After battling mental illness in silence, he's now leading the charge for change at large law firms
As general counsel at Gowling WLG (Canada) LLP, Michael Herman had decades of experience in high-stakes legal and corporate environments, navigating complex deals and high-pressure situations. But in 2016, after a lifetime of pushing through stress and anxiety, he found himself at a breaking point. What began as physical health concerns – atrial fibrillation, chronic fatigue, digestive problems – soon revealed a deeper truth: he was in the grips of severe depression.
“I just hit a wall,” he says. “I just had no energy. I had no ability to concentrate, no ability to even think.”
Initially, he took a short leave from work, assuming rest would solve the problem. It didn’t. When he returned, it became painfully clear that something much deeper was wrong. Then, one morning, standing on his balcony with a cup of coffee, he had an intrusive thought that changed everything.
“The sun was shining. We have a nice view from our balcony over the Don Valley,” he says. “And I thought… ‘What’s the point?’ … And somehow, in that moment, I recognized that what I really was dealing with was not physical. The physical was a consequence of the emotional and the mental.”
That realization was both terrifying and clarifying. It forced him to confront the reality of his situation and set him on a path toward recovery – a path that involved therapy, medication, mindfulness practices, and, crucially, support from those around him.
For most of his life, Herman had internalized the message that struggling was something to be endured privately. “The messages I got when I wasn’t doing well that were both implicit and explicit… were that when you’re having a difficult time, you just keep pushing through,” he says. “And that’s what I would do. I would just push through and… eventually things would resolve.”
That mindset, he realizes, was a product of self-stigma – the deeply ingrained belief that needing help was a personal failing. “I was one of these people who always said I don’t stigmatize those who may have depression or anxiety or other mental health challenges,” he says. “I don’t hold it against them. I don’t think any less of them. I don’t think they’re weak. I don’t think they’re incapable. What I didn’t realize is that, when it came to me, I bought into [the stigma] completely, ... I was weak. I was to blame. I was not worthy of getting help.”
That self-stigma turned into what he says Brené Brown famously described as shame that “corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.” His recovery depended on challenging that belief. “I had to begin with, how was I going to look at and work with that self-stigma and that shame,” he says. “Not easy to do, but I had to do it.”
Herman’s personal breakthrough soon turned into a professional commitment. As he stabilized, returning to work in a flexible, phased-in approach, he made a promise to himself: if he got through this, he would share his story.
“I felt a certain responsibility to do it,” he says. His other motivation was “if I can influence, by talking about my experience, one person to not struggle in silence but to reach out for help, whatever that looks like for them, then that’s a success.”
The first real test came when his firm asked him to send an email about a mental health initiative. They provided him with a draft – polished, professional, but impersonal. He rewrote it.
“I said, I’m writing to you not as Michael Herman, partner and general counsel of the firm, but as Michael Herman [the] person,” he says. “And I, for the first time, disclosed in this email my experience and why, therefore, this initiative was so important.”
That morning, he hesitated. “I feel like I had my finger over the cursor send for about 15 minutes,” he says. “It was probably about three seconds, but [I thought to myself], ‘Do I know what I’m doing here?’ But I pressed send.”
Two hours later, he opened his inbox. “My email box had exploded,” he says. “And what was so moving to me and so affirming in the decision I had made was that I, for the first time, realized just how many people are either affected directly [by] challenges that they’re experiencing… and or have loved ones or close friends or other family members [who] are going through really difficult times.”
Herman eventually shared his story in “The Right Not to Remain Silent: The Truth About Mental Health in The Legal Profession,” recently published by LexisNexis.
Herman’s advocacy didn’t stop with his own firm. He reached out to other major law firms to start a conversation about mental health.
“In early 2021, I reached out to contacts at all of the large law firms asking to be connected with someone within the firm that was either responsible for [or] a champion for mental health issues,” he says. “The perspective that everyone has brought to the collaboration is that mental health is not a competitive issue, and we should be sharing with each other what we think is helpful and the ‘good, the bad, and the ugly’ about initiatives and programs firms have run.”
One key lesson from those conversations was that awareness alone wasn’t enough. Firms needed to take concrete steps to create safe, supportive environments.
“Leaders need to model the behaviour as best they can,” he says. “People within an organization are looking to leaders to show that it’s okay to talk about these things.”
For those considering going public about their mental health struggles, Herman offers both encouragement and caution.
“Yes, it’s scary,” he says. “Yes, you’re putting yourself into a vulnerable position. Yes, you have to have a certain amount of trust in the person that you’re going to reach out to… but no one should have to struggle in silence.”
He acknowledges the uncertainty – particularly in high-stakes professions like law, where vulnerability can feel like a liability.
“The outcomes are uncertain. I get that,” he says. “But in virtually every case where I’ve worked with someone who’s come to me and reached out… it’s worked out well for that person.”
For those in environments where they don’t feel safe opening up, he recommends finding support outside the workplace – whether through professional associations, peer support programs, or trusted friends and family.
“The key is to reach out for help,” he says. “Because when we struggle alone, when we struggle in silence alone, invariably, it’s going to end badly.”
Despite his progress, Herman is under no illusion that his journey is over.
“As far as I’m concerned, the recovery will go on for the rest of my life,” he says. “I’m never, … ‘there.’ The journey continues.”
But if his experience can help one person avoid the kind of isolation he once felt, then it’s worth it.
“I remember, this was the first time I spoke publicly,” he says. “Later that afternoon, I got an email… [from] someone [who] said, ‘I’ve really been struggling… I’ve been afraid to reach out for help. I listened to you. I was in the room today. I didn’t come up to you afterwards. I left the room, and I went out [and] I call[ed]… and said, I need help.’”
He pauses. “That email was what made everything worthwhile.”
Editor's Note: This article was updated to clarify that a quote was attributed to Brené Brown.
