“This Is Not Legal Advice"—The World’s Least Impressive Rhetorical Move
By Michael Kelman Portney
You know the drill. You ask a lawyer a simple question like, "Should I contest this parking ticket?" and before you can blink, out comes the almighty incantation: "This is not legal advice." As if you didn’t already suspect that the guy holding a latte and wearing Crocs at 9 a.m. isn’t preparing to defend you in federal court. If you haven’t met this character, perhaps you’ve met its smarmier cousin, “I Am A Lawyer But Not Your Lawyer”.
Let’s face it: this little disclaimer isn’t for you. It’s not about keeping you informed or giving you clarity. No, it’s an ethos-building exercise—an attempt by lawyers to puff up their professional image while simultaneously shielding themselves from the imaginary hordes of clients waiting to sue them for free advice gone wrong. They wield it like a sword and shield: "Look how responsible and professional I am! But also, don’t blame me if you screw this up.”
And sure, I get it. Liability is a thing. Lawyers live in constant fear that someone will twist their casual coffee-break comment into a binding contract. But can we be honest? Ninety percent of the time, this disclaimer isn’t necessary. I wasn’t planning to hire you based on your offhand opinion about my neighbor’s fence dispute. I just wanted a straightforward answer to a straightforward question.
It’s not just the disclaimer, though. It’s the delivery. They say it with such gravitas, as though uttering these words places them on some elevated plane of legal omniscience. "This is not legal advice," they proclaim, peering over their imaginary courtroom bifocals. Oh, thank you, Your Honor. I was really concerned that your random observation about property taxes might constitute binding counsel.
Here’s the kicker: it’s not even impressive. When a doctor gives you casual medical advice, they don’t say, "This is not medical treatment." When your plumber tells you to jiggle the handle, they don’t follow it up with, "This is not a professional repair recommendation." Other professionals somehow manage to navigate the murky waters of casual conversation without all this rhetorical foreplay. So why can’t lawyers?
Here’s my humble suggestion: lawyers, unless the stakes are really high, maybe cool it with the disclaimers. If you’re talking to a client about something serious, fine—do your thing. But if we’re discussing whether it’s worth disputing a $30 ticket, maybe assume I won’t file a malpractice suit over your opinion.
Because honestly, this whole routine feels more like a nervous tic than a necessity. And if you think about it, isn’t it just a tiny bit self-defeating? Lawyers are supposed to be masters of persuasion, wielding rhetoric like a scalpel. But this little disclaimer habit screams, "I’m terrified of accountability!" Hardly inspiring stuff.
So next time a lawyer opens with, "This is not legal advice," do us all a favor and remind them: you’re not paying them, you’re not suing them, and you’re definitely not impressed.
This blog is not professional advice. Please don’t base your worldview—or your parking ticket strategy—on it.