As a former associate, I witnessed the firm's casual and dismissive attitude toward racial inequality in a series of consistently cringeworthy and tone-deaf comments from partners. I fear my BIPOC colleagues have experienced much worse.
Each month, the associates and partners of Dechert’s Finance & Real Estate (FRE) group meet to discuss recently-closed deals, legal and regulatory developments, billable hours progress and LIBOR purgatory. And each month, the chair of Dechert’s FRE practice, Rick Jones, introduces new hires and thanks them for “having names that are easy to pronounce.” Jones, who fancies himself something of a comedian, finds this “joke” so hilarious that he thinks it bears repeating month after month. (For their part, associates do respond appropriately – with stunned and awkward silence – so it’s unclear why he believes this is such a crowd-pleaser.)
Is it possible that Jones fails to recognize both the inherent privilege in each of his monosyllabic, Anglo-Saxon names and that he is perpetuating that privilege by explicitly announcing his preference for names that share a similar “white-bread” quality?
Perhaps this is what passes for observational comedy at a law firm that struggles to attract and retain diverse talent. Perhaps it is a self-deprecating, implicit acknowledgment that the lack of diversity and inclusion at Dechert is, if not openly encouraged, then consciously tolerated. How else can we explain the fact that FRE partners who have mastered the complexities of every species of securitization are still unable to pronounce the (five-letter, two-syllable) name of a BIPOC associate after working with her for nearly a decade?
The answer may be more sinister than a few offhand remarks from out-of-touch, white men would initially seem. Consider that when an associate is promoted to partnership, he – 80% of Dechert partners are men – simultaneously graduates from a manufacturing position to sales. The partnership’s collective failure to invest even the slightest effort to become proficient in the language and principles of inclusion is not born of indifference to the firm’s culture; it IS the firm’s culture. In building summer classes and hiring lateral associates, law firms are packaging a product they can sell. The end result speaks to the type of client they hope to attract.
When people in positions of power refuse to confront their complicity in a racist system and thus come to believe that the status quo they helped create is, in fact, inevitable, their complacency opens the door to displays of overt racism. In a training for junior associates, for example, FRE partner Dave Forti explained that, from his perspective, the best part of this work was “the people”. While propounding the personal and professional benefits that can emanate from successful relationship-building, Forti fondly recollected laughing with his clients about “those crazy, Korean mezz lenders.” In case you missed the coded message here, it’s this: “It’s not worth my time to learn how to treat people who are different from me with respect because those people will never make me any money.” The best part of this work, then, is not simply “the people”, but the “right” people.
These microaggressions may very well be the tip of the iceberg at Dechert. More severe and targeted incidents are likely to go unreported because of the firm's lack of diversity. Black attorneys, in particular – who represent less than 4% of attorneys firmwide according to recent NALP figures – can be reluctant to report instances of racism because their ranks are so small that they are almost certain to be outed if they come forward.
How could I in good conscience recommend Dechert to a BIPOC colleague in the job market? Or to a white colleague with a functioning moral compass? At any rate, I certainly cannot recommend Dechert to mezzanine lenders in Korea.
