“If somebody has to go to jail, make sure it is your client.” This adage came from a professor during my first year in law school. Sage advice for young lawyers, indicating that lawyers are responsible for giving advice, but clients are responsible for making decisions and bearing the consequences. In hindsight, given my experience with the criminal justice system, I screwed up this advice pretty badly.
My heroes were always lawyers who “graduated” to become something more than mere advisors. Businessmen, financiers, politicians, CEOs, scholars. These were the roles I aspired to attain. I knew I wanted to be a lawyer from a young age, and as my dad always said, I was the son, grandson, great grandson and nephew of lawyers. While my destiny was preordained to be a lawyer, I always aspired to be something more.
Throughout my career, I was fortunate to have capable mentors. At Jones Day, a powerhouse global law firm, I learned to sweat the details. No detail was too small, and we could bill unlimited hours. I was required to log annually at least 2,000 billable hours, the longer the better, and we were paid to get things perfect. Anything less was not the Jones Day way.
During the summer between my first and second years of law school, I was exposed to in-house law practice. I secured a prestigious clerkship in the law department of Ernst & Young, one of the “big four” international public accounting firms. The department was led by a titan in the field of in-house general counsel, Carl D. Liggio, Sr.
Liggio pioneered the concept of managing in-house lawyers like a full-service law firm. This “in-sourcing” strategy relied on skilled in-house counsel providing the same high-quality services as outside law firms, only on a more cost-effective basis. Equally important, these in-house lawyers would become experts in the business needs as well as the law itself.
For more than a decade, Liggio’s vision became the guiding principle for full service in-house law departments, and he pioneered the professionalism of our niche industry, founding the first-ever bar association specifically for in-house counsel. During my career as in-house general counsel, Liggio became my hero (along with legendary GE general counsel, Benjamin Heineman; more on him in a future post).
One of the many ironies resulting from my experience at WellCare was my re-connection with Carl Liggio. My legal team needed an expert to review my conduct as WellCare’s in-house GC and give an opinion whether my decisions were reasonable. Liggio was a natural choice for this assignment, and I remember being nervous when my lawyers explained they had hired him. To my surpise and delight, Liggio remembered me right away, even producing legal memos I had written 20 years earlier during my summer as an E&Y law clerk.
Although he was long retired from active practice, Carl remained visible and prolific in legal and judicial circles. Above and beyond his role as expert witness, he went out of his way to be kind and supportive. On the few occasions we met in person, he would reassure me, “Thad, I have reviewed everything. You did all you could. It was by the book.” I was looking forward to the day when this titan would testify at my trial, a star witness in our defense. But due to my eventual guilty plea, that day never came. The reassurance and comfort I received from Carl remained a private affair.
Shortly after receiving a full and unconditional presidential pardon, I learned that Carl Liggio died on January 17, 2021, succumbing to COVID-related pneumonia. Beyond losing an icon and friend, I was sad that Liggio would never learn the news of my good fortune. He would have been happy for me, and I would relish the validation of my old mentor. “I told you my analysis was correct,” I imagine him saying with his twinkle smile. Unlike many others, Carl Liggio never lost faith in me.
Rest in peace, Carl. I am grateful to have learned from you.
