The Curious Cycle of Non-Lawyers at 17[i]
Swethaa Ballakrishnen[ii]
Two years ago, mostly because I was curious if my peers thought the same way about our shared legal education, I interviewed forty odd alumni from the national law schools. My initial impetus was to make the case that these schools provided an elite education that was more or less non-quantifiable. While they granted open pathways to six figure (dollar) salaries and prestigious admission offers, I offered that the value was more in the systemic advantage of credentialism and network creation rather than in the actual education.
Primarily, the hunch was a Weberian extension of status group and control to my own circle of college friends who were now in positions of relative power in their respective careers. As part of an exclusive elite, it seemed like they determined ways (mostly by taking it for granted) to gain advantages from the systems (top recruitment offers, easily transferable job prospects) in forms that later monopolized the benefits within the same group (for e.g. when they were in positions of power, they recruited from their own/similar schools). It was clear that by drawing from the wealth of what was once friendly college ties, these graduates relied on the social capital of their networks to further enhance the value of their elite education within the same peer group[iii]. As an NALSAR’04 graduate remarked of the resourcefulness of her connections –
“We just know (emphasis intended) each other. There is an enforced bonding that happens over five years of being isolated from the rest of the world and when we graduate, this bonding and networking carries to the next stage of law firms, Corporates, judicial clerkships, graduate schools etc. and consequently makes it easier for members of this close-knit community to break in than for outsiders.”[iv]
The value in the education, then, was not in the training, but instead, the perceived[v] difference. And successful entry into the institutional framework guaranteed benefits of credential that were measured in ways independent of quantifiable merit. And putting aside my reservations of inequality (that I will subsequently dwell on), this credentialing on the system of networks, unlike I initially envisaged, was not entirely a disadvantage.
By creating a sense of branding, these networks (and therefore, these schools), were beginning to offer their students an array of opportunity that was otherwise unnatural for an Indian law graduate. Part of this had to do with the fact that the newly global marketplace demanded more imaginative lawyering roles, but nevertheless, in some part at least, it was the validity provided by these close social ties that allowed students from these schools the option of not being traditional litigating lawyers alone. With their differentiating status, the scope of what a law student could do on graduation expanded: irrespective of whether (s)he actually did it[vi]. As one graduate commented about his choice of attending law school:
“…. I figured that even if I hated and/or was really bad at the law, I would in no way be constrained in terms of my options at the end of the course and could easily branch out into something altogether different. A very important reason was the fact that law school always left open the option to not be a lawyer (emphasis supplied)[vii]”
Thus, these schools, which initially started with an ambition to create socially relevant lawyers, had metamorphosed to an even nobler position: they had became centers of accreditation that allowed their students the luxury of chasing multiple career and educational trajectories, only one of which was to be a lawyer. And despite the popular criticism that these schools “have not served the legal system”, in my mind, without doubt, it is this luxury of transformation that remains the system’s finest achievement.
Yet, my issue with this credentialism resonates critically for other reasons of equality. This social capital and ensuing professional freedom the system provides for its products is indeed powerful, but as demanding of attention is the fact that the sorting that determines these winner-take-all beneficiaries takes place at, approximately, age seventeen!
As high school students unclear about career trajectories, these elite domestic graduates are sorted by a sponsored mobility system that favors the urban elite student with the socio-cultural (educated families knowing the advantage of a school with top opportunities, command over written and spoken English to do well in the classroom, etc) and to some extent, economic (to be able to afford and access preparatory classes to gain admission to these schools and after, to attend them) background to enter and excel in these schools. Using one example (NLSIU’05, Oxford’06):
My father told me to give the Law School entrance exam as a ‘back-up’ – in case I didn’t do too well in the Class XII Board exams. It seemed like a good idea at the time – you see, he is a wise man. I think I got my Entrance results before my Board results. I was a little surprised when I learned that I’d got in – not because I thought that I wasn’t smart enough or didn’t write a good paper or that I wasn’t serious about getting into law school – its just that I didn’t think too much about Law School after I wrote the exam. While the Board exams results were not bad, they were not great either. So I went to law school.
Thus, while it might well be the case that these national law schools have more rigorous curriculum than the other models of legal education in the country, it is unclear that this is the reason they are considered elite. By selecting high school students through a competitive examination that has a low acceptance rate, these schools pre-select an efficient cohort of highly motivated (if not also smart) students who will push themselves towards creating new opportunity not so much because of the schools, but sometimes despite the structural limitations of the systems.
This is clearly, only the first cut of an obviously larger project. Further research to locate the exact nature and impact of this sorting will be useful in deciphering the arguable unequal stratification. This could entail an enquiry with a larger sample set (my observations reflect interviews with about 45 alumni and survey data from about 80 current students at these law schools). Further, accounting for particular, perceived advantages in both this training (initial income disparity, immediate earning requirements, capacity to deal with law school debt, external credentials, access to more elite networks) and access to it (parental SEI, differential spatial distribution among successful applicants, class perception, resultant language skills), will not be out of order to push the suggested hypothesis.
But an even more effective study of the educational choices and its impacts within the system, requires a keener understanding of the profession in itself. While an attempt has been made here to suggest a possible disconnect between the actual technical and cultural / social advantages that these schools provide, a deeper dive will necessarily involve a larger study of the profession, with a focus on the creation, control and protection of the status groups (some non-national) within it.
[i] A longer version of this paper is forthcoming in the
Journal of Commonwealth Law and Legal Education (Spring 2010). Please forward comments to
Swethaa@stanford.edu.
[ii] B.A., B.L.(Hons) (NALSAR), LL.M (Harvard). Currently, the author is a Sociology Ph.D Candidate at Stanford University where she studies institutional theory, elite network dynamics and stratification, mainly relating to higher education and the professions with a focus on South Asia.
[iii] In limited illustration of this peer group dynamic, of the twelve students from India who were admitted to Harvard Law School’s LL.M program in 2008 (the largest South Asian graduate student cohort at the school), only one (who had attended an undergraduate institution in India) was not a graduate of the national law school. Author data on file. February 2008.
[iv] Interestingly, this alumni joined a top law firm on graduation where almost every (if not all) first year associates who joined that year were from one of the national law schools.
[v] From interviews and observation, it seemed unclear that there was an actual difference in these schools in terms of quantifiable structure. “Did these students learn more law? Perhaps (and mostly because they had stern attendance requirements and constant evaluation). Did they have better faculty? Debatable. Were alumni from these schools better first year associates at top law firms because they were trained in a certain school or, instead, because they were selected into that school a certain way? Unclear”. Author interview on file, January 2010.
[vi] And not only did they think they could do anything – they in fact could explore more options with the safety net of this elite degree. In the course of my interviews, I spoke with alumni from these schools who, on graduation, spent time being non-lawyers. One alumni from NLSIU (’05) had spent a year taking a photography course in the South Indian hill station of Ooty and an alumni from NALSAR (’04) had spent the last three years in the Delhi theatre circuit. Yet both these graduates were applying and had been accepted into prestigious law school programs abroad (Cambridge, Columbia, respectively) and were entirely successful, because of their credential, in making the considering veering back into law when it suited them. Seen as bright intellectuals (and not necessarily, lawyers) they could perceivably do anything with their education and still be regarded as suitable for legal study / practice on their return. Author Interviews on File, February 2008.
[vii] This graduate went on to graduate with a Rhodes scholarship with, potentially, all the unbridled opportunity that he had hoped for on admittance. Author Interview on File, February 2008.