Of legal aid and lemonade

Legal aid and hard facts

As we wait for the Government’s response to the consultation on its proposals for legal aid, it might be worth reminding ourselves of some salient facts:

(1)  This country cannot afford publicly funded legal advice and representation for all citizens on all legal issues that will face them in their lifetimes: difficult choices therefore have to be made about what falls within the scope of legal aid and what does not.

(2)  The ‘right’ choices about scope need to be made, otherwise there will be vulnerable people without legal advice and representation in circumstances where the common consensus in any decent society would be that it should be available.  The wrong choices could also result in the total bill to society increasing, if the absence of legal advice and representation leads to greater costs to healthcare, housing, unemployment, family breakdown or welfare benefits.  These are policy decisions.

(3)  The Government and other public authorities could bring down the demand for legal aid (even in circumstances where everyone thinks it should be available) by taking steps to ensure that front-line staff perform their duties competently and make the right decisions first time so that claims and appeals against actions and decisions by public servants are reduced.  The public purse might still end up paying, but it’s important that the costs of quality, incentives for good performance, and ‘polluter payment’ for poor performance, are allocated to the proper budgets.

(4)  The legal aid bill will be reduced by around £350 million: except to the extent that any of this reduction is achieved by the reduction of the Legal Services Commission’s administrative costs, of course the turnover of legal aid providers in the aggregate will go down.  It is not the job of the Government, the LSC, regulators or taxpayers to keep law firms in business (or profitable).

The market for lemons

If consumers find it difficult to assess the quality of the service being provided to them, they will only be prepared to pay an average price for the uncertain (and therefore presumed average) service.  Over time, this will cause providers of a high-quality service to leave the market because they will be unable to achieve a fair price for what they offer.  This will, in turn, lead to a further reduction in the average quality of service available.  A 2001 report for the OFT noted that, in this situation, if a firm providing a high-quality service cuts its prices to compete with cheaper rivals, and consumers interpret this as evidence that the firm is now providing lower quality, the firm may even hasten its own demise.

Consumers might, therefore, consciously choose not to instruct high-quality providers because they find it difficult to assess the true quality of what they are being asked to pay for.  Rather than risk being ‘ripped off’, they decide not to pay a higher price (for what might well be better quality) and instead opt for cheaper providers.  This creates a downward spiral of consumers paying cheaper prices to lower-price competitors who stay in the market as higher-quality and higher-priced businesses leave it.  The result of this ‘adverse selection’ leads to a market that has generally reducing quality and price – Akerlof’s (1970) so-called ‘market for lemons’.

A number of reasons have been put forward to support the argument that adverse selection would have little effect in the market for legal services.  Most obviously, all lawyers must meet minimum educational standards, which automatically deselect those without that education from the consumer’s range of choices.  The availability of a forum for complaints from consumers (the Legal Ombudsman) should also have a disciplinary effect on the profession and encourage non-hazardous behaviour, as will the possible use of conditional and damages-based fee arrangements – particularly where the risk is not all borne by the opposing party.

The high level of importance placed on a good reputation for lawyers is also thought to act as a strong tool in reducing adverse selection problems.  In addition, the nature of the legal services market itself solves some of its information asymmetry, in that at least in contentious matters quality issues do not solely concern the practitioner representing a given client, but are comparative to those representing the opposing party and are potentially subject to judicial comment.

However, all of these reasons can be said to apply already within the legal aid market, and therefore can no longer act to curtail the development of the market for lemons.  Indeed, in the context of legal aid, the ‘lemons’ issue could be compounded.  It is not so much that the client might engage in adverse selection, but that a monopsony buyer (the LSC) chooses not to pay for high-quality providers.  It does this not because it finds quality difficult to assess, but because it can – and, by some views, must – drive down the cost of legal aid.  There is a public interest tension at the heart of this choice.  If we accept (as I believe we must) that the total legal aid bill must be reduced, there will be an inevitable trade-off between the scope of legal aid and the risk to quality.

Even if scope is cut back, the broader the scope of advice and representation remaining available, the higher the demand will be (relative to even narrower scope).  To the extent that any removal from scope or of eligibility does not achieve the desired reduction in the aggregate cost of legal aid, cuts in the cost of provision within scope will have to be imposed.  It would be idle to pretend that this would not reduce providers’ income.  (Whether it also reduces providers’ profit will depend on the responses of providers to consolidation, restructuring. and the use of technology and processes to deliver economies of scale that could maintain prior levels of profit.  For the LSC to use fee levels to drive such changes in behaviour is not unreasonable, and I remain to be convinced that quality and access to justice would inevitably be compromised by such changes – though there is clearly a risk that they might.)

So, the risk for Government is that scope and fee reductions will drive high-quality providers away from the provision of legally aided advice and representation.  This creates a serious possibility that legal aid will become a market for lemons with generally reducing price and quality, and fewer high-quality providers choosing to remain in it.

If life hands you lemons …

Some years ago, a friend of my wife gave her a kitchen plaque which said: ‘If life hands you lemons … make lemonade’.  I take this to be an exhortation to seek something palatable out of inherently bitter or unwelcome ingredients.

If legal aid is (or becomes even more of) a market for lemons, the challenge is to find the equivalent of lemonade.  It might not be your preferred drink; there might even be different varieties (traditional, cloudy, and so on); and there will also be different perceptions of the quality of various brands.  There is not necessarily a single, homogenous result; but there is the prospect of something passable.

What might the legal aid equivalent of lemonade be?  At the heart of the dilemma, it seems to me, is a questionable assumption that quality and cost are inseparably linked – or, to put it another way, that any reduction in price must lead to a reduction in quality.  Other industries have had to grapple with this apparent conundrum.  Quality is not a singular concept but a variable one (see my views on this in Quality, values and standards: the future legal landscape).  So the inevitability of the link is not apparent to me.

The solutions must suggest gaining scale that can produce economies of scale through consolidation and acquisition (or possibly cooperation through joint ventures and the like), and to innovate delivery through new processes and technologies.  The restructuring of firms to reinvent the delivery and staffing of legal aid provision must follow, as night follows day.

What is absolutely clear is that simply expecting to carry out legal aid work in the same way as before – with the same people, structures, and costs – cannot survive a new approach in which the aggregate income available to legal aid providers is less than before.  Something has to give.  Income will reduce in the aggregate: but any given firm’s income will not go down if it can increase market share (hence the need for scale and consolidation).  If the income for each unit of provision (act of advice or assistance) goes down, profit does not inevitably reduce if the firm’s cost base is restructured (hence the need for innovation in delivery, process and staffing).

The flavour of this legal aid lemonade is not difficult to guess.  It’s not really a question of whether one likes it; it’s also no longer a question about whether or not it’s ‘right’.  It is going to happen.  (I have written above and elsewhere about the Government’s obligation to address the systemic issues of matching rights and funding, and the need to remove hurdles from the courts and from public authorities’ decision-making processes: see Civil legal aid: squaring the (vicious) circle.)

I sympathise with legal aid providers.  Life is tough, and it’s about to become even tougher.  I regret that my sympathy will do nothing to generate income or profits for legal aid lawyers.  But against this backdrop, it would be better to start making lemonade than staring at a pile of lemons wondering what to do with them.


Reserved legal activities – where next?

The current reserved activities are rights of audience, the conduct of litigation, reserved instrument activities (sometimes inaccurately referred to as the conveyancing reservation), probate activities, notarial activities, and the administration of oaths.  The Legal Services Act 2007 gives the Legal Services Board the power to recommend changes to this list.  The Legal Services Institute (LSI) expressed the view in early 2010 that, before the Board considers exercising its powers, it should establish criteria for reservation that it could apply to both current and prospective activities.  Our first paper therefore investigated the origins of the reserved activities to see if, from their history, any criteria could be suggested.  Unfortunately, we found no coherent policy or rationale underpinning them.  We therefore went on to consider in our second paper (available here) what might provide a contemporary rationale for reservation.

 

The case for reservation

For the future, we consider reservation to be appropriate where:

(1) regulation, and reservation in particular, is in the public interest; and

(2) either other regulatory responses are less effective;

(3) or reservation affords a degree of additional protection to clients.

We suggest that reservation can be justified in principle on the basis of the public interest if it either secures a public good or offers consumer protection.  We therefore suggest that
reservation is justified in the public and consumer interest where, as a result of legal advice or representation, detriment to the consumer’s (a) liberty, (b) physical, mental, emotional or social well-being, or (c) property, could arise, and for which compensation after the event would not represent an adequate or reasonable remedy.  However, we do not think that this supports the reservation of all ‘solicitor services’.

 

Public good reservations

The LSI considers that the requirements of the rule of law, the administration of justice and access to justice, as well as the benefits to England and Wales of having a well functioning legal system, justify the continuing reservation of rights of audience, the conduct of litigation, and court-related reserved instrument activities.  Equally important
are the proper execution of the administration of oaths and notarial activities, for the effective administration of justice, and to support reliable social and trading relationships both domestically and internationally.

There is also a public good in having an effective and reliable property market.  In part, this arises from the support of conveyancing chains and simultaneous completions, which in turn are based on the credibility and enforceability of undertakings given by the authorised persons involved.  Rather than the current narrow reservation of preparing the contract and the instruments of transfer or charge (which does not address the public benefit that needs securing), we believe that there is a strong case for the extension of reserved instrument activities to include all conveyancing services.

We would also consider that immigration advice and services might now be added to the public good group of reservations – moving them into the mainstream of reserved legal activities from being regulated (but not reserved) under a parallel but largely identical regulatory framework.  This was in fact suggested in the White Paper that preceded the Legal Services Act, but was not followed through at the time.

 

Consumer protection reservations

Problems with a will are only likely to come to light after the death of the testator, and after-the-event remedies are not sufficient.  The LSI therefore believes that there is a strong consumer protection case to be made for the reservation of will writing.

The probate reservation is in our view the most contentious of the Act’s current list, and its narrow scope difficult to justify on public good or consumer protection grounds.   We therefore advocate its removal from the list of reserved legal activities, with a strong case then for a broader reservation of the administration of an estate following a grant of probate or letters of administration to protect against misappropriation or misadministration.

Finally, although insolvency practice and claims management services are both currently regulated, we could not see a sufficient justification for bringing them within the framework of reserved legal activities.

Major disruptive forces faced by law firms

Here are some thoughts about the ‘forces of discontinuity’ and their effects on the planning of major law firms that I shared with an audience at a Law Society breakfast meeting in September 2010.

Discontinuity is necessarily about change.  I doubt we’d struggle to agree on a core list of fundamental change affecting the legal world.  But we might struggle to agree a definitive list – because change affects the market in different ways, and therefore affects individual firms in different ways.

The challenge, however, is not simply to identify change, or even fundamental change.  It’s to identify the point at which incremental change becomes a discontinuity – that is, the point at which the change becomes so profound that it rewrites the rules.

We will probably all have our own pet theories about this.  For example, some might suggest that the financial crisis and globalisation have led to a discontinuous reconfiguration of capital and client relationships.  Others might say that the combination of globalisation and technology has created the business process and legal process outsourcing phenomenon, resulting in the discontinuous shifting of work out of law firms and the consequent need to reengineer client and case management as well as to find new training opportunities and engagements for junior lawyers.

For some, it will be the discontinuous redistribution of legal aid contracts.  Still others might point the finger at the emergence of ‘outcomes focused regulation’ and the discontinuous uncertainty of compliance.  And then we might look just around the corner to the advent of ABSs, and the discontinuous possibilities of new entrants, new owners and new financing.

So there are many things – and many more I haven’t mentioned – that we can say have created or will potentially create a discontinuity in the world of legal practice.

It’s perhaps worth observing that not all of the consequences of discontinuities are negative: much depends on your standpoint.  For example, the City’s ‘Big Bang’ in the late 1980s brought unwelcome change for some and welcome opportunity for others.  Higher rights of audience for solicitors represented a discontinuity (not welcomed by the Bar); the combination of litigation and advocacy in one firm could be another (with potentially both positive and negative effects for law firms and barristers’ chambers).

But for me, the real challenge arises not from the change or the catalyst, but from the reaction to it.  Any discontinuity or disruption calls for decision and action.  Discontinuous change is not part of a pattern; the past does not remain a reliable guide to the future.

Just over 20 years ago, Charles Handy wrote a book called The Age of Unreason.  In it, he talked extensively about discontinuities, and referred to many – including, for instance: wars; the advent of the chimney and its effects on the cohesion of family or tribal life as people no longer sat around a fire together; and how the later emergence of central heating made the building of multi-storey apartments possible.  We could now add, say, mobile telephony and computing, Tesco, and the ban on smoking in public places.

But he also tells this story (which I’m sure many of you will have heard before) about the nature of reaction to change:

“a frog if put in cold water will not bestir itself if that water is heated up slowly and gradually and will in the end let itself be boiled alive, too comfortable with continuity to realize that continuous change at some point becomes discontinuous and demands a change in behaviour”.

Somewhat gruesome in its imagery, perhaps, but it makes a strong point.  Interestingly, if you drop a frog into boiling water, apparently it will jump straight out.

Now, if you think about it, in both cases, the water is eventually at the same temperature, whether the frog is in from the start or is dropped in later when it’s boiling.  In other words, the environment is the same; it’s the reaction that’s different – jump or stay put.

To put it another way: it’s quite possible not to notice discontinuities or appreciate their effects until it’s too late.  More than this: it might be that by seeking to preserve the status quo and continuity in the face of further change, the discontinuity – when it comes – leads to a far greater rupture with the past than would otherwise have been the case.

We tend to look for discontinuities on the outside of ourselves or our organisation; but the reactions are internal – either personally or collectively.  So rather than going on a ‘discontinuity-spotting’ exercise, what I want to concentrate on here are the four questions that I think law firms should ask themselves – regularly – as part of the strategic and planning reviews, that might help them spot potential discontinuities and react before they become disruptive.

The first question would be: ‘How can we create value for our clients?’.  I’m not talking about added value like newsletters, seminars and free visits.  But successful firms understand the value that goes to the essence of the client’s transaction or dispute or conception of success – which might be the killer legal point, but could equally be something of practical importance (such as enhancing the working relationship between the parties for the future).  Lawyers often claim that they understand what success and value look and feel like to the client; but talking to clients suggests otherwise.  No business can survive without creating value for its customers.  It’s not surprising that the retail legal market is due for a discontinuous shake-up: too many lawyers have lost touch – or indeed were never in touch – with what clients (or those who fund them) are really looking for.

The second question is: ‘What is the nature of our competitive advantage?’.  Most law firm strategy appears to be conceived in a vacuum that takes too little account of the size and nature of the various marketplaces in which the firm operates – and virtually no account of the position or responses of competitors.

Despite years of increasing competition, ours remains a fragmented and relatively undifferentiated industry.  Firms are often hard-pressed to explain why clients should choose them rather than another: witness the eternal same-ness of law firm strategies, websites and marketing materials.  If firms cannot articulate in what sense they are different and justify why clients should use them, they shouldn’t be surprised if clients make their own minds up and go elsewhere.

The third question is: ‘Are we truly managing for efficiency and profit?’.  There might be mixed views on this, but mine is that very few firms do.  Legal Business published its 2010 figures for the largest 100 firms.  For the first time since these records began, both total fee income and total overheads fell.  Fortunately, overheads fell faster than fee income, so aggregate profits rose, slightly.  So the reason for increased profit was principally down to stripping out cost.

There’s arguably not much wrong with that approach in the present climate.  But let’s dig a little deeper on two other numbers – revenue per partner and revenue per lawyer.  Again, both fell.  In other words, both partners and fee-earners were less productive in generating and doing work in 2010 than they were in 2009.  Indeed, both 2009 and 2010 were lower than 2008.  So we’ve had two consecutive years of lower productivity.  Actually, it’s even worse than that: in real terms, revenue per lawyer has barely kept pace with inflation for the past five years – that is, including the ‘super-growth’ years of 2006-2008.

Let me put it another way: these numbers suggest that firms have carried too much human capacity.  If firms were truly managing for profit, they could have stripped out additional partners and fee-earners to restore their productivity to at least 2006 levels, removing even more overhead and improving profitability further.  Carrying relatively unproductive capacity through all phases of the economic cycle cannot be a route to sustained profitability: it’s probably not a route to motivated staff who care about creating client value and competitive advantage, either.

But where’s the motivation to change?  This particular cauldron of boiling water still produces £4 billion of profit for 6,700 individuals to share (an average of £600,000 a head): it’s easy to speculate how these individuals might, in Charles Handy’s words, be “too comfortable with continuity”!

So the cost base of major law firms has probably reached a point of discontinuity.  Stripping out cost, based on the traditional ways of working, has gone about as far as it can.  A further re-think is required about the balance of lawyer and non-lawyer capacity; of human and technological capacity; of internal and external resourcing (as BPO and LPO extend their influence); and of financing through debt or equity, and with either being provided internally or externally.

My fourth question then is: ‘How do we connect strategy to personal action?’.  Successful firms realise that strategy implementation is not about voting for the strategy, but about individuals doing things.  They articulate and agree with individual partners what their contribution should be to that implementation.  They link personal planning, performance and personal rewards in some way to the achievement of the firm’s strategy.

There are other important questions, but as I celebrate my Silver Jubilee of consulting to the legal profession, these are the four recurrent questions that for me single out the purposeful and successful firms from the rest.  They require environmental scanning, and conversations with clients, to give advance notice of impending disruption; they encourage reviews of activities and resourcing to maintain their currency and value; and they connect individual action to intended strategic outcomes and rewards.

The temperature of the water continues to rise.  But there remains a choice: jump or die – survival is optional!

(This is also available as a pdf from the LSI website)