When I first watched ‘A Few Good Men’ as a young, aspiring lawyer, I was captivated. The film, with its powerful narrative of justice prevailing, left an indelible mark. Years later, revisiting this courtroom drama, I was struck by its potent portrayal of social justice lawyering, even if through a Hollywood lens. The climactic scenes focus intently on Tom Cruise, embodying the bright-eyed, rookie lawyer, brimming with passion and legal prowess. Against all odds, in his crisp Navy uniform, he strides into the imposing courtroom, confronts the epitome of authority and perceived injustice – Jack Nicholson – and elicits the damning confession: ‘You’re goddamn right I ordered the Code Red.’ The film culminates with Cruise surveying the now-empty, sun-drenched courtroom, the triumphant music swelling, as he exits – a cinematic embodiment of Good conquering Evil, Law triumphing over Injustice. This is the iconic “Tom Cruise Lawyer Film” moment.
For any young person contemplating a career in law, this movie scene is almost a siren call. It’s difficult not to be moved by the sheer ambition of becoming that lawyer. Not just any lawyer, but the Social Justice Lawyer – the one who, fresh out of law school, secures an improbable victory, all while exuding charisma. The lawyer who experiences that tangible, almost immediate gratification of knowing they’ve single-handedly made a world of difference.
Every budding social justice lawyer, consciously or unconsciously, yearns for their ‘Tom Cruise moment’.
But is this ‘Tom Cruise effect’ a realistic expectation? The reality of social justice work is far removed from singular, triumphant courtroom scenes. It’s a journey characterized by the often-unseen, painstaking work: the relentless gathering of evidence, the meticulous drafting of documents, the strategic navigation of legal procedures where victories, when they come, are often incremental. It’s demanding work where the fruits of labor are rarely immediately apparent. Even a courtroom win may translate to minimal tangible change in the everyday life of the individual client.
So, how then, do we measure success in this field?
Recently, I had the opportunity to speak with a group of enthusiastic young social justice lawyers. One, a recent graduate deeply engaged in community lawyering, expressed her disillusionment. In her first six months, she felt she had witnessed no significant improvement in the difficult circumstances faced by her clients. I was taken aback. History is replete with examples of individuals dedicating their lives, even sacrificing them, for incremental legal and social progress. From the abolition of slavery to the dismantling of apartheid, from the fight for equal pay to the establishment of children’s and environmental rights – the entire spectrum of human rights advancements has been painstakingly pushed forward, step by arduous step, by generations of social justice lawyers. And yet, here was a lawyer anticipating transformative change within a mere six months.
Her sentiment, however, is understandable and even vital. The ambition driving those in social justice should indeed be an urgent, unwavering demand for meaningful change. Complacency and acceptance of slow justice should have no place. However, it’s crucial to remember that our work is never performed in isolation. We are part of a vast network, a continuum of countless lawyers across generations who have, in their own time and place, contributed to advancing social justice. This young lawyer, for instance, owes her very ability to practice law to the feminist lawyers who came before her, who fought for and secured women’s right to participate in the legal profession.
We are drawn to social justice work by a fundamental desire to effect change, to challenge hardship and injustice. But if we make immediate, dramatic change our sole metric for success, we risk discouragement and burnout. While the ‘Tom Cruise moment’ ambition can be a powerful initial motivator, it cannot be the yardstick for a fulfilling career in social justice. True success is more often found in the quieter victories: the client who feels heard and understood, who has their story acknowledged and validated. These victories occur in the private sphere of the lives we touch, and it is their perspectives, their lived experiences that should ultimately define our success. Social justice work must always be centered on those we serve, not on the self-aggrandizement of the lawyer.
