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A candid conversation with Paul and Clay about why they became criminal defense lawyers, the cases they still remember, the mentors who shaped them, and the very different skills they bring to defending people against the power of the government.
THE COURTROOM FIGHTER
PATH IN: Left a successful career in the securities industry after witnessing a prison rodeo and deciding he wanted to spend his life keeping people out of cages.
STYLE: Relentless, unconventional, instinctive, and intensely committed to finding a way to win.
STRENGTH: Courtroom advocacy, creative trial strategy, and an unwillingness to give up—even when the odds appear overwhelming.
PHILOSOPHY: People should not be dehumanized, bullied by the government, or reduced to the worst thing they have ever done.
“This is the only job I want; this is the only job I’ve ever wanted.”
THE STRATEGIST BEHIND THE SCENES
PATH IN: A self-described “contrary soul” who heard growing up that you couldn’t fight City Hall—and decided to find a way to fight the government for a living.
STYLE: Analytical, research-driven, independent, and deeply focused on preparation.
STRENGTH: Appeals, pretrial litigation, research, legal strategy, and making sure every detail is in place before trial.
PHILOSOPHY: The government bears the burden of proving guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. A defense lawyer’s job is to make the government meet that burden.
“Someone has to police the police, and that is the job of criminal defense lawyers.”
ORIGINS & PURPOSE
CLAY:
Clay’s answer is simple: he has always been contrary.
He grew up hearing that “you can’t fight City Hall,” so naturally he wanted to find a way to fight the government for a living.
PAUL:
Paul’s path began far from a courtroom.
He was a vice president in the securities industry when he attended a prison rodeo in 1979. Prisoners were risking severe injury in exchange for early-release credits.
Watching them become injured while spectators cheered profoundly affected him.
He went home and told his wife:
“Life’s about to change.”
The following Monday, he resigned.
He eventually enrolled at South Texas College of Law with one purpose:
“Making sure that people don’t go to cages.”
CLAY:
Whether Clay personally believes someone is guilty does not determine whether that person deserves representation.
Unless he personally witnessed the crime, he only knows what other people have told him.
The burden belongs to the government.
It must prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.
His job is to make the government meet that burden.
PAUL:
Paul approaches the question differently.
His instinct is to stand beside the person facing the overwhelming power of the government.
He has always hated bullies, and when society, law enforcement, and the government all turn against one individual, Paul wants to be the person willing to fight back.
CLAY:
That principle extends beyond individual clients.
Clay believes criminal defense attorneys play an essential role in restraining government and law-enforcement power:
“Someone has to police the police.”
CASES THEY REMEMBER
Some cases stay with a lawyer because of the legal challenge. Others stay because of what the outcome meant to the person sitting beside them.
For Paul and Clay, the most memorable cases often involved both.
THE CLIENT WHO COULDN’T AFFORD TO LOSE
Paul remembers representing a pregnant mother of three who was caught driving a rental car containing eight kilograms of cocaine.
The evidence against her was significant.
But Paul saw something beyond the evidence.
He believed she was being used by another person who stood to profit while she assumed virtually all of the risk.
She had bills to pay, children at home, and another child on the way.
Sending her to prison would not only punish her—it could destroy an entire family.
Paul remembers the case as one where keeping her out of prison felt like:
“Doing God’s work.”
A LOSS AT TRIAL COURT — A WIN ON APPEAL
Clay remembers a case involving 473 kilograms of cocaine.
The defense challenged the evidence through a motion to suppress.
They lost.
So they kept fighting.
They appealed the ruling—and won the reversal.
Clay remembers calling his client in prison with the news.
The client was physically imposing, a large man with a black belt in karate.
When Clay told him they had won, the man broke down crying.
Why?
Because winning meant he could go home to his family.
That reaction—not simply the appellate victory—is what Clay remembers.
AGAINST THE ODDS
Paul’s career contains a number of cases that appeared nearly impossible on paper.
One involved a convicted felon accused of possessing a firearm.
The client had even confessed to police about where and when he obtained the gun.
The defense still found a way to win.
Another involved cocaine found on the floorboard of a vehicle.
During a lunch break, Paul placed a small piece of a Post-it note underneath the testifying officer’s chair.
When testimony resumed, Paul got the officer to agree that someone entering a vehicle would necessarily notice something lying near their feet.
Then Paul asked the officer—without looking down—to identify where the piece of paper underneath his own chair was located.
The officer couldn’t.
Everyone else could see it.
It was a simple demonstration designed to undermine the government’s assumption that the defendant necessarily knew drugs were on the floorboard.
For Paul, those are the cases that define the job:
Finding a path when the obvious path doesn’t exist.
THE PRESSURE OF INNOCENCE
Clay makes an unexpected distinction.
Representing someone he believes is innocent can actually be more stressful than representing someone who committed the crime.
With a guilty client, there may be options.
An acquittal may be possible.
A favorable plea agreement may be possible.
There may be several acceptable outcomes.
But when the client is innocent:
There is no acceptable compromise.
There is no satisfactory plea.
There is no consolation prize.
“You just have to win.”
The responsibility for protecting that person’s freedom rests heavily on the lawyer.
MENTORS
Their mentors came from very different places—and those differences help explain the lawyers Paul and Clay became.
CLAY
Clay credits law professor James Treece as an important mentor.
Treece was brilliant, unconventional, and comfortable doing things his own way.
But one lesson stayed with Clay more than anything else:
Work hard without losing perspective.
A legal career should not simply be about money or the number of hours worked.
What matters is:
What you put into those hours.
PAUL
Paul names respected attorneys Dick DeGuerin and Ed Mollette as professional mentors.
But two of his most influential teachers came from an unexpected place:
John Draper and Harvey Dell Angel.
Both had extensive criminal histories.
Paul says they were also extraordinarily intelligent legal thinkers who taught him how to think about law, research cases, and approach seemingly impossible battles.
Most importantly, they reinforced something Paul considers fundamental:
People accused or convicted of crimes are still people worthy of respect.
Their philosophy also helped shape Paul’s approach to difficult cases:
“Anybody can win the things they’re supposed to win. Lawyers win when they’re not supposed to win.”
LIVES CHANGED
CLAY — FROM LIFE TO TWO YEARS
Clay remembers representing a man who had previously been convicted of murder and had a long history of drug addiction.
The man had successfully overcome his addiction for years.
Then he underwent surgery.
Prescription narcotics reintroduced him to drugs, and after the prescriptions ended, he relapsed.
He was eventually arrested with a user amount of cocaine.
Because of his prior record, he faced the possibility of life in prison.
The defense assembled a comprehensive presentation showing the court who this man was, what had happened, and why his relapse deserved context.
The judge reduced the potential life sentence to:
Two years.
The client eventually returned home and resumed a productive life.
For Clay, it demonstrated what can happen when a lawyer persuades the system to see the person instead of simply the record.
PAUL — THE “DO-GOODER SOCIAL WORKER”
Paul doesn’t identify one person.
For him, trying to change clients’ lives is simply part of the job.
He describes himself as:
“The do-gooder social worker of the group.”
He pushes clients repeatedly to change destructive behavior.
Sometimes it works.
And when it does, the result can matter far beyond what happened in the courtroom.
INSIDE THE FIRM
Their partnership works because their strengths are almost opposites.
PAUL ON CLAY
“He’s the smartest man I know.”
If a case requires someone sitting behind a computer trying to determine how to win, Paul says Clay is exactly who he wants there.
Clay’s strengths are research, analysis, preparation, and communicating complex legal arguments to judges.
Paul jokes:
“He speaks judge and computer very well.”
CLAY ON PAUL
Clay describes Paul as:
Stubborn. A street fighter. And almost impossible to count out.
Sometimes everyone else believes Paul has lost.
Paul sees something different.
He may appear to be fighting the same battle as everyone else, while actually pursuing an entirely different strategy.
Then somehow:
He wins.
“Sometimes Paul manages to find a way to win where nobody else knows what he’s going for.”
TWO DIFFERENT ROLES
Before becoming a lawyer, Clay worked as a field engineer in theatrical lighting.
He worked behind the scenes in television studios, auditoriums, and traveling productions.
Today, he sees his role in much the same way.
Clay handles appeals, research, pretrial litigation, and preparation.
Paul handles much of the courtroom performance.
Clay describes the relationship this way:
“I am more of the screenwriter. Paul is more of the actor.”
But one cannot function effectively without the other.
Clay’s job is to make sure everything is prepared before Paul enters the courtroom.
Paul’s job is to take that preparation and turn it into advocacy before a judge or jury.
“It takes both of us.”
OUTSIDE THE LAW
CLAY
If he weren’t practicing criminal defense, Clay says he would probably:
Own a recording studio in New Orleans.
PAUL
Paul doesn’t have an alternative.
He says criminal defense is the only job he wants and the only job he has ever wanted.
He says he would do it for free if nobody paid him—although since people do pay him, he insists on being paid.
Vacation does not hold much appeal either.
After too long away:
He misses the work.
PERSISTENCE
One of the most revealing things Paul says about himself has little to do with talent.
It is about persistence.
Before law became his career, he had dozens of jobs.
He started and stopped law school multiple times.
Important things rarely came easily.
His legal career followed the same pattern.
His first 17 jury trials were losses.
Every one.
Then the pattern changed.
Paul says that when something matters to him, he goes back to it again.
And again.
And again.
That stubbornness became one of the defining characteristics of his career.
LOOKING FORWARD
CLAY
Clay expects to be sitting at essentially the same desk doing the same work.
Perhaps he’ll take a little more time off.
Eventually, he jokes, he and his wife might live in an old castle in Budapest.
But for the foreseeable future:
He’s staying with the law.
PAUL
Paul’s answer is even simpler.
Ten years from now:
Criminal defense.
Twenty years from now:
Criminal defense.
Thirty years from now:
Criminal defense.
He has no desire to retire.
In fact, one of his goals is to successfully try a jury case after turning 100.
“They’re going to have to drag me out unable to speak before I’ll ever quit doing this.”
THE CLOSING MESSAGE
Clay sees himself backstage.
Paul lives for the courtroom.
Clay researches.
Paul fights.
Clay builds the legal foundation.
Paul looks for the opening nobody else sees.
And both are united by an unwillingness to accept that the government should simply get its way because the odds favor it.
Paul says people sometimes underestimate how seriously he means the things he says.
When he takes a position—even one other people consider unrealistic—he generally believes it completely.
And once he believes something is worth fighting for:
He keeps going.
Clay summarizes his partner in one sentence:
“I told you he was just stubborn.”
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