Every January, family lawyers dust off the same press release: Divorce Day is coming. Phones will ring. Marriages will collapse. The nation will wake up and file.
It rarely happens.
The data doesn’t support it. Courts aren’t flooded. Clerks aren’t barricading doors. But the myth survives because it’s useful. It turns personal misery into a seasonal content strategy.
And it looks faintly ridiculous.
The profession complains about being misunderstood, mistrusted, and stereotyped. Then it eagerly markets itself like a cut-price tarot service: “Your relationship is doomed. Book now.”
Clients are not idiots. They can smell theatre. They already assume lawyers are expensive. Now they’re invited to assume lawyers are also opportunistic.
There’s nothing wrong with explaining seasonal trends. There is something faintly grubby about manufacturing them.
Law is meant to trade in evidence. “Divorce Day” trades in vibes.
The irony is that family law doesn’t need gimmicks. It deals in the most human of crises. It commands relevance without spectacle.
Yet every January, the circus returns. Not because it’s true. Because it’s clickable.
