Issue 008·Jun 21, 2020·2 minute read
El Museletter Part Huit
A billable hour doesn't exist until you bill it. Until then, it's potential.
An associate at a big firm has six potential hours every morning before lunch. The goal of those six hours is to convert as many of them as possible into actual hours. The conversion happens when a partner asks for something, you produce it, and you log the time. Without the ask, the time disappears. You sat at your desk. The hours moved across the clock. You billed nothing.
The strange consequence: an associate's job is not the work. It is making sure the work finds him. You can be the best lawyer in your class and end the month at eighty hours if no one staffed you. You can be a mediocre lawyer and end the month at two-forty if the right partner kept calling.
What looks like an industry organized around production is actually organized around demand-capture. The billable hour rewards being asked for, not being good. Being good helps you get asked for, eventually. The two are not the same thing.
This is why the smartest associates spend an unspoken part of their day cultivating partners. Drinks. Compliments. Visibility. A casual hallway comment that makes a partner think of them when the next deal lands. None of it is on the timesheet. All of it is the job.
The honest version of the billable hour is that it isn't a unit of work. It's a unit of access.