Autumn reminds us that every strong tree knows how to give up what no longer serves it.
In my profession too, there are moments when the right thing is precisely not to take a case.
A few months ago an Israeli developer approached me who had raised a group of investors to buy a building plot in Portugal. The venture sounded impressive: 15 luxury housing units in a sought-after tourist area, serious investors who had already transferred advances, and an aggressive timetable for the start of construction.
At the first meeting I explained to him what was required: comprehensive due diligence on the plot, verification of the building rights and planning permits, verification of the ground conditions and infrastructure, a check for attachments and liens, a legal opinion on the seller's status, and a series of other critical checks. This is not only for the developer, it is for the investors who placed their money in his hands.
“Listen,” he said impatiently, “I have investors putting pressure on me to move forward. They've all already signed investment agreements. The seller is a friend of a friend, everything's been checked. I don't need all this bureaucracy. Make me something simple and quick that will allow us to close the deal.”
When I tried to explain that without thorough checks he was exposing his investors to enormous risks - problems in the zoning plan that could stop the project entirely, building restrictions that would reduce the number of units, hidden debts that could swallow the entire investment - he got angry.
“I've been doing this for ten years. I know how to recognize a good deal. Other lawyers I spoke with said it can be done in half the time and at half the cost.”
And then I understood that we had reached the point of falling leaves.
“Look,” I told him, “I understand the pressure. But you have people here who gave you their savings. They trust you to do this right. And if I sign off on a legal outline that skips the most basic checks, I am in effect a partner in their risk. That is simply not something I am willing to do.”
He was convinced that I was too afraid,
that I was making things cumbersome,
that I didn't understand the “dynamics of the real business world.”
He told me his investors were frustrated by the delays, and that they expected him to act quickly.
“Then perhaps you should find a lawyer who is willing to work that way,” I said.
“I can't accompany a project in which I know there are significant holes in the legal checks, especially when it involves investors' money.”
The decision wasn't easy for me. It was a large project, a handsome legal fee, and exposure to investors who could have become future clients. The inner voice whispered, “Maybe you're too much of a perfectionist, let it happen.”
But my experience shouted something else.
He found another lawyer.
Submitted the abbreviated documents.
The investors calmed down when they saw the deal progressing.
Seven months later I got a phone call from one of the investors.
It turned out the plot was subject to planning restrictions that were not discovered in the superficial check; only 8 units could be built instead of 15, and even those at a limited height that made the units less attractive. In addition, an old lien on the plot was found, in favor of a local bank, which demanded immediate repayment. The project's economics collapsed completely.
The investors lost their advances. The developer faced lawsuits.
“Why didn't you tell him it wouldn't work?” the investor asked me in frustration.
“I told him,” I replied quietly. “But he didn't want to hear.”
Like a tree in autumn shedding its yellow leaves to grow stronger toward winter, we too as professionals must know when to let go.
Not out of fear or weakness, but precisely out of strength, the strength to hold to our professional principles even when the client, the market, and economic pressure push in another direction.
The real value a lawyer brings is not only legal technique. It is the courage to say “no” when needed. No to a flawed deal. No to a dangerous outline. And sometimes, no to a client who endangers not only himself, but also the people who trust him.
Since then, I make it clear to clients already in the first conversation: if you have raised investors, your responsibility is doubled. And if I see that you are exposing them to unnecessary risk, I will not be part of it.
This is not about being overly cautious. It is about being responsible.
And sometimes, the best thing a lawyer can do for a client is not to be his lawyer.
What principles are you unwilling to give up in your profession, even when it costs you?
Stories are based on real situations, with identifying details changed. Not legal advice.
Translated from the Hebrew original. עברית