When Reputation Collides With Duty: The Francis Scott Key Standard for Lawyers

Recently, I found myself in a heated discussion with a colleague about a case where our client was being shortchanged by an insurance company and arbitration tribunal. It wasn’t about a staggering sum of money, but about a matter of principle—holding those in power accountable when they break the rules.

The colleague, a skilled lawyer, declined to push for full justice in this instance, arguing that the situation wasn’t worth risking her reputation in her home state. She worried about her name appearing on pleadings, didn’t want to alienate influential people in the arbitration world, and ultimately concluded it just wasn’t worth the fight. I, on the other hand, felt the exact opposite.

“They’re cheating the client,” I said. “They’re cheating me. And if no one has the spine to stand up to them, they’ll just keep doing it.”

Her response struck a nerve: “Chuck, you’re a good guy and a good lawyer, but you end up resorting to being a massive antagonist. It ultimately belies your intentions, even when they’re good.”

I don’t believe that’s true. What I believe is this: when you’ve agreed to represent a client, you owe them the full measure of your skills, expertise, and courage. It’s not about you. It’s about the client. And that’s what led me to think about Francis Scott Key.

A Lawyer’s Duty: Lessons from Francis Scott Key

Francis Scott Key, the man who wrote the words to what we now know as The StarSpangled Banner, wasn’t just a poet—he was a lawyer. In 1814, during the War of 1812, Key was asked to negotiate the release of Dr. William Beanes, an American physician captured by the British. Though Key personally opposed the war, he agreed to advocate for his client. He boarded a British ship under a flag of truce and successfully secured Beanes’ release. But Key didn’t get to leave the ship immediately. The British detained him overnight during their relentless bombardment of Fort McHenry in Baltimore. Key watched as cannonballs and rockets illuminated the night sky, unsure if his country would withstand the attack. At dawn, when he saw the American flag still flying over the fort, he was so moved that he wrote the poem that would eventually become our national anthem.

Here’s the thing: when Key boarded that ship, he had no guarantees. He didn’t know if his efforts would succeed. He didn’t know if the United States would survive. And he certainly didn’t know that what he was doing would resonate centuries later. What he did know was that he had a duty to his client—and that duty outweighed his personal safety, his reputation, or any concerns about how history might judge him.

Reputation vs. Representation

Key’s story is a powerful reminder of the ethical responsibility lawyers have to their clients. The American Bar Association’s Model Rules of Professional Conduct make it clear: a lawyer’s representation of a client does not equate to an endorsement of their views or actions. It is a commitment to advocate for their rights within the bounds of the law. And yet, in modern practice, the fear of reputational damage often stops lawyers from fully engaging in difficult cases. Whether it’s standing up to a powerful insurance company or challenging a questionable arbitration process, the temptation to avoid rocking the boat is real. But avoiding the fight doesn’t serve the client—and it doesn’t serve justice. The reality is that even small cases matter. Cheating a client out of a few thousand dollars is still cheating. Injustice, no matter the dollar amount, erodes trust in the legal system. And if lawyers aren’t willing to stand up for their clients, who will?

Closing the Loop: Doing the Right Thing

As I think back on my conversation with my colleague, I understand where she’s coming from. It’s not easy to be the one pushing back, especially when the stakes seem low or the risks to your reputation seem high. But I can’t help but think of Francis Scott Key, standing on that British ship, watching his country’s survival hang in the balance. He didn’t know if his side would win. He didn’t know if his efforts would be enough. But he acted anyway because he believed in a country governed by laws—and in the duty of a lawyer to represent their client, no matter the circumstances.

As for me, I’m not walking away. The insurance company and arbitration tribunal might think this is just about a few thousand dollars, but for my client, it’s about fairness. It’s about justice. And for me, it’s about standing up for what’s right—reputation be damned. Francis Scott Key didn’t know his poem would become a national anthem, and I don’t know if this case will lead to significant change. But what I do know is this: when you represent a client, you represent them fully. Anything less betrays the principles that make our profession—and our country—great.