The Legal Profession 2025: Reflections from a Year Out
- Catherine Flutsch
- Aug 10
- 7 min read

I have been fortunate throughout my career to experience the legal profession from a variety of perspectives and in multiple jurisdictions — from practising in some of the world’s largest firms, to working with lawyers across the globe on knowledge management strategies and systems, and, more recently, consulting for mid-sized and smaller firms.
These roles have given me both a broad and a deep understanding of the inner workings of law firms of every size, and in many different legal markets. A year ago, I chose to take on a very different challenge, stepping away from my consultancy practice to become the CEO of Ark T, Oxford’s Centre for Community Arts.
During my time as CEO, I have stayed closely connected with former clients and colleagues and kept a watching brief on developments within the profession. With the benefit of a year’s distance, certain patterns and truths have become more apparent. I have set them out here, in case they may be of interest.
The Illusion of Innovation
Despite frequent references to innovation, agility, and entrepreneurialism, much of the legal profession remains resistant to meaningful change. Many firms invest in the appearance of innovation — establishing tech labs, adopting new technology tools, and introducing new/revamped support functions — without tackling the structural and cultural norms that are barriers to adaptability.
Across multiple jurisdictions, most “innovations” I have seen have focused on making existing processes faster or more efficient, rather than rethinking them entirely. With some notable exceptions, very little has been truly innovative in the sense of overturning established ways of working in favour of something genuinely new, more effective, and more efficient.
With the distance of one year, I have realised that one of the main reasons for this stasis is the relative homogeneity of legal leadership. The majority of partners/leaders in law firms have progressed through a very narrow pathway: educated at a small group of universities, trained, and worked within a single organisational culture (if not the same firm), and promoted within the same environment in which they began their careers. This insular trajectory limits exposure to alternative perspectives, methodologies, and organisational models. When those responsible for strategic direction have only a limited experience of different ways of working, the scope for transformation becomes vanishingly small.
Diversity of Thought as a Strategic Imperative
This insular trajectory and culture mean that many firms, even those with offices spanning multiple jurisdictions, become echo chambers in which new ideas are met with suspicion and established approaches go unquestioned — and in some cases, unrecognised. Diversity of background, experience, and thinking is essential for genuine innovation. It cannot thrive in an environment where most leaders share the same educational, professional, and, often, social culture.
Yet this remains the reality in many firms. When alternative ways of working are proposed — particularly those designed to improve accessibility, efficiency, or inclusion — they are frequently met with resistance or quiet dismissal. This reaction is rarely driven by malice; more often, it stems from a desire to protect existing hierarchies and power structures. Consciously or otherwise, those at the top are often reluctant to change a system that has worked so well (for them), so far.
The Productivity Paradox
Despite some honourable exceptions, time remains the fundamental unit of value in most law firms. And yet, ironically, most lawyers are not equipped with meaningful training in time, workload, or project management. Productivity is often mistaken for endurance: the ability to take on more, stay later, or be available. This is not efficiency; it is attrition.
The billable hour model actively rewards inefficiency. Tasks that could be completed more quickly — or delegated more appropriately — are stretched across multiple time entries or carried out by the wrong level of seniority. Meetings are longer than necessary – with partners invariably arriving late for internal meetings – keeping more junior colleagues waiting and, more often than not, billing. Work is often managed by lawyers who don’t have any training in project or people management. Time is meticulously recorded, but not used wisely. In this system, “busy” is often mistaken for “valuable,” and regular long hours are often treated as evidence of importance or competence, rather than a symptom of dysfunction.
Real time management requires a more holistic approach. It involves prioritisation, intelligent delegation, automation where appropriate, and an understanding that wellbeing is a productivity factor, not a luxury. A lawyer cannot produce their best work — creatively, strategically, or ethically — if they are on the edge of exhaustion. If a piece of work does not require legal ingenuity or judgement, then it doesn’t need to be done by a qualified lawyer.
Manufactured Urgency and the Myth of Client Expectations
Another inefficiency baked into legal culture is the widespread practice of setting unnecessarily aggressive internal deadlines. I have observed that in general the higher the partner billable hourly rate – the more often unnecessarily unreasonable internal deadlines are promised, to the detriment of the well-being and mental health of the team.
These deadlines are often framed as “client service,” but in reality, they frequently serve to justify inflated fees and to reinforce the firm’s value proposition. The truth is that in the vast majority of well-managedmatters, there is no genuine imperative to have lawyers working through the night to deliver a piece of work promised by the partner for the next day. Most clients would be willing to wait an extra day for a deliverable – if it meant that the additional time resulted in lower fees and improved quality.
The illusion of urgency serves the firm far more than it serves the client. It sustains a culture of long hours, justifies inflated billing, and conceals shortcomings in workflow planning. Real client service is not delivered through frantic overwork; it is achieved through clear communication, effective management of client expectations, disciplined project management, and fees that genuinely reflect the value provided.
Automation and the Repetition Problem
Perhaps the most uncomfortable truth within legal practice is this: the vast majority of legal work is not novel. Most tasks are repeatable, predictable, and grounded in precedent. The variation lies in the context, not the substance. As such, much of the work being performed in law firms — including by highly qualified lawyers — is fundamentally automatable.
This raises urgent questions. If most legal work can be standardised and supported by AI or process design, what is the future role of the lawyer? It is not to churn through routine tasks, but to add value through judgement, strategy, and insight. That means rethinking staffing models, eliminating inefficiencies, and building teams where human expertise is focused on work that genuinely requires it.
This means a radical change in the way most law firms are structured, staffed, and operate. Even in those firms that are recognising this reality, there is hesitation. This is understandable – there is real fear – of redundancy, loss of status, or destabilisation of the existing hierarchy. But the reality is that clients — particularly large, institutional clients — are already ahead.
They are developing their own in-house tools and increasingly expect their external advisers to integrate similar technologies as a condition of instruction, often coupled with fee reductions to reflect the new ways of working. If firms do not adapt, they will not merely fall behind — they will be bypassed.
Patriarchal Structures and Invisible Exclusion
Although the pandemic has forced some rethinking of work patterns, the profession remains built on assumptions that favour a narrow group of individuals: those with no significant caring responsibilities, no disabilities, and few external constraints. The traditional structure rewards visibility, long hours, and availability — none of which correlate directly with skill, insight, or leadership potential.
These assumptions are not neutral; they are patriarchal. They have been embedded for so long that they are no longer recognised as culturally specific. As a result, the very homogeneity of those in leadership positions makes it harder for firms to imagine alternative ways of working, let alone implement them.
The result is exclusion, burnout, and a steady attrition of talent — particularly among women, carers, disabled professionals, and those who work differently. Inclusive working practices are too often treated as exceptions to be tolerated, rather than systems to be normalised. The profession will not retain its most promising people if it continues to demand that they shape their lives around an inflexible, outdated model of practice.
Misaligned Incentives and Lost Potential
Promotion within law firms continues to prioritise conformity over innovation, and compliance over courage. Individuals who mirror the behaviours of current leaders are more likely to progress than those who genuinely challenge norms.
This misalignment has consequences. The profession cannot evolve while its leadership pipeline is populated by those whose primary qualification is their willingness to maintain the status quo. Law needs strategic thinkers, emotionally intelligent leaders, and professionals with diverse experience — and yet it continues to reward those who are best at enduring the existing system.
A Different Future Is Possible — But Only with Structural Honesty
Diversity of thought, background, and experience is essential not only for fairness but for relevance. The firms that will succeed in the future are those that recognise law as a business — one where legal work is a service and a product, subject to the exact same demands for efficiency, quality, transparency, and innovation as any other.
Some firms are beginning to embrace this shift. They are overhauling legal operations, rethinking pricing models, and prioritising client experience over internal hierarchy. But many are not. They remain structurally inefficient and culturally resistant to change. If they do not strip out those inefficiencies themselves, the market will do it for them.
This is more than a strategic risk — it is a disservice to the next generation. Too many young lawyers are still being sold a version of the profession that no longer exists. And yet, there is a more exciting model emerging: one based on collaboration, adaptability, purpose, and human insight. A profession that values what lawyers do best — thinking critically, solving problems, exercising judgement — and builds systems around them that are sustainable, inclusive, and fit for the future.
If you enjoyed reading this, you might enjoy reading my reflections on being a CEO. Enough law for now — arts and culture return in the next post!