After a seven-year hiatus, I’m thrilled to return as a columnist for Above the Law, covering the solo/small firm beat.  So much has changed in the years since I last wrote here. In addition to the celebrity status that I’ve garnered since this column catapulted me to a guest appearance on the Daily Show, the legal profession itself has experienced its own glow-up.  The pandemic made remote practice mainstream, artificial intelligence is reshaping everything from research to drafting, and younger lawyers are demanding more humane work environments. But one concept remains constant: starting a law firm is a radical act. Here’s why.

As the daughter of a chemist, I’ve always been intrigued by free radicals. These molecules, with their unpaired electrons, disrupt equilibrium. Free radicals’ instability can cause damage linked to a wide range of diseases, but it can also be harnessed to boost immunity and generate energy.

Lawyers who strike out on their own function in much the same way. By leaving the safety of a paycheck or the legitimacy of a firm name, they destabilize the profession’s status quo. They create new client relationships, develop new practice models, and expand meaningful access to justice. Their instability is also their power.

For decades, solos and small-firm lawyers have been treated as afterthoughts — lawyers who couldn’t make it elsewhere. Biglaw was cast as the center of prestige and talent; solos as routine and unremarkable. But choosing ownership is not a fallback, it is always a choice (hence the title of my book, Solo by Choice).  Launching a law firm is a lawyer’s way of saying: I will not tolerate inequitable hiring, rigid hierarchies, toxic firm culture, or ceding my talent to causes I cannot abide.  It’s claiming space in a profession that doesn’t always want to make room.

In science, free radicals are powerful because of their instability. That’s what drives their reactivity. In law, instability pushes lawyers to start firms: losing a job, clashing with firm culture, or refusing to tolerate low pay and long hours. That “unpaired state” generates the energy to try something different.  And what looks like weakness — being cut loose, being tired of the grind — is actually the spark that powers new models, new niches, new precedents and new ways of practicing.

Like their chemical counterparts, lawyer-founders face resistance. Institutions brand them reckless or unprepared. But that pushback only underscores how destabilizing — and therefore how radical — ownership really is. By choosing independence, solos upend hierarchies that deserve to be unsettled and renew and diversify the profession by creating alternative paths. 

In every sense, law firm ownership is a radical act.  And one I’ll never tire of covering — both at my home blog, MyShingle.com and once again, here.

Carolyn Elefant is one of the country’s most recognized advocates for solo and small firm lawyers. She founded MyShingle.com in 2002, the longest-running blog for solo practitioners, where she has published thousands of articles, resources, and guides on starting, running, and growing independent law practices. She is the author of Solo by Choice, widely regarded as the definitive handbook for launching and sustaining a law practice, and has spoken at countless bar events and legal conferences on technology, innovation, and regulatory reform that impacts solos and smalls. Elefant also develops practical tools like the AI Teach-In to help small firms adopt AI and she consistently champions reforms to level the playing field for independent lawyers. Alongside this work, she runs the Law Offices of Carolyn Elefant, a national energy and regulatory practice that handles selective complex, high-stakes matters.

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