Growing pains

His City practice is booming and a potentially transformative merger looms – but doubt begins to creep in. Michael Simmons continues reminiscing…

Dealing with the consequences of growth was a continuing problem. If I over-recruited it gave me some slack, but the cost of salaries hit the bottom line. If we were short of lawyers, we risked losing the reputation for efficiency that had attracted the work in the first place. If I got lawyers and work in balance, I then had to deal with the problem of a creaking administration that could not cope.

It was impossible to relax for a moment, but I was greatly helped by recruiting Eric B, a former tax inspector. He was 100% loyal and became my eyes and ears. Sadly, he was not computer-literate and, as the firm expanded, I urged him to take early retirement. He died three months later and I lost a loyal colleague.

I had never wanted to be the sole proprietor. As the years passed, I steadily reduced my share of the equity by disposing of segments to incoming partners who were considered sufficiently worthy. The banks were happy to lend them their capital contribution, which allowed me to withdraw my excess and undrawn funds which had been building up in the firm. I still retained enough equity to leave me in control. That is perhaps why I was left to run the firm on my own – a rather lonely existence.

I was approached by Samuel K, who was a sole practitioner over the river in Blackfriars. He had been ill and needed a break. Although his practice was very different, I agreed to take it on. We could use it for some of our lesser-paying work.

Running that practice was ideal experience for senior trainees, who needed just a little supervision. They were so enthusiastic they redecorated the premises in their own time, uncovering some previously concealed Georgian plaster statues.

The clientele was very different. During the football season, if Crystal Palace lost at home there would always be an influx of battered wives in the waiting room on Monday morning.

His clients had loved Sam, even though he had been too ill to handle their work efficiently for some time. After we took over, there were 23 complaints to the Law Society within three months. Clients would never complain about Sam but the new perceived faceless entity – our firm – was fair game. We soon had things running efficiently.

Meanwhile, back north of the river, we were again facing an accommodation problem. As we continued to expand, we were having to share ever smaller offices and this was becoming increasingly inefficient.

At this time, I was introduced to the senior partners of S & Co, a well-known West End firm specialising in commercial property that was no longer doing so well following the death of its founder. With our recent increase in turnover and personnel, the two firms were about the same size.

I dressed it up as a merger of equals, but it was really a takeover as our dynamic was needed to rescue them from falling further behind. It was agreed that I was to be managing partner, while Tony C and Nigel C, two of S & Co’s senior partners, were very grateful we were taking control.

As negotiations continued, that gratitude swiftly evaporated and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. The third senior partner, Gerald M, was a tax specialist who had been away. The other two were keen that I should meet him and that we would get on well. We organised a ‘getting to know you’ party for the partners and staff of both firms. Gerald M was present, but he completely ignored me throughout the evening. It was very strange.

We had at the same time been looking for new premises where we could bring together our own firm, with room for expansion. Grand Buildings in Trafalgar Square seemed ideal.

This edifice originally housed the Grand Hotel (not to be confused with the hotel of the same name that stands nearby today). Every Sunday evening on the ‘wireless’, the BBC broadcast music from the Palm Court at the Grand, with the orchestra led by Albert Sandler on violin.

I can’t recall when the hotel closed down but one anecdote lingers. Our main entrance was on the Strand and there was a porno cinema not far away that strangely disappeared shortly before the wedding of Charles and Diana in 1981. It was, of course, on the main route to St Paul’s Cathedral and I always suspected the authorities were worried that the TV cameras would pick up the banner display. Just before its closure the cinema was showing a double bill of ‘Danish Dentist on the Job’ and ‘Around the World With Nothing On!’.

But I digress. Before we moved in, the premises had fallen on hard times. The bedrooms off long corridors had been converted over the years into multiple occupancy offices. I would not have been surprised to find Flybynight Sales Ltd lurking in some shadowy corner.

The fifth floor was vacant and one half of it was sufficient for our needs. The freeholders, Land Securities, were happy to have us as a substantial tenant. With the merger with S & Co going ahead, our search for premises for the combined firm was over. We would take the whole floor. It was perfect.

About a week later, I was having a very difficult morning. I had a call from Nigel C. ‘Michael, you’re going to be the administrative partner in the new firm. I have six filing cabinets in my office now. Where do you suggest I put them?’

I was going to be managing partner, not administrative partner, but with some effort I kept myself in check and did not tell him where to put his filing cabinets.

But I now had time to think and realised how far the pendulum had swung in our negotiations. Originally, we were rescuing an unprofitable firm facing insolvency, but the supplicants had become demanding and controlling. I had one of those sudden moments of truth. I didn’t want to go ahead with the merger.

We had a partners’ meeting that evening. They were shocked to hear my views but eventually were persuaded that it was for the best. About a year later, I met Gerald M at a party. I approached him.

‘Why did you ignore me at that merger party?,’ I asked him.

‘I thought that if you were stupid enough to get into bed with those two losers, I didn’t want to know you. Now we can talk.’

We negotiated a very satisfactory long lease with Land Securities, taking half the floor. There was only one clause I did not like. This allowed the landlords to take possession at any time, without compensation, to redevelop the property. I was assured this was merely a standard clause and redevelopment was out of the question.

I was sad to leave John Carpenter House as we enjoyed happy times there. We had been in occupation for 12 years, so the low rent had not much longer to run and we would be facing a vast increase.

Hilary H’s architectural practice was enjoying one of its periodic booms and he desperately wanted our space. I was able to negotiate a decent exit deal.

Our regular moves westward seemed rather strange to me. I had started with Anthony Sumption in EC3, moved after six years to EC4 and was now leaving the City for WC2. Where next?

One disadvantage of my new office was the shattering sound of the sirens of emergency vehicles as they sped round Trafalgar Square. Any phone conversation had to be interrupted until the noise subsided.

Apart from that, everyone including the clients seemed happy. At that stage, this part of central London was not the shoppers’ paradise it later became, so staff were able to enjoy productive lunch times.

I found it very enjoyable, in my free moments, to wander across the square to the National Gallery or St James’s Park. I did not miss the claustrophobia of the City.

One advantage of the broad corridors of Grand Buildings was that I could play cricket with my two small sons, using a ruler and a tennis ball. A little leisure was required to balance what was a punishing work schedule.

As I said, I found running the law firm a lonely business. If a lawyer gets it wrong, he’s liable to be sued by the client. As a manager, I was regularly getting it wrong. I found that the secret was to monitor my decisions closely and, if not turning out well, change direction.

I reckoned that getting 51% of decisions right represented a good year. But getting this across to my partners was not easy.

‘You want to do this now? Are you certain it will work? The last time we did something like it, it didn’t.’

Being put on the spot like that was difficult. I could not confirm I was certain. They say that managing a law firm is like trying to herd cats. After a heavy week of decision-making, if we went out to a Chinese restaurant, somebody else had to order for me. It was one decision too many.

While I still had a full workload as a partner, and was one of the principal fee-earners and client introducers, I was becoming increasingly absorbed in the theory as well as the practice of law firm leadership and management. I could find little by way of precedent to help me, so I started lecturing and writing on the subject, if only to clarify my own thoughts. This resulted in a series of articles in this very magazine.

I was encouraged to turn these into a book, Anatomy of Professional Practice (1987), also published by the Gazette.

Looking at the book now, it seems very rudimentary; the science has moved on so much. Still, as a result of the articles and book, I found myself called in as a consultant to advise other law firms. The blind leading the blind!

It began to change for the better when I attended a conference of the International Bar Association in Montreux, Switzerland. I discovered that the IBA had a fully fledged Practice Management & Technology Committee, and became determined to get involved.

The Americans were streets ahead and adept at translating the precepts of Harvard Business School into the specific requirements of lawyers and law firms. I felt that I had at last come home. I could share my problems not only with other managing partners worldwide, but also consultants with a huge amount of experience. I became a committee officer and ultimately chairman for four happy and productive years.

It did not end there. The Economics of Law Committee, as it was then called, of the American Bar Association invited the corresponding committee of the IBA to send a delegate to one of its meetings. I jumped at the chance and found myself immersed in a new world, making many new friends. I became an associate member of the ABA, attending their meetings regularly. One of my proudest moments was acting as co-chair of an ABA President’s Showcase Programme on Multi-disciplinary Partnerships in Toronto – before an enormous audience.

Michael Simmons’ career reminiscences can be read in full here.