The first three articles in this series looked at what happens once a successful legal career is ending or has already ended: reconsidering identity, naming the skills that transfer beyond legal practice, and (re)building a network on personal rather than firm-bound terms. This final article asks a different question: what could we do – almost in passing – years before any of that becomes necessary?
Experienced lawyers are usually extraordinarily well prepared for (almost) every eventuality in their profession: new sets of facts, stubborn opponents, collapsing negotiations, crises just before a deadline, and much more. Yet reflecting on themselves and on uncomfortable personal situations is pushed aside again and again – work comes first. The transition that will eventually follow the “end of the career” is rarely treated with the same care as any other major professional decision, even though it deserves exactly that.
Why “later” often comes too late
After 20 to 30 years or more as a lawyer, you have learned to stay in control: of your matters, your team, yourself in your role, and well beyond. So, consciously or not, you also assume a certain control over how your professional life will end. In practice, however, that ending is rarely in your own hands. De-equitization, a merger, a change in strategy, mandatory retirement provisions, a health event or something else entirely can bring the expected timeline forward without much warning.
Those least shaken by this unpredictability are the ones who, often almost incidentally, had already done some of the identity, skills and relationship work this series has described, long before there was a concrete reason to.
What can start before anyone notices
This is work that can happen quietly, without fuss, without much time and alongside everyday professional life.
- Identity: Realizing for yourself which parts of your professional self endure without the title – sound judgment, calm under pressure, the ability to make complicated situations simple, or dealing with personalities of every kind. All of this belongs to the person, not the the letterhead. Recognizing that for yourself takes much of the force out of the worry about what comes next.
- Skills: Looking for small, low-risk experiments in which you use a skill outside its usual context – simply for the fun of it. For example, informal mentoring outside the firm, serving on a committee, or advising a company out of personal connection rather than as a client matter. All of this already tests, in miniature, whether a skill travels beyond the firm – and whether it is a pleasure to use.
- Network: Staying in touch with people because the relationship is worth keeping, not because a matter requires it. Such relationships are far easier to maintain with an occasional message than to rebuild from nothing later, when they could open up new perspectives.
- Finances: Understanding honestly – and not just through a vague sense of security or insecurity – what the end of a career means financially, what role earning money should or must still play later on, and how that changes the range of options available. Anyone who has never done this arithmetic may feel unsettled even without financial need, and tends to default to whatever looks safest, whether or not it is the most fulfilling choice.
- The honest conversation: At some point, well before it becomes urgent, talking with a trusted person or with professional support about what the end of a career means and how to shape what comes next. Such a conversation is far easier to have without immediate pressure than in the middle of a departure process. It is a professional approach, of the kind practiced for years at work – not a sign of weakness.
Preparation as a habit, not a project
Nichts davon muss nach einem festen Zeitplan oder als einzelnes, bewusstes Projekt geschehen. Es ähnelt eher einer Gewohnheit fortlaufender, ehrlicher Aufmerksamkeit: regelmäßig bemerken, was auch ohne den Job Bestand hätte, was einem wichtig ist und was nicht – und warum.
It’s worth asking the following questions on an ongoing basis and in various contexts, long before the end of one’s career is imminent:
- If my role were to end earlier than planned, what would I wish I had already started?
- Which specific aspect of my identity, my skills, or my network have I neglected for years, simply because there was no immediate reason to address it?
- Do I actually know what ending my career would entail financially, or do I just have a general sense of security or insecurity?
- With whom would I have an honest conversation about what “life after” means, and when was the last time I had that conversation?
- How do I envision my life and myself as a person in old age? How do I want to come across to others? How do I want to feel, and what do I want to look back on with pride—including the time after my traditional career?
There’s no perfect time to ask these and similar questions, and you don’t have to answer them all at once. When asked patiently and revisited time and again, they do their own quiet work: Long before a transition takes place, they’re already shaping someone who’s prepared for it—not because every detail has been planned, but because identity, skills, relationships, and openness to new experiences have had years to take root. This makes the next chapter seem less like an ending and more like a beginning that started long ago.
