The Law Firm Business Plan Nobody Needs (And the Four Numbers You Do)

Every bar association in the country publishes a business plan template, and I've now read a good number of them.

They're thorough. They have sections on mission statements and competitive analysis and marketing strategy, and they run to twenty pages. They are also, for an attorney about to go out on her own, close to useless — not because the advice is wrong, but because they're answering a question nobody asked.

A business plan written for a bank is a document. A business plan written for yourself is a decision.

The attorneys I've watched launch successfully didn't produce twenty pages. Most of them worked out four numbers on a legal pad, stared at the fourth one for a while, and then either went or didn't.

In full disclosure: I rent offices and provide support staff to law firms, so one of those numbers eventually involves me. The other three don't.

Do you need a business plan to start a law firm?

Only if you're borrowing money. If you're funding it yourself, what you need is four numbers and the honesty to look at them. A formal plan is a document written to persuade somebody else. The exercise that actually matters is working out whether the arithmetic closes.

If you are seeking a loan or a line of credit, write the full document — your lender will want the sections the templates describe.

Everyone else is writing a plan because they've been told to, and the writing substitutes for the thinking.

What is a solo's business plan actually for?

To find out, before you commit, whether the money arrives before it runs out. That's the whole question. Everything else in a standard template is either a restatement of what you already know or a guess dressed up as analysis.

You know your practice area. You know roughly who your clients are. You've been doing this work, usually for years.

What you don't know is the timing. How much you'll bill in month three, how much of that you'll collect in month five, and whether your savings cover the gap. That's not a mission statement problem.

Number one: what will you actually bill?

Take your realistic hourly rate, multiply by billable hours you'll genuinely work, and then cut the result — because almost nobody bills what they plan to in year one. Clio's research has consistently found solo practitioners capturing around 2.9 billable hours in an eight-hour day, roughly 37%.

That figure surprises attorneys who've only worked in firms, where someone else handled intake, collections, conflicts, and the phone.

On your own you are also the receptionist, the biller, the filer and the marketer. The 37% isn't laziness. It's what's left when one person does all the jobs.

So if you're planning on 1,500 billable hours in year one because that's what you did as an associate, halve it and see whether the number still works. If it does, you have a practice. If it only works at 1,500, you don't have a plan — you have a hope.

This is also the number that moves most when you buy support. Not because anyone works harder, but because the hours you spend chasing records and answering the phone are hours you aren't billing.

Number two: what will you collect, and when?

Billing is not revenue. Collection realisation for small firms typically runs well below 100%, and the lag between work performed and cash received is where practices die. You do the work in March, invoice in April, get paid in June, and your landlord doesn't care about any of that.

Two things to work out honestly.

What proportion will you actually collect? Some clients don't pay. Some pay late enough that you write it off. Some matters settle in ways that change the fee.

And what's the lag? Hourly practice collects slowest. Flat fee collects faster if you take money up front. Contingency collects in lumps, possibly eighteen months out, which is why personal injury practices live or die on runway rather than billing.

Number three: what does it cost to run?

For most solos this is the smallest and most predictable of the four, and it's the one people spend the most time on. Illinois compliance is $385 a year, or nothing if you were admitted since 2025. Forming a PLLC adds $275 in year one and isn't required. Software runs about $1,400, space from $69 a month.

The full arithmetic is in the cost breakdown, with four worked scenarios.

The reason this gets disproportionate attention is that it's the only one of the four you can look up. The other three require you to be honest about yourself, which is harder than research.

Number four: how long can you go without income?

This is the number that decides whether the practice survives, and it's the one every template mentions in a single line. Enough cash or credit to cover startup costs plus six to twelve months of business expenses — and your personal expenses. Mortgage, groceries, insurance, school fees.

Write that number down. It will be larger than everything else on the page combined.

And it's where two attorneys with identical practice areas have completely different answers. If you're leaving a firm with clients who will follow you, revenue starts in month one and you may need very little runway. If you're starting cold, you need all twelve months, and no amount of optimism about month four changes it.

The attorneys I've watched struggle were almost never the ones who spent too much on an office. They were the ones who ran out of money in month seven, with work in the pipeline that hadn't paid yet.

What should you skip?

The mission statement, the competitive analysis, the five-year projection, and the SWOT. Not because they're worthless in principle, but because for a one-person law firm they produce confident-looking pages containing no information you didn't already have before you started writing them.

Your competitive analysis is that there are a lot of lawyers in Chicago and some of them are good. Your five-year projection is a guess multiplied by itself five times.

Skip them. Spend the time on the collection lag instead — it's harder, less satisfying, and considerably more useful.

One exception. If you're pitching a lateral move or a partnership rather than going solo, the formal document matters, because the audience is other people. Different exercise entirely.

What about Illinois specifically?

Form a PLLC, not an LLC — Illinois has required licensed professionals to use a professional limited liability company since August 2018. Several of the generic Illinois LLC guides ranking for law firm queries will walk you into the wrong entity.

The rest of the Illinois mechanics — ARDC registration, IOLTA setup, the Cook County attorney number, e-filing — are covered in detail here.

Two Illinois-specific things worth putting in your numbers: ISBA membership is free in your first year after admission and includes vLex Fastcase, which sells standalone at $695. And malpractice insurance isn't required here, though ISBA Mutual reports the average cost of defending a meritless claim at around $28,000 — so the under-$1,000 first-year premium is the cheapest risk transfer you'll ever buy.

Frequently asked questions

Only if you are borrowing money. A lender will want the full document with the sections bar association templates describe. If you are self-funding, what you need is four numbers — projected billings, collection rate and lag, operating costs, and personal runway — and the honesty to look at them.

Realistic billable hours rather than aspirational ones, a collection rate and payment lag, operating costs including compliance and space, and the number of months you can go without income. Mission statements, SWOT analyses and five-year projections add length without adding information.

Fewer than you billed as an associate. Clio's research has consistently found solos capturing around 2.9 billable hours in an eight-hour day, roughly 37%, because the same person handles intake, billing, conflicts and the phone. Plan on that, not on firm-level utilisation.

Treating runway as a line item rather than the central question. Most templates mention operating reserves in a sentence. It is larger than every other figure combined and it is what separates practices that survive from ones that close with work still in the pipeline.

Credible guidance calls for startup costs plus six to twelve months of both business and personal expenses. The real answer depends entirely on whether clients follow you. An attorney with a portable book may need very little; one starting cold needs the full twelve months.

A PLLC. Illinois has required licensed professionals to use a professional limited liability company since August 2018, and existing LLCs had to amend. Generic Illinois LLC formation guides, several of which rank for law firm queries, direct attorneys to the wrong entity type.

Several state bars publish them — the New York City Bar, the Florida Bar through LegalFuel, Oregon's Professional Liability Fund, Louisiana and Colorado among them. They are thorough and written for lenders. Useful if you are borrowing; largely ceremonial if you are not.

It is the proportion of billed work you actually collect, and the lag between performing work and receiving payment. Billing is not revenue. A practice can be busy, profitable on paper, and still fail because the money arrives two months after the expenses do.

The fourth number

I've sat across from a lot of attorneys who were about to do this, and the conversation has a shape.

They want to talk about the first number — what they'll bill — because it's the exciting one, and because they've usually already done the maths in their head several times on the drive in.

By the time we get to the fourth number, the energy in the room has changed.

That's not a reason to avoid it. It's the entire reason to do the exercise. The point of working out your runway isn't to talk yourself out of going solo. It's to go in knowing where the edge is, so that in month seven you're making a decision rather than discovering one.

The attorneys who do that are the ones still practising three years later.

Questions about any of this? 312.924.0200 or [email protected].

Ron Bockstahler is the founder and CEO of Amata Law Office Suites, a vendor member of the Chicago Bar Association, supporting Chicago-area law firms since 2002. He co-hosts The 1958 Lawyer podcast.

Amata Law Office Suites is not a law firm and does not provide legal services to the general public. This article is general information, not legal, tax, or financial advice.

What It Actually Costs to Start a Law Firm in Chicago

Clio's guide to starting a law firm says a lean home-based solo can launch for around $3,000 in the first year.

I've read that number several times trying to decide whether it's wrong, and the honest answer is that it isn't. For one specific person it's about right. For the attorneys I actually watch launch practices, it's off by a factor of three or four — and the gap isn't in the line items, it's in the assumption.

The assumption is that you're starting with no clients.

Some people are. A newly admitted attorney hanging a shingle has almost no mandatory costs, and I'll show you exactly how few. But a forty-five-year-old leaving a firm with business that will follow her is solving a completely different problem, and every number changes.

So here are both, with real Illinois figures rather than national averages.

In full disclosure: I sell office space and support staff to attorneys, and some of what follows is what we charge. The compliance numbers aren't mine to inflate and I've sourced them.

What does it cost to start a law firm in Illinois?

The mandatory cost of becoming a practising Illinois solo is $385 a year — or nothing at all if you were admitted since January 2025. That's ARDC registration, and it's the only thing Illinois actually requires. Everything else on any startup list is a choice, and the choices are where the real money is.

That surprises people. It surprised me when I worked it through properly.

What are the unavoidable costs?

ARDC registration, and a trust account if you'll hold client money. That's the entire mandatory list. Everything else below — entity formation, the annual report, an EIN — is either optional or free, and the whole sequence is done in an afternoon once you know what's actually required.

ItemCostRequired?
ARDC registration, admitted before Jan 1 2025$385/yearYes
ARDC registration, admitted since Jan 1 2025$0Yes
IOLTA trust accountUsually freeIf holding client funds
EIN from the IRSFreePractically, yes
Articles of Organization, Form LLC-5.5$150 one-timeNo
IDFPR Certificate of Registration$50 one-timeOnly with a PLLC
Annual report, Form LLC-50.1$75/yearOnly with a PLLC

Two things here catch attorneys out, and the first one surprised me.

You don't have to form an entity. Illinois doesn't require attorneys to register a business, and a sole proprietorship needs no state filing at all — you'd register an Assumed Name only if you practise under something other than your own name.

Form one anyway, and here's the specific reason. As a sole proprietor you are personally liable for every contract the practice signs. The office lease, the equipment, the vendor agreements, the staffing contracts. You and the firm are the same legal person, so if the practice can't pay, the claim lands on your personal assets.

Sign a three-year lease as a sole proprietor and close the practice in year two, and the landlord comes after you. Sign it through a PLLC and the claim is against the PLLC.

In full disclosure, I lease offices to attorneys, so I'm on the other side of precisely that contract. I'd still rather you signed as a PLLC.

What a PLLC does not do is shield you from your own malpractice. You remain personally liable for your own professional negligence whatever entity you practise through. That's what the insurance is for — the two are separate decisions, not alternatives.

If you do form one, it must be a PLLC, not an LLC. Illinois has required licensed professionals to use a professional limited liability company since August 2018. Every generic "how to start an LLC in Illinois" guide — and several rank for law firm queries — will walk you into the wrong entity. Existing LLCs had to amend.

The ARDC's early-career discount is gone. The reduced $121 fee for attorneys admitted under three years was eliminated effective October 2024. If you were admitted in 2024 or later you pay nothing for a while, then the full $385. There's no longer a middle step.

Do I need malpractice insurance in Illinois?

No, and this is the most misunderstood item on any startup list. Illinois does not require malpractice coverage. What Rule 756(e) requires is that you disclose annually whether you carry it — and if you're in private practice without coverage, you must complete the ARDC's four-hour Proactive Management-Based Regulation self-assessment every two years.

Not insurance. Just homework, and a public record of your answer.

Carry it anyway, and here's the number that makes the case. A first-year solo policy typically costs under $1,000, because claims-made coverage has almost no prior work to insure. It steps up at each renewal, levelling around $2,000 to $4,000 by year five or six at $1M/$3M limits.

ISBA Mutual reports that the average cost of defending a meritless claim is about $28,000.

A claim doesn't need merit to be filed against you. Defending one without coverage costs roughly thirty times your first-year premium.

What does software actually cost?

Less than the people writing about it suggest, and in Illinois considerably less than that. A working solo stack runs about $1,400 a year and a minimum viable one under $100 — because Illinois attorneys have a benefit most of them don't know they're already paying for.

The reason is a benefit most Illinois attorneys don't know they have.

ISBA membership is free in your first year after admission, then $75 for years two and three, rising to $455 at eleven years and beyond. Included at every level: vLex Fastcase, which sells standalone at $695 a year, plus fifteen hours of on-demand CLE and daily Illinois case digests.

An eleven-year attorney pays $455 and receives more than that back in research alone.

For everything else:

ItemTypical
Practice management, entry tier$39–49/user/month
Microsoft 365 or Google Workspace$6–12.50/user/month
QuickBooks Online$30–35/month
Legal researchFree with ISBA

Two Illinois specifics worth knowing. E-filing through Odyssey eFileIL is free — the state charges nothing for the service, though court filing fees and payment processing still apply. And Cook County requires a five-digit Cook County Attorney Number, distinct from your ARDC number, before you can e-file. Get it from the Clerk before your first filing, not during it.

Practice area changes this more than anything else. Immigration and bankruptcy both have effectively mandatory specialist software — roughly $800 to $1,400 a year for immigration case management, and petition software for bankruptcy. Estate planning, family law, personal injury, and litigation can all run on general practice management plus free or occasional tools.

What does space cost?

A business address is $69 to $119 a month depending on the building. A private office starts at $650 and an associate-size office with a window runs closer to $1,450. Between them sit a virtual office at $205 and Virtual Office Plus at $368.

Virtual Office Plus is the one worth explaining, because it solves a problem software doesn't. It includes court runs — courtesy copies to judges, Clerk's office filings, Recorder of Deeds, Cook County Sheriff process service drops, Secretary of State filings — plus two free day offices a month.

You're in a hearing at ten. Something has to be filed by four. There is no app for that.

Conference rooms are hourly — $55 for a small room, $330 for a full day — so meeting clients doesn't require a lease.

Whether you need any of this is a longer question, and the answer isn't the same for every practice.

What does everyone leave off the list?

Operating capital, and it's larger than everything above combined. Most startup checklists mention it in a sentence. The guidance that takes it seriously says you need enough cash or credit to cover startup costs plus six to twelve months of business and personal expenses.

That's the real number. Not the $150 filing fee.

It's also where the two scenarios diverge completely. An attorney leaving a firm with clients who follow needs relatively little runway, because revenue starts in month one. An attorney starting cold needs the full twelve months, and that figure dwarfs every other line on the page.

Nobody can calculate that for you. But if you only do one piece of arithmetic before launching, do that one.

A few other things commonly left off: a business operating account and a savings account for taxes, separate from your IOLTA. Payment processing so clients can pay by card. Health insurance, which for someone leaving a firm and losing group coverage is likely your second-largest line item. A CPA or bookkeeper, because Rule 1.15 requires monthly three-way reconciliation and per-matter client ledgers, and that is not a task to learn on live client funds.

So what's the real number?

Between roughly $1,200 and $23,400 for year one, depending almost entirely on whether you already have clients when you start. Here are four versions, each including compliance, software, and space, built from the Illinois figures above rather than from national averages or estimates.

Newly admitted, working from home. ARDC $0, sole proprietorship so no entity cost, business address $69/month, minimal software. About $1,200.

Experienced attorney, virtual office and reception. ARDC $385, PLLC $275 first year, virtual office $205/month, live reception with 100 minutes at $343/month, conference rooms twice monthly, working software stack. About $10,300.

Experienced attorney, entry private office. Same, with a $650 office instead. About $13,800.

Experienced attorney, associate-size window office. About $23,400.

None of these include operating capital or health insurance, because both depend on facts I don't have. Add them.

Frequently asked questions

The only mandatory cost is ARDC registration at $385 a year, or nothing if you were admitted since January 2025. Illinois does not require attorneys to form a business entity. Everything beyond that is a choice, and first-year totals realistically range from about $1,200 to $23,400.

Because a sole proprietor is personally liable for every contract the practice signs — office leases, equipment, vendor and staffing agreements. You and the firm are the same legal person. A PLLC separates your personal assets from the firm's obligations, though it does not shield you from your own malpractice.

$385 annually for attorneys admitted before January 1, 2025, and nothing at all for those admitted since. The reduced $121 early-career fee was eliminated effective October 2024, so there is no longer any intermediate rate sitting between free and the full amount.

No, Illinois does not require malpractice coverage. Rule 756(e) requires only annual disclosure of whether you carry it, and private-practice attorneys reporting none must complete the ARDC's four-hour PMBR self-assessment every two years in order to remain eligible to register.

A PLLC. Illinois has required licensed professionals to use a professional limited liability company since August 2018, and existing LLCs had to amend. Generic Illinois LLC guides, several of which rank for law firm queries, will direct you to the wrong entity type.

Less than most guides suggest. A working stack runs about $1,400 a year and a minimum one under $100, because ISBA membership includes vLex Fastcase free — a $695 standalone value — along with CLE hours. Practice management runs $39 to $49 monthly at entry tiers.

Operating capital. Credible guidance calls for enough cash or credit to cover startup costs plus six to twelve months of both business and personal expenses. That figure exceeds every other line item combined, and it varies entirely by whether clients follow you.

The Odyssey eFileIL service itself charges no fee, though statutory court filing fees and payment processing charges still apply. Cook County additionally requires a five-digit Cook County Attorney Number, which is separate from your ARDC number, before you can file anything.

A business address runs $69 to $119 monthly by location, a virtual office $205, and Virtual Office Plus $368 with court runs included. An entry private office is $650 monthly and an associate-size office with a window closer to $1,450.

An operating account and a tax savings account kept separate from your IOLTA, card payment processing, health insurance if you are leaving group coverage, and a CPA or bookkeeper — Rule 1.15 requires monthly three-way reconciliation and per-matter client ledgers.

The number that actually decides it

I've watched a lot of attorneys launch practices — more than fifty through Chicago-Kent's incubator programme alone, where we've provided space and services free since 2013.

The ones who struggle are almost never the ones who spent too much on an office. They're the ones who ran out of runway in month seven.

Which is why I find the $3,000 figure frustrating rather than wrong. It answers a question about line items when the question that ends practices is about time — how long you can go before the money arrives, and whether you were honest with yourself about that before you started.

Work out your runway first. Everything on this page is easier to decide once you have.

Questions about any of this? 312.924.0200 or [email protected].

Ron Bockstahler is the founder and CEO of Amata Law Office Suites, a vendor member of the Chicago Bar Association, supporting Chicago-area law firms since 2002. He co-hosts The 1958 Lawyer podcast.

Amata Law Office Suites is not a law firm and does not provide legal services to the general public. This article is general information, not legal, tax, or insurance advice. Fees and requirements change — verify current figures with the ARDC, the Illinois Secretary of State, and IDFPR before relying on them.

Do You Need an Office to Practice Law in Illinois?

No.

I want to answer that before anything else, because the honest answer is no and every piece I've read on this subject either buries it or pretends otherwise depending on what the writer is selling.

You do not need a physical office to practise law in Illinois. There is no rule requiring one. The ABA said so directly in 2021, Illinois has never required it, and attorneys have been running perfectly good practices from spare bedrooms for years.

In full disclosure, I run a company that rents offices to attorneys. So you'd expect me to argue the opposite, and I'm not going to.

What I am going to do is separate four questions that usually get collapsed into one. Whether you need an office. Whether you need an address. Whether you need somewhere to meet people. And whether you'd be better off not working alone.

They have different answers, and the last one is the one nobody writes about.

Do Illinois attorneys need a physical office?

No. Illinois has no rule requiring an attorney to maintain a brick-and-mortar office. ARDC registration asks you to designate an address for the public master roll, not to prove you occupy any particular kind of space. ABA Formal Opinion 498, issued in March 2021, confirms a practice may be entirely virtual because the Model Rules contain no such requirement.

Some states have taken a different view historically — New Jersey and New York have wrestled with "bona fide office" rules. Illinois never adopted one.

What Illinois does have is Rule 7.1, which says communications about your services can't be false or misleading. That's the standard your address has to meet. Not a particular square footage.

So the question isn't whether you're allowed to work from home. You are. The question is what you lose by doing it, and whether that matters for your practice.

What do you actually need instead?

A business address that isn't your house, and it matters more than most attorneys realise until they've registered. The address you give the ARDC appears on the public master roll. The address on your appearance and your pleadings is public too. Both are visible to every opposing party, every opposing counsel, and every client.

That's the practical case, and it's the one attorneys tend to accept immediately once they've thought about it. Family law and criminal defence attorneys usually don't need it explained.

There's a second reason, less urgent and more constant. A residential address on your letterhead tells every recipient something about your practice before they read a word of what you wrote. Whether that matters depends entirely on who your clients are.

A business address at a Chicago Loop location runs $69 to $119 a month depending on the building. That's the cheapest problem on this list to solve.

Do you need somewhere to meet clients?

It depends on your practice area, and the honest answer varies more than anyone selling office space will admit. A transactional attorney whose clients are companies may go years without an in-person meeting. A family law or personal injury attorney meets people constantly, often at the worst moment of their lives.

If you're in the second group, where you meet them is a decision your client notices.

I've heard every version of the coffee shop argument and some of it is fair — plenty of good lawyers have taken meetings at a Starbucks and kept the client. But a woman going through a divorce, explaining her finances across a café table while someone queues behind her, is having a different experience than one in a room with a door.

Conference rooms by the hour solve this without a lease. A small room runs $55 an hour, a full day $330. If you meet clients twice a month, that's the whole problem handled for less than a phone bill.

The part nobody writes about

Here's what I think the software companies get wrong when they tell you that you don't need an office. They're answering a question about square footage. The question that actually matters is whether you should work alone.

You are a better lawyer when you're around other lawyers. Not in a sentimental way. In a practical, measurable way.

You have a question about a judge you've never appeared before, and someone down the hall has been in front of him forty times. You're weighing whether to take a case outside your wheelhouse, and the person in the next office does that work and will tell you in two minutes what you'd spend a week figuring out. You've had a bad ruling and you need to say so out loud to someone who understands why it stings.

None of that happens on Slack. None of it happens in a spare bedroom.

And it's where the work comes from. Referrals between attorneys aren't generated by a marketing campaign. They happen because someone knows you, has heard you talk about a case, and trusts you with a client they can't serve. That requires proximity and repetition. It requires being somewhere.

A home office gives you everything except the other people. For a lot of practices that's a fine trade. For an attorney building a practice from scratch, it's the expensive part of the decision, and it doesn't show up on any cost comparison because nobody knows how to price a referral that didn't happen.

What happens when you hire someone?

The calculus changes completely the first time you have staff. You need somewhere outside your home to meet with them, train them, and let them work — and most attorneys discover this about three weeks after the hire rather than before.

There are versions that work remotely, and plenty of firms run distributed teams well. But the first hire is usually the point where the spare bedroom stops being a decision about you and starts being a decision about somebody else's working conditions.

It's also the point where the cost comparison shifts. One person working from your kitchen is a lifestyle choice. Two is a business without premises.

If offices don't matter, why do large firms still have them?

Because they've run this calculation with better data than either of us has, and they keep signing leases. Firms that could plausibly go fully remote, that have the technology and the capital and every incentive to cut overhead, are still taking downtown space.

Some of that is inertia and some of it is client expectation. But the firms that tried hardest to shrink their footprints after 2020 have mostly been quietly expanding them again, and the reason they give, when they give one, is training and culture — the same thing a solo loses in a spare bedroom, at a scale where they can measure the cost.

That's not proof you need an office. It's evidence that people with more information than you have reached a conclusion, and it's worth knowing before you conclude the opposite.

What does an office actually cost in Chicago?

Amata's entry private office is $650 a month, and an associate-size office with a window runs closer to $1,450. Between those and a business address sit two middle options most attorneys don't know exist, and one of them solves a problem that has no software answer at all.

A virtual office at $205 a month adds business-hours access to any Amata location, lounge and café use, and discounted conference rooms to the address.

Virtual Office Plus at $368 adds the thing a solo genuinely can't do alone: court runs. Courtesy copies to judges, Clerk's office filings, Recorder of Deeds, Cook County Sheriff process service drops, Secretary of State filings. Plus two free day offices a month.

That last one exists because of a specific problem. You're in a hearing at 10am and something has to be filed by 4pm. There's no software answer to that.

Full arithmetic for a first year is in the cost breakdown.

So what should you actually do?

If you're newly admitted with no clients, work from home and buy a business address. That's $69 a month, it keeps your home off the public master roll, and it is the right answer. Spend nothing else on space until you have revenue coming in.

If you're leaving a firm with clients who will follow you, you're a different person with a different problem. Those clients have an expectation formed by where they used to meet you, and the gap between that and your dining room is a risk you're taking for a saving you may not need.

And if you're anywhere in between, the honest version is this: an office is the most expensive line on your startup budget and the easiest one to defer. Defer it. Just be clear about what you're deferring — not the square footage, the people.

Frequently asked questions

No. Illinois has no rule requiring a brick-and-mortar office, and ABA Formal Opinion 498 confirms a practice may be entirely virtual because the Model Rules contain no such requirement. What Illinois requires is that communications about your services, including your address, not be misleading under Rule 7.1.

You can, but understand what you're agreeing to. The address you designate appears on the public ARDC master roll, and the address on your appearance and pleadings is public as well. Both are visible to every opposing party and every client in every matter you handle.

Illinois imposes no office-type requirement, so a business or suite address is permissible. The governing standard is Rule 7.1's prohibition on misleading communications — the address should not imply a staffed multi-office presence that does not exist. Confirm your own circumstances with counsel.

It depends entirely on practice area. Transactional attorneys with corporate clients may rarely meet in person. Family law, criminal defence, and personal injury attorneys meet clients constantly and at difficult moments, and the setting is something those clients notice and remember.

A business address runs $69 to $119 monthly by location. A virtual office with building access is $205. Virtual Office Plus, which adds court runs and filings, is $368. An entry private office is $650, and an associate-size office with a window closer to $1,450.

Yes. Nothing in the Illinois rules prevents it, and many attorneys do it successfully. What you give up is not compliance but proximity — to other attorneys for questions and referrals, and to a place to meet clients or staff when you need one.

Most commonly at the first hire, when you need somewhere outside your home for someone else to work and be trained. The second trigger is a practice area where clients expect to meet you somewhere, and the third is when isolation starts costing you referrals you cannot measure.

Yes, including firms with every incentive and capability to go remote. Those that shrank their footprints most aggressively after 2020 have largely been expanding again, generally citing training and culture — which is the same thing a solo gives up working alone, measured at a scale where it shows.

The attorneys I watch

Since 2013 we've provided space and services free of charge to attorneys in Chicago-Kent's incubator programme, now called the Independent Practice Initiative. More than fifty have come through.

What I find myself paying attention to isn't the number. It's that Kendra Spearman came through the programme years ago and is still a client. Alberto Gonzalez did the same. Andrew Willis is in the programme now, working out of 33 North Dearborn.

Two of them could have left the moment they started paying. They didn't.

I don't think that's about the offices. I think it's about the fact that when you walk down the hall at 33 North Dearborn you pass eleven other attorneys, and some of them know the judge you're in front of on Thursday.

You can practise law without that. Plenty of good lawyers do.

I've just never met one who, having had it, chose to go back.

Questions about any of this? 312.924.0200 or [email protected].

Ron Bockstahler is the founder and CEO of Amata Law Office Suites, a vendor member of the Chicago Bar Association, supporting Chicago-area law firms since 2002. He co-hosts The 1958 Lawyer podcast.

Amata Law Office Suites is not a law firm and does not provide legal services to the general public. This article is general information, not legal advice — professional responsibility requirements vary and your own circumstances govern.

Thirteen Years of Watching Attorneys Start Firms

In 2013, Chicago-Kent asked whether we’d give some space to attorneys in a programme they were starting.

The idea was an incubator for recent graduates going out on their own — structure, mentoring, and a place to work while they figured out whether a practice was viable. They needed somewhere for those attorneys to sit, take calls, and meet clients without signing a lease they couldn’t afford.

We said yes, and I assumed it would be a year or two of goodwill.

It’s been thirteen. More than fifty attorneys have come through. Two of the ones I’ll name below are still clients years after their programme ended, which was never the point and is the part I find most interesting.

In full disclosure, obviously: this is a programme my company supports and these are our clients. I’m telling you about it because thirteen years of watching people launch practices taught me things I couldn’t have learned any other way.

What is the Independent Practice Initiative?

It’s Chicago-Kent’s incubator for alumni going into solo or small firm practice, formerly called the Solo and Small Practice Incubator. The programme runs twelve to eighteen months, is open to alumni admitted within the past seven years, charges participants nothing, and operates out of the Conviser Law Center.

Participants get training, business development coaching, mentoring, networking, and CLE access. The law school also lines up external resources — which is where we come in.

Amata provides phone and reception services, dedicated offices, and virtual office programmes to participants free of charge for the duration of the programme. We’ve done that since 2013.

Why does an incubator exist at all?

Because law school teaches you to practise law and then hands you a business, and almost nobody prepares you for the second part. An attorney leaving a firm at least has seen how one runs. An attorney going straight out has seen nothing of intake, billing, trust accounting, or where clients come from.

That gap is the whole reason these programmes were created, and Chicago-Kent’s isn’t the only one — the Chicago Bar Foundation runs the Justice Entrepreneurs Project in the West Loop on a similar premise.

What an incubator supplies is the year nobody gets. Structure, people who’ve done it before, and permission to be inexperienced at the business part while you’re competent at the legal part.

What do the attorneys actually get from it?

Time and company, more than training. The coaching matters and the CLE access matters, but what participants actually describe is the effect of being surrounded by other people in exactly the same position, and having somewhere to be each day that isn’t their own kitchen table.

I’ve watched this closely enough to be fairly confident about it.

An attorney alone at home makes decisions alone. An attorney in a building with other attorneys asks a question in the corridor and gets an answer that would have taken three days to work out. Over a year that compounds into something real.

And the clients notice the room. A new attorney meeting a client in a proper conference room is having a different conversation than one meeting at a coffee shop, particularly in practice areas where the client is anxious.

Who stays afterwards?

More of them than I expected, and that’s the part worth noticing. Participants receive everything free while they’re enrolled. The programme ends, the free arrangement ends with it, and each of them decides whether what we provide is worth paying for out of a new practice’s money.

Kendra Spearman came through the 2016–17 cohort. She’s still a client.

Alberto Gonzalez went through the programme and is still with us several years later.

Andrew Willis is a current participant, working out of 33 North Dearborn.

Two people who could have walked away the day the subsidy stopped, and didn’t. I don’t think that’s about the offices, and I’d be suspicious of anyone who claimed it was.

I think it’s that by the end of the programme they had colleagues. Leaving meant giving that up, and they’d worked out what it was worth.

What does thirteen years of this teach you?

That the attorneys who struggle are almost never the ones who spent too much on space. They’re the ones who ran out of money before the work arrived, or who spent their first months building a website instead of telling anyone they’d launched.

A few other patterns that have held:

The ones who ask for help early do better than the ones who tough it out. Consistently, and it isn’t close.

Practice area matters less than temperament. I’ve seen good practices in areas I’d have thought were crowded, and failed ones in areas that looked wide open.

Nearly everyone underestimates the gap between doing the work and getting paid for it. They plan for billings and get caught by collections.

And the ones who build a referral network in year one are still practising in year five. The ones who relied on marketing alone mostly aren’t.

Should a new attorney apply?

If you’re a Chicago-Kent alumnus admitted within the last seven years and going out on your own, it’s hard to see the argument against it. It costs nothing, it runs twelve to eighteen months, and the alternative is doing the same thing alone.

If you’re not eligible, the thing worth taking from this is what the programme actually supplies: structure, other people, and somewhere to be. Those are available without an incubator. They just require deciding they matter.

Details are on Chicago-Kent’s website under the Independent Practice Initiative.

Frequently asked questions

Chicago-Kent’s incubator programme for alumni entering solo or small firm practice, formerly the Solo and Small Practice Incubator. It runs twelve to eighteen months, is open to alumni admitted within the past seven years, charges participants nothing, and operates from the Conviser Law Center.

Chicago-Kent alumni who were admitted to practice within the past seven years and are entering solo or small firm practice. The programme is free to participants and includes training workshops, business development coaching, mentoring, networking opportunities, and continuing legal education access.

Phone and reception services, dedicated offices, and virtual office programmes, all provided free of charge for the duration of the programme. Amata has supported Chicago-Kent incubator participants since 2013, and more than fifty attorneys have come through in that time.

Yes. The Chicago Bar Foundation runs the Justice Entrepreneurs Project in the West Loop on a broadly similar premise, offering subsidised space and structured support to lawyers who are building sustainable practices that serve modest-means clients across the Chicago area.

Participants consistently describe the effect of being around other attorneys in the same position rather than the formal training. Questions get answered in a corridor that would otherwise take days, and having somewhere to be each day changes how the year goes.

Some do. Participants receive services free while they are enrolled, so continuing afterwards means choosing to pay for something previously provided at no cost. Kendra Spearman and Alberto Gonzalez both came through the programme and remain Amata clients years afterwards.

Running out of money before the work arrives, most commonly. In thirteen years of watching attorneys launch, the ones who struggled were rarely those who spent too much on space — far more often they misjudged how long the gap between billing and collecting would be.

Why we kept doing it

People sometimes ask what we get out of thirteen years of giving services away, and they usually expect a marketing answer.

The honest one is that it started as a favour and became the best view in the business.

Fifty-odd attorneys launching practices, in our buildings, where we could see what worked. Not survey data. Not a report. Actual people, over actual years, making the actual decisions — and us close enough to notice which ones mattered.

Nearly everything I believe about how a practice gets off the ground, I learned watching that.

Some of them stayed. Most moved on, which is what’s meant to happen. A few are now sending us clients of their own, which nobody planned.

And every so often someone walks past my office who I last saw with no clients and a laptop, on their way to a hearing, and it’s hard not to think that was worth doing.

Questions about any of this? 312.924.0200 or [email protected].

Ron Bockstahler is the founder and CEO of Amata Law Office Suites, a vendor member of the Chicago Bar Association, supporting Chicago-area law firms since 2002. He co-hosts The 1958 Lawyer podcast.

Amata Law Office Suites is not a law firm and does not provide legal services to the general public. Amata is not affiliated with Chicago-Kent College of Law or Illinois Institute of Technology; it provides services to programme participants as an external resource. Programme details are subject to change — confirm current eligibility and structure with Chicago-Kent directly.