Victims of neo-liberalism: Why so few women in Australian law firms reach the top and stay there

In blunt terms: an Australian commercial law firm is no longer, for most lawyers, an enjoyable place to work. A generation ago, solicitors were respected members of the community who, in return for comfortable remuneration, and a "gentlemanly" working environment, bore onerous responsibility for solving important, complex and/or difficult problems.

Much has changed since the mid-1980s, largely for the worse. (I mean worse for lawyers, not clients – who, contrary to popular mythology, mostly receive good if not excellent service).

The lot of an Australian commercial lawyer today is to worship at the altar of their big clients, too many of whom are demanding, disloyal, ungrateful and/or obsessively cost-conscious; to slave long and unpredictable hours; and to juggle continuously a slew of tight deadlines, often unreasonably imposed.

Everyone must now be available "24/7," a dire imposition facilitated by the wonders of modern technology (mobile phones, email, video-conferencing, Blackberries and such).

But worst of all, especially for more senior solicitors, is the relentless and never-ending internal focus on "profitability."

Of course, thanks to super-capitalism, these are features of many white-collar workplaces today. But lawyers, particularly female lawyers, find themselves under the hammer more frequently and more intensely than most. A good number are unable or unwilling to put up with it.

A person who chooses to become a stockbroker or a banker or an accountant expects, perhaps even wants, to immerse himself in the vulgar cut-and-thrust of business and finance. Some will admit openly that their goal is to get rich quick.

But, at least until recently, that is not the reason most people choose to become lawyers. Few anticipate when starting out that The Australian Financial Review will become essential daily reading if they wish to advance. The Bar is another option, but it's a very tough life too.

Most students who enrol in law courses at university are bright, ambitious and idealistic. Many are of a humanist bent; they study law because science (and hence medicine) is not their bag; they imagine making the world a better place, or, at least, honourably serving the grand old institution of "the Law."

Most are keen to work hard and, up to a point, they will cope with, even relish, the stresses and strains of professional practice. What they are not ready for, I suspect, is the stark fact that "the Law" per se has become a peripheral part of modern legal practice.

When partners of law firms meet, they spend almost no time at all discussing legal matters. Specialist knowledge and technical excellence (to adopt the jargon) are treated as a given.

A large chunk of partners' time is spent arguing how to maximise "profitability" – retaining clients, getting new ones, expanding "revenue", promoting "efficiencies" (i.e., cutting costs), and appraising and appeasing staff.