Law360 Canada (July 31, 2026, 9:16 AM EDT) --
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| Marcel Strigberger |
What is it like to practise law as a solo practitioner? Short answer: it’s a bit different than working at Big Law.
I actually articled at a Big Law firm in downtown Toronto. I had initially hoped to be invited back as an associate upon getting called to the bar in the mid 1970s. The firm had some blue-chip clients, including banks and several mining companies. However, after my articles stint was completed, all I got was a handshake from a junior partner along with a “good luck.”
I think their decision about not embracing me was in part because I must have expressed minimal interest in their clients. I recall the reception area had magazines about the mining industry. Some bigwig must have noticed me looking at one with a feature article on the front cover reading something like “Mexico has adequate reserves of zinc.” I doubt I jumped on the reception desk and emitted a Rocky cheer.
And so, what were my options? I had lunch with my good mentor, Hank, a senior criminal lawyer. He asked if I’d considered going out on my own, solo. I recall his words: “Why would you want to be anybody’s underling?”
Then again, as much as I valued independence, I had some concerns. I had recently become a father, and I thought it might be beneficial if some money came in as at least I would earn a salary as an underling.
Then again, along with death and taxes, there was the third certainty to worry about — overhead.
I paid a visit to my bank manager. He was somewhat impressed with the fact that I’d spent some time at that Big Law firm and agreed to offer me a line of credit. During the discussion, I did not disclose my modified rapture for mining companies or banks.
To save some expenses, I rented a small office in a space-sharing situation with a couple of other lawyers who practised corporate/commercial law. They undertook to send me some agency litigation work.
I recall my first day of practice. I got to the office, and my first impression was that as a solo, I was going to be fully on my own. I thought about a lighthouse keeper. I figured the main distinguishable feature between my downtown Toronto office and a lighthouse was the missing ocean.
As I was setting up some books and papers, one of the lawyers asked if I could meet with a client of his who had recently broken up with her husband. After a brief hesitation, I responded, “I think I can fit her in.”
The lady was pleasant, and her case had good potential. The little problem with her was that she was an avid smoker. I always hated smoke, but I thought in this instance there might be some wisdom in sucking it up, literally. I thought about my newborn son, and I did not want to have to explain to him down the road why I could never afford to get him a bicycle. I even asked her what brand the cigarette was. Showing this interest in the client led to her returning the compliment by offering me a cigarette. I graciously declined.
Fortunately, in time my practice started to develop. I soon became friendly with a few non-litigation lawyers, and they also referred some clients to me.
Advertising legal services was not permitted then. But then again, how would my ad have read given that I was a total newbie? “Need a lawyer? Call me. I have minimal experience.”
Fortunately, by degrees my litigation practice grew. And I did not mind arriving daily to my lighthouse.
I did think about what working at Big Law might have been like. I would have had some advantages. One plus in Big Law is resources. These firms have extensive libraries. I recall the firm where I articled having a copy of a book called something like
The Law of Horses, 1908 edition. My book stash in my nook was a lot leaner. I never sprang for this tome (though tempted).
Another plus is staff support. I would attend at a motion or trial or discovery, and it was not unusual for Big Law to arrive with an entourage including an associate lawyer, a law clerk and a student. The only thing missing was the fanfare trumpets. I was there all alone. I somewhat identified with that Dickens character in
Great Expectations, Miss Havisham. No problem.
Big Law also often had access to primary to-die-for seat tickets at sporting events. I always had to watch hockey games on television if I wanted to see the Maple Leafs lose. Then again, I had friends in Big Law who would say they had to pass on these tickets often as they had to stay and work that evening. Which gets me to some Big Law minuses.
Firstly, there is the obsession to bill clients. The lawyers must have 1,800 or 2,000 or whatever billable hours to earn their keep. In my practice, I would arrive at the office after a leisurely breakfast, take my time enjoying lunch, then go for a brisk walk, and leave when I chose. And on occasion, I would even be the beneficiary of a pair of those hockey tickets from my Big Law pal.
Another minus is the not-uncommon lack of mentorship. The senior lawyers are often too busy or too disinterested in mentoring their juniors. Some of these juniors would even call me with a legal question. I would be flattered and of course do my best to share my wisdom with them. I would ask why they couldn’t run it by some guru at their office, and they would say something like, “Are you kidding? I can’t show them that I don’t know.”
I saw their concern. They all want “to make partner.” And to make partner, no doubt, you can’t look like a blockhead.
And so, would I recommend to a fresh lawyer going out on his or her own right off the bat?
I can’t say one way or the other. I am grateful that it worked for me and that I was able to practise independently for over four decades. However, I think about a comment by Mark Twain who said, “All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence, and then success is sure.”
I was certainly ignorant.
Marcel Strigberger retired from his Greater Toronto Area litigation practice and continues the more serious business of humorous author and speaker. His book Boomers, Zoomers, and Other Oomers: A Boomer-biased Irreverent Perspective on Aging is available on Amazon (e-book) and in paper version. His new(!) book First, Let’s Kill the Lawyer Jokes: An Attorney’s Irreverent Serious Look at the Legal Universe is available on Amazon, Apple and other book places. Visit www.marcelshumour.com. Follow him on X: @MarcelsHumour.
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