I’ve interviewed hundreds of Big Law partners as a journalist, and I’d say most are impressively boring. My problem with them is that they tend to be so linear — as if they’ve been preordained for success since utero. They’re the perfect children who always got A’s, went to top colleges and law schools, and climbed a carefully constructed ladder to partnership.
I’m much more intrigued by the ones who weren’t supposed to make it. Those who screwed up, took wrong turns, played the game miserably but somehow made it to the top.
That’s what makes Mark Mao so interesting. A San Francisco-based partner at Boies Schiller Flexner, Mao is a top trial lawyer, leading a string of high-profile cases against Google. Last year, he and David Boies secured a stunning $425.7 million verdict against the tech giant.
Yet almost nothing about Mao’s background and early career suggested this outcome. An immigrant from Taiwan, he spent much of his childhood being shuffled among relatives. He was a truant in high school. He botched law school recruiting, failed the bar exam, and spent years practicing at no-name firms.
In some ways, Mao is the anti-model minority – a self-described “peasant lawyer” whose career has been built less on pedigree than resilience, hustle, and an unusual willingness to admit his mistakes.
Below is an edited version of our conversation.
I can’t get out of my head that you call yourself a “peasant lawyer.” You make it sound like you’re toiling away in the rice paddies. Is that your brand?
I think it’s an apt description. I didn’t grow up wealthy. I’m a first-generation immigrant, and I didn’t grow up knowing the customs and norms of high society. My immigrant experience gave me resilience to pull through. Now, I don’t know if firm management or the marketing team would like me to describe myself as a “peasant lawyer.”
But you’re a partner at a high-power law firm, so do you still consider yourself an outsider?
Yes. And I think it’s one of the reasons why I can be dangerous in the courtroom – I can weaponize my empathy. It allows me to understand my peers better, both offensively and defensively, than if I had been “highborn.” It helps to remind myself that I’m no different than my peers who are judging the case – which is something I pride myself on.
You were also an outsider in your own family. I remember you told me you were abandoned by your parents as a baby. That’s rough.
Let’s not say “abandoned.” Let’s say, “they departed from me.” When my parents split, my grandfather took over, but he really gave me to live with a babysitter for six or seven years, and then I was raised by an aunt. I came to the States to be reunited with my estranged father [at age 10]. In my parents’ defense, they had me when they were in their early 20s. I met my mother for the first time when I was 18 or 19, and my half-brothers in my 30s. I have good relationships with my parents now. We’re not close, but I’ve made peace with both of them.
That certainly blows up the model minority family stereotype. As I recall, you kind of raised yourself and were a bit feral. What kept you out of trouble?
What really steadied me in high school was debate. I had a coach who in the beginning thought I didn’t have much talent because of my accent, and that really motivated me. So I tried to do well in debate, keep up with sports while still hanging out with my friends. But the delinquency was a real issue. In my senior year, I missed somewhere between 80 to 100 days of school. But it felt normal at the time.
That’s impressive. Yet you did manage to get into Berkeley for undergrad and law school. But you told me you basically screwed up law school and the early years of your career.
I didn’t even know what true high level education was until I came to Berkeley. I felt like a country mouse. As an undergrad, I was focused on not getting my butt kicked. Everything was school, basketball, and who I was dating. But that mentality was problematic for law school. Hearing what your colleagues are doing is critical as a law student and young associate. In my first year, I barely made it to the OCI [on-campus interview] process and only interviewed with six firms because I was so late. Then I crashed the opportunity I had – Baker Hostetler, where I did my 2-L summer. Baker didn’t extend me an offer, then I didn’t pass the bar. For six or seven years, I worked at firms that people definitely would not know.
So how in the world did you end up at Boies Schiller?

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