There were other signs, too. Take his tweets from March: Does a reliable, steadfast attorney with his clients’ best interests at heart invest his social capital in making a hashtag that makes no sense happen? Does he make a custom hat emblazoned with that hashtag and wear it in front of the paparazzi the day before his client appears on 60 Minutes in an interview that could make or break her case? A lawyer who cares more about pursuing justice than maintaining his place in front of the cameras does not tweet “time to buckle up” when his settlement offer is refused, because he’s not out there looking for a bumpy ride. He doesn’t tweet “#checkmate” before a verdict comes down, because he can’t promise a win. He doesn’t send out the link to the page his client is using to crowdfund his fees—not when he’s just won a historically gigantic $454 million class-action verdict and he’s representing a private citizen who’s going up against a sitting president. If you’re not going to go pro bono then, then when?

While it’s fair to call his recent loss of esteem a downfall, Avenatti should never have risen to such great heights in the first place. A resistance folk hero with staying power would have recognized that Daniels’ story, not his own, should remain at the center of any publicity push. But this is a guy who dropped his motion to represent Daniels in the federal investigation of Michael Cohen rather than give up his ability to trash Cohen on cable news. Someone that deeply in love with his own voice will never be inclined to make room for someone else’s.