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Thursday August 22, 2024

Beyond the billable hour

This profession has more than often been romanticized as a world of intellectual rigour

By Ayman Zafar
July 16, 2024
A representational image of women lawyers during a demonstration. — AFP/File
A representational image of women lawyers during a demonstration. — AFP/File

If you fortunately, or unfortunately, work in the legal profession (that’s for you to decide) and have stumbled upon this piece of writing, hold on a little longer. You might just understand and be able to resonate with a few thoughts I have been holding on to, for quite some time now.

This profession has more than often been romanticized as a world of intellectual rigour, compelling courtroom dramas, and the pursuit of justice. However, beneath this polished exterior lies an unspoken realization: lawyers and burnout.

Earlier last week, I sat across my colleagues (read: friends at work necessary for survival), and the conversation ran much deeper than surface level. The key takeaway from it all is: why is it that people (read lawyers) working at zero-level capacity, with nothing more to give, still feel compelled to give their all -- not for themselves, but for others and to others -- even though they can no longer do so?

“You grow through what you go through”, they say. But what happens when the growth stops? When you hit a roadblock and feel stuck? Or when you feel as though you can’t function in your current state any longer? Why is it that late working hours are glorified, staying past clock-out time is applauded, and functioning in survival mode is seen as the norm? If you are not working in this manner, you are apparently doing it wrong.

Just recently, during another ‘I can’t do this any longer’ conversation with a friend -- more like another session of rambling and puzzle-solving to make each other feel better -- we simply tried to wrap our heads around a frustrating truth. Why is it that feeling down, low, or just not yourself is not considered to be a valid and good enough reason to take a day off work? Why do we have to justify needing a break to simply recharge and return feeling like ourselves again? Why is there a stigma around taking a mental health day to cope with the pressures of everyday life?

In the legal profession, in particular, there is an unspoken expectation that if you are not burning the midnight oil, you are not committed enough. Measuring an individual’s growth and capabilities by the number of hours they invest at the workplace is nothing new. It is a familiar story, one we have all experienced or witnessed at some point in our careers. When long work hours are seen as a badge of honour, it leads to a culture where we feel compelled to stay late, not because the work demands it, but because the culture has set this precedent. Though I believe (and you might too), it is high time this outdated metric was discarded and made obsolete.

One evening at dinner with a friend, I found myself on edge, constantly checking my phone each time it buzzed. Eventually, my friend intervened, asking why I was so anxious. Shockingly, to my surprise (shocked because when I think about it in retrospect, I am disappointed, to say the least, at my response) -- I explained that, even on a late Saturday evening, approximately around 11pm, I felt overwhelming guilt for not immediately checking and responding to work emails that had been filling up my inbox for the past hour or so. Not so surprisingly, then, this led to a thought-provoking conversation, where my friend pointed out just how unhealthy this behaviour was.

Alternatively, one could take a cue from a friend of mine who has never installed the email app on their phone to begin with. Meaning, they only respond to emails strictly speaking, even urgent ones (unless it’s a ‘life and death’ situation) when they have access to their laptop. It is a stroke of genius. It is a simple yet ingenious approach that begs the question: in a profession where constant availability can blur the lines between an individual’s work and personal life, could setting boundaries allow us to prioritize what truly matters and fully embrace being present in the moment?

The solution begins with us, as individuals, where we need to recognize our limits and permit ourselves to step back when necessary. I believe it is about acknowledging that taking care of your mind and body is a crucial part of maintaining your effectiveness and passion for the work you do.

Unfortunately, for many of us, setting boundaries is easier said than done. There is an inherent guilt and pressure that builds up gradually, creeping into our systems and making us feel undeserving of a break. We internalize the expectation that we must always be available, always ready to handle the next emergency or stay late to finish that one last task.

Another significant challenge that I have personally witnessed and experienced is how the culture of praising long working hours creates an additional layer of struggle for women in the legal profession. Despite the developments made in recent times, taking the appointment of the first female chief justice of the Lahore High Court into consideration, or the fact that it took only 75 years before we welcomed our first female justice in the hallowed halls of the Supreme Court, women continue to face numerous barriers to establishing their presence and credibility in the legal field.

Thi is especially the case where senior lawyers often commence critical work of substance well after regular office hours, which more often than not leads to numerous missed opportunities for female members of the team, simply because they are unable to stay past a certain hour at the office. Consequently, they are often unfairly labelled as having a ‘non-serious attitude’ or ‘not being a team player’. The result: women who are left shouldering the burden of guilt, yet again.

This persisting sense of guilt is unsustainable, for both men and women in the profession. It not only leads to burnout, decreased productivity, and even resentment towards the work we once did so enthusiastically, but also undermines the confidence and clarity essential for effective legal practice. To liberate ourselves from this cycle, we must first allow ourselves to prioritize our mental and physical well-being. To reiterate what I just said earlier, it is about understanding that rest and recovery are not luxuries but necessities for long-term success and fulfilment.

Although, if I were to be honest, even the idea of simply resting, feels like an unattainable luxury. Unfortunately, the demands of the legal profession often leave little room for stepping away from the relentless pace of work to which our minds and bodies have become attuned. For those outside the legal field reading this and thinking, ‘You chose this path, so why complain?’. While it is true we made this choice, the ingrained culture and work dynamics within this profession warrant critical reflection and demand serious reconsideration.

So, as I close this piece at 4am on a workday, savouring a rare moment of quiet, I remind myself and those within this area of practice: prioritizing your wellbeing is not selfish, it is strategic. As you seek that elusive balance, thriving both within and outside the courtroom, remains your pursuit. Time to catch (some) sleep; work awaits bright and early. Back to reality.

The writer is a lawyer, currently practising in Lahore. She can be reached at:

aymanzafar46@gmail.com