INSIGHT: The View From Below—A Discovery Attorney’s Journey

The e-discovery market is expected to grow into a nearly $11 billion industry by the year’s end, with that number projected to exceed $17 billion by 2023. But the attorneys and other professionals fueling that growth are often overlooked—passive players in the larger legal industry.

E-discovery has a lot of moving parts, including data collection, storage, hosting, and the many choices of review platforms. There are technologists who help manage, secure, and troubleshoot data, as well as project managers who oversee all aspects of the review process.

Nestled somewhere in this simplistic overview are the project attorneys and discovery team—namely, those who actually look at the documents—and in this group, you’ll find some who enjoy the work, and many more who don’t. I used to be one of those people who didn’t enjoy the work and, like many of them, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.

Think back to 2010, the year I graduated law school. The legal market was still struggling following the financial meltdown. Many of my friends had offers from big law firms rescinded or were forced into the limbo known as deferment.

With no prospects myself, I responded to a “document review” ad on Craigslist posted by an agency. I interviewed and started shortly thereafter on a project earning $27/hour—which was really good news, given that my now-wife and I had just signed a lease on an apartment that we needed to pay for.

Who Is Doing the Review?

Many reviews are staffed by third-party agencies. These agencies maintain a pool of potential candidates and price projects to a law firm based on what the market dictates. Depending on the firm, review projects are done onsite at a firm’s office or, more likely, at the agency’s office. The size and scope of every review varies based on time, needs of the case team, and ultimately, budget.

The people you meet in these reviews run the gamut. When I started, many people were in a similar situation—freshly barred and out of law school, and unable to land a gig at a firm, or recently let go. Most people were there trying to make ends meet while applying for “real jobs” and saw the review as “just a temporary thing.”

These people often sat together eight or more hours a day in a room that might only have enough room for half as many. Or they worked “warehouse” style, with rows upon rows of review stations.

But seating arrangements aside, it was the people that I remember. You had the guy or gal that loves to leave their workspace a mess with papers, food, and garbage. There was the solo practitioner who refuses to step out of the review space to take client calls and gave (bad) advice. There was also the person who constantly said, “this is just a temporary thing” and repeatedly reminded all of us that they went to a “Top 14” school.

As for the work, I was one of the lucky few who landed a project that lasted nearly three years, and then, the closest thing in my life to a full-time job. Of course, the reality of the practice came crashing down on us as the legal assistant rushed into our three-person office onsite at the law firm to excitedly announce that our client had settled. It quickly dawned on her what that meant to us, the hourly contractors—but three weeks later, after a bout of unemployment (one among many), I was on a new project.

In-House Teams

During that period, I, like many others, was applying to jobs for which I was grossly unqualified. Combine that exercise with my hilariously sparse resume consisting primarily of document reviews and I was lucky if I got a rejection letter, much less any reply at all.

Most large firms do not have in-house e-discovery groups—or if they do, most of the review is farmed out to agencies and whatever backend work remains is done in-house. The few firms that do have in-house e-discovery groups must be pickier with their candidates as their billing rates are higher and they often provide benefits, even to contractors.

The firm I work for had an in-house e-discovery group for several years before my arrival, which has quickly grown. The group comprises technologists, project managers, attorneys (senior and lower-level), counsel (senior associates), and a managing partner. The group handles most of the firm’s e-discovery work as well as projects from outside firms who don’t want to take the “use anyone” approach of agencies.

I started with the firm as a review attorney. A little less than a year later, I was promoted to discovery attorney. And, a little more than a year after that, I was one of the fortunate few to be hired full-time by the firm.

It took me six years of contract work to find a full-time position, and I certainly had my doubts regarding career choice. I cycled through many emotions, among them anger that I was six figures in debt after being “promised” a cushy six-figure job while in law school, depression during those aforementioned long bouts of unemployment, and general disdain toward a profession that felt unrewarding despite all my work.

In my current role I’m still largely doing document review, but I’ve started writing more memos, helping with deposition prep, and participating in other trial-level projects that would normally be reserved for junior associates. The advantage to the firm (and client) in using me for these projects is that my work product is just as good—and, most importantly, my billing rate is a fraction of an associate’s. I also engage in pro bono work through the firm, which has its own personal and professional rewards.

At the end of the day, though, most lawyers (at least those outside the firm) view me as a “doc review” attorney and are generally quick to dismiss me outright. In meeting new attorneys, I often don’t mention more than my firm’s name and the group I work in because their demeanor typically changes in a negative way when I explain that I’m not an associate or a partner. Even inside the firm, some have a negative view of the group for reasons I couldn’t explain beyond the nebulous “I’ve been burned before” quip. I billed clients for 2,200 hours this year—2,400 if you count pro bono, presentations, and other non-billables. Suffice it to say, I’ve put in the time—just as much as anyone else.

Conclusion

Fortunately, times are changing. My firm, at least, has created a career path for people like me and has leveraged my years of experience into a relatively lucrative business model. I’m in a position now where partners and associates, rather than snubbing me at social events, are asking specifically for me on a matter. Others in my group, as well as those outside of it, are supportive and treat me like a colleague. There is now a sense of progression, fulfillment, satisfaction, and camaraderie that took me awhile to discover.

Although I still deal with the negative perceptions of e-discovery on occasion, I no longer carry that sadness, depression, and anger that have plagued me. There is a path forward, and while it’s not yet clear to me where it leads, it’s no longer just a “temporary thing.” I urge people in and out of the industry to take a less cynical view of it; I have, and it’s made me a much happier person.

Author Information

Simon Joassin is a discovery attorney at Perkins Coie LLP in Chicago. He has experience in document review, including quality control and privilege review in commercial litigation and government inquiry matters.