You’ve probably seen the name etched into old law books or mentioned in hushed tones during high-stakes tax disputes. Sutherland Asbill & Brennan LLP wasn't just another law firm. It was a fixture of the American legal landscape for nearly a century.
Honestly, most people today know it as the "Sutherland" half of the global giant Eversheds Sutherland. But to view it only through the lens of a 2017 merger is to miss the point entirely. The firm’s DNA—built on a weirdly perfect blend of Southern charm and aggressive Washington D.C. technicality—fundamentally changed how corporate law works in the U.S.
The Brandeis Connection and the Tax Obsession
The story starts in 1924. William Sutherland, a guy who had literally just finished clerking for Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis, decided to start a firm. He teamed up with Elbert Tuttle in Atlanta.
Think about that for a second. Brandeis was the "People’s Lawyer." He cared about the soul of the law. Sutherland took that intellectual rigor and aimed it straight at the Internal Revenue Code. Basically, while other firms were trying to be generalists, Sutherland became the Navy SEALs of tax law.
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They weren't just filing forms. They were arguing landmark cases. Take Randolph Thrower, a Sutherland partner who eventually became the IRS Commissioner. This guy argued Flora v. United States before the Supreme Court twice. He lost, then basically told the Court they were wrong, got a rehearing, and lost again—but in doing so, he defined the rules for how Americans sue for tax refunds. That’s the kind of stubborn brilliance the firm was built on.
Not Just a One-Trick Pony
By the time the mid-20th century rolled around, Sutherland Asbill & Brennan had expanded way beyond Atlanta. They set up shop in D.C. and became a massive force in energy and financial services.
If you were a massive utility company or a major insurer in the 80s or 90s, you didn't just want a lawyer. You wanted a Sutherland lawyer. Why? Because they understood the "alphabet soup" of federal agencies—the SEC, the FERC, the FTC—better than the people working inside those agencies.
- Energy: They were pioneers in the regulatory hurdles of oil and gas.
- Financial Services: They basically wrote the book on how insurance products and mutual funds are regulated.
- Intellectual Property: They didn't just hire lawyers; they hired people with PhDs in chemistry and engineering.
It was a boutique feel with Big Law muscle. At its peak before the merger, the firm had about 400 lawyers. Small compared to the 2,000-lawyer behemoths, sure. But they punched way above their weight class.
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What Really Happened in 2017?
So, why did they merge? In December 2016, the partners at Sutherland Asbill & Brennan and the UK-based Eversheds LLP voted to join forces. On February 1, 2017, the name changed to Eversheds Sutherland.
It wasn't a "rescue" merger. Sutherland was doing fine. Their Profits Per Equity Partner (PEP) was hovering around $1.02 million at the time. The reality was much simpler: the world got too big.
Clients like Microsoft, Facebook, and Coca-Cola didn't want to hire one firm for their U.S. tax issues and another for their European IP disputes. They wanted one bill and one point of contact. Sutherland had 8 offices; Eversheds had over 50. It was a marriage of convenience that actually made sense.
The firms became "equal members" in a new global entity. Mark Wasserman, who led Sutherland, stayed on as a joint CEO. It was one of the smoothest transitions in Big Law history because, frankly, both sides were already working for the same Fortune 100 companies.
What Most People Get Wrong
There’s a misconception that Sutherland "disappeared" into the merger. That’s just not true. If you walk into their Atlanta or D.C. offices today, the culture is still distinctly Sutherland.
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Vault rankings consistently place the firm in the top 5 for "Best Law Firms to Work For" and "Pro Bono" work. That’s a direct legacy of the Sutherland side. They kept that "Southern hospitality" vibe even as they went global. They still prioritize mentorship and informal training, which is rare in a world where young associates are often treated like billable-hour robots.
Why This Matters Today
If you’re a business owner, a law student, or just someone interested in how power works, the Sutherland story offers a few real-world takeaways:
- Specialization is Armor: Sutherland survived and thrived for 93 years because they were the undisputed kings of complex tax and regulatory niches. Generalists get disrupted; specialists get bought or merged on their own terms.
- Culture is a Retention Tool: In an industry with massive burnout, the Sutherland legacy proves that being "personable" and "thoughtful" (words associates actually use to describe the firm in 2026) isn't just fluff—it's a competitive advantage.
- Global is Non-Negotiable: Even the best U.S. boutique firms eventually hit a ceiling. To represent the Facebooks of the world, you have to be able to litigate in London, Dubai, and Singapore just as easily as in Atlanta.
Actionable Steps for the Legally Minded
If you are looking to engage with the legacy of Sutherland Asbill & Brennan or need their specific brand of expertise, here is what you should do:
- Identify the Niche: Don't just look for "Eversheds Sutherland." Look for the specific legacy groups in Tax, Energy, and Insurance. These are the areas where the old Sutherland expertise is most concentrated and powerful.
- Research the Partners: Many of the "Sutherland era" partners are still practicing. If you have a complex federal regulatory issue, look for attorneys who were with the firm prior to 2017—they carry the specific institutional knowledge of the D.C. and Atlanta halls.
- Study the Pro Bono Model: If you're running a firm or a business, look at Sutherland's history with the American Council of the Blind or their work in civil rights. They proved that you can be a "greedy" corporate powerhouse while still maintaining a top-tier pro bono program. It’s a blueprint for corporate social responsibility that actually works.
The name on the door might have more syllables now, but the ghost of William Sutherland is still very much in the machine.