United States Attorney for the District of New Jersey

Transcription

Dean Minow, distinguished faculty, proud parents, family, friends, and members of the Harvard Law School Class of 2014, congratulations to you. You have so much to be proud of, and so very much to be grateful for. I want to congratulate by name the four most awesome members of the class of 2014, because they used to work for me-- Edeli Rivera, Kyle Wirshba, Heather Alpino, and Claire Guehenno. Congratulations. This is a proud day for everyone who is here-- but for the parents, I think, especially. And not just for the graduates' parents, it turns out that my own parents are here. My mom and dad are seated in the third row. You can clap for my parents. So a few months ago, my dad calls me when he sees the announcement that Harvard Law School put out about the program. And he tells me that he and Mom were going to come up for it. And I say to him, "Dad, look, I'm really touched. But you don't have to drive all the way up from New Jersey. You just had knee surgery--it's a long haul. It's fine, Dad. Again, I'm touched, but don't worry about it." My dad gets all serious and he says to me, "Preet. How could I not come and miss a once in a lifetime chance-- once in a lifetime chance to see the Mindy Kaling?" [LAUGHTER] Look, that's fine. Mindy's parents are here to see me. So yes, we've got two Indian Americans today for the price of one. Apparently, it's India Day at Harvard Law School. I hope that you enjoy the Lamb Vindaloo and the Chicken Tikka Masala that will be served after. Not to belabor the point, but I am curious about how the decision making process worked. Like, how did that meeting go exactly? I imagine these guys, your class marshals, were sitting around and someone says, "we got the US Attorney, Preet Bharara, is coming, and then another class marshals said, "what, you know-- I was just thinking, as long as we're going Indian, maybe we should have a funny Indian? You know." Again, don't get me wrong, I love the Mindy Kaling, but I can't help but get the feeling that Harvard was a little concerned, asking themselves, "can Bharara really carry the whole program?" And obviously, it determined, no. So, you know, I'm a little hurt, because I did some research, and I understand that two years ago, you asked Attorney General Eric Holder to be your class day speaker. Apparently you did not feel the need to also invite Chris Rock. And last year-- and last year, you had Jeffrey Toobin, and you did not hedge your bets with Jerry Seinfeld. So I'm just, I'm just saying-- but it's OK, I will do my best. I'll do the best that I can. It really is, though, an honor to be here. I have had an unexpectedly productive trip so far. I arrived last evening, stopped by the Business School, dropped off a couple of subpoenas, arrested three guys for insider trading, and finished off the evening sipping a scorpion bowl, at the Kong. By the way, I hope you've gotten to know your Business School colleagues, because they-- they are your future clients. So anyway, I'm sitting at the Hong Kong restaurant, which I will note, has changed, like not at all in the 24 years since I used to be a regular patron when I was in the college. And so I'm sipping the scorpion bowl through that ridiculous kiddie straw that they give you, and reviewing my prepared text for today, which was replete with lofty quotations from Oliver Wendell Holmes and Felix Frankfurter and, of course, one Mr. Langdell. And then I had what people call a moment of clarity. That will happen to you when you drink a scorpion bowl. And the moment of clarity was this, you don't really want or need me to read and quote from legal scripture. Not on Class Day, at least, and especially when you haven't even given us caps and gowns. So instead, what I thought I would do, is rather than speak esoterically about the law, I would speak more pragmatically about how to be successful and happy in law practice. Now that is not so easy as it sounds-- to be both successful and happy as a lawyer. You may be asking yourself, what should I be focused on my first job? Pleasing the partner? Should I be networking? Getting clients? Setting myself up for the next job? A simple and excellent answer is actually provided by a scene from one of the greatest Martin Scorsese movies made-- it's called The Departed. If you haven't seen it, you should see it. It's set around here in the Boston area, and it's loosely based on notorious mobster Whitey Bulger. So you can see why I might like this film. Mark Wahlberg is in the movie, and he plays a cop. And there's a scene where a law enforcement officer-- operation goes south, and Wahlberg's character is upset and he starts asking questions. And somebody says to Wahlberg, who the "F" are you? And Wahlberg says, "I'm the guy who does his job, you must be the other guy." And I submit that there is more wise career counsel in that short scene, that in many volumes that you might read. Because that is where your focus should always be-- being the guy who does his job-- whether you're an associate, a law clerk, an assistant DA, a public defender or anything else. Nothing else matters, but doing your job and doing it well every day, even when it's hard, even when it's tedious, even when it's dull, even when the work seems small and beneath your brand name schooling and god-given talent. It means being the guy who does his job even when no one is looking and no one will know the good ideas came from you. If you do that, not only the next job but your entire career will take care of itself. Trust me on that. Let me put it a different way, almost exactly four years ago today, Philadelphia Phillies pitcher, Roy Halladay, achieved one of the most rare and difficult things in all of sports. He pitched a perfect game. Nine innings, no hits, no walks, 27 up, 27 down. He was perfect. And he is in the history books because of it. Then, four months later, on October 6th of that year, in the very same season, Halladay threw a no-hitter-- not quite perfect, but pretty darn close. He did it, by the way, in a playoff game. In all of baseball history, only two people have ever thrown a no-hitter in the post season. Just two. The Phillies pitching coach was asked by a reporter what advice he had given his Ace. And the coach said that he'd given Roy Halladay a simple instruction. He said "go out there and try to be good. If you just go out there and try to be good, you've got a chance to be great." And that is literally the best advice I have ever heard. It has stayed with me, and I hope it stays with you. I think there is a tendency for people like you who are so successful and so accomplished and so credentialed, to think every endeavor is like a baseball game in which you're going to go out and pitch a perfect game. But it doesn't work that way. You should have high aspirations. You should want to be monumentally successful. But you've got to do it one pitch at a time. It sounds cliche, but you've got to do it one pitch at a time. Pitch, after pitch, after pitch-- that's what develops into a perfect game, or by analogy, an outstanding career. And by the way, no one who ever pitched a perfect game in baseball went to the mound that day expecting to do so. Because not only is that unrealistic, it is the height of arrogance. And yet I see people all the time make that very mistake. They want to be great before they've learned how to be good. They want to be on the big matter, before they've handled a small one. They want to try a case before they've argued a motion. They want to be generals before they have been good soldiers. But first, I submit, you have to learn some craft-- actually learn how to practice law in whatever area you first pick. Craft and competence will always matter more than connections. But in a lot of places, people often behave in a way that suggests the reverse is true. So learn some craft. You'll stumble. It won't always go great. It didn't for me. I remember the first major deposition I ever took, I couldn't figure out how to ask a proper question. It got so bad, that the adversary asked for a break and then apologized to the court reporter. And I didn't understand what he was apologizing about. And I realized he was apologizing for me. So that kind of hurt a little bit. I never forgot that. But I got better. And you will, too. And once you have learned your craft, and learned it well, you will be in good stead always. And I guarantee, you will be swimming in opportunities. Let's talk about humility for a moment. Humility, I think, is underrepresented and undervalued in law practice, which is too bad. So why is humility important? Mostly, so you don't become unbearable. And also, because it will keep you open-minded and striving to always do better. So find someone in your life who will help keep you humble. Luckily, I have an abundance of those people in my own life-- my daughter, for example. A quick true story, she is now 13, but three years ago, we had just won a big white collar case and there was a nice profile about her dad in the New York Times, and I thought, "I should have my daughter read this so she can be proud of Dad." So she begrudgingly read the article and at the end, I recall, that it ends with a quote for me that's very sort of finger-waggy and chest-thumpy about how we're not going to stop fighting against Wall Street crime. So my daughter finishes reading the article, looks up, and I'm waiting to see what my daughter's going to say, and how proud she is of her father. And she said, rolling her eyes slightly, and this is a direct quote-- "Daddy, why are you such a drama queen?" So be sure you have people like that in your life. If you don't, my daughter is available. A part of humility, by the way, is becoming comfortable with self-doubt. It took me awhile to appreciate this. You'd think when I became the US Attorney for the Southern District of New York, a storied institutions in 1789, that I said to myself, "well it's about time. Finally, I can fix 220 years of inferior leadership." No, not quite. Here's how I did feel-- I felt nervous, and afraid, and unworthy. I was terrified that I might not live up to the tradition of that great place, that I might not ultimately measure up to the job, that I would be a disappointment to the people who had supported me. There's 100 years of US Attorneys portraits on the hallway wall leading up to my office. And I walk by them every day, and they appear to be telling me every morning, "don't screw it up, kid." And so even now, after almost five years that have gone pretty well, I get nervous and afraid still. And if I ever lose that feeling, I think that's the day that I should step down. Don't get me wrong. I do have self-confidence also. But at the same time, and on a fairly frequent basis, roaring self-doubt. But you'll find that self-doubt in moderation is animating and motivating, not paralyzing. In my view, leaders who have purged themselves of all self-doubt will not be leaders for long, and in my view, are dangerous while in command. I've learned over time that self-doubt is my friend and arrogance my enemy. Now let's talk about something that will bring you down from time to time. It's called criticism. So brace yourself, because you will receive it-- especially if you rise high, or take a stand on something. And it will hurt. It will even sting. Now there are some people in the world who are not bothered by criticism, for whom everything just rolls right off their back. Those are Type B people. But criticism will bother you a lot because you are Type A people. And I know what you guys are like, because I'm a little bit that way myself. You are the kind of people who are super competitive, even when playing board games with children. By the way, there's nothing wrong with that. A kid's gotta learn. The key, I think, to learn, is to learn which criticism to take to heart to make yourself better and to improve, and which criticism to laugh off, which criticism is well placed, and which is foolish. Trust me, I've gotten to know a lot about criticism in this job. Sometimes, just doing your job and doing the right thing will provoke criticism. I've been criticized from the left. I've been criticized from the right. I've been criticized by various governments. I've been banned from Russia. That's true. Sometimes, criticism is valid and you have to take it seriously and be smart about it. The point is, don't be dismissive about criticism, but be discerning about it. Here's another quick story. So you may have heard, some of you, about a case we brought last year in which the State Department arrested a mid-level Indian diplomat female, Devyani Khobragade, for visa fraud in connection with lies about she would ultimately pay her domestic worker. Not the crime of the century, but a serious crime nonetheless. That's why the State Department opened the case. That's why the State Department investigated it. That's why the career agents in the State Department asked career prosecutors in my office to approve criminal charges. So that case basically caused an international incident. Now putting aside disputes about the merits of the case, somehow the Indian government and the Indian press decided that the case was brought by me, an Indian-American, for all manner of bad personal reasons. Never mind that the case was initiated and investigated by career law enforcement officials, and that I became personally aware of it only a day or two before the arrest had been scheduled. Talk show host in India took to calling me a self-loathing Indian, who made it a point to go after people from the country of his birth. Which was a bit odd, since the alleged victim was also Indian. An Indian official basically asked on television, who the hell is Preet Bharara? And the criticism got increasingly intense over time-- which might not have bothered me so much, except that it bothered my parents, who came from India to this country as adults. And that was tough, because it bothered them. And then it bothered me again when I had to explain to my daughter, who overheard a conversation in the house, of what it meant to be called an Uncle Tom-- because that's what I was being called by journalists in South Asia. So that was not so pleasant. And I will admit that I was upset, as I think the normal human being might be. But then as the accusations got more and more absurd, they became downright comical, and I got some of my perspective back. After all, Indian critics were angry because even though I hail from India, I appear to be going out of my way to act American and serve the interests of America, which was also kind of odd because I am American, and the words United States are actually in my title. And then I saw this line of attack in the foreign press, and in Syria's press, it was written that Bharara had undertaken this case to quote, "serve his white masters," presumably Eric Holder and Barack Obama. So you get my point. So that is an example of criticism that is stupid. And I realized, by the way, that I had a ready response to the Indian official who asked, who the hell is Preet Bharara? And it's this-- "I'm the guy who does his job. You must be the other guy." A couple of final general points. Work for good people. Don't work for jerks, no matter how smart and talented you think they are. And don't be a jerk yourself. Also, while you're making your career happen, you're allowed to have fun, even if the job at hand is deadly serious. We have fun at the US Attorney's Office, because we never take ourselves too seriously. I think that's important. Humorlessness correlates directly with pomposity, and I believe, also with failure. So now I realize that a lot of this advice seems not unique to the practice of law. Well there's a reason for that. The practice of law is a lot like any other endeavor in life. It can be messy, and difficult, and stressful, but the most important advice is the same. Do your job and be humble. Work for good people and be good to those who work for you. Accept criticism, unless it's foolish. Have fun and embrace humor. Like other endeavors, the practice of law is about each pitch-- about going out there and trying to be good every day instead of trying to pitch a perfect game on your first try. But I do want to conclude with a thought that is particular to the practice of law, especially for a Harvard Law School graduate. And it's this-- the degree you're receiving is a precious and powerful gift. Yes, I know you have worked very hard, but it is a gift nonetheless. So don't squander it. There are people who would give a limb for the gift that you are getting this week. And you should be exceptionally proud of the career that you have chosen. Now, I know that not everyone loves lawyers, and I know that we lawyers are, as a group, much maligned. But I continue to believe in the quaint and uncommon view, that to become a lawyer is to join a noble profession. I continue to believe also, that there is no one better situated to prevent cruelty, promote equality, and preserve liberty, than the person who has genuinely dedicated himself or herself to becoming both a master and a servant of the law. The potential power of a law degree is, I believe, unmatched in American society. No one is better situated to stand up for an ideal, or expose corruption, or champion underdogs, or defend unalienable rights. I think it is not an overstatement to suggest that the power of your degree gives you a degree of power that few possess, fewer know how to use, and fewer still know how to put to good purpose. People spend their entire lives waiting for the chance to do something meaningful-- to make a difference in the world. For so many people, too many people, that moment never comes. But you, simply by virtue of your new law degree, from Harvard no less, will have that opportunity every single day. And I hope and pray that you will seize it. The world needs you to seize it. Now, I was trying to make it through this speech without quoting anyone more distinguished than Mark Wahlberg, but I saw-- and maybe some of you have not seen the sad news this morning-- that beloved American author and poet, Maya Angelou, had passed away. And though she is gone, her words will always be with us. And among the very many beautiful words she has strung together where these-- "I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back." So please, go out there and just try to be good. Do it one pitch at a time. And don't forget to throw something back. The world is waiting for all of you. Good luck.