First, Kiss All the Lawyers

By Andrea Sachs

Why does California have the most lawyers and New Jersey the most toxic- waste dumps?

A. Because New Jersey had first choice.

Gags like this get Michael Scanlon Jr. fighting mad. The American Bar Association's new $170,000-a-year image consultant has heard just about every snide lawyer joke making the rounds -- and he is not amused. "Some cross the line from humor into bashing," he says. "And when something does cross the line, we have a right to speak out." Indeed, the A.B.A. has started a campaign to improve the popular image, so to speak, of lawyers. It's not going to be easy -- in the world's most litigious society, lawyer bashing has become a beloved pastime.

Among his battles, Scanlon has locked horns with Tonight show host Jay Leno, who considers lawyers prime fodder for his monologues. Scanlon claims Leno has "apologized" after the image consultant called to complain. But Leno won't admit to taking back any flak. When asked about the lawyer-boosting campaign, Leno chortled, "I can't say anything until I speak to my attorney! I mean, come on. We're not advocating violence or the overthrow of the judicial system, we're just telling silly jokes."

The vitriol, however, is sure to be a topic of anxious discussion when thousands of America's lawyers convene this week in New York City for the A.B.A.'s annual meeting. And they're not being oversensitive, either. A poll published by the National Law Journal last week concluded that "resentment of lawyers -- ranging from lawyer-bashing jokes to outright vilification -- is running at a fever pitch." Seventy-three percent of the 815 Americans polled believe that there are too many lawyers. Only 5% said they would recommend law as a profession to their children. Concedes incoming A.B.A. president R. William Ide III: "We're sort of getting kicked in the shins."

At the very least. While lawyers have always been targets because of their power and prosperity, this summer has brought a bumper crop of negative images. Audiences at Jurassic Park are roaring with approval as a Tyrannosaurus rex makes a meal of a lawyer sitting on a privy. Tom Cruise takes his life in his hands when he joins The Firm, where the partners cook the books for the Mafia. A TV advertisement sings the praises of planet Reebok, where there are no lawyers.

Real-life attorneys grew more outspoken about the demonizing of lawyers after eight people at a San Francisco law firm were shot by an angry client last month. Harvey Saferstein, president of the California Bar Association, pressed for a "cease-fire" on lawyer bashing, characterizing it as a form of "hate speech." At least one advertiser felt the heat and backed down. Miller Lite decided to yank an ad showing cowboys roping divorce lawyers at a rodeo. But the enmity runs deep in the culture: after Saferstein spoke out publicly against such bashing, he received a slew of derisive calls at his office, leading his partners to beef up security.

Most people vent their annoyance simply by making lawyers the laughingstock of the white-collar class. Long after jokes about minorities have become socially unacceptable, mockery of lawyers remains a safe prejudice. Sample: What do lawyers and sperm have in common? Both have a one-in-a-million chance of turning out human. Another: Why did the post office recall its lawyer stamp? Answer: Because people didn't know which side to spit on.

There is a therapeutic reason for all this, experts say. "People both need lawyers and resent them," explains psychologist Harvey Mindess, a professor at Antioch University in Los Angeles. "A feeling of helplessness toward someone you're dependent on is very uncomfortable. In that anxiety-arousing situation, humor is a way of getting even." While such jokes invite cynicism, says Mindess, it is unlikely that they encourage violence.

Nonetheless, such barbs tend to undermine the morale and pride of the legal profession. Benjamin Sells is a lawyer turned psychotherapist whose patients in Chicago are attorneys. He says some lawyers won't admit in social settings what they do for a living. "The most prominent symptom I see in lawyers is loneliness," says Sells. "They already feel alienated from the very people they are dedicated to serve. If lawyers are struggling to become reconnected to the community and they hear this kind of venom, it's going to drive them more deeply into themselves."

The A.B.A. is also trying to shine up the image of attorneys by encouraging them to do more pro bono work for needy clients. Lawyers are already doing more than the public realizes, says Scanlon. "Our profession gives more donated services than any other profession."

Barristers might take some comfort from the fact that Hollywood studios are tripping over themselves to film the best-selling novels of John Grisham and Scott Turow, both lawyers. This summer Universal Studios paid $3.75 million for Grisham's next book, which hasn't even been written yet. But this may be only a little comfort. Perhaps inspired by The Firm, a new movie is in the works once again featuring a young attorney in a large firm who discovers he is working for . . . Satan. The film's title is Devil's Advocate.

With reporting by Patrick E. Cole/Los Angeles and Julie Johnson/Washington