(Originally published at The Legal Intelligencer)
This is the time of year when law firms assess individual contributions and consider who delivered. Who stepped up. Who looks like they are invested for the long term. Whatever the timing is—at the closing of one year or the opening of the new one—this exercise is the same: assessing performance, commitment and career trajectory.
The process feels objective. In practice, though, it is often shaped by assumptions about visibility, availability and presence. And the conversation becomes more complicated.
What often goes unexamined is how caregiving demands and commute expectations affect who can be present in the ways firms tend to reward, long before anyone sits down to review performance.
Lots of legal training still happens through proximity. Listening in. Watching experienced lawyers navigate difficult conversations. Absorbing judgment in real time. Relationships built early tend to compound. They become sounding boards, referral sources, and support systems when the work gets hard.
That reality helps explain why many firms are reaffirming the value of in-office presence. Training, culture, collaboration and client service can all benefit from people being together. These are legitimate goals, and firms are right to take them seriously.
At the same time, there is a category of lawyers for whom the usual assumptions about office presence begin to strain—working parents of young children.
Life with small children is already an advanced course in trade-offs. Lawyers in this stage are rarely uncertain about commitment. They are already making difficult choices every day. Happy hours fall away. Networking breakfasts become harder to attend. Evening panels, weekend events, exercise and sleep are often the first to go. Self-care becomes less of a priority than the needs of young children. This is a temporary chapter, but one that can stretch across several years.
When a long daily commute is layered on top of that reality, the pressure increases. What looks neutral on paper can become the factor that determines whether someone can remain in the profession at all.
This is not just anecdotal. A growing body of research shows that commute length has a measurable effect on mothers’ continued participation in the workforce. As recently reported by The Atlantic, longer commute times significantly reduce the likelihood that mothers remain employed, particularly when children are young. Time, not ambition or capability, becomes the limiting factor.
Within the legal profession, this tension has become harder to ignore. According to reporting by Reuters, many large U.S. law firms have moved from three-day to four-day in-office mandates, citing training, collaboration and client service. At the same time, the American Bar Association reports that most lawyers still have some access to remote or hybrid work, and that women lawyers are more likely to say flexibility improves their ability to manage caregiving responsibilities without sacrificing productivity.
The difficulty is not that firms value presence. It is that these expectations do not affect everyone equally. We can create opportunities for realignment within the profession, so that the structure of work encourages, rather than penalizes, parents.
Over the years, many lawyers have shared how carefully they tiptoe around parental leave. This hesitation is not limited to women. Men describe it too, often with the same unease. The concern is rarely about the written policy. It is about perception.
One male associate I coached planned to take paternity leave and was met with a blunt response from a supervising partner: “Really? Is that what you’re going to do? Isn’t that what your wife’s mother is for?”
Comments like this matter. They signal what is truly valued and who is expected to absorb the cost of caregiving. When men are discouraged from taking leave, the burden defaults back to women. When women take leave, their commitment is quietly questioned. Either way, parenting becomes a professional liability.
Bar associations, consultants, and law firm leaders regularly examine what is often called the leaky pipeline, including the stalled advancement of women at the senior associate and nonequity partner levels. Firms routinely commission retention studies, diversity audits, and exit interviews focused on mid-career attrition among women, while giving far less scrutiny to how firm structures shape who can realistically stay.
These norms shape careers over time. Lawyers who feel penalized for taking parental leave are more likely to disengage, slow their ambitions or leave firm practice altogether. Over years, this affects partnership classes, leadership pipelines and compensation outcomes.
Too many talented lawyers leave not because they want to, but because the structure of firm life made staying unrealistic.
Office mandates are often justified by firms in deference to client expectations. That concern deserves a closer look.
In practice, most clients care far more about seeing that their attorney’s work is done well, is timely, and represents an understanding of their business, rather than where the work was actually performed. Responsiveness, continuity, and judgment consistently rank higher than physical presence. When experienced lawyers leave mid-career, clients lose institutional knowledge and trusted relationships. That cost doesn’t appear in office-attendance metrics, but shows up in client service and client satisfaction.
Career stage matters here too. Early career lawyers benefit enormously from proximity. Mid-career lawyers, particularly those navigating caregiving, face a diverse set of constraints. Treating these stages as interchangeable flattens important distinctions and creates policies that work well for some while quietly pushing others out.
If firms want women with children and men with children to have an equal shot, the path forward is practical rather than aspirational.
Flexibility needs to be normalized rather than exceptional. When only women use it, flexibility becomes a signal. When men are supported in taking parental leave and adjusting schedules, it becomes part of the culture.
Performance evaluation should focus on contribution and results, not proximity alone. Hybrid arrangements can coexist with strong training and mentoring when development is intentional.
Firms can also invest in mentoring and sponsorship systems that do not depend entirely on physical presence. Structured check-ins, thoughtful staffing, and deliberate sponsorship help ensure lawyers remain visible and supported, even when their schedules look different for a season.
Leadership matters greatly. Lawyers tend to model what they see, rather than what the leave policy provides. When senior lawyers model caregiving as a normal part of professional life, others are more likely to stay engaged rather than quietly opting out.
Supporting office culture and supporting caregivers are not competing goals. With thoughtful design, they reinforce each other. The profession is strongest when it makes room for lawyers to stay through every stage of life, not just the easiest ones.
Sometimes the pressure comes not from the work itself, but from how the work is organized. And sometimes it really does come down to the commute.
Dena Lefkowitz is a certified professional coach who helps clients improve networking and marketing skills, make successful career transitions, and develop the skills necessary to lead. Having practiced law for 25 years in private practice and in-house, she understands the challenges new and seasoned lawyers face. Lefkowitz has successfully coached a best-selling author, lawyers, accountants and chief executives. For more information, visit www.achievementbydesign.com.
