Today, I’m talking with megastar trial lawyer Faith Gay. This is the third installment in my series on female partners—what motivates them to stay in the Big Law game and what drives them out.
When Faith Gay left her partnership at Quinn Emanuel Urquhart & Sullivan with nine other partners in 2018, the firm’s top dog memorably singled her out for a lashing. In a leaked email, John Quinn reminded Gay that the firm “made you a legal star,” adding, “during your time with us you were paid well over $100m—far more than you ever dreamed you could earn.”
It was a Pygmalion moment but also a tribute of sorts to Gay’s star status. Five years later, Eliza Doolittle and her firm Selendy Gay Elsberg seem to be going gangbusters. Now a 60-lawyer litigation boutique, the firm boasts high profits and an enviable diversity record. It’s also competing with Big Law for talent, regularly paying above the going rate of established firms.
In her distinctive Southern twang, Gay talked frankly about her outside status in Big Law, scrappy rainmaking methods, and unusual extracurricular activities. Here’s an edited version of our conversation.
You’ve done the scenic tour of Big Law: Besides Quinn, you were a partner at White & Case and Sidley Austin. It seems safe to say that Big Law isn’t your thing.
Keep in mind I didn’t opt out of Big Law until I was 57 years old! I didn’t leave those firms because I was unhappy. I did enjoy being a corporate litigator.
Yet you got the hell out. I keep hearing that Big Law remains unwelcoming to women. True?
All you need to do is look at the statistics. There are a zillion women in law schools, and a zillion of them in T-14 law schools. And women have better grades. But you don’t find their numbers reflected in partnerships in traditional law firms.
Some of that is because of the type of [male-dominated] clients firms have—finance or private equity clients. But a lot has to do with the institutional atmosphere, the culture of firms. You can have an employee manual that says all the right things about diversity, equity, and inclusion but you don’t find that in reality.
Your firm seems to be unusually successful on the women and diversity front.
Yes, about half of the equity is owned by women, and women lead practice groups. Maria Ginzburg is our new managing partner, and women are key business generators. About a quarter of our lawyers are LGBTQ+. And one-fifth of our summers identify as people of color and LGBTQ+, and there are two veterans.
How is it your firm can achieve this level of diversity while big firms struggle?
Well, it’s pretty obvious who’s at the top of our firm—and that provides comfort to women, LGBTQ+ members, and other diverse candidates. Secondly, when we interview candidates, we ask them to write on a legal issue, and we review [the analysis] without knowing their identities, and that screens out bias.
We reach out to deans, administrators, and the legal community [to find diverse candidates]. We seek a broader pool of law schools that are not necessarily in the T-14. The amount of time and effort we put into recruiting is extraordinary. If other firms did the same, they would have the same result.
You mentioned the symbolic power of having a woman as a named partner. That leads to my perennial question: Do women lead differently?
That’s the kind of question that stumps me. Let me say this: I’m used to more challenges than a White man. I say that as a Southerner and a gay woman.
I grew up on a farm, and my transition to New York and Big Law was not without bumps. My family was not a white collar family. When I graduated from law school in 1986, it wasn’t cool to be a gay person. People weren’t out at that time. And for women, there were no role models.
I had to figure out a path—how to develop a career, how to succeed in a corporate setting—that was not well-trodden. Many people in elite firms have not experienced adversity. That doesn’t serve you well when you’re dealing with clients who’ve made serious mistakes and are facing difficult situations. Having that bumpy ride contributed to my empathy and fluidity.
You’re also known as a spectacular rainmaker. What’s your secret?
Realizing that no client would be passed down to me. I had to make my own way. I didn’t want to be subject to the firm’s vicissitudes, so I decided the best thing is to have a direct relationship with clients.
Early on, I also took on a bunch of cases that no one wanted. And I was disciplined about client development. Every day I wasn’t on trial, I made sure I did outreach to clients. It was completely rigorous. But I think women are good at time management, because they have so many competing demands that they have to attend to.
Speaking of juggling, you and your wife are parents to a son. Did you feel the tension of parenthood versus career?
Yes, every day. You always feel that pressure. I’m helped by an extraordinary partner. It also helped that I was so old when I became a parent. I was 48! I had been through being at the bottom of the pile. It helps to have power. I’m gentler and more flexible.
Since you left Quinn, there’s been an upsurge of women leading major firms. Is that a hopeful sign that a new day is dawning?
You see some positive changes with women at the top—like Kalpana Srinivasan of Susman Godfrey. But you have to look carefully whether they’re figureheads. Sometimes with the best of intentions, Big Law puts women in administrative positions with the idea of giving them leadership roles. But that takes away from their time for business development.
Every moment you’re spending on administrative work—running the summer associate program or filling out Am Law surveys—and not cultivating client relationships, you’re losing valuable opportunities. The trappings of power are no substitute for actual power.
So can you imagine a day when women will actually be leading close to 50% of major firms? Or is that a pipe dream?
I don’t foresee 40% or 50% of law firms being led by a woman in my lifetime. They have other competing values—and I don’t mean just children. They see the world differently from men. It will be one step forward and one step backward.
Not exactly an upbeat prognosis. Let’s end with a frothy Barbara Walters-type question: If you weren’t a lawyer, what would you be?
I have a little aviation business in upstate New York. I do sculling. I’m also an ordained minister. I went to Yale Divinity School while I was at Quinn. I have an interest in world ministry.
Stop. You got a divinity degree while you were at Quinn? I guess you weren’t busy enough. What’s with the ministering gig?
During Covid, I spent a year subbing as a minister in Cooperstown, N.Y. I now preach at least once a month.
I believe there are a lot of opportunities to do good beyond legal services. When I went to divinity school I thought it would be a complete separation from my life as a lawyer. But divinity school attracts an extremely diverse population. I was shoulder to shoulder with people who had different views about ethics, logic, and the right way to conduct your life. The experience deepened my skills as a lawyer.
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