Before You 'Brand': Simplify, Then Amplify

Upon graduating from Boalt Hall (UC Berkeley) in 1974, I did a rather uncommon thing for that time. I came across the Bay, rented an office in Jackson Square, and “hung out my shingle.” It’s been 40 years now since that fateful decision and, for the life of me, I do not understand what I could have been thinking about that would lead me to believe not only that I could survive in the practice, but ever succeed.

Almost all the lessons I learned about building a career, I learned the hard way. But I was extraordinarily fortunate to have found mentors who eased my way. Mind you, these were not only lawyers. Other professionals, business leaders, academics and even spiritual leaders crossed my path and lifted me up, not only as a lawyer, but as a human being. I never have tried to list them all, because they would be too numerous. But I always will be grateful to those who allowed me to stand on their shoulders.

I say all this by way of introduction because I have built what is, for me, an extraordinary law practice and which, to the discerning perspective client, sets me apart from those also identified as being “land-use” and/or “environmental” attorneys. I have established my own unique “brand,” but the “branding” nomenclature sells my offerings too short.

In preparing for this discussion, I pulled a couple books off the shelf that struck me as offering something pertinent. The first, “Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art,” by Scott McCloud, came to mind because I see “branding” as similar to “cartooning.” McCloud considers cartooning to be a form of “amplification through simplification.” He goes on, “When we abstract an image through cartooning, we’re not so much eliminating details as we are focusing on specific details. By stripping down an image to its essential ‘meaning,’ an artist can amplify that meaning in a way that realistic art can’t … Simplifying characters and images toward a purpose can be an effective tool for storytelling in any medium. Cartooning isn’t just a way of drawing, it’s a way of seeing.”

Let me unpack this a little.

First, until you have built a relationship with a certain degree of intimacy, we are all “cartoons” to others in our various life domains. You can be a cartoon parent at your children’s school; a cartoon basketball player at playground pickup game; a cartoon leader in your business; or a cartoon service provider. What is fundamental to understand here is that you are not the “artist.” The artist (your potential client, employer or friend) is the observer of your behavior, your reputation and your “output.” The artist cartoons you from how you present yourself personally or through other media, and how others have interpreted your presentation as made known to the artist. These are, of course, subjective determinations. This means one thing: Whatever you want to be seen as, you must truly be! You must walk your talk. And, while your “walk” may be variable in different contexts, your walk should be consistent and coherent.

A friend once told me a story of how his father showed him how to “adjust” his golf score, because it was “only a game.” The son was devastated, because he knew there were a lot of “games” offered up by life, where unseemly adjustments could be made. Domains cross over one another. I cannot help but think that a lawyer who blasts opposing counsel with anger or belittling a witness is likely to exhibit those same behaviors to a spouse or children. On the flip side, someone known to be hard-working, diligent, creative, generous or trustworthy in one or more domains is likely to find those attributes ceded in another domain. Your community service, your musicianship, your athleticism, your prowess in any other domain is not lost on those cartooning your professional “story.”

Second, you have an opportunity to affect what the artist sees. You do that by coming to know, completely and intimately, your own story. On the one hand, developing and understanding your story takes considerable ongoing time and effort. Your story attempts to capture the meaning of your life and your purpose for being. The good news is that if you are present, curious and attentive in your life, your story, at the outset, may be as simple as “I know that I’m on a purposeful path. Every step I take and every decision I make is intended to bring me closer to that purpose. My relationships, my career, my community engagement, all guide me toward that outcome.” Your story will offer you values and guideposts for future learning and experience that will deepen your storyline, making you more coherent, and, interesting.

At Princeton, I trained to become a foreign service officer. But at my 1971 graduation, the Nixon administration and its prosecution of the Vietnam War made a career in the State Department particularly unattractive. Although my family had always “seen” me as a lawyer ( I was addicted to “Perry Mason” and never missed “The Defenders”), Boalt Hall was a default, almost a capitulation to family expectations – that is, until I took a “proto-land use” course, followed by an environmental law course taught by my esteemed mentor and friend, Michael Heyman. That work, I knew, could become my career.

As ridiculous as it may seem, for that work I opened my solo practice in 1974. While it took many years until my practice achieved a “land-use boutique” status, it was only in the past several years it came that I had fulfilled my diplomatic career expectations. Instead of resolving international problems, I was creating community solutions –same process, different scale. My career pursuit had a deeper coherence than even I understood.

Now, I direct you to Michael Hauge’s insightful book, “Selling Your Story in 60 seconds: The GuaranteedWay to Get Your Screenplay or Novel Read.” Assume, for our purposes, that you know your story, and that you have the necessary, relevant competence and experience for your next career (or personal) endeavor. How do you “sell” your story? Hauge argues that, “Without question, the single biggest mistake writers make in pitching their work is this: They try to tell their story.” According to Hauge, “The goal of every screenplay, every movie, every novel, every story of any kind (and ultimately, every work of art) is identical: to elicit emotion … When you’re pitching your story, you must provide buyers with a positive emotional experience.” How do you do that? With your passion! “What do you love about this [your] story? What grabs you emotionally? What made you commit [to this work]?” Again, how do you make a connection?

Once I found land-use and environmental law as engaging, meaningful (socially and ecologically), I could conduct my work with enthusiasm and creativity, loving not only the success I could bring my clients, but potentially lasting beneficial outcomes to the community. I could wax more elegantly about the meaning I found in my work. But I will leave that to another day. I found my passion and, on most days, I believe that I exuded it. As Hauge notes, “Your passion is not so much something you’ll announce during a pitch; it’s an attitude you’ll convey with everything you say … Passion is contagious, and your excitement, focus and tone of voice must all convey your enthusiasm for your story.”

Don’t let Hauge’s “pitch” language throw you off. What I am talking about here precedes “branding.” Develop your story; embody it; live it with passion; and connect to others. Then, your branding can begin. More on that later.