Good Lawyers Don’t Just Solve Problems. They Prevent Them. Why Don’t We Train Them That Way?

As the CEO of ADRODR India, I have had a front-row seat to the evolving landscape of dispute resolution in our country. Over the years, one observation has remained stubbornly consistent: we train our lawyers exceptionally well to fight fires, but rarely to fireproof the building.

This is not a criticism of individual lawyers. On the contrary, the legal profession is filled with sharp minds, disciplined thinkers, and committed professionals. The issue lies deeper in the architecture of legal education and the incentives embedded within our system.

From the very first day in law school, students are immersed in case law. They learn to dissect disputes, identify issues, and argue positions with precision. This is, of course, essential. But notice the pattern: the law is introduced as something that comes alive after a conflict has already occurred. The client has already suffered loss. Positions have hardened. Relationships have often deteriorated beyond repair.

In other words, we teach law as a post-mortem science.

What we do not teach at least not with equal seriousness is how to prevent disputes from arising in the first place. How to draft contracts that anticipate human behaviour, not just legal contingencies. How to design systems that reduce friction. How to advise clients in a way that avoids escalation rather than preparing for it.

If litigation is surgery, then preventive law is public health. And at present, our curriculum is overwhelmingly surgical.

There is a certain irony here. In corporate boardrooms, general counsel are increasingly valued not for their courtroom prowess, but for their ability to foresee risk, manage relationships, and guide decision-making before matters spiral. Yet, the pipeline that feeds into these roles is trained largely in adversarial thinking.

This mismatch has consequences.

First, it increases the volume of disputes. When lawyers are trained primarily to react rather than anticipate, opportunities for early intervention are missed. Small misunderstandings grow into formal disputes. Commercial disagreements turn into protracted litigation. What could have been resolved through a well-timed conversation or a carefully worded clause ends up consuming years of judicial time.

Second, it raises the cost of doing business. Preventable disputes are, quite simply, expensive. They drain financial resources, managerial attention, and institutional goodwill. In a country striving to improve ease of doing business, this is a structural inefficiency we can ill afford.

Third, it erodes relationships. Many disputes particularly in commercial and family contexts are not just about legal rights but ongoing relationships. A purely adversarial approach often leaves one or both parties dissatisfied, even if a legal victory is achieved. Preventive law, by contrast, focuses on preserving value, not merely allocating blame.

So why don’t we train lawyers differently?

Part of the answer lies in tradition. The legal profession has long been rooted in advocacy. The image of the lawyer as a courtroom strategist is deeply ingrained, not just in popular imagination but in institutional design. Law schools mirror courts; examinations reward argumentation; internships often revolve around litigation practice.

Another part lies in measurability. It is easier to evaluate a student’s ability to argue a case than their ability to prevent one. Prevention is subtle. It requires judgement, empathy, foresight, and interdisciplinary thinking, all qualities that are harder to test in a three hour examination.

There is also an economic dimension. The legal market, historically, has rewarded dispute resolution more visibly than dispute prevention. Billable hours accumulate in litigation. Preventive advice, if successful, often goes unnoticed precisely because nothing goes wrong. It is the paradox of success: when you do your job well, there is no headline.

However, the tide is beginning to turn.

At ADRODR International, we see increasing demand for mediation, negotiation frameworks, and early dispute resolution mechanisms. Businesses are no longer content with winning cases; they want to avoid them. They are asking sharper questions: How do we structure our contracts better? How do we build escalation clauses that actually work? How do we train our teams to manage conflict before it becomes legal?

These are not questions of law alone. They sit at the intersection of law, psychology, management, and communication.

This is where our training must evolve.

Imagine a law school curriculum where students spend as much time on negotiation simulations as they do on moot courts. Where they study behavioural economics to understand why parties take irrational positions. Where contract drafting is taught not as a mechanical exercise, but as a strategic tool for risk allocation and relationship management. I have just returned from India, after signing the MOU with O.P. Jindal University (JGU) . Professor Raj Kumar, the Vice Chancellor and his stellar faculty have encapsulated this to perfection in their multidisciplinary curriculum. 

Imagine clinical programmes where students work with small businesses to identify potential legal risks before they crystallise. Where they design dispute resolution clauses tailored to specific industries. Where they learn to facilitate conversations between parties, not just represent one against the other.

Imagine assessments that reward not just the ability to win an argument, but the ability to find a solution that both sides can live with.

This is not a utopian vision. Elements of this approach already exist in pockets particularly in alternative dispute resolution (ADR) training. But they remain peripheral, often treated as optional rather than foundational.

That must change.

Preventive lawyering requires a shift in mindset. It asks lawyers to move from being warriors to being architects. From focusing solely on rights to considering interests. From asking “Who is right?” to asking “What will work?”

It also requires humility. Prevention is collaborative. It involves listening, understanding context, and sometimes advising clients against their immediate instincts. It is less about winning and more about solving.

From a policy perspective, there is a strong case for integrating preventive law into the core of legal education. Regulatory bodies, universities, and professional institutions must work together to redesign curricula. Continuing legal education programmes should emphasise skills like negotiation, mediation, and risk assessment. Law firms and corporate legal departments should incentivise preventive work, not just dispute resolution. JGU has a world class understanding of this and is with gusto training its future students accordingly. 

The judiciary, too, has a role to play. By encouraging pre-litigation mediation and recognising the value of early settlement, courts can signal that prevention is not a lesser form of justice, but often a superior one.

Ultimately, this is about redefining what it means to be a “good lawyer.”

A good lawyer is not merely someone who can navigate a dispute with skill though that remains important. A truly effective lawyer is one who can see the dispute coming from a distance and steer their client away from it. Someone who understands that the best case is often the one that never reaches court.

There is a quiet satisfaction in that kind of work. It does not make headlines. It does not produce dramatic judgements. But it creates stability, preserves relationships, and contributes to a more efficient legal system.

In a country with an already burdened judiciary, the case for prevention is not just professional, it is societal.

We do not need fewer lawyers. We need differently trained ones.

And the sooner we accept that, the closer we come to a legal system that does not just respond to conflict, but actively reduces it.

Author: Pavani Sibal is the CEO of ADRODR India. The views expressed are personal.