JUSTICE: Back-Room Man Out Front

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One of Brownell's most successful recruiting innovations puts the Department of Justice in competition with private firms and business corporations for the brightest law-school graduates. The program is in its third year, with the young lawyers agreeing to serve two years and to consider the opportunity of staying on as career Justice lawyers. This year 71 law graduates from 38 schools, all of them in the top 25% of their class, are entering the Justice Department.

Gradually, the spirit of top-level efficiency and teamwork has seeped down through the Justice Department ranks. "I think the Attorney General should get a Medal of Honor," says a U.S. attorney some 500 miles from Washington. "He's got us all feeling a certain pride in what we do." Another U.S. attorney's praise is the more meaningful because he frankly thinks Brownell is a cold fish ("I saw him get stewed once—but with dignity"). Says he: "Brownell has imbued the men surrounding him with the idea that there, is a great job to be done; somehow he inspires us."

"*-3." Another equally important dimension to the Brownell operation is implicit in the comment of Assistant Attorney General Perry Morton: "I think we've got a real law office here." Obscured by Brownell's political reputation was the fact that he is a crackerjack lawyer. He led his Yale Law School class, edited the Law Journal, won an Order of the Coif (he was Phi Beta Kappa from his home-state University of Nebraska), and is still considered by two former deans to rank among the finest students in Yale history. In private practice he was a partner in Manhattan's Lord, Day & Lord for more than 20 years (resigning only to become Attorney General), and an expert in corporation law. He is the first to admit that he is essentially a counselor, an office lawyer; he has never tried a case in court.

Counselor Brownell soon displayed a real talent for efficient administration—and if there was anything the Department of Justice needed, it was efficient administration. Some of the cases in the files when Brownell took over had been hanging around for a full generation. Field offices were supposed to turn in progress reports only once a year—and even then there was little reason to believe that anyone read them. Brownell instituted an elaborate IBM index system to tabulate reports—required monthly—so that Washington can now keep close track of every case at every stage of the legal game. Brownell himself reads the reports on all important cases and investigations, pencils notes in the margins, fires off brief memos typed on blue paper, e.g., "Please brief me a little more on the item on page 28 of your report." U.S. attorneys get higher salaries than before (up to $20,000), but are no longer allowed to engage in the dangerous, distracting business of outside practice. The U.S. attorney who lets a case drag can expect a "needlegram" from headquarters in short order. Especially ominous under "Remarks" on a coded work sheet sent the field offices is the notation "*-3." It translates roughly as: "The Attorney General is personally watching this case and wants action." He generally gets it.