Kill all the Lawyers
My wife and I were in law school together for two years, which provided an opportunity to take classes together and discuss the law. Tara analyzed legal scenarios with speed and accuracy, a reflection of her talents. And while she discerned the outcomes as they were according to case law or the applicable statute, I most often countered with what the answers should be.
My inclinations in mind and heart have long included a love of policy. Researching why systems operate the way they do and probing for potential improvements is a pursuit that seldom feels like work to me. So it is of little surprise that public policy is a significant focus in my career. Since 2008, I have worked on behalf of municipalities in the Kansas Legislature—first with the League of Kansas Municipalities and now with the Kansas Association of Counties.
During my time in the statehouse, I hear often from friends and acquaintances that we have too many lawyers involved in politics: “No offense,” they say, “but Shakespeare had it right; ‘The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.’” I’m too thick skinned to take offense from such statements, but the English major in me suspects Shakespeare might.
Shakespeare’s famous line from Henry VI takes place after Jack Cade—false pursuer of the throne—announces his idyllic rule: “I thank you, good people: there shall be no money; all shall eat and drink on my score; and I will apparel them all in one livery, that they may agree like brothers and worship me their lord.” His henchman, Dick the Butcher, then offers the famous line: “The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.” His retort explains that the only way Cade’s unrealistic kingdom might be possible is by eliminating reason and legal adherence by way of eliminating lawyers.
I am concerned that while we have not yet witnessed a mass extermination of lawyers, we have witnessed the same effect in how we form laws in Kansas. It is striking—or perhaps ought to be—how rare it is for attorneys to serve in the Kansas Legislature, county commissions, or city councils. Despite the perception that there are too many lawyers involved, the opposite is quite pervasive and problematic. Lawyers possess specific training on statutes, case law, and the structures of government. Even if a lawyer has never drafted legislation, there are still tools of the trade that predict how practitioners and the courts might implement the laws. If we collectively cede this responsibility, the effect is the same as Shakespeare’s template for a ruler without rule.
A failure by lawyers to engage in the law-making process has the same effect on the rule of law as killing all the lawyers. Regardless of political affiliation, I long to see more lawyers participate in making the laws. Increasingly, I care less about political labels and care more about finding people who listen critically and ask questions thoughtfully. Whether conservative or liberal, lawyers often have analytic talents, which is just what we need to create laws that properly serve our state and our communities.
The preamble to Rule 226 in the Kansas Rules of Professional Conduct specifies a lawyer’s responsibility as “an officer of the legal system and a public citizen having special responsibility for the quality of justice.” The rule further emphasizes that lawyers should strive “to improve the law and the legal profession and to exemplify the legal profession's ideals of public service.” This is a pursuit that unifies our profession so that our legal system includes a lawyer’s expertise in reason and procedure—two hallmarks of a well-functioning society.
Despite my Pollyannaish imploring, there is a selfish element to my writing. I love public policy and enjoy sharing hearty discourse with others who share my passion. It is part of why I found law-school discussions with my wife so engaging. I know many lawyers claim To Kill a Mockingbird as their favorite movie, but I hope that a few who prefer Mr. Smith Goes to Washington will engage in lawmaking to also share in the conversation.
Shakespeare concludes Jack Cade’s scene by hanging Emmanuel, the Clerk of Chatham, for his ability to read and write. This is an absurd conclusion. And it is similarly absurd for lawyers to disengage from policymaking, which increases the risk of folly in crafting the laws that shape this land. Over the next year, I intend to highlight attorneys who have given their time in public service. Whether it is the Kansas Legislature, a municipal governing body, or a non-profit board, we need lawyers who are willing to “to improve the law and the legal profession.” If we fail to do so, we may not face a literal end like the Clerk of Chatham. But we risk complicity in a creating a system of laws where the resulting lack of reason is the same.
