I haven’t the faintest idea why I became a lawyer. I’d signed up to be a management consultant after university and hated it. My brother said: ‘Why don’t you become a lawyer?’ I thought: ‘Oh, alright.’ Got as far as A in the directory and got work experience at Ashurst.
I’ve moved firms four times, which makes me sounds like a tart, but that’s across 24 years. I did about 14 at Ashurst.
I’ve never considered I’m good at law. I am good with clients and well organised, but I don’t think I’m an incredible lawyer. Seeing as I am a senior-ish partner in a good law firm, I must have done okay but I wake up surprised by it.
When I started [at Herbert Smith] there was a top ten, not a Magic Circle. I was pretty much among the first four or five lawyers to leave one of those firms. It was the London zombies. You all went there. Became a partner. Then you died, hopefully without seriously embarrassing yourself along the way.
Client service was terrible. You were lucky if one of those firms condescended to work for you. American firms arrived, did client service the way Americans do it and hoovered up because the clients loved it. Going to Weil Gotshal was fantastic because I learnt everything I know about looking after clients. Five years there and a whole bunch of us walked off in a hissy fit to Ashurst.
Fourteen years at Ashurst and I ended up being head of corporate, tax, antitrust and all sorts of weird things. Great firm! I loved it. Thought I would never leave.
I like people. I get on well with people and don’t tend to make enemies. In services industries, it’s two businesses. One is doing the work for clients, which pays the bills, and the other is keeping incredibly talented people who are all very ambitious and all very interesting.
Everybody in my team could have literally earnt three times as much in a heartbeat going to work at Simpson Thacher or similar and they get calls every day. But they don’t go because we really, really try to make them feel part of something. It’s not Ally McBeal but we go out a lot and it’s a fun place to be.
The law changes all the time and it’s tedious because they keep changing laws without making them any better.
Lawyers are perceived to be incredibly boring. I don’t think they are. They just have a job to do, which is a distressed purchase for clients. You don’t love lawyers, but usually you like them as individuals.
Law firms have different cultures. Someone ought to do a study on it because we all hire from the same pool, so over time should roughly end up having the same culture. But it doesn’t happen.
When I worked at Weil Gotshal there were about 15 associates the same age, all really fun people and that really was Ally McBeal. We worked, drank and everyone was going out with everyone else. The clients loved it because it was so salacious, but we worked incredibly hard.
Ashurst was probably the firm that changed the most while I was there. I joined pretty much on 9/11 and it felt old school. The partners’ dining room was a thing to comprehend; it didn’t quite have a butler but wasn’t far off. Charlie Geffen, Helen Burton and I put a lot of work into diversity. It really changed.
I rang one of my clients and said: ‘Why the hell did you give that deal to another lawyer?!’ He said: ‘Stephen, there are lots of really, really good lawyers.’
Sponsors are very hard clients. They’re very, very clever – all cleverer than me by a long way. They don’t just have a first, they have a star first and a summa cum laude from Harvard and they’re a Rhodes Scholar. You’ve got to be on your toes all the time.
What I really hate is when clients are rude to my team. I’ve had my team, male and female, repeatedly in tears over the last few months because people are being generally unpleasant for stuff that isn’t their fault. It’s hard not to take that home with you.
I rang one of my clients the other day and said: ‘Why the hell did you give that deal to another lawyer when I’m already doing the biggest thing you’re doing?!’ He said: ‘Stephen, there are lots of really, really good lawyers out there.’
I met David Morley for lunch out of politeness not because I had any intention of coming here. In an incredibly confident way he said: ‘We’ve got the balance sheet to do this. You can do this or we can get someone else. Your choice.’ We did far more deals and far better private equity deals than Latham and Simpson Thacher last year, the only firm that did the equivalent amount of good work would be Freshfields. Those firms will still say: ‘A&O doesn’t have private equity.’ Why wouldn’t they?
What do [law firms] see in me? I don’t know because I’m not even a particularly hard worker. It’s amazing how a bit of bluster can get you through. It worked for Boris Johnson.
We’re acting for people I never dreamt we would act for. I would have laughed if you told me we were doing deals for Apollo, Blackstone, Carlyle. Big American houses perceived as very close to American law firms and we’re doing big deals – repeat deals. I’ve just got my third instruction from Apollo. Who knew that was possible?
I have been frequently tempted to take a commercial role in private equity, but not at the moment. When I feel that I’ve become spurious to A&O’s requirements I’ll take myself off. When I’m 54 or 55 I’d love to do something like that, it’d be really fun.
At every stage I’ve had one absolutely amazing teacher or mentor. My mentor at Herbert Smith was David Willis. At Weil Gotshal it was Mike Francies, who was a great boss.
The person who had the most influence on my career is definitely Charlie Geffen. There are probably 30 current and ex-partners of Ashurst who, when they find themselves in a situation personally or professionally, will go: ‘What would Charlie do?’ Charlie would always do something different from everybody else. It’s usually either totally mad or a fantastic idea. On private equity and client service, there’s no-one even close to him on ability.
Charlie’s good on personal stuff too. He told me when his kids became teenagers: ‘Slamming doors is a form of communication.’ He’ll come out with little things like that which stick in your mind.
If you go out of your way never to be an asshole you get a reputation for not being an asshole and people do you favours. If you’re winning points your client doesn’t care about, you’re just wasting money and making yourself an asshole.
There are probably 30 current and ex-partners of Ashurst who, when they find themselves in a situation, will go: ‘What would Charlie do?’
I want my team to be recognised universally as one of the leading private equity teams. I’ve had my nose in the trough for a while, I’m okay, but I want the team to have really good careers. I want to stick around for another five years without getting fired.
I have an excellent work/life balance. Unless I’m really late on a deal I’m rarely in the office after 7pm, but I’m almost always working. I always have my phone in my pocket and I’ll always respond.
As a trainee, the senior partner at Herbert Smith told us law is a very narrowing profession. If you allow it, you will have nothing else in life. He said: ‘Keep going to the films, the plays or whatever is your thing.’ In my case, you have to keep repairing old cars or reading. I read a lot.
You can’t talk about the legal profession anymore as a homogenous group because it’s become so specialised. All the firms are going in different directions and have to grow in different ways.
What the Magic Circle will absolutely have to do is do an American thing. It’s just unavoidable, whether that’s a merger or hiring hundreds of American lawyers or getting lots of small firms. In this firm there’s not even a debate anymore as to whether we do it, the debate is about how we do it because it’s bloody hard.
The culture is based on the whole way people are compensated, so if we do a US thing we will have to have some cultural change. The lockstep culture is really strong here. People treasure it.
What a lot of lawyers starting out now won’t realise is they are not going to be a partner because everyone’s Type A. They’ve got straight As, never failed at anything, got a blue for rugby or they’re an opera singer or something. They’ll assume they’re going to be a partner. My advice would be always keep your options open. You may end up doing something totally different.
I’ve got a good friend who has had a difficult life. I always ask: ‘How do you manage it?’ She just says: ‘I don’t think about what happened yesterday, I just move on.’
madeleine.farman@legalease.co.uk
Stephen Lloyd is co-head of private equity at Allen & Overy