This summer, I had coffee with a partner from the London office of a large
American law firm. He was feeling upbeat. Terra Firma had instructed Weil,
Gotshal & Manges on its ultimately unsuccessful £11 billion bid for
Alliance Boots, the first time a US law firm had taken a lead role in a bid
for a FTSE100 company. The buyout house had again turned to Weil for its
takeover of EMI, the music publisher. And Barclays had appointed Sullivan &
Cromwell, the prestigious New York-based firm, as co-lead on its (also
ultimately unsuccessful) £80 billion bid for Dutch bank ABN Amro.
This was a clear sign, the lawyer enthused, that the grip of the traditional
English law firms on the European takeover scene was slipping. That the US
firms' strategy of luring highly-paid dealmakers from their English rivals,
added to the growing influence of American investment banks and the adoption
of American-style takeover tactics in Europe, was finally shifting the
balance of power.
Not long after, I had lunch with a partner at a leading UK firm. He dismissed
his counterpart's ebullience. "They take a small involvement from the
American angle to make it look like they're running every major deal in
Europe and I absolutely don't buy it," he said.
"There's this myth that we do the UK-focused stuff and they do all the
big cross-border stuff, and it's just bulls**t. Do I think they'll continue
to develop? Yes. It would be naive to think not. But we're not at a tipping
point."
Mike Francies, Weil's London managing partner, has been one of the principal
actors in this trans-Atlantic power struggle.
It is almost ten years since Francies surprised the City by leaving Clifford
Chance, where he was one of the best-known corporate finance partners. It
was a courageous move. So-called "lateral hires" have become
common in the past few years but Francies was one of the first; he is still
arguably the most high-profile defector.
A big man with a quiet, sandpapery voice, Francies is circumspect when asked
if the Americans are close to challenging the dominance of the top English
firms. "I think it is a long way off," he says.
The "magic circle" has proven difficult to dislodge — as has the
perception of US firms' London offices as outposts that exist only to
provide advice to American clients when they venture into Europe.
Francies: "I'm always surprised but we still come across clients who say,
'Oh, you do UK law, do you?'"
He didn't think the top end of the market would be as difficult to crack as it
has been. "Yeah, [it has been] definitely harder [than I expected]. As
a younger lawyer you tend to have a bigger ego and think that more is down
to you and not to the firm. When you leave — and I'm sure most 'magic
circle' lawyers who have left have found the same — you suddenly find out
just how much more powerful the brand was than you individually."
That is not to say Francies regrets joining Weil. ("I have to say that
now, don't I?" he laughs.) With just over 100 lawyers and a turnover of
£55 million, the London office is smaller than that of other US firms and
represents only a fraction of their 1,200 lawyers globally, but it punches
above its weight.
As of the third-quarter of 2007, according to Thomson Financial, Francies and
his team had advised on more than $63 billion worth of announced deals. In
fact, things have been going well enough that Weil top a different kind of
league table: this year they will pay their newly qualified solicitors a
staggering £90,000, more than any other firm in the City.
"We've had a very, very busy year," Francies says, adding: "Being
blunt, every good, big law firm should be having a great year. There's been
so many transactions."
Even the sluggishness in the private equity market brought about by the "credit
crunch" has failed to dent his outlook.
"It's going to become more of a buyers' market," he predicts. "Those
days when you pick up the paper and the new record deal is reported are
gone. Those big deals will be much harder to do, harder to finance; people
will have to put in more equity.
"[But] we're not going to have to shut up shop.
"The key for us is to remain very nimble, see how the market's moving and
move with it. We're fortunate that we're small enough and quick enough to be
able to do that. With 100-odd lawyers your clients only need to do five
deals and that keeps a lot of people busy. If you've got 2,000 lawyers
that's a lot more mouths to feed."
Francies says that the intimacy and autonomy of working in a smaller office
was one of the reasons he left the world's biggest law firm, along with the
challenge of starting something new.
But beyond that, he doesn't want to reminisce about his departure.
"It's so long ago," he says. "I never know when people ask me
is that just what I happen to think now? In a sense, it was irresistible.
Maybe it was an ego thing, I don't know."
In fact, Francies doesn't seem to enjoy talking about himself generally. He
tells me he was born in Israel to English parents, both civil servants, but
grew up in north London. He supports Watford, the Championship football
club, and the last book he read was The Damned United, a novel about
Leeds United. ("I thought it was OK.") He studied law at
Manchester University and graduated in 1978.
But when I ask him why he became a lawyer, he can't recall.
"I've no idea, really. It's something I wish I had a great answer to. I
just wanted to be a lawyer for as long as I can remember."
What does he enjoy about the job? A similarly vague response.
"I don't have a good answer for that. Unfortunately, I'm really boring. I
just like it."
Has he ever thought about doing anything else?
"When I was a younger lawyer, I used to do a lot of listings. At times I
thought, 'God, these guys are my age and they're making millions. Why am I
doing this?'
"But I think you've got to stick to what you know and what you're good
at. Different people like doing different things. I happen to enjoy doing
this."
Fair enough. So what are his plans for the future?
Francies says he has no fixed targets other than to achieve "steady growth"
in the London office.
The biggest obstacle to that, he says, is recruiting and retaining talented
younger lawyers — a headache common to managing partners.
"Lawyers [now] just don't want to be partners and spend their lives doing
that," he says. "They're happy doing it for a few years but then
they want to move on and do other things with their lives.
"Any law firm who says they're not looking very closely at how they
retain people is either dumb or not speaking the truth."
He's my dad. I love him. He works harder than most, and harder than he should be allowed and somehow still manages to find time for his family. He's great man, a great lawyer and a great role model.
Tom Francies, London,
hannah, hes not going to give you a job.....
bob, london,
When asked in application forms as to why I want to be a lawyer my mind goes blank. Drawing from the article, it just goes to show, if you enjoy it and are great at it, what further reasoning is required? The sincerity of Francies is rare to come across from elite lawyers these days.
Hannah H, Oadby, UK