(All names and identities have been altered to preserve anonymity)
The invoice looked familiar. The description of goods, the dollar value, the formatting … I was sure I had seen those details somewhere else. I re-inspected the document bundle. My hunch was confirmed. Our opponent had submitted another invoice with the same particulars, save for a different serial number and date. Closer inspection revealed tampering – I had caught our opponent trying to cheat in court!
Being a trial lawyer was all I had ever wanted to be since my teens (except for that fleeting thought of becoming a pilot so I could fly Mom all over the world). I graduated from law school in Singapore in 1993. The path ahead was paved and predictable. I joined the best litigation practices in town, completed my practical training, and started working on real cases.
I spent over three years in private legal practice. There was a sense of importance about going to work everyday in formal clothes. I believed then, as I do now, that lawyering was a noble calling. To do it well was to be part of a mission that had served societies since antiquity.
With my father at my Bar admission ceremony,
in the old Singapore Supreme Court building, May 1994
I apprenticed with some of the most prominent litigation lawyers in Singapore. I observed that their management styles differed widely. There were partners who explained carefully what needed to be done each step along the way. Others trained through example, letting me tag along to client meetings and court appearances. Some would correct my work extensively, returning drafts with pagefuls of redlined edits. And then there was the partner who delegated extensively. With him, my submissions received no vetting before being recited verbatim in open court. I appreciated his faith in my abilities, but I doubt his clients would have approved.
While it was nice and good to work with partners and senior lawyers, I also learnt much through the associates, clerks, secretaries and support staff that surrounded them. These colleagues were a godsend in helping me meet the requirements of busy superiors. Often, a partner would just tell me to “go talk to Ronnie, he will know what to do,” Ronnie being the veteran who knew the court filings system inside-out. There was also Katherine, the trusted paralegal who patiently showed me how different bosses liked certain clauses to look this way or that. And let’s not forget the secretaries, the gatekeepers for the partners. You never got any airtime with the bosses unless you were on-side with Wai Leng, Teresa or Sindy. The stars of the legal profession may dazzle, but lawyering is definitely a team sport.
Litigation work was not unbearably demanding nor challenging. The hours were long but very manageable for a young and energetic me. I enjoyed the performative aspects of the job. The black suits, the flowing court robes, winning arguments, rebutting opponents, advocating in the wood-panelled court rooms of the old Supreme Court (now repurposed as the National Gallery Singapore). I ate it all up.
Alas, as every law practitioner would testify, court time takes up not more than five percent of a litigator’s hours. The unremarkable tasks which occupied the other 95 percent of my days were hardly inspiring. They largely involved research, drafting, and lots of document management chores (collating and checking documents, photocopying, indexing, bundling and binding, etc.). From a business standpoint, it was work that was rightfully delegated to the cheapest and most junior resources in the firm, i.e., the likes of me. But recognising that did not make me any happier doing the work.
By 1996, as I entered my third year in law practice, my girlfriend (now wife) and I had decided to fulfil our long-held dream of living in the USA. We married and I got myself admitted into NYU’s master in laws programme. Paying NYU’s fees emptied our bank accounts; we even had to borrow money for the year’s living expenses. Happily, our youthful optimism, plus the high of wanderlust, made poverty and debt irrelevant. But unhappily, as we prepared to leave Singapore, our plans distracted me from my responsibilities. I missed deadlines, neglected some client requests, and my work quality declined. My supervisors called me out on that. I was embarrassed, to say the least. I did not have it in me, nor did I understand the importance then, of finishing well. Not ending this early career phase with my best is something I still regret.
What my 20s taught me about leadership (Part 1 of 2):
School hardly prepares you for work. Your first jobs are fertile grounds for cultivating good (or bad) habits. Observe your managers carefully for they have much to teach you. Discern right from wrong and commit to model only the best practices.
Bosses and superstars aside, there is much to learn from the quiet doers in your team. You will need everyone’s support to do well. Be humble and respectful to all, for nobody is obliged to help you succeed.
Many jobs come with attractive façades that signal status and achievement. It might be a special uniform, a unique lingo, a promised lifestyle, or a nice office. Do not let these shiny things entrap you. Pierce through the superficial, examine the work closely, and be honest with yourself: Does the job speak to you?
Ending well is as important as starting well. Regardless of what you may be moving on to next, always end what you are doing now on a high note. Plan for tomorrow but give yourself fully to today.
What did your 20s teach you about leadership?
The next article in my mid-career retrospective series, covering the second part of my 20s, will drop on 26 October 2024. Subscribe to my newsletter to be notified.
(This article is part of a mid-career retrospective series on my professional life. Each article in the series recounts events in one decade of my career. At the end of each piece, I summarise what those events taught me about leadership. All articles in this series are hosted on my blog.)
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As a leadership consultant and coach, I help organisations and individuals use good leadership practices to succeed. Email me to discuss how we can work together.
