Spencer Farris, The Levison Group
Stuart Thomas avoided me this week at the Levison Towers. Usually, he will come down from his silk stocking firm on the 48th floor, but word got out that I was working on an under analysis column deadline, and Stuart knows that anything or anyone who crosses my gaze when I am working on a deadline is fair game for my column. However, it is Stuart’s birthday next week, and lest he worry while on his private jet to Barbados, I have promised not to write about him this week.
Gentle Reader, I am chagrined to report a dispute in my office, however. Not a dispute between myself and Stu, but with Pru- Pruitt Rhombus. (Not Stuart Thomas. No way is it Stuart Thomas.) Pruitt Rhombus and I had a rather heated discussion last week. Heated may be overstating the point, as the only thing that got hot was the coffee we drank.
I am a known bargain hunter. I would prefer to do without most things if I can’t get a good deal. Pruitt on the other hand, thinks bargains are the death of our society. He wants everybody to pay more.
I would attribute this to Pruitt’s age, but he looks much younger than his 50 plus years should require. Inside this young looking frame however, Pruitt is in his 60s, and the world around him is 1950.
Case in point for him is airline travel. In the early days of flight, passengers put on coat and tie for the occasion, and not coincidentally, air travel was an affair for the well heeled. The modern notion of air travel disgusts Pruitt — cattle calls and scrambling for seats which are not reserved. When I counter that more affordable fares benefit all travelers, Pruitt sneers.
The subject that caused this was a Groupon. Groupons, to my way of thinking, are a great way for merchants to move excess inventory at a slightly lower margin while hooking new customers. To Pruitt, they are ruination. This is most vexing because he is a liberal, cut from Kennedy cloth. He should applaud more readily available luxuries and staples. He does not. Simply put, Pruitt longs for a time when things cost more.
To him, anything less than full price is an abomination. Deep down inside, he believes that if things are good, they should cost more. I don’t believe him to be an elitist, but his method of selection is the opposite of mine. Given the choice between two brands or stores he had never heard of, Pru will always pick the more expensive by default.
“If I go to a nice clothier and buy a suit, I get an entire experience. They know me by name, show me exactly what I want to see and top the whole thing off with a nice glass of wine. When that clothier gives out a coupon, his store is so full that he doesn’t have time to really wait on me. Instead, I am tripping over 5 other customers, I do so for longer and the entire experience is ruined. Within months, the store goes out of business. All for a few bucks.”
“Surely the merchant knows what is best for his business. If he doesn’t like empty aisles and full racks, he is wise to discount a little, right?” I replied.
“Bah. Ruination, I tell you, ruination.”
His distaste for the cheap has a sting of logic, of course. If gas cost more, we wouldn’t drive our SUVs to work alone, but would carpool. Or ride mass transit. And our defense budget would be lower. If we didn’t save a buck or two on necessities at CheapMart, more mom and pop stores would survive and employment would go up. Instead, we provide Medicaid and food stamps to CheapMart’s employees to subsidize our purchases, making the true cost of products much higher. His list is long and, but for the suit store example, somewhat compelling, even to my inner bargain hunter.
A lawyer recently used Groupons to market his practice, and the result was less than good. This lawyer practices in trusts and estates. He offered a “cheap” deal for simple wills, and sold several discount tickets. The trouble started when his new clients didn’t want simple wills, they needed complex estates. What started out as one discounted hour of the lawyer’s time became several free hours of his time.
Unlike a restaurant or clothier who discounts merchandise, a lawyer is paid for his expertise and time. While a clothier has no ethical obligation to steer a short portly fella away from a double breasted suit with horizontal stripes, a lawyer faces discipline if he doesn’t help his client make the right choice. The problem with discount lawyering is that if the right thing to do takes longer than the quick fix, the lawyer winds up providing much more than the client paid for, or ignoring his ethical obligation.
The natural progression of lawyers wading onto the airwaves of advertisement is discount lawyering and couponing. The usual way to distinguish oneself from the myriad throng is to offer lower priced services. Lawyers who market heavily are forced to balance their time between getting clients and taking care of the clients they have. Of course, lawyers without clients have plenty of free time on their hands to ponder the ethics of advertising and couponing.
Pruitt and I quickly agreed that professional services should not be sold by the lowest bidder. We are both disgusted by the continued mercantilism of the legal profession. I prefer to think we agree because right is right, but Pruitt sneers that I am older than I pretend to be. I assure him that the wrinkles on my brow were bought at full price.
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Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column of the Levison Group. Spencer Farris is the founding partner of The S.E. Farris Law Firm in St. Louis, Missouri. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent to this newspaper or directly to the Levison Group via e-mail at comments@levisongroup.com.
© 2012 Under Analysis L.L.C.
