still working on it.

Chaos is a Friend of Mine

-- By StephenSevero - 16 Apr 2010

"Complexity so intricate no one can fathom it."

In "Something Split," a chapter of Lawrence Joseph's Lawyerland, we are introduced to transactional lawyer Carl Wylie through his apathy. He claims he doesn't care about what the “law” is, or even “money.” Rather, Wylie says what interests him is chaos, which he describes as being “so intricate no one can fathom it.” In short, Wylie believes and accepts that everything he does is embedded in an impenetrable chaos. At first, this interest seems strange - why would a transactional lawyer, someone who deals with complex and intricate business deals on an almost daily basis, place his business beyond his ken? What good is a lawyer who doesn't even attempt to understand the nature of what he does? But approaching the story through the lens of Thorstein Veblen's Theory of the Leisure Class, this interest in impenetrable complexity stands as an almost necessary career trait.

"He is especially prone to accept so much of the creed as concerts the inscrutable power and the arbitrary habits of the divinity which has won his confidence."

In many ways, transactional lawyers can be seen as occupying the same position as the priests and holy men of Veblen's book. Like the shaman, the lawyer stands between people who want something and an amorphous power that can satisfy their desires - inscrutable but propitiable. The lawyer is intimately familiar with the power not because of an academic understanding (indeed, the power is too complex to ever be understood that way) but because he continually subjugates himself to it. He can manipulate the power within certain limits but he can't explain how he was done so. He sells his expertise - not logically or studiously obtained, but intuited through years of experience with and relationship to the power.

In many ways, the role of the lawyer can be seen as paralleling that of the priest and holy man in Veblen's book. Like the shaman, the lawyer stands between people who want something and the inscrutable but propitiable Other that can satisfy their desires. The Law, like God, is not necessarily powerful or animate in fact, but the lawyers act as though it is, and it is this behavior which gives the Law its true power. For example, the many rituals performed and artifacts used by the priest make the presence of God stronger in the eyes of the believers. Also like God, the Law itself may be too complex to understand, but, like the priest, the lawyer is intimately familiar with Its power- not by some academic understanding, but rather by continually subjugating himself to it.

Of course, that is not to say that many lawyers and priests do not think they "know" the Law and God metaphysically. Holmes defined the law, and priests have defined God. Ultimately, however the power of the Thing in everyday life is what It does. The lawyer has learned he can manipulate Its power within certain limits to obtain certain results but need not be able to explain exactly how he has done so. This is the lawyer's "expertise": a set of skills or techniques not logically or studiously obtained, but intuited through years of experience with and relationship to the power of the Law, a power which the lawyer himself helps to sustain.

Veblen sees this animism as a hereditary holdover from our more primitive days, Wylie just sees it as effective. And yet, even Wylie's description of espresso is filled with religious fervor. "I time when it hits - the extent to which it speeds the thought process. That precise point when consciousness is heightened and everything glows." He downs multiple espressos a day just to keep up with his work - which is constantly accelerating. Intense, detail oriented concentration at an ever increasing pace - sag behind and "you're irrelevant fast - real, real fast." I feel like Wylie's espresso habit is really significant in some way... I need to think more about it. let me know if you have any ideas. For me, the espresso was an example of a ritual. He won't drink anything else, he even has a preferred water brand. His entire approach to the espresso treats it as if it's some magical concoction. Plus, on a practical level, all he eats and drinks all day is 1) Fruit 2) 3-4 Double Shots of Espresso and 3) Wine. I'm not sure that's the best way to stay detail oriented.

"The sporting man's sense of luck and chance, or of fortuitous necessity, is an inarticulate or inchoate animism. It applies to objects and situations, often in a very vague way; but it is usually so far defined as to imply the possibility of propitiating, or of deceiving and cajoling, or otherwise disturbing the holding of propensities resident in the objects which constitute the apparatus and accessories of any game of skill or chance."

This animism can also be seen in the treatment of the "gray box" of CDOs and the stock market in general. Flipping stocks is a gamble, and one which allows the gambler to affect the outcome. The more people who want a stock, the more valuable it is. This satisfies the gambler's desire that his bet is not in vain, that it has influenced the outcome. "It is felt that substance and solicitude expended to this end can not go for naught in the issue." Veblen feels that this animism hampers rational thought. If the "gray box" isn't just a machine, but a being - one capable of at least some sort of clinamen, then there is little value in close scrutiny of the moving parts. It is enough to have seen it work often before, even if its wealth generation defies the laws of thermodynamics.

"Which goes to show that you can make a million dollars a year by pretending to know what you're doing, and being able to sit through interminable meetings without developing any serious maladies."

Wylie works entirely with "businesses", which Veblen sets up in opposition to "industry". Business is predatory and parasitic, and owned by the leisure class through "the 'soulless' joint-stock corporation." Through the years, Wylie has become a master at what he does - and what he does certainly requires a lot of knowledge and experience. But Wiley's knowledge seems more intuitive than rational, and his productivity is more based on the appearance of relationships than his knowledge. "You have to do things, be part of things, you don't want to be part of. You have to pretend to be what you're not."

Wylie's position is tenuous - and the exiles and emigrants of his trade seem eager to pounce upon that. "Partnership isn't worth shit. You do business with a partner or an associate to the extent to which you get more from them than what you're giving." As technology connects people from all over the world, firms no longer have to rely solely on the nearby generalist. A priest who dabbles in all the gods isn't as useful and pecuniarily valuable as one who specializes in the god I need to woo.

"The evolution of society is substantially a process of mental adaptation on the part of individuals under the stress of circumstances which will no longer tolerate habits of thought formed under and conforming to a different set of circumstances in the past."

Carl Wylie is being forced out by societal evolution, his niche becoming ever more threatened. The relationships which support his trade will be increasingly strained by pecuniary pressures. He already feels the acceleration, commenting on how much harder he works and how much faster he must move to stay relevant in the ever-expanding world. Even in relation to his own law firm (and not the whole of lawyerdom), Wylie is receding. Currently, Wylie earns his living by transferring money "in a way no one else in the world knows how to do quite as efficiently." If he continues to be the most efficient, his position will be secure. His animism, his treatment of the law as indeterminate chaos almost capable of independent conceit, may still convince his business partners of his skill - but the value of the show is rapidly decreasing. A business doesn't care about the process involved in its appeasement, it is only concerned with the result. If some lawyer can do it faster, cheaper, "better", then Wiley loses his value. "The astute man, it may be remarked, is of no economic value to the community - unless it be for the purpose of sharp practice in dealings with other communities." Increased globalization and evolution beyond predatory exploit would sound a death knell for the Carl Wylies of the world.

There is something very good here I want to figure out. If Wylie has all this expertise, how is he becoming less relevant/ efficient? You think it might help to bring back the priest-lawyer comparison? I can see how the world might be seen as having changed such that priests are seen as a less efficient way to get to God. Some people think they can talk to God directly, for example. Here it seems like Wylie is getting replaced by another lawyer...I'm confusing myself, need to think about this, too. Wylie is still very useful, and it's not necessarily that he's becoming less efficient. But he's becoming less relevant because the world is growing too quickly around him. His firm has offices all over the world, and so he's competing against all of those lawyers. And certainly beyond his firm, the businesses he works with can now hire all over the globe. You could bring back the priest metaphor if you think it would illustrate it well, though maybe the Doctor analogy I used earlier might be better. It's not just the idea that individuals can talk to God directly (which I assume would be pro se or in-house counsel in the analogy), but that there might be someone with a more ordered approach - someone who treats it as science, not religion. If that someone else is faster, than the businesses Wylie has relationships with aren't going to hire him anymore. Regardless of the history, the business will hire the more effective counsel - "Partnership isn't worth shit." Thanks for your comments.

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