Jason stayed at the head of the table. Hal immediately shifted, as if he had been physically restraining himself around outsiders. Renee gathered her papers into a tidy stack. Ellen leaned back slightly, with relaxed arms and alert eyes.
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Hal exhaled sharply. “This is exactly what I worried about,” he said. “We’ve taken a normal phase of this profession and turned it into a problem to be solved.”
Renee looked up. “No one said it was a problem. They said it’s changed.”
Hal shook his head. “It hasn’t changed. The people have.”
Jason didn’t interrupt.
“The mid-level years have always been the proving ground,” Hal continued. “That’s where you find out who’s truly built for this place.”
Ellen spoke calmly. “Or where you lose people you didn’t mean to lose.”
Hal waved a dismissive hand. “If they leave, it tells you something.”
Renee met his gaze. “About them or us?”
Hal leaned forward now, resting his elbows on the table.
“About fit,” he said. “MSL isn’t for everyone. It never has been, and it shouldn’t be.”
Jason watched the exchange carefully.
“The mid-level stage is tough,” Hal continued. “It’s meant to be. It involves long hours, unclear deadlines, and pressure without recognition. That’s not a flaw; it’s a filter.”
Renee gave a slight frown. “A filter for what?”
“For endurance,” Hal said instantly. “For commitment. For people who don’t need their hands held or their futures spelled out.”
Ellen spoke evenly. “Or for people willing to tolerate ambiguity indefinitely.”
“Yes,” Hal said. “Exactly.”
The word landed harder than he seemed to realize.
Jason shifted in his chair but stayed silent.
Hal kept going, more lively now. “Look, this firm is like a train. It has a direction, a speed, and a destination. People get on early, and some get off along the way.”
Renee stiffened. “You’re treating people like cargo.”
Hal shrugged. “I’m talking about reality.”
Ellen tilted her head. “So when a fifth- or sixth-year associate leaves, someone we’ve trained, staffed, and trusted, that’s just… them getting off the train?”
“Yes,” Hal said without hesitation. “They’ve decided the ride isn’t for them.”
Jason finally spoke. “Or they’ve decided they don’t know where it’s headed.”
Hal scoffed. “If someone needs certainty at that stage, they’re not MSL material.”
The room fell silent.
Renee paused in the silence, then cautiously broke it and said, “That’s a very expensive way to sort people.”
Hal waved her off. “We’ve always paid for excellence.”
Ellen replied calmly, “We’re paying now for the ambiguity.”
Hal turned to Jason. “You don’t really believe we should redesign the firm around people who can’t survive the mid-level associate years, do you?”
Jason didn’t respond immediately.
“I believe,” he said slowly, “that we need to be clear about whether the attrition we’re seeing is a bug or a feature of our current associate development.”
Hal laughed once, sharply. “That’s consultant-speak.”
“No,” Jason said. “That’s governance.”
Renee leaned forward. “Hal, no one is saying to lower standards. They’re asking whether endurance alone is still the standard we want to uphold.”
Hal leaned back, arms crossed once more. “It’s the standard that built this place.”
Ellen met his gaze. “And maybe it’s no longer enough to sustain it.”
Hal shook his head. “You’re overthinking this. People leave. The strong stay. That’s how it works.”
Jason closed his notebook.
“And what if,” he said quietly, “the people leaving are strong?”
Hal didn’t reply.
Jason looked around the table. “Here’s what we’re not doing today,” he said. “We’re not approving or rejecting a system yet.”
He paused.
“But we acknowledge that we’ve been treating this as self-selection without ever deciding whether that’s actually what we want.”
Hal’s jaw clenched. “I know what I want.”
Nothing was resolved; no votes were taken, no next steps announced, and no trains rerouted. The metaphor stayed in the room long after the meeting ended because once you say out loud that strong people are getting off the train, you have to be willing to answer where it’s headed and who you’re prepared to leave behind.
The MSL Saga™, MLARD™, and the 85/15 Model™ are trademarks of Susan B. Silverman Consulting. The MSL Saga and all episodes © 2026 Susan B. Silverman Consulting. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution is prohibited.
