tension and offers to chat about it over coffee. The support that co-workers can offer one another is unique and irreplaceable because they know first-hand what it is like to work there.

Lawyers carry enormous responsibility for other people’s lives and livelihoods. Expecting them to do this work without ever having an emotional response is unrealistic. A profession that makes room for humanity is not less rigorous; it is more sustainable. For firm leaders, a supportive work environment should be viewed as a retention strategy, so cultivate one if you want lawyers who will keep signing back to your team.

Moira Cook is a former Toronto estate litigation lawyer and graduate of Osgoode Hall Law School. After experiencing burnout herself she left legal practice and eventually became a registered psychotherapist. She founded Cook Counselling to help other lawyers manage ADHD, anxiety and burnout while finding more balance and fulfillment in their work. Moira offers in-person sessions in Aurora, Ont., and downtown Toronto and virtual sessions across Ontario.

The opinions expressed are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of the author’s firm, its clients, LexisNexis Canada, Law360 Canada or any of its or their respective affiliates. This article is for general information purposes and is not intended to be and should not be taken as legal advice.

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