By the time this is published, the July bar exam will be history. Remember my admonition to not discuss your answers with anyone, including your besties. It’s too late to do anything now, not that you could, so just don’t. Take a break from perseverating.
But is it now time to fret about AI taking our jobs? Maybe not all of them, at least not yet, but there already is a substantial impact in the legal profession, especially for newbies. Newbies learn the ropes of how to do just about everything in ways that are galaxies apart from how we dinosaur lawyers learned. A lot of the skills that the new lawyers need didn’t cross the minds of those training us decades ago, except perhaps in science fiction.
In dinosaur times, we were pointed to the library, where we had to figure out what books to use, what cases to read, and WTF was Shepard’s Citations? And why were the resources we needed never on the shelves (of course, no sign-out card)? And this was in the days before Google, internet, or emails, so we (or a legal assistant) had to wander around plaintively inquiring for the book(s) and even perhaps rooting around on an attorney’s desk to find them. (No right of privacy there.)
Dinosaur lawyers had a different definition of “hallucinations.” It was “turn on, tune in, drop out.” (Thank you, Timothy Leary.) Nowadays, AI uses a different definition, one that can be incorrect gibberish despite appearing to have some sense. Hallucinations do not discriminate
on the basis of either age or years in practice.
Do not ignore the huge benchslap meted out to lawyers in an AI hallucinations case (not the only one). Three attorneys earned public reprimands, referrals to the state bar, and disqualifications from the particular case. In a refreshing change, a U.S. district court in Alabama released from any sanctions the associates and the law firm too. Usually, shit rolls downhill, but it didn’t here.
AI hallucination scenarios are not limited to lawyers.
Are AI errors and omissions covered by malpractice insurance? Is there language of inclusion or exclusion in coverages? Why are attorneys and judges not doing what they are supposed to be doing and which is their professional responsibility to do? Is laziness now extant in our world? And if you’re not sure about the nature and extent of your professional responsibility vis-a-vis AI, read the ABA Formal Opinion 512, published last summer. It’s a comprehensive analysis of our professional responsibilities, including but not limited, to tbe duty of competence (and that includes technological competence), confidentiality, client communications and vendor supervision.
Hopefully, AI will never replace the most important parts of lawyering: professional judgment, discretion, the proper care and feeding of a client, the knowledge that only time and experience provide. How can AI ever do that? Would a client ever want that instead of a human connection? AI can draft all the documents, write briefs (as long as no hallucinations creep in, and we seem to be assuming facts not in evidence these days) and other ministerial tasks, but the very human connection is something lacking in AI, at least right now. As E.M. Forster said in the epigraph to his novel, “Howard’s End,” “only connect.”
How would AI show the necessary interpersonal skills? Whatever kind of lawyer we are in terms of practice areas, one essential skill that we have all learned, often the hard way, is that we shouldn’t let professional disagreements, which by nature is what litigation is all about, erode whatever collegiality we can muster. How will AI handle discovery disputes? Will two robots meet and confer? Will there eventually be a time when robots make court appearances? What about replacing judicial officers?
For a few sleepless nights, read Mary Meeker’s report, “Trends in Artificial Intelligence.” Meeker, who was a highly regarded tech analyst and venture capitalist on Wall Street for many years, does not mince words: AI is here to stay and will leave us in the dust if we don’t understand it and use it. She has predictions for five years and 10 years out.
What will we be doing in five years? Ten years? What will be the evolving standard for good lawyering? Will that be measured against an artificial intelligence standard or a human one? How will AI handle the important task of business development? Can you envision AI at
networking events? Wouldn’t we all like to know?
Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at oldladylawyer@gmail.com.
The post Gimme An ‘A’! Gimme An ‘I’! What Does That Spell? appeared first on Above the Law.
By the time this is published, the July bar exam will be history. Remember my admonition to not discuss your answers with anyone, including your besties. It’s too late to do anything now, not that you could, so just don’t. Take a break from perseverating.
But is it now time to fret about AI taking our jobs? Maybe not all of them, at least not yet, but there already is a substantial impact in the legal profession, especially for newbies. Newbies learn the ropes of how to do just about everything in ways that are galaxies apart from how we dinosaur lawyers learned. A lot of the skills that the new lawyers need didn’t cross the minds of those training us decades ago, except perhaps in science fiction.
In dinosaur times, we were pointed to the library, where we had to figure out what books to use, what cases to read, and WTF was Shepard’s Citations? And why were the resources we needed never on the shelves (of course, no sign-out card)? And this was in the days before Google, internet, or emails, so we (or a legal assistant) had to wander around plaintively inquiring for the book(s) and even perhaps rooting around on an attorney’s desk to find them. (No right of privacy there.)
Dinosaur lawyers had a different definition of “hallucinations.” It was “turn on, tune in, drop out.” (Thank you, Timothy Leary.) Nowadays, AI uses a different definition, one that can be incorrect gibberish despite appearing to have some sense. Hallucinations do not discriminate
on the basis of either age or years in practice.
Do not ignore the huge benchslap meted out to lawyers in an AI hallucinations case (not the only one). Three attorneys earned public reprimands, referrals to the state bar, and disqualifications from the particular case. In a refreshing change, a U.S. district court in Alabama released from any sanctions the associates and the law firm too. Usually, shit rolls downhill, but it didn’t here.
AI hallucination scenarios are not limited to lawyers.
Are AI errors and omissions covered by malpractice insurance? Is there language of inclusion or exclusion in coverages? Why are attorneys and judges not doing what they are supposed to be doing and which is their professional responsibility to do? Is laziness now extant in our world? And if you’re not sure about the nature and extent of your professional responsibility vis-a-vis AI, read the ABA Formal Opinion 512, published last summer. It’s a comprehensive analysis of our professional responsibilities, including but not limited, to tbe duty of competence (and that includes technological competence), confidentiality, client communications and vendor supervision.
Hopefully, AI will never replace the most important parts of lawyering: professional judgment, discretion, the proper care and feeding of a client, the knowledge that only time and experience provide. How can AI ever do that? Would a client ever want that instead of a human connection? AI can draft all the documents, write briefs (as long as no hallucinations creep in, and we seem to be assuming facts not in evidence these days) and other ministerial tasks, but the very human connection is something lacking in AI, at least right now. As E.M. Forster said in the epigraph to his novel, “Howard’s End,” “only connect.”
How would AI show the necessary interpersonal skills? Whatever kind of lawyer we are in terms of practice areas, one essential skill that we have all learned, often the hard way, is that we shouldn’t let professional disagreements, which by nature is what litigation is all about, erode whatever collegiality we can muster. How will AI handle discovery disputes? Will two robots meet and confer? Will there eventually be a time when robots make court appearances? What about replacing judicial officers?
For a few sleepless nights, read Mary Meeker’s report, “Trends in Artificial Intelligence.” Meeker, who was a highly regarded tech analyst and venture capitalist on Wall Street for many years, does not mince words: AI is here to stay and will leave us in the dust if we don’t understand it and use it. She has predictions for five years and 10 years out.
What will we be doing in five years? Ten years? What will be the evolving standard for good lawyering? Will that be measured against an artificial intelligence standard or a human one? How will AI handle the important task of business development? Can you envision AI at
networking events? Wouldn’t we all like to know?
Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at oldladylawyer@gmail.com.
The post Gimme An ‘A’! Gimme An ‘I’! What Does That Spell? appeared first on Above the Law.
