LAWYERS : WHAT'S IN A NAME? MORE THAN YOU THINK

AN ESSAY

Lawyers are always in the news. They like talking to the press. And the press likes talking about them. They always have something to say; lawyers are pretty glib. They like free advertising, too. So they are happy to speak up when cameras roll.

But no matter how much press lawyers get, it's usually bad. In most cases, news stories involving lawyers discuss their avarice, moral bankruptcy, hypocrisy or outright criminality. Most recently, for instance, several newspapers reported on the proposed settlement between New York City and 9/11 workers. Apparently, the lawyers in that case (it's a big class action suit) advised the 9/11 workers to settle for around $675 million. That would give the lawyers at least 33%, or $225 million. The 30,000 workers would get the rest. A judge rejected the proposal. The press described it like this: "Judge refuses to bow to greedy lawyers. Rejects 9/11 settlement."

People expect lawyers to be greedy in America. That's their reputation. That's what they do. They intervene in private disputes, work mysterious magic behind the velvet curtain then take their fee. That's just how it works. At the same time, people expect lawyers to break rules as often as they enforce them. Vulgar punners like to cross the word lawyer with "liar;" and the pun is not too far off the mark. When hearing about lawyers, people expect elusiveness, craftiness, dishonesty, theft and nasty-spiritedness. It's all part of the public image. It is no wonder that the public does not respect lawyers. Viewed in the abstract, they are a lousy bunch.

But it's all part of the trade. Lawyering is a lousy business. Government tries its utmost to cultivate respect for the law as a beneficial social construct designed to bring about good. Yet a quick brush with lawyers undermines any respect a citizen might have developed for the law. With lawyers, it's not about doing good. It's about winning. And if winning means subverting good--or even allowing evil to prevail--then so be it. That's business. After all, that's what the client wants. As law firms like to say: "We are result-oriented." How true: Lawyers get results for their clients, even if those results seem despicable to everyone else on earth. The word "result," after all, does not necessarily imply "good" or "ethical." Results depend on who's getting them. A good result for the labor baron is a bad result for the workers. A good result for the State is a bad result for the Defendant. A good result for the employer is a bad result for the employee.

Lawyers sell results. They get them however they can. That is why people don't respect lawyers; they are crass partisans who zealously go to bat for scoundrels. In the process, they milk everyone for money and accuse everyone of lying--except themselves.

Maybe our language has something to do with lawyers' poor reputation in America. Yesterday I thought about the word "lawyer," as well as its interchangeable synonym, "attorney." Then I thought about the German word for lawyer, Rechtsanwalt. I have often uncovered compelling conceptual relationships among English words by comparing their equivalents in foreign languages. Perhaps I could understand why lawyers have such a bad reputation in America by making some linguistic comparisons.

Literally, Rechtsanwalt means "rights advocate." That sounds somehow more detached than "lawyer." Although lawyers are not the most respected members in German society, either, their name reveals something more transcendent than "lawyer." After all, a "rights advocate" is someone who stands up for rights. Rights are principles that mean something greater than individual self-interest. Rights stand for something beyond commerce and winning. Rights symbolize personal worth against government intrusion. Rights are somehow "sacred" and "inviolable." When someone violates a right, the aggrieved person has a claim against the violator. We enshrine rights. They exist beyond life. They encapsulate our deepest values. They express our fundamental expectations as individuals in society. Men have gone to war over rights. They have written philosophical treatises about the "Rights of Man" and launched revolutions to secure "inalienable rights." While rights may just be a human invention, they nevertheless represent something larger in people's lives. People willingly fight for rights. While it is ignoble to die for money, it is noble and just to die for rights.

In this light, a "rights advocate" seems a much nobler name than "lawyer." While lawyers in America--just like Rechtsanwälte in Germany--make their living by defending clients' "rights," their name suggests something far less honorable. "Lawyer" is embarrassingly common. It says nothing about "advocating for rights." Rather, it sounds like just another petty craftsman. In English, after all, the suffix "-yer" historically connotes a street-level artisan, like a "sawyer" (man who crafts wood with a saw) or "bowyer" (man who makes bows). Linguistically, then, lawyers fit into this tradition as "petty craftsmen who bend the law just as a journeyman bends a bow."

This interpretation goes beyond mere mockery. It is surprisingly appropriate in describing the lawyer's role in America. After all, lawyering is all about results in America. It is commercially straightforward. It is no different than manipulating tools to saw planks or build bows. People who want to buy plywood and bows don't care about others' rights. They merely want products to be crafted and built. And lawyers hawk the law in stores, just as sawyers hawked sawcraft in old England.

In a word, the word "lawyer" perfectly expresses the commercial nature of legal practice in America. It is not about "transcendent rights for all." Rather, it is about tailor-made products for particular clients who want particular results. The word's origin conceptually places lawyers exactly where they belong: Among street peddlers and common craftsmen.

But what about "attorney?" Does the synonym save the concept "lawyer" from moral destitution? To determine this, we must examine its etymology. "Attorney" derives from French. It takes its form from the French verb "tourner," meaning "to turn," then adds the Anglicized prefix "at-", meaning "to" or "toward." In French, the past participle of "attourner" is "attourné," meaning "turned to." The suffix "-ey" indicates that at some point an Englishman changed the French past participle into letters he could pronounce: He transformed the foreign-looking "é" into "-ey." Behold: Attorney. Literally: "Person turned to."

So how does this differ from "lawyer?" Is it any "better?" Not much. If anything, the word "attorney" refers to the lawyer's role as confidant and advisor in times of trouble. People need to "turn to" others when something bad happens to them. In some sense, the word "attorney" is paternalistic because it implies that people are too weak to fend for themselves and they need a "father-like" lawyer to shepherd them through difficulty. But in another sense, "attorney" implies that a lawyer is a partisan mercenary who will do anything his client tells him. After all, why would you "turn to" a lawyer if not to win your case at all costs?

In my view, the word "attorney" represents the lawyer's role as adversary in the American system. People "turn to" lawyers when they have a commercial problem. They expect their lawyers to vigorously advance their interests, even if those interests stand at odds with all the world. As a partisan, the attorney will "bend the law" in whatever way he can to win. In this way, the words "attorney" and "lawyer" mutually reinforce the commercial--and result-oriented-- nature of legal practice in America. People expect lawyers to do their bidding, so they "turn to" them. And once they do, they expect lawyers to sell them a ready-made product without quibbling over larger issues like conscience or ethics.

This is not to say that some American lawyers are not "rights advocates." On many levels, they are. Every legal case involves rights. But not all rights are noble. In fact, most legal rights involve contracts, property and other social mechanisms designed to maintain private ownership. As a consequence, legal rights perpetuate unfairness because those who can assert them generally have much more power than those who do not. To speak broadly, those with more riches often have substantially more legal rights than those without riches.

But these are merely "technical," private legal rights. There are public rights, too. And those rights have a largely positive connotation. Most people think about public (constitutional) rights when they hear the word "rights," like the right to free speech and the right to equal protection under law. That is why the German word Rechtsanwalt conveys a more positive connotation with regard to the law than the English words "lawyer" and "attorney." It focuses on rights, not commerce or craftsmanship.

In America, people "turn to lawyers." Yet that is the reason why lawyers always get bad press. No one likes a crafty, small-minded, contentious partisan who bickers and backstabs for a fee. Yet that is what lawyers do here. They are crafty craftsmen who bend bows for a set price, not noble "rights advocates." They sell products, just like any other peddler. But unlike other peddlers, they are paid to fight for one person's "rights"--and trample you if you get in their way.

LAWYERS ARE BAD MEN AND CLIENTS ARE ONE-DIMENSIONAL SIMPLETONS...AND THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT

AN ESSAY

Over the last few days, I have been paging through my old law school ethics casebook, The Law and Ethics of Lawyering (Foundation Press 4th Ed. 2005). When I took this course in law school, I immediately recognized it was different. No other course investigated ethical quandaries in law practice. Sadly, our professor seemed less concerned with the abstract philosophical dimension to the course than with its technical aspects. After all, it is hard to get lawyers to understand ethics because lawyers understand law.

Contrary to popular belief, law and ethics are distinct from each other. Ethics are internal, subjective conceptions concerning the "right" decisions to take in life's ever-changing circumstances. Ethics depends on individual conscience. Law, by contrast, is nothing more than an official collection of written rules that a State formulates to govern external behavior. Law does not require conscience; it requires only technical compliance.

Applying these definitions, it is easy to see that a person can act legally without being ethical at all.

I have written at length about the incongruous relationship between ethics and law. The relationship is uneasy not just because ethics and law stand at opposite philosophical poles. Rather, the relationship is doubly uneasy because "lawyering" in America is adversarial. It is hard to adhere to ethical norms when you are constantly trying to "beat" your opponent and win money. By the same token, American lawyering is extremely commercial. Successful lawyers win their cases because they want to make money. This makes them "result-oriented." That's bad for ethics because ethics is less concerned with results than with means. An ethical person refuses to act in certain ways or even conceive certain actions. Put another way, ethics disqualifies particular means from consideration. Yet a "result-oriented" person--like the average American lawyer--refuses to take any means off the table. When you want to win, you don't refuse to play all your cards.

Yet this is how lawyers must think. After all, they serve the law, not ethics. The law prescribes conduct through language. Lawyers advise clients how to exploit ambiguities in language to avoid the law's reach. All language is imperfect. The law is no exception. Lawyers seize on the law's linguistic imperfections every day to make a living. How can ethics survive in an atmosphere where everyone just wants to game the system?

Sure, lawyers all must take "ethics courses" just like I did. But teaching "ethics" to a lawyer is something like teaching dining room etiquette to a wild animal. Law students take the ethics course because they must: It is required to graduate. And even then, most students view the course as a meaningless formality. Rather than using the course to cultivate ethical sensibilities and become "ethical people," they learn how to read "official ethics rules," then tailor their behavior to avoid censure from professional boards. In essence, then, the "ethics" course devolves into yet another course on law: How to read written standards and make arguments designed to exploit weaknesses in language.

But I am not your average guy. I might have done well in law school, but I hesitate to call myself a "lawyer." No, I am too interested in theory to be a lawyer. I am too interested in ideas and philosophy to blindly advocate a client's selfish financial interests until I die or retire. Put simply, I think deeply about the law and its relationship to civilization. That disqualifies me from everyday "law practice." My commitment to theory might drastically reduce my income. But it dramatically increases my understanding about the world we inhabit.

When I read text from my old ethics casebook, I relate it to all my other ideas about law and civilization. Recently, for example, I re-read Oliver Wendell Holmes' musing on the lawyer's role in American society. He said: "If you want to know the law and nothing else, you must look at it as a bad man, who cares only for the material consequences which such knowledge enables him to predict, not as a good man, who finds his reasons for conduct, whether inside the law or out of it, it the vaguer sanctions of conscience." The Path of the Law (1920) at p. 169.

Holmes' remark closely tracks my own views about the law and human nature. In short, Holmes understands that the law essentially serves "bad men" who just want to know whether they will lose their bodily freedom or their money, not "good men" who seek answers in the "vaguer sanctions of conscience." In essence, Holmes suggests that the law is fundamentally cynical; it merely provides explicit written standards that enable men to modify their behavior for maximum personal gain. And because the law is cynical, so too are the men who empower it: They just want to enrich themselves.

Holmes calls such men "bad." But in fact, he just means "selfish." It is not necessarily morally "bad" to be selfish. But no one would dispute that "selfishness" is neither noble nor especially praiseworthy. No one remembers men who just want to remain free and make the most money they can. They are selfish; and the law exists for them. Bad or not, the law advances an entirely selfish view of human nature. And there is nothing really wrong with that, because the law holds power over money, property and bodily comfort. Those are selfish men's concerns.

If the law only serves "bad men," where does that leave the "good men?" Holmes draws an important distinction here that mirrors the distinction between law and ethics. He says the law stands for selfish men and their petty motivations, not men who find "reasons for their conduct…in the vaguer sanctions of conscience." By that reasoning, "good men" must have nobler motivations than property acquisition and freedom from jail. "Good men" must craft their lives to follow the "vaguer sanctions of conscience," not just cynical legal commands. In essence, then, "good men" are ethical. Unlike law, ethics is internal. It depends on conscience. An ethical man looks within his own heart to know whether something is right or wrong, not a statute book. He does not exploit ambiguity to slither away from consequences. That is noble and "good."

Does this mean that a person who depends upon his own conscience has no place in the law? It almost appears so. After all, to properly serve the law, one must be cynical. One must look at it as a "bad man." If the law enshrines the "bad man's" motivations, then conscience apparently has no place in it. An ethical man might be cynical about others' motivations. But he will not always act cynically. True allegiance to the law, however, requires constant attention to cynical concerns. Litigants would not win their cases if they suddenly started following their own conscience rather than their hunger for money. If ethics means allegiance to conscience and "higher" motivations than the body and property, then it really has little place in the law. Holmes said as much.

Later in my casebook, I ran across an article that criticized Holmes' "bad man" argument. See William H. Simon, The Ideology of Advocacy, 1978 Wis. L. Rev. 29. In it, Professor Simon contended that Holmes' cynical conception about law compromised clients' "individual dignity" and "personal autonomy" because it required lawyers to assume that all clients have the same ends: Property and bodily comfort. The professor found it distressing that the law induces lawyers to both presume what clients want and "to lobby for a peculiar theory of human nature." Id. at 30-52. He found it lamentable that the law basically reduces "individual clients" to one-dimensional "hypothetical people" with a "few crude ends," namely "maximization of freedom of movement and the accumulation of wealth." Id.

I strongly disagree with this critique. First, while I agree that human individuality is precious, a person cedes any claim to uniqueness the moment he seeks legal redress. When a person invokes the law, he is not trying to soothe his conscience or prove his individuality. Rather, he is trying to win as much property as possible or to avoid going to prison. No matter what a client says, "justice" and "right" are not the main objects for his decision to take legal action. He takes legal action because he seeks to gain what the law can offer. The law does not offer abstract justice or right. It offers property and freedom from bodily restraint. This is all a person can hope to win from legal intervention. It is sheer ignorance--or sheer delusion--to believe it can deliver anything else. Courts do not award "good feelings" or a "sense of justice" with their rulings. No, they enter judgment in particular monetary amounts. If a client wants a spiritual reward, he should go to a church, not a lawyer's office.

Second, there is nothing wrong with imputing goals to a client. The law is not about conscience. It is not about ethics. There is a reason courts are called "Courts of Law," not "Courts of Ethics" or "Courts of Conscience." Clients could rightly complain about sacrificing their individuality if they sought to voice their conscience or their ethics. But when they file suit in a law court, they necessarily subscribe to far baser values. The law can deliver only money or bodily freedom. There is nothing wrong with imputing those base goals to a client, because those are the only things he can hope to gain from the law. If this renders lawyers "lobbyists for a peculiar view of human nature," it is not the lawyer's fault. It is the law's fault. The law is about cynicism, not conscience.

That is why the law really does exist to serve "bad men." And that is also why "good men" have little place in it. Once conscience enters the picture, law supplies no answer. Only ethics can appease the conscience.

Consequently, ethics and law do not mix. I don't care what any Bar Association, court or law professor says to the contrary. Law is external compliance. Ethics is conscientious belief.

And law cares not a fig for either conscience or belief.

IS AMBITION A BAD WORD?

AN ESSAY

I am ambivalent about ambition. In America, people generally think that ambition is a good thing. It reflects the urge to "do better" and to "get ahead" in society, or in any competitive endeavor. It only makes sense that "ambition" finds a cozy home in America. After all, this country perpetuates a myth that "anyone" can succeed here as long as they work hard and persevere through difficulty. Ambition is all they need to force their way to the top.

Or, at least, that's what the myth says. In my experience, I have learned that success in America is not so simple. Many things can go wrong. Ambition alone will not deliver success. Some people are born into the wrong families. Some suffer accidents and mishaps. Others just lose interest. Often, it's not their fault that they fail. Chance and timing have a tremendous influence on success. Ambition alone does not cut it.

Despite this, American mythology extols ambition. In most cases, Americans favorably use the word: "He is so focused and ambitious; he will be successful." Even those who already have achieved success say to others: "I was ambitious. I made it. You can, too." At funerals, eulogists sing hymns to ambition: "As a young man, he was so ambitious. He succeeded and he provided for his family." And some even equate ambition with progress. Abraham Lincoln alluded to ambition when he suggested awarding royalties to patent-seekers: "Patents add the fuel of interest to the fire of genius." Second Lecture on Discoveries and Inventions (1859).

If ambition is so great, why am I ambivalent about it? I'm ambivalent about it because there is a very dark side to ambition that reflects fundamental problems in our society's values. Lincoln's quote provides a good introduction. He uses a "fire" analogy to describe ambition-fueled "genius." Ambition is like a flame that consumes the individual, driving him toward a coveted goal. The goal might not be praiseworthy at all, but the ambitious man will burn until he fulfills it. Ambition is consumptive. It overwhelms the individual. It makes him ruthless, unscrupulous and uncompromising. In short, it possesses him.

But consumptiveness is not the only thing that makes ambition problematic. It is also problematic because it has an exclusively external focus. Grammatically, ambition requires an object. In almost every case, that object is external "success." People are ambitious for fame, wealth, advancement, recognition, praise, influence and power. They want to be seen by others in a particular way, or they want to possess things that give them authority over others. To achieve these things, they must focus their energy outwardly. They need not look within themselves for strength or meaning. They do not even need to be true to themselves. No, their fulfillment comes from external success--and the tangible rewards it brings.

Ambition is about recognition. It is about the audience. After all, only the audience can decide whether to recognize the performer. And only the audience can give the coveted ovation.

Ambition bothers me because I believe that external success frustrates individual virtue. To win recognition, you need to play by others' rules. You even need to be unscrupulous. A truly ambitious person "stops at nothing" to achieve his goal. That makes it difficult for him to adhere to principles that would constrain his actions. Honor requires a person to think as much about how he achieves a goal as the goal itself. But ambition drives a person to disregard everything as long as he achieves the goal. In this sense, ambition and honor exclude each other. Virtue is honor. That is why ambition frustrates individual virtue.

Aristotle supports my position on this point. While analyzing the Spartan Constitution in The Politics, Aristotle strongly criticizes Sparta's legislative body--the Board of Elders--because election to the Board required ambition. See The Politics, Book II, ch. ix ¶1271a9. He writes: "[I]t is all wrong that a person who is going to be deemed worthy of the office should himself solicit it. Whether he wants it or not, the man to hold office is the man who is fit for it." Id. In other words, Aristotle found a flaw in Sparta's decision to entrust politicians with a choice whether to run for office, because only ambitious people would ever make that choice. For Aristotle, personal virtue was much more important than personal ambition. Only personal virtue makes a man "fit" for office--or any other honor in life.

This may seem unreasonable to a modern American reader. After all, we learn that ambitious people are the ones who make all the money and win all the success. To the American mind, it is only natural that the most ambitious man would nominate himself to hold political office. In America, personal virtue is irrelevant next to ambition. Personal virtue does not amass fortunes or start businesses; ambition does. In a strange transmutation, ambition became virtue in America. Ambition makes a man "fit," not adherence to metaphysical principles. The fact that only "really successful" people win high office reveals how strongly commerce has infiltrated American culture. Commerce has drowned all personal virtue. And it has supplanted honor with ambition as the most essential social characteristic.

In commercial America, people want power. It takes money to get power. And it takes ruthless ambition to make money in our brutally competitive free market system. In this environment, honor does not stand a chance. Ambition is the only thing that can steel men enough to survive it.

This is not a good development. When ambition overtakes honor in society, we can expect bad things. Aristotle warned about ambition in strong terms: "Yet the truth is that men's ambition and their desire to make money are among the most frequent causes of deliberate acts of injustice." The Politics, Book II ch. ix ¶1271a9.

Aristotle knew what he was talking about. He correctly equated ambition with "deliberate acts of injustice" because ambition necessarily overshadows honor. Honor imposes limits on the means by which people achieve goals. Ambition lifts those limits. When men no longer observe honor in dealing with others, they gladly commit injustice. Their burning desire to make money overwhelms all other considerations; results are everything. They are not afraid to bend rules, dissemble, exploit and cut corners to achieve the results they seek.

By contrast, an honorable man would refuse to do these things. He would insist on "justice." But in commerce, this places an honorable man at a material disadvantage; an honorable man will always lose to an ambitious one. An ambitious man does not tie his hands with "ethics;" he is not even afraid to fight dirty when he must. In the end, the ambitious man achieves the goal, wins the power and ultimately takes high office. When ambition leads to such tangible rewards, who wouldn't want to be ambitious?

Probably not many. Nonetheless, I venture that honor offers its own rewards. Success can be measured in ways beyond salaries and fame. Some success is purely internal. Some success flows from personal excellence and adherence to personal standards. Put differently, it can be rewarding to be ethical. Although ethics may impede ambition and external success, it leads to virtue. It may be an antiquated sentiment to say that success means being honorable. But I really think it does.

External success is overrated. I leave it to the ambitious to chase external recognition and rewards. For my part, I am content to live according to my own heart and my own principles. I strive to do wrong to no one, not to make a certain salary. I strive to help those who need it, not to win praises from a supervisor. I burn to express my own personality, not to tailor my speech for a money prize. Call me old-fashioned--or even antiquated--but honor is very important to me.

But I can't be ambitious for honor. True honor exists without a need for external recognition or reward. Honor does not bestow career advancement, at least not consciously. No, ambition only works for those who crave external rewards. By contrast, honor is an internal reward. It is inwardly fulfilling. As such, ambition will not help you find honor--or "achieve" it. In fact, while it may be an achievement to live with honor, there's no trophy or plaque to commemorate the day you became honorable.

That's what an ambitious person will never understand.

ARE LAWYERS ALLOWED TO CARE ABOUT FAIRNESS?

AN ESSAY

I like fairness. I always have. Even when I was a kid, I couldn't stand it when people got preferential treatment when it appeared to me they didn't deserve it. I didn't like it when other kids cheated at games, or when I saw that some kids' parents had more money than mine. "That's not fair," I complained. When I was young, I earnestly believed that everyone should have an equal chance to succeed at things. And I believed that success had something to do with merit. For me, fairness expressed whether a situation was fundamentally right or wrong. It was intuitive. I even thought that our government cared about fairness.

My understanding about fairness changed over time. I learned that fairness had two dimensions, one substantive, the other procedural. "Substantive" fairness referred to the intuitive judgment whether a situation was right or wrong. "Procedural" fairness referred to the technical circumstances that either gave or withheld an equal chance to achieve a particular result. For example, racial realities in America reflect "substantive unfairness" for black people because their economic social situation is largely worse than that for comparable white Americans. On the other hand, court rules and contract terms might reflect "procedural unfairness" because they tilt technical rules to favor one party over another in a dispute. Substantive fairness is basically a "justice" inquiry. Procedural fairness is more technical. But both imply a confrontation between opposing forces with "something at stake."

In law school, I cared about both substantive and procedural fairness. I used to complain about results in particular cases because they were "unfair" to one side or the other. This amused my professors. Slowly, I learned that while the law professes to supply "procedural fairness" to both sides in a legal dispute in an effort to assure "substantive fairness" (AKA "justice"), the reality is that fairness does not really matter. Procedure and form are more important than substance in the law. The side with greater resources and greater procedural tact will win. One motion beats another motion. A dismissal beats a complaint. A judgment beats a plea. Papers must be filed properly or they will be rejected, no matter how cogent their arguments. Sometimes these procedural results lead to "substantive fairness." But it is really irrelevant. Judges simply look to see whether the lawyers' behavior matches the rulebook. Legal officiating, then, is really just a technical exercise; it is not necessary that both sides have equal procedural opportunities. And it certainly is not necessary that the ultimate result be "substantively fair."

And how could it be? After all, fairness only enters the analysis when two sides confront one another. Fairness comes into play not just in the law, but also in fistfights, football games and poker tournaments. When two sides compete for a result under common rules, fairness rears its head. When something is at stake, fairness matters. Children scream "No fair" only after investing themselves in a game that offers some reward; without confrontation, fairness does not really matter. People want fairness when they strive to obtain a result that will favor them and disfavor someone else. They want to know that they had every opportunity to vindicate their desire to win. In legal terms, litigants want to know that they had every chance to advance their interests, or to protect them if they are threatened.

This creates a dilemma. After all, lawyers in our legal system--like rabid children vying for victory in a game--badly want particular results. They are not neutral guardians committed to abstract principles like "procedural fairness." Rather, they are biased advocates determined to win. In fact, they take an oath to "zealously" represent their clients' legal interests, and that means pulling out all the stops to prevail. This is problematic because fairness and bias do not go hand in hand. If fairness means giving the other side exactly the same opportunity to win as you, then fairness reduces your chances to win. As a biased advocate, you must increase your chances to win, not reduce them. In that sense, lawyering and fairness appear antithetical to one another.

Still, lawyers inevitably say that they just want "fairness" for their clients. But here they confuse their terms. Yes, they certainly want "substantive fairness," namely, a biased result that intuitively pleases the client. But they do not want "procedural fairness," namely, giving the other guy an equal chance to win. Additionally, lawyers misuse the word "fairness" all the time. They say they care about fairness, but they really mean "favorable results for me." If they win, they say the process has been "fair." If they lose, though, they say they were treated "unfairly." This has nothing to do with abstract fairness. This is mere bias and disappointment.

We should not be surprised that lawsuits are brutally acrimonious affairs because we follow the adversarial system in the United States. That means we basically allow two diametrically opposed, biased parties to battle it out to determine various property and liberty rights. One side gains; the other loses. It is always a zero-sum game. As such, advocacy is essential. The lawyers must go for the throat or their clients lose everything. Courts praise the adversarial system because they say it leads to greater "truth." After all, according to the apologists, the "truth" will inevitably come out as two sworn enemies struggle to gain an advantage over each other. And when money is at stake, they will stop at nothing to win. Truth, then, is the "collateral fallout" from biased adversary confrontations.

And here again arises the dilemma. How can fairness matter in bitter confrontations like this? Will either side in a lawsuit value fairness to the other when they are sworn to ruin each other? That is like asking NFL teams to ensure that their opponents get all the favorable flag calls they deserve. In other words, it is sheer fantasy. When two sides confront each other and stand to lose all if they do not win, fairness to the other guy is the last thing on their minds.

I mention all this because our legal system professes respect for fairness. Everyone in court says they are either "aggrieved" or "wrongly accused." They say they just want an opportunity to be heard in a fair forum. Yet during that opportunity to be heard, they want to treat the other side as unfairly as possible in order to win the fight. No one really cares about securing "ultimate fairness." Individual litigants--and their lawyers--just want biased results.

Judges should care about fairness. But as merely technical stewards committed to determining whether lawyers meet the standards set out in motion rulebooks, they have little power to reflect on power disparities between the parties--or unfairness in the rules themselves. Court rules and civil procedure protocols present fairness problems in their own right. Judges do not have the authority or discretion to deeply think about larger fairness issues. Their job is technical, not philosophical or ethical. Behavior either falls within the rule or without. Sometimes the result is fair, sometimes it isn't. Sometimes it's "fair" to bar an injured person from filing a lawsuit because he missed the date by one day. Sometimes it isn't. But from the judge's perspective, rules are rules. And that ends the judge's role.

This is why so many legal cases arouse disgust in neutral onlookers. From a detached perspective, it appears that fairness means nothing in the average lawsuit. Rather, it appears that mere compliance with rules and deadlines takes precedence over the question whether each side has a fair shot at a particular result. And lawyers do their best to belittle, degrade and discount everything their opponents say in court. This gives the impression that they would be just as satisfied if they won unfairly as if they won fairly--just so long as they win. Fairness seems the last thing on their minds. Indeed, they only mention "fairness" if they lose a point, in which case they say the result is "unfair."

In truth, we cannot blame lawyers for acting this way: They are biased advocates in an adversary system. They are trained to exploit rules in order to obtain private results, not to ensure that abstract fairness flows from every confrontation under the law. Lawyers are not philosophers or ethicists; they are employees hired to do a job. And employees are biased toward their employers because they receive pay to act only in their interest.

Bias and fairness are mutually exclusive. That is why I think it is extremely difficult--if not impossible--for our legal system to consistently deliver fair results. That is not to say that biased advocacy does not sometimes lead to abstract fairness. But that is a side effect at best, not an intentional result.

IF YOU ARE "RESULT-ORIENTED" AND "CLIENT-FOCUSED," YOU MUST BE DISHONORABLE WHEN NECESSARY

AN ESSAY

Law firm websites amuse me because they all use similar words. Generally, they like to advertise their ability to "win" so that new clients will hire them. After all, potential litigants want to win their lawsuit; there's a lot of money at stake. And no one likes losing money. In essence, law firms strut their prowess in obtaining "favorable outcomes." You constantly run across muddy phrases like: "result-oriented," "client-focused," "winning team," "success-centered" and "dedicated to your cause."

You could be forgiven if you thought law firms were sports teams. After all, they talk about winning all the time. Does that mean legal disputes are simply games? If you read civil procedure rules, you might think they are.

But I am not writing today to draw parallels between gaming and the law. Instead, I am writing to argue that the legal profession's relentless fixation on "results" requires lawyers to adopt a "result-determinative" approach to problems. That approach, in turn, makes it impossible for lawyers to adhere to larger principles without sinking into a conflict of interest.

American lawyers occupy an awkward philosophical position. On the one hand, they swear to advance principles such as "justice," "right" and "honesty" as "officers of the court" in a democratic system. Put briefly, lawyers swear to adhere to an "honor code." Put broadly, "honor" means that a person adheres to certain metaphysical ideals no matter the circumstances, even if it is unprofitable. Honor imposes restrictions on the means calculated to obtain certain results. Yet lawyers constantly use words like "results," "outcome," "winning," "goal" and "dedication to client interest." These concepts involve the ends of particular conduct, not means. An honorable man refuses to adopt certain tactics to obtain ends, even if the ends are favorable. But that puts lawyers in an uncomfortable position, because they also swear to "zealously advocate their clients' interests." In short, how can a lawyer both remain true to his honor code while retaining every trick in the book to win for his client?

As a profession, lawyers almost invariably sink into ethical conflict. Law schools attempt to remedy this problem by forcing lawyers to take an "ethics course," while States force them to take an "official ethics exam" before admission to the Bar. But ethics is not about external compliance and multiple-choice answers. No, ethics is about spirit and character. It is internal, not external. It is hard to police and even harder to teach. There is an immense difference between "the rules for being an honorable person" and "being an honorable person." Lawyers learn the rules; that is all they need to do. It does not matter whether they actually are honorable. In fact, the substance of their work makes honor almost an impossible path.

People throw around the term "conflict of interest" all the time. For the longest time, it made no sense to me. I knew it was bad; I just did not understand it. I did not grasp what it meant until I went to law school and saw what lawyers do. A conflict of interest simply means that a person attempts to serve two masters. It is about loyalty and integrity. If a person gives his full loyalty to one "master," there is no way he can be fully loyal to the other. Thus, a conflict of interest cripples a person's ability to be faithful to another. And it is not just about money. Conflicts of interest can arise between principles, too. Put another way, a person cannot remain faithful to a set of principles while contradicting those principles in the service of someone else.

This is what happens with lawyers. When the State administers the attorney's oath to newly-admitted lawyers every year, it obligates them to advance core principles, like justice, fairness, honor, integrity and collegiality . But at the same time, lawyers take an oath to "fully and zealously represent clients." From the very first moment, then, lawyers swear to serve two masters. They promise to vindicate larger principles at the same time they promise to obtain "favorable results" for their private clients. Private clients do not care how lawyers get the results they want; they just want the results. In this climate, how can a lawyer maintain his honor?

Are there any honorable lawyers in the world? Probably. I did not encounter many when I practiced. In truth, that is not surprising given the impossible ethical position lawyers must occupy. Consider this: Honor imposes restrictions on the means and methods calculated to reach a certain goal, while clients demand a certain goal. If a dishonorable method is the only way to achieve that goal, how can the lawyer remain true to both his honor code and his client?

In my view, lawyers' obsession with "client focus" and "results" reveals their predisposition to abandon honor when necessary. When a person deeply wants to achieve a goal, he adopts the means most likely to achieve it. Honor, however, might bar a person from resorting to the most effective means. Do lawyers have the courage to abstain from certain victory merely to appease their ethical sensibilities? If a lawyer could win a multimillion dollar case through some trick--and he knew no one would ever discover it--would he resort to it? If he were loyal to his honor code, then he would not. But he would if he were loyal to his client. His client wants to win. The client does not care about honor. He just wants victory at the lowest cost and lowest risk. If a dishonorable means leads to victory at low cost and low risk, so be it.

Lawyers contend with these philosophical tensions every day. They face inevitable conflict between their clients' wishes and the principles they swore to uphold. Most troublingly, this conflict has a decidedly commercial dimension. After all, lawyers need money to stay in business. Only money pays rent and keeps offices running. Only money buys cars and sends kids to college. It takes money to pay the heat bill and buy presents for your wife at Christmas. Between principles and clients, who pays money? Only clients. In that light, to whom do you think a lawyer will give his maximum effort? Honor doesn't stand a chance in these circumstances. Debt collectors do not take "honor" or "principle" as payment; they take cash, checks, money orders, bank transfers or MasterCard®.

Lawyers might say they support justice, fairness and right. They might insist that they have integrity. They might even think they have honor. They might point to the wall and show you their Bar Association plaques. Still, did justice or integrity pay for their offices? No, winning cases for their clients did. That does not necessarily mean that winning is always dishonorable. But adopting a "flexible" approach to honor greatly increases a lawyer's chances to win a case. At day's end, winning matters. Law firms say it themselves. Why should a lawyer hamstring himself with honor? Great players don't win by tearing plays from the playbook; they keep every option open.

Adopting a "result-oriented" approach to any human enterprise inevitably leads to a debate about probability. If a person wants results, he adopts means that will "most probably" lead to those results. Yet honor excludes certain means. In that sense, honor represents a barrier to sought-after results. Honor reduces the probability of obtaining results. For the result-oriented person, that is an unbearable idea. When winning matters, it is frustrating to know that effective tactics are off the table.

Honor takes many tactics off the table. For a lawyer who swears to obtain results for a private client, that is not good. Pleasing the client leads to monetary success. Fulfilling honor, by contrast, gains nothing except intellectual satisfaction. As commercial actors who need money to stay afloat, lawyers cannot survive on intellectual satisfaction. Rather, they must please their clients. In so doing, they reveal their classic conflict of interest: Client wins; principles lose (if necessary).

Their own rhetoric shows which master matters more. You don't see law firm websites advertising "polite lawyers who try their best to win consistent with overreaching ethical imperatives, but who refuse to adopt certain dishonorable methods to win you money." Nor do you see websites proudly describing their lawyers' refusal to countenance client fraud to win a case. No, ethical victories don't make good advertising material. Money victories do. Results sell, not principles.

I would like to see an honest law firm slogan: "We're all about results : You don't care how you get 'em… and neither do we."

In this environment, how can honor survive? When results are all that matter, how can a lawyer insist on principles that might threaten those results?

THE TRAGEDY OF PROFESSIONAL EDUCATION : PAYING FOR A LONG SHOT

AN ESSAY

We learn that education is a good thing. When we are young, we learn that the good students get into good schools, and that students at good schools get into good graduate schools. Then the good students at the good graduate schools get really good jobs, and they make lots of money. In sum, we absorb a distinctive mythology about education; education tantalizes us into believing that diligent study, good grades and academic achievement translate immediately into “worldly success.”

“Real life” teaches a very different lesson. I always put the phrase “Real Life” in quotation marks because so many people do not understand that it does not reflect an “absolute” or a “norm.” Rather, the words merely describe cruel commerce and all the ruthless human behavior that accompanies it. Still, people who use the term “real life” generally do so in order to scare some dreamer away from “unimportant” pursuits and to focus on what will “make money.” If he doesn’t, after all, he will “not succeed” and go homeless. In commerce, results matter. It doesn’t matter how you get results; you just need to get them without getting caught breaking the law. A guy with $4,000,000 in the bank got results, ethics or no ethics. But an ethical guy with $600 did not get results. What good did ethics do him in “real life?”

But dreamers aren’t the only ones who can’t cope with “real life.” Intelligence and academic success don’t matter, either. In some sense, dreamers court disaster because they should know that commerce doesn’t care about individual expression unless it makes money. But what about everyone who studies hard in school, tries to get good grades and values knowledge? They face the same risks as the dreamer. This is the tragedy of education: It does not prepare students for commerce. In fact, if people prize educational values too much, they will probably fail in commerce.

Still, education is a step along the “traditional life path” leading to “success.” Every “successful” person spent some time in school, somewhere. Some were good students. Others weren’t. No matter a student’s ability, every student hears rhetoric about academic success. They compete with one another to get better grades than their friends. They struggle to outdo one another for accolades and recognition. They proudly advertise their grade point averages next to their names in the belief that a higher number indicates greater intelligence and a better chance at employment. Education, then, becomes an instrument to win employment. While some students truly relish the opportunity to learn, most are satisfied simply to get degrees that enable them to compete for jobs. In other words, wide-ranging knowledge is simply a forgettable means to win some boring, compensated post at a private firm.

In this sense, a mythology develops around education. Students think that smart people get good grades, and good grades grant instant access to the “best jobs.” “Best jobs” mean jobs that pay the most, not the jobs that are most intellectually rewarding or noble. But this is all a myth. Jobs do not depend on intelligence. True, students with good grades have something to flaunt at interviews. Yet no one gets a “job” simply because they are smart. Rather, jobs are private contractual relationships between “employers” and “employees.” Unlike education, employment cares not for enrichment, intellectual broadening or self-expression. Instead, it is concerned with the small-minded advancement of the employer’s financial mission. Students learn to address many issues from many perspectives. By contrast, employees are expected to address one issue from one perspective—all the time. In this light, it is easy to see why truly passionate students could have a hard time coping with “a job.” Jobs, as commercial relationships, are narrowing. Employees are instruments to the employer’s gain. The employer gains nothing from rumination. He gains only from purposeful, targeted activity. Thus, “educational values” differ profoundly from “commercial values.” For years, students learn that their individual ideas and impressions matter. Employees quickly learn that they do not. In fact, they may even be censured for exploring their own ideas. In short, the sole question in employment is: “How does this activity economically benefit the employer?” This unabashed instrumentalism is hard for intelligent people to swallow.

But there are other, less abstract barriers to success in employment. Employment represents a private, contractual relationship. As such, market rules dictate whether there are enough employers to offer work to hopeful employees. After all, employees are a substantial expense. Employers must set aside money for wages, offices, health insurance, payroll taxes, food, and myriad other incidentals associated with keeping a human being working on their land. During profitable times, employers have extra money to hire more people to do their bidding. During leaner times, employers do not have enough money to hire. During losing times, employers must cut existing employees in order to maintain any profit at all. These natural “boom and bust” periods in commerce play a large role in whether employees find jobs. It does not matter how smart, zealous or motivated a student may be. If times are tough, no one gets a job. In fact, people are just happy not to lose their jobs. For those who don’t have a job yet, it’s tough luck time, valedictorians included.

Employment, then, is a matter of both grace and luck. Grace plays a role to the extent that the employer—as the economically dominant party—agrees to allow an employee to serve him for “compensation.” Grace is not objective; employers hire people they like. There is no magical checklist that automatically entitles a hopeful applicant to a job. Luck plays a role to the extent that economic times must be sufficiently robust to allow the employer to spend money on new servants. Contrary to university rhetoric, no academic wizardry can influence these factors. In commerce, bottom lines dictate who gets hired. If there is not enough money to hire, no one gets hired. It’s that simple. It doesn’t matter if Leonardo da Vinci applies; if the company can’t afford to hire anyone, it won’t. Intelligence and merit have nothing to do with it.

This is a jarring truth for students who spend their whole lives studying in the expectation that their academic toils will yield a reward some day. It is even more jarring for students who take their education further than others. Professional schools, for example, advertise their “graduate employment rates” all the time. In recent years, college degrees have increasingly proven insufficient for “really good jobs.” Recent graduates experience this trend when they try unsuccessfully to land even entry-level positions after college. In order to increase their chances to obtain “high-paying jobs” after college, they decide to go to school again, this time to be doctors, lawyers, accountants or even social workers. In so doing, they immerse themselves in an education more rigorous than anything they have ever encountered. They mercilessly compete with one another for grades, knowing that employers do not even interview candidates who fall below a certain threshold. They put themselves through anxiety, stress and personal turmoil to get the degree. After so much work, they expect some results. At this stage, they really could care less about what they study; they simply want a comfortable job after enduring so much academic hazing.

But a professional degree is no automatic ticket to employment, either. Just because a student gets a law degree does not change the commercial dynamic that drives employment markets. Private firms either have extra money to hire or they don’t. A student’s miraculous academic success at law school will not guarantee him a job at a super firm if the firm does not have a healthy profit margin. In this sense, a professional education is no entitlement. It may be grueling and unforgiving, but a student’s academic tribulations do not magically open employment doors. Only grace and luck can do that.

This is tragic. I know from experience that professional school is not pleasant. In fact, it is anxiety-ridden, exhausting and mentally debilitating. School demands so much energy that students must forgo virtually everything else in their lives to keep up. It can ruin relationships, destroy finances and impact health. It seems to go on forever and impose a new reality on students. They must either give themselves fully to the discipline or risk failure. It teaches exacting attention to subtle details and self-excoriation for failing to notice them. Finally—and ironically—many students go into unsalvageable debt to finance this harrowing “learning experience.”

After all this trauma and sacrifice, it is no wonder that professional school students expect a reward at the end. But they don’t get it. Rather, they get a chance to win a reward. Moreover, because employment moves in cycles, it is really a long shot. There are so many things that can prevent a professional student from getting a job. There are no guarantees. In fact, there are a million uncontrollable contingencies that can derail a student’s hopes. A student may get fantastic grades, but lose out on a job because he wore a bad belt to the interview, and the interviewer put special (and unexplainable) emphasis on belt choice. A male student may be a close runner-up for a job, but lose out because the firm wants to hire a woman, not a man. Another student may have conveyed a nervous impression or have been sick on interview day, dashing his chances. Still another may be number one in his class, but really anger the interviewer because the interviewer has a deep-seated resentment toward overachievers. And some other student may send out hundreds of resumes and receive no response from anyone, ever. Worse, there are pernicious, unfair factors at work, too. Some employers may only want to hire students from certain “prestigious” schools. Others may ignore everyone in order to make room for a friend or relative. Still others may only want to hire women they find sexually attractive. Lastly, there is always the “boom and bust” cycle in commerce. When times are tight, no one gets a job, no matter how brilliant they are. In short, only grace and luck lead to employment. Intelligence and sacrifice entitle students to nothing.

Getting a “good job” is a long shot. Despite popular academic rhetoric, diligent study, intellectual curiosity and school success do not magically lead to employment. In fact, educational values have little to do with employment. It is tragic when superb students with real academic promise cannot find suitable jobs.

But there is a way to escape this tragedy. I, for one, do not regret that I obtained a professional education. I saw that employment had little to do with the educational values I cultivated as a student. I did not sacrifice my passion for learning by playing the employment game. Rather, I went to work for myself. By refusing to participate in the “employment game,” I preserved myself from the psychic agony and perpetual disappointment that stem from the employment relationship. It is a more difficult road in the sense that I must find other ways to make money. But what I lose in stability I make up for in happiness. I know that winning employment is arbitrary, and that employers are capricious. Furthermore, I know that getting a job is hardly a “reward;” rather, I view it as a form of surrender. I do not like servility. No matter how “good” the job, employment is a species of servility. Employees are servants. They are conceptually weak and fawning. I do not like being a weak concept. If employers have the power to extend grace, I escape potential disappointment by refusing to even petition them.

Yet I pity all the hopeful students who think their academic effort will lead them to success in private employment. They will soon see that commerce plays by different rules; no one is entitled to anything, unless, of course, they are related to someone in power. Relationships and connections are always better than merit and intelligence. That’s “real life” for you.

GET AN EDUCATION THAT WORKS : GET A DEGREE IN WINNING

AN EDUCATIONAL MESSAGE

By : Professor Victor A. Siegreich, Ph.D. in Victory Management, Winnings University of New Jersey; Senior Lecturer in Winning; Author, “I Just Want to Win : Getting Ahead in Life Fast,” Doubleday Publishers (New York 2004); Former Managing Member, Baldwin, Gorman & Slippings, LLC a statistical consulting firm serving Federal Reserve Banks.

Isn’t it about time you ended your losing streak in life? Haven’t you had enough setbacks, letdowns and heartbreaks? Aren’t you sick of being rejected from jobs and romantic partners? Basically, aren’t you just sick of losing? You’re probably asking yourself why you can’t muster a win in life. After all, you always followed the rules and lived to be fair. You respected other people and never cut the line. You thought that being nice and studying hard would lead you to success. You thought that decency and politeness would ultimately pay off in your life.

You were wrong. Your quest for simple decency let the other guy get the job. Your commitment to kindness and intellectual enrichment confused you while the other guy got the girl and made the money. But you aren’t beaten yet. You can come from behind to win at life. Winnings University can help you do it.

Here at Winnings, we offer education that works, not education that enriches. First and foremost, we teach that life is a game that can be won. It has rules and customs. It offers rewards. Just like any game, a person who knows the rules—and who knows how to exploit them easily—will always come out ahead. More importantly, life is a game with competitors. Everyone is racing for the same goal; and there can only be one winner at a time. At Winnings, we remind our students that life is a game that must be won. And we teach our students that results matter, because winning is the ultimate result.

Traditional education fails to appreciate results. In liberal arts colleges, for example, professors teach that knowledge is valuable in itself because it “enriches the mind” and “gives its own psychic rewards.” This is nonsense. In fact, traditional education dooms untold students to failure in life because they do not learn that life is a game. Rather, they learn that life is a “unique experience” that “everyone experiences differently.” They learn that “everyone is valuable, no matter his abilities” and actually do not feel bad when they lose at something. In short, traditional education does not teach students how to win.

This is fatally flawed thinking for many reasons. First, life is a competition. Even the animal kingdom reveals to us that organisms must compete for limited resources on this planet. We are not different from hyenas or birds. Bold birds get the catch; lazy ones do not. Second, life is about results, not process. Results mean winning. In the animal kingdom, winning means getting food and dominating other animals. So too among humans: For us, winning means getting money and employing other men to work to make us even more money. Third, life is not a “unique experience” where the “individual matters.” Quite the contrary, life is an easily understandable game with easily understandable rules. Everyone wants to win, and everyone can learn how to win. Everyone wants the same results. Process is irrelevant; results are everything. We know who wins and we know who loses. Traditional education tries to conceal these brutal truths by offering an elixir for failure in life. But at Winnings, we simply acknowledge the truth about life and teach our students accordingly.

At Winnings, we have a simple motto: “Winning matters, no matter how you play the game.” Contrary to Vince Lombardi’s apocryphal excuse for losing, winning is everything; how you play the game doesn’t really matter. After all, winners get things done. They take charge. They beat the losers and take what they win. Nobody hears from the losers. After they lose, they don’t matter. So when a winner wins, no one remembers how he did it. He gets to tell the story. In life, the winner literally takes all, including the right to tell others how he won. And once he wins, he can sit back and savor his victory. That is why it is absolutely essential to win in the first place. Without winning, you become a loser. And nobody listens to—or even remembers—a loser.

Sadly, most people are losers. But it is not their fault. Our educational system justifies and even laurelizes losing mentalities. By focusing on process rather than results, losers whine about fairness when they should be looking for creative ways to win the game. Additionally, losers become indignant when people they consider “stupid” somehow manage to outwit them at life’s game. Rather than asking themselves why they lost, they cross their arms and whine that they are entitled to success because they are smart. This is a losing mentality. And our educational system perpetuates it by fooling students into thinking that abstract knowledge is valuable.

Knowledge is not valuable unless it translates into winning. Theory is worthless unless it translates into winning practice. Thinking never won anything; doing did. At Winnings, we make our students understand this. We do not care for erudition, theory or overintellectualism. Rather, we stress that practical success and know-how are much more valuable than critical thinking. After all, thinking leads only to paralyzed rumination. Thinkers vacillate. Doers just get up and get things accomplished. In a competition between a thinker and a doer, it is obvious who will win. The doer will get up earlier, put in more hours and doggedly pursue his goal until it is done. He will not think about the purpose of the activity or his existential disgust with his lot. A thinker, by contrast, will half-heartedly attend to his work. He will spend his time moping and questioning things rather than ruthlessly suppressing the competition for the ultimate win. A doer will run circles around a thinker. Intelligence does not matter. In life, the more zealous competitor wins. At Winnings, we understand that.

We do not believe in enrichment. At Winnings, we teach our students the skills they need to defeat each other in life’s competitions. We do not delude them into thinking that merely “knowing more” and “thinking more deeply” will bring them success in life. In our educational philosophy, results are everything. If an “enriched mind” does not bring results, it is not “rich” at all. We would much rather cultivate an “unenriched mind” that gets the job done than an “enriched mind” that wastes time considering theoretical nonsense. To that extent, we do not teach art history, African-American studies, Native American Oral History, Color Use in Late Romantic Painting, literature, music studies, philosophy, Japanese Theater, American Cultural Development or Non-Profit Institutional Management courses. Instead, we teach “Shortcut Analysis,” “Believable Deception Management,” “Intimidation : Theory and Practice,” “Ethics are for Losers,” “The Loss Avoidance Practicum” and “Money as Goal : A Result-Oriented Approach.” Our courses teach valuable, practical skills that immediately translate into winning. We do not waste our time with knowledge that does not pay.

In America today, education is a serious investment. Many students assume crushing debt for the opportunity to study at college. We believe that students have a right to expect a return on their investment. That is why courses at Winnings arm students with the knowledge, skill and values they need to win at life. We teach them that morals and ethics do not apply when they must win. In fact, we teach that morals and ethics are serious handicaps in life’s competition. We teach them that it is perfectly normal to exploit others for financial gain. And we teach them that it is better to make a profit than to do the right thing.

By the same token, we also teach our students that many people do not like winners. To address this issue, we offer courses dealing with envious people. In life, losers become embittered and resentful. No one likes to lose, and losers get angry after a lifetime of losing. They channel their anger toward winners and even attempt to derail their successes in the future. To deal with these issues, we offer courses such as “Intermediate Grudge Dodging” and “Don’t Hate; Appreciate.” Our faculty knows how to foil angry losers. We are pleased to offer students a way to foresee losers’ antics. In sum, winners do not let losers divert their attention from winning.

Winnings University can give you the education you really want. No matter whether you are a struggling young professional or a youthful high school student who wants to be successful in life, Winnings offers programs tailored to meet your needs. We are here to teach you winning ways. We are here to help you stop thinking and start doing. We know that this is difficult. After all, we recognize that you have made your way through an educational system that taught you it is “OK to lose once in a while.” At Winnings, we will eradicate that mentality. We have no tolerance for losers; and you should have no tolerance for losing. At Winnings, we will teach you how to stop making excuses and how to get the most from people. We will teach you never to quit. We will teach you real determination. We will teach to be annoying and downright unbearable when you need to be. We will teach you to suspend your “friendliness,” “politeness” and “compassion” in order to ruthlessly crush and surpass your competition.

You would not be looking into Winnings if you did not like the way your life is going. We can understand that you might hesitate before deciding whether to study with us. After all, you probably think that friendliness, knowledge and fairness are good things. Perhaps you do not want to be a ruthless, result-oriented winner who only thinks about outdoing the competition in life. Well, if you want to be a loser, that’s your decision. Winners do not worry about these things. At Winnings, we teach our students to ignore their conscience and just win. Your conscience and your ethics are slowing you down. They stop you from doing what is necessary to win. Yet you wonder why you fail. Isn’t it obvious? You have a conscience, that’s why. You have ethics. You want to be fair. You want to treat others as you would have them treat you. But tell me the last time ethics helped you get a job. When did your conscience secure a merger deal? I’ll tell you when: It didn’t. When you were fair, did people treat you fairly in return? No, they didn’t. And they never will. Who do you think you are? Jesus Christ? He didn’t win at life, either. He was poor and ended up nailed to a cross. In a word, people want to win in this life. If that means treating you unfairly, well that’s what they will do. Conscience and ethics are for losers and saints. Losers and saints don’t win in this life.

At Winnings, we offer a way to end your losing streak. Stop complaining about the winners; be one. Stop tying your hands with ethics. Just shut up and start cutting corners like the winners do. Fight with both hands. Stop learning worthless facts about 17th Century Dutch painting and religion. Stop reading Shakespeare; he won’t pay your bills or make you wealthy. Learn something meaningful. Learn how to win. It’s about time you actually got something out of your education. At Winnings, you can. With us, you will learn that winning is better than knowledge. With a degree from Winnings, you are guaranteed to win in life. That’s what it’s all about. Our education will transform you. With time, study and effort, you will abandon unproductive behaviors such as ethics, conscience and fairness. With time, study and effort, you will learn to make every move count. You will learn to manipulate every rule and exploit every relationship. Your education will actually do something for you, not just make you “smart.” Again we say: What good is “smart” if you wind up a loser?

Take your life in a new direction. Get a degree in Winning, Victory, Conquest or Domination. You can do it if you try. Transform your life. Come from behind. Knock it out of the park. Dunk it. Sack it. Put it through the uprights. Sink the putt. It’s fourth and goal. It’s the bottom of the ninth and you’ve got a runner in scoring position. It’s time to step up and win. Swish, baby, swish…3-pointer.

Winning matters. It feels good. It pays. It’s valuable. Learn how to do it at Winnings University.

We offer financial aid to all those who qualify.