Women Criminal Defense Attorneys: Interview with Nanci Clarence
Last week I had the privilege of interviewing Nanci Clarence, who practices in her own San Francisco-based firm, Clarence Dyer & Cohen LLP. She has close to thirty years experience representing individuals and corporations facing criminal investigation or charges. She has been named as one of the “Top 10 Litigators in Northern California” and “Top 75 Litigators in California” and served as the President of the Bar Association of San Francisco. Nanci’s “defender spirit” developed when she served as an assistant federal public defender early on in her career. She then harnessed that passion to create a highly successful private practice. I talk often on this blog about the reality that women are still not involved in white-collar cases in high numbers, but Nanci has broken through that particular glass ceiling. She has been involved in some of this country’s most recognizable white-collar cases. She is in every sense the “Real Deal”, and it was clear from this interview that she puts her heart and soul into defending her clients. I hope you enjoy learning more about Nanci Clarence as much as I did.
What inspired you to become a criminal defense attorney?
To me, peace and quiet is a form of torture. I’ve always liked being in the bustling presence of engaged colleagues and clients, and I especially like bumping up against human flaws and shortcomings. I also have a real problem with bullies. So representing people accused of doing terrible things in a system that is designed to give everyone a fair shake was very appealing to me on a basic level.
When you started out what was the field of criminal defense like for a woman lawyer? How is it different for women today?
When I started out, there were very few women in San Francisco toiling every day in the criminal courts, and only a couple in federal court. Today, there are more of us, but in many ways the challenges are the same. While we’ve proven that we have the skills, smarts and savvy to win cases, we still bump up against barriers in the business world that our male colleagues don’t have to face. Even when we are successful, we are viewed as “exceptional” because we still don’t fit the stereotypical image that people carry around when they picture a defender.
Every day, we step out and prove to our clients, prosecutors, co-counsel and judges that we are effective. But, unfortunately, there is still a tendency -- even for smart and successful lawyers -- to fail to grasp the advantages of having diversity in a legal team. Every day, I still see courtrooms teeming with white male attorneys and not another woman in sight, and I think “whose interest is being served by this status quo?”
Did you have women that helped mentor you or advance your career? How did this impact you?
After spending my early years as an associate at a Big Law firm and then as an Assistant Federal Public Defender, I was fortunate to start my own law firm with dear friends who also turned out to be the best lawyers I know. We had no money, but we had a fortune in enthusiasm, friendship and determination. Our firm grew up in a criminal defense community, in San Francisco, that is like no other in the world. Because the San Francisco legal scene has not been dominated by ex-prosecutors the way it is in so many cities, especially on the east coast, there was room for purely defense-minded people like us to grow and thrive. And, because we are in San Francisco, there were opportunities for women unmatched anywhere else. We owe a tremendous debt to the women who paved the way—Penny Cooper was a trailblazer. And talented and tenacious colleagues like Cris Arguedas and Karen Snell have always been part of the community that enabled us to be successful.
There is something truly special about San Francisco, and there are great men who have made this a unique place to practice for women. Men like Barry Portman, John Keker and Jim Brosnahan gave us wings when they could have been dismissive of our youthful aspirations. Now, as I enter the second half of my career, the younger lawyers challenge me, and keep my practice fresh. I am very grateful to them.
Current research reflects that gender inequality still exists in the legal profession, how do we change this?
There is still discrimination, and that will change because at its core, law is a meritocracy and women are going to continue to succeed in law.
However, other pressures make criminal defense practice a particularly challenging career choice for women. Despite the fact that much ink has been spilled about trying to find work- life balance, I think the realities of high stakes, high demand criminal cases are always going to pose challenges and we have to be ready to meet them. In criminal cases, our clients come to us on the proverbial “worst day” of their lives. Their careers, families and freedom hang in the balance. This is the kind of practice that often requires us to put our personal needs aside -- sometimes on a moment’s notice --and that demand is not likely to subside.
Is there any unique aspect about being a woman that you think either helps or hinders you as a criminal defense attorney?
Though of course it varies widely from individual to individual, I think as a group women tend to be both resourceful and flexible—these are necessary qualities in a successful criminal defense lawyer. Because many women have had to marshal our skills to overcome professional obstacles, we know how to dig deep into problems and find creative solutions.
I can think of many courtroom illustrations of this, but I also recall a harrowing incident that drew on all of my own resources. Years ago, I was in Washington D.C. for a hearing in a very high profile case that was drawing front page news coverage every day. I was sitting in my hotel room preparing for court when a chagrined colleague knocked on the door and confessed that he had slipped while walking on K Street and dropped a thumb drive containing highly confidential case documents into a storm water sewer. The sewer! After a quick Google search revealed that the thumb drive was not likely to be washed into the Potomac River anytime soon, I devised a plan. I hopped into a cab and sped to the A&P Market in Georgetown where I bought a kitchen mop, a pair of panty hose, a dustbin and duct tape. (Also, some dark sunglasses and a ski mask). Later that night, we returned to the scene, and managed to hoist the heavy steel-plated sewer lid up and peered down into the muck. Amazingly, we could see the precious thumb drive a mere 7-8 feet below us! Using the components from the A&P, I quickly assembled an improvised sewer extraction device by attaching the dustbin to the mop with the duct tape and maintaining tension with the stretched (ever resilient) panty hose. While my (increasingly hopeful) colleague shined a flashlight into the sewer and protected me from oncoming traffic, I laid belly-down on the street and slowly-but-surely coaxed the thumb drive into the dustbin, and on up the side of the sewer and into our eager hands. Disaster averted!
What is the best advice you ever received?
The best advice I ever received was to practice with lawyers I respect and love. This advice has carried me through the difficult times and given me a huge sense of satisfaction that comes from knowing that I’ve worked with the most talented lawyers in a generation.
If you could give your younger self any advice what would it be?
When I first began working as a federal public defender representing clients charged with heavy cases and facing draconian sentences, I worried about just about everything. Thirty years later, I still do! The best advice I received—really more like learned wisdom—was to recognize that it is fine to worry. In fact, I’m now sure that all my worrying helps me achieve better results. Who wouldn’t want to be defended by a lawyer who has thought about all the things that possibly could go wrong at trial?
The secret is that while it may be that we worry about everything that could possibly go wrong, we also must accept the central truth that we can’t control everything, nor can we have all the answers. The most important thing is that we trust our own process—of which worrying may well be a central tenet—and then have faith that we have reached the best judgment at the end of that process.
Was there a moment when you knew that you had “made it”?
I remember sitting outside a jail cell waiting to see a client and holding my worn out California bar card in my hand. The bar’s paper stock was even crummier than my public defender business card. But sitting there that night, it hit me that with that card, I could get into jails, meet clients at any time of the day or night, and stand up in court and go toe-to-toe with the best lawyers and judges in the country. I could make a living doing what I had dreamed of doing. I also realized that, with that power, came responsibility. It wasn’t a license to make a buck. It wasn’t just a ticket to prestige and privilege, and it wasn’t an excuse to be arrogant. It was a bolt of lightning in my hand. With it, I could make the world a fairer place, a more just place. I remember realizing that night, at that moment, that I had powerful tool at my disposal in a world that needed a lot of fixing.
What part of being a criminal defense attorney most fuels you? Most drains you?
An effective criminal defense lawyer knows that she needs to be wise, not just clever. When we strike this balance, this becomes so much more than a job-- it is the greatest calling in the world.
On the other hand, working in the criminal justice system means struggling against those who lose sight of the need to protect our system, and keep it fair. We have seen a number of high- profile cases in which prosecutors have withheld exculpatory evidence and impeachment material in violation of Brady v. Maryland and Giglio v. United States. We’ve even seen judges look the other way when this happens. This cuts to the heart out of our clients’ right to a fair trial and undermines everyone’s confidence in this system of justice. It drains the life blood out of the most precious part of our democracy.
What is one thing people who know you don't know about you?
I took up surfing at the age of 40 and I’m really bad at it. There is nothing that makes me happier.