News reaches Tulkinghorn from Hogan Lovells Towers that the firm’s always innovative PR and marketing team has devised a new method of enticing partners into their office to talk.
“We offer them sweets and cakes,” says one chocolate-covered comms monkey while taking a brief pause from cramming in Green & Black’s.
These days pro bono apparently covers an ever-increasing range of activities. But surely there are limits?
The judging panel for the Lawyer 2B/BPP Law School annual writing competition was asked to stretch the limits of what is pro bono far and wide recently thanks to one entrant’s submission.
The rules clearly stated that entrants had to write a 1,500-word feature for publication in The Lawyer’s sister title about a pro bono or community project. So congratulations to one hopeful, who decided to enter a rather compelling 500-word essay arguing that legislation should be introduced to make breast feeding compulsory.
Tulkinghorn isn’t sure what this topic has to do with pro bono, but is adamant that this kind of creative thinking among potential lawyers should be nipped in the bud.
The axeman goeth
Back at HogLove, more news reaches Tulkinghorn, this time on the aftermath of the departure of the Lovells’ axe-playing rock demigod.
Deafening Feedback, the team the firm fielded at the recent 10th annual QBE rock quiz, not only won but romped home with 151.5 points. The runner was way behind on 135 points.
“It just goes to show that all the rock ’n’ roll nous didn’t leave the firm with Mr Kidby,” insisted co-captain and HogLove partner Mathew Ditchburn. “Bring on Law Rocks III on 2 June.”
Tulkinghorn has some fond memories of his school days: roasting his housemaster’s hot crumpets with his chum Jenkins; punting on the Cam with Mr Prendergast, the Latin master; and lapping up cook’s special hot, sticky custard when games was rained off.
But not all lawyers share the old man’s Arcadian memories of the alma mater.
Ashurst corporate head Stephen Lloyd is one of those whose reminiscences on his Wonder Years are tinged with bitterness. And the source of his occasional chagrin was none other than fellow corporate heavyweight Guy Norman at Clifford Chance.
Apparently Norman was a year or two above Lloyd at the exclusive Romford Academy and, as a prefect, liked nothing better than wielding his power to give the younger boy lines. Little did they know that a generation later they would be facing each other across the table of the odd billion-pound corporate finance deal.
Tulkinghorn, for his part, doesn’t see what the problem is. Many a corporate lawyer has spun him a line in his time, which he’s always thoroughly enjoyed.