Outside the Law School Scam has many readers, many devoted readers, and we’re very grateful for the rapidly-increasing page views and the fact that this site is making waves. But I suspect that many readers, although understanding the message that a JD is a bad decision, have still applied to law school and will soon be figuring out which school to attend this coming fall. There’s still a massive disconnect between understanding that the legal profession is a miserable place to spend a career, and the belief that those generalities only apply to everyone else. The very fact that law schools will still be able to fill their seats this year, despite a large portion of those incoming students having read this site and the other such blogs, is proof enough.
And I suspect that the reason for the disconnect is because we’re trying to convince you that you’re average, and nobody likes to hear that. Most of you are – you’ll end up in the middle of your law school class – yet you believe that you’re better than average, or lucky, or harder-working. You see that the general outcome for JD grads still allows for the slight possibility of your own personal success, and you’re willing to take that chance.
How to convince you otherwise? That’s the problem. We’re trying to tell you that your future will be worse than you expect it to be, but we don’t have a crystal ball that can predict your own personal outcome with much certainty. On average, we can fairly accurately predict that your chances of actually getting a job practicing law are similar to a coin toss landing on heads rather than tails. One in two. And we can fairly accurately predict that the average legal career, even if lucky enough to find a paying law job, will be far shorter than expected, far lower paid, and far more stressful and unpleasant. But those generalities are often useless because they lack a quantifiable, individual aspect. Something to personally tie you to the scam.
So let’s look at something that should highlight the unfairness of law school before you even set foot in the door. Something that will give you a quantifiable, predictable, accurate and extremely personal measure of whether you should attend or not. Let’s look at how much you’re paying for law school. Or to be more precise, how much you’re paying relative to the other students at your school.
This post began with a comment I read here on this site a few days ago:
Of course, we’re talking about the reverse Robin Hood effect, neatly summarized by Professor Tamahana here. In essence, those who are most unlikely to succeed are paying full price, while those who are most likely to succeed are having their costs subsidized by the future failures. The future poor are paying for the future rich.
And you know which group you’re in before you even set foot in law school. You know exactly where you stand. It’s simple: if you’re paying full price for law school, the school wants your tuition money to pay for scholarships for the brighter students. That’s personal. The school is using you. Yes, you, not some general large group of students you can dissociate yourself from somehow. The school is targeting you.
And indirectly, the school is telling you more than how it merely wants you for your money. It’s telling you that it doesn’t think you’ll be successful. It’s telling you that it would prefer to pander to some smart kid who will go off into biglaw or politics and who will look back on his or her days at the school fondly when writing big donation checks in a decade. You? You’ll be too busy paying off your loans and complaining about life as a struggling solo practitioner to even consider giving a dime to your alma mater.
Consider the unfairness of this, all you applicants who don’t receive any scholarship money. If you’re not getting a discount, the school is using you. The other students are using you. Everyone is using you. You're the fat, rich, older guy at the party who ends up realizing - too late - that you're there only to pick up the bar tab, not because anyone thinks you're cool or interesting. You're a dollar sign. You’re essentially paying far more for your degree than it’s actually worth, just so someone else can pay far less for their degree. And if that’s not bad enough, the students who receive the scholarships are more likely to succeed in law school than those who don’t: ignore the claims that law school grades are random, because they kinda aren’t. The smart kids tend to do well in law school, just like they did in college, and the dummies tend to do less well, although they are more than capable of bringing large sums of tuition dollars to the law school.
And you know which group you fall into before you even set foot in law school. You know before 1L begins whether you’re in the “winners” or “losers” category; this isn't some vague generalization from which you can escape. If you’re receiving a sizeable scholarship, you’re a winner. Your degree will cost less. And if you’re not receiving a scholarship, you’re a loser. Your degree will cost more. It’s that simple. Just some basic math, something that you can apply to your own personal situation as soon as those offers of admission start rolling in.
If you do not receive a scholarship, don’t go to that law school. End of story. There’s no vague predictions there, no exceptions to the general rule, no opportunities to work hard and show everyone what you’re made of. The school has told you, in your admissions letter, whether it is going to treat you like a winner or a dupe. Without a scholarship, you’re just a cash donkey bringing in baskets of student loan money that the school is essentially giving to students far smarter than you. Do you see how insulting that is? How unfair? Do you want to be treated like an ATM that the school is dipping into, drawing out your student loan dollars which you’ll have to repay, and turning around and giving it to someone else? Someone who is far more likely than you to end up with a well-paid job at the end of the three years?
So if you’re still struggling with that internal dialog, “I know that the average outcomes are poor, but a lot can happen in three years and I’m a really hard worker and far more than my undergraduate GPA and LSAT and I believe in myself,” then start to look at the math behind what you’re paying for law school. Because the very fact that you didn’t get an offer of a scholarship means the school is specifically, personally treating you badly from the very start. It wants your money, not you. The school doesn't believe in you.
Don’t let that happen. Don’t get ripped off. If your school is asking you to pay full price, you should be angry that they’re using you, not grateful for the opportunity. How much more personal could it get?
And I suspect that the reason for the disconnect is because we’re trying to convince you that you’re average, and nobody likes to hear that. Most of you are – you’ll end up in the middle of your law school class – yet you believe that you’re better than average, or lucky, or harder-working. You see that the general outcome for JD grads still allows for the slight possibility of your own personal success, and you’re willing to take that chance.
How to convince you otherwise? That’s the problem. We’re trying to tell you that your future will be worse than you expect it to be, but we don’t have a crystal ball that can predict your own personal outcome with much certainty. On average, we can fairly accurately predict that your chances of actually getting a job practicing law are similar to a coin toss landing on heads rather than tails. One in two. And we can fairly accurately predict that the average legal career, even if lucky enough to find a paying law job, will be far shorter than expected, far lower paid, and far more stressful and unpleasant. But those generalities are often useless because they lack a quantifiable, individual aspect. Something to personally tie you to the scam.
So let’s look at something that should highlight the unfairness of law school before you even set foot in the door. Something that will give you a quantifiable, predictable, accurate and extremely personal measure of whether you should attend or not. Let’s look at how much you’re paying for law school. Or to be more precise, how much you’re paying relative to the other students at your school.
This post began with a comment I read here on this site a few days ago:
Parents paying full tuition for their kids will realize that they are subsidizing other students who get the discounts. They will be angry.
Of course, we’re talking about the reverse Robin Hood effect, neatly summarized by Professor Tamahana here. In essence, those who are most unlikely to succeed are paying full price, while those who are most likely to succeed are having their costs subsidized by the future failures. The future poor are paying for the future rich.
And you know which group you’re in before you even set foot in law school. You know exactly where you stand. It’s simple: if you’re paying full price for law school, the school wants your tuition money to pay for scholarships for the brighter students. That’s personal. The school is using you. Yes, you, not some general large group of students you can dissociate yourself from somehow. The school is targeting you.
And indirectly, the school is telling you more than how it merely wants you for your money. It’s telling you that it doesn’t think you’ll be successful. It’s telling you that it would prefer to pander to some smart kid who will go off into biglaw or politics and who will look back on his or her days at the school fondly when writing big donation checks in a decade. You? You’ll be too busy paying off your loans and complaining about life as a struggling solo practitioner to even consider giving a dime to your alma mater.
Consider the unfairness of this, all you applicants who don’t receive any scholarship money. If you’re not getting a discount, the school is using you. The other students are using you. Everyone is using you. You're the fat, rich, older guy at the party who ends up realizing - too late - that you're there only to pick up the bar tab, not because anyone thinks you're cool or interesting. You're a dollar sign. You’re essentially paying far more for your degree than it’s actually worth, just so someone else can pay far less for their degree. And if that’s not bad enough, the students who receive the scholarships are more likely to succeed in law school than those who don’t: ignore the claims that law school grades are random, because they kinda aren’t. The smart kids tend to do well in law school, just like they did in college, and the dummies tend to do less well, although they are more than capable of bringing large sums of tuition dollars to the law school.
And you know which group you fall into before you even set foot in law school. You know before 1L begins whether you’re in the “winners” or “losers” category; this isn't some vague generalization from which you can escape. If you’re receiving a sizeable scholarship, you’re a winner. Your degree will cost less. And if you’re not receiving a scholarship, you’re a loser. Your degree will cost more. It’s that simple. Just some basic math, something that you can apply to your own personal situation as soon as those offers of admission start rolling in.
If you do not receive a scholarship, don’t go to that law school. End of story. There’s no vague predictions there, no exceptions to the general rule, no opportunities to work hard and show everyone what you’re made of. The school has told you, in your admissions letter, whether it is going to treat you like a winner or a dupe. Without a scholarship, you’re just a cash donkey bringing in baskets of student loan money that the school is essentially giving to students far smarter than you. Do you see how insulting that is? How unfair? Do you want to be treated like an ATM that the school is dipping into, drawing out your student loan dollars which you’ll have to repay, and turning around and giving it to someone else? Someone who is far more likely than you to end up with a well-paid job at the end of the three years?
So if you’re still struggling with that internal dialog, “I know that the average outcomes are poor, but a lot can happen in three years and I’m a really hard worker and far more than my undergraduate GPA and LSAT and I believe in myself,” then start to look at the math behind what you’re paying for law school. Because the very fact that you didn’t get an offer of a scholarship means the school is specifically, personally treating you badly from the very start. It wants your money, not you. The school doesn't believe in you.
Don’t let that happen. Don’t get ripped off. If your school is asking you to pay full price, you should be angry that they’re using you, not grateful for the opportunity. How much more personal could it get?
Charles Cooper is the author, along with Thane Messinger, of “Con Law: Avoiding...or Beating...the Scam of the Century (The Real Student's Guide to Law School and the Legal Profession)”, in addition to being the moderator at Nontradlaw.net and the author of “Later in Life Lawyers”. He can be contacted atcharlescooperauthor@gmail.com.