The judiciary is uniquely insulated from scrutiny, and uniquely unaccountable to the public, I told the House Judiciary Committee’s Subcommittee on the Courts, Intellectual Property, and the Internet four years ago this month, in written testimony to advocate for the Judiciary Accountability Act (JAA). That legislation, which I’ve since helped reintroduce, would finally extend Title VII of the Civil Rights Act and other federal anti-discrimination protections to more than 30,000 exempt judiciary employees, including law clerks like myself, permanent court staff, and public defenders. Back then, I was a family law attorney trying to regain my footing after I was harassed, fired, and retaliated against during and after my judicial clerkship. Not only was I singled out for mistreatment and fired during the COVID-19 pandemic but, a year later, after securing my dream job at the U.S. Attorney’s Office (USAO), then then-judge provided a false, negative reference about me, causing the USAO to deny me a security clearance and revoke my job offer. Unlike most mistreated clerks, I not only filed a complaint, but I turned my negative experience into something positive, launching The Legal Accountability Project (LAP) to correct injustices I personally experienced as a student and clerk, including a lack of transparency in clerkship hiring and a lack of accountability for judges who abuse their power.
Over the past four years, LAP sparked a nationwide clerkship transparency and judicial accountability movement through innovative legal technology, legislative advocacy, and thought leadership. Our nationwide Clerkships Database (“Glassdoor for Judges”), which celebrates its second birthday next month, has already served over 4,000 law students and recent graduates with candid clerkship information. LAP’s Database contains over 2,000 honest reviews about more than 1,200 judges. Law clerks review the judges they worked for — anonymously if they choose; judges cannot access it, ensuring honest feedback; and students pay a small fee to access exponentially more information than they otherwise could when applying for clerkships. It’s the resource I wish existed as a Washington University School of Law student applying for clerkships a decade ago, inspired by my school’s inaction: WashU failed to warn me that the judge who mistreated me had mistreated others, and those clerks had no safe place to share their experience without fear of retribution.
LAP advocates for both the JAA and the TRUST Act, which would revise the judicial complaint process so misconduct investigations can continue even after judges step down to evade accountability — inspired by former judge Kesha Tanabe’s resignation under those circumstances, and still necessary, since former judge Mark Wolf did the same thing late last year. We’ve also urged Congress to use oversight, appropriations, and the bully pulpit to force change. While some congressional staffers may not appreciate my descriptions of their bosses’ infuriating inaction — spineless, feckless, cowardly, and overly cautious — I wouldn’t criticize if Congress did its job. The judiciary deserves blame for refusing to implement reform, but so does Congress. These are congressional problems requiring congressional solutions. Congress’ shameful failure to act by reintroducing legislation; sending oversight letters, holding a shadow hearing, and asking questions about workplace conduct when judiciary officials appear before Congress; tying the judiciary’s budget request to meaningful benchmarks for ethics reform; and using the bully pulpit to educate the public about the scope of the problem and change hearts and minds, must be called out until they do. Congress seems intent on burying their heads in the sand and basically enabling judicial misconduct, given what a light lift an oversight letter is and the variety of arguably less urgent topics members wade into instead.
Legal academia and the judiciary look very different from just four years ago. Today’s law students won’t remember a time when clerkship hiring was less than transparent. Law clerks won’t remember when negative clerkship experiences weren’t discussed, and when mistreated clerks had nowhere to go for support. The media covers harassment in the courts (though some publications remain silent) and it’s a topic of mainstream discussion. Attorneys and law school administrators no longer pretend clerkships are universally positive experiences and even provide platforms to discuss negative ones. Schools promote LAP’s Database to students — even some that used to tell students I wanted to “abolish clerkships” — and a handful even pay to subscribe. It’s a total shift in the zeitgeist.
We’ve pressured the judiciary to release data and reports they probably otherwise wouldn’t have; to make some policy changes; and to discipline some judges, even getting a few off the bench entirely. As a former mistreated clerk whose life and career were upended by the flawed systems I’m working to fix — and someone who’s impatient with the pace of change — systemic progress feels glacial. Frankly, until we have a judiciary expert in Congress — and more members who understand their oversight responsibility and care about holding those who abuse their power accountable — these problems won’t be solved from within.
There’s much more work to do. LAP has inspired some clerks to report misconduct. We also file complaints ourselves. But more must report. At least 106 law clerks endured actionable wrongful conduct in 2023, according to the judiciary’s own survey — a survey the judiciary has not repeated since then, and one for which not one single member of Congress has asked a single question or sent a single oversight letter. If even a quarter of them filed complaints, it would be a sea change that would force the judiciary’s hand — if only to avoid bad press — to invest time, hire more investigators, request more money from Congress, and either discipline those judges or make meaningful policy changes (or both). We’ve also proven whistleblowing is impactful, not shameful: those who’ve reported have been applauded, not scorned or retaliated against.
Sadly, the judiciary won’t implement reforms unless Congress forces them to, and they know Congress won’t. Spineless congressional Democrats are too cautious, too comfortable, solely obsessed with Trump, and believe constituents won’t hold them accountable for refusing to act. I’ve never encountered more cowardly political tribalism on a particularly bipartisan issue, considering both Democratic and Republican judicial appointees harass their clerks, and both liberal and conservative clerks endure mistreatment without recourse. House Judiciary Democrats won’t hold Democratic appointees, or judges who’ve ruled against the Trump administration, accountable because they fear they’d be replaced with Trump sycophants. Ironically, “Judiciary” is in the Committee’s name, yet there’s been no action for years on judicial accountability. Even when Democrats had the House majority, they did basically nothing to hold judges accountable. Democrats’ statements about accountability and transparency for Trump administration abuses of power ring hollow, when they refuse to hold judges — the most powerful and unaccountable members of our government — accountable. What hypocrisy.
The federal judiciary is at least as unaccountable as the president: exempt from many laws while wielding enormous power over the country. Yet unaccountable judges will be on the bench far longer than Trump will be in power and, given how unlikely Congress is to hold judges accountable anytime soon, judges will be above the law far longer.
Congress won’t engage even when judicial misconduct is in the news. Consider this: the clerk who filed the complaint against Judge Lydia Kay Griggsby is a constituent of a House Judiciary Democrat, yet their congresswoman refused to send an oversight letter to the Administrative Office of the U.S. Courts (AO) regarding the judiciary’s aforementioned workplace climate survey, even after I provided her office with what she’d need to simply sign her name and offered to write the letter myself. I’ve told that congresswoman and her staff that she’s not doing her job of conducting oversight over the courts. Her constituents should hold her accountable, but she probably assumes they won’t know, understand, or care. I think voters are smarter than that, and they care about corruption and abuses of power as much as kitchen table issues.
Most people understand this disturbing irony: judges interpret our laws while not subject to those same laws, committing misconduct behind the bench while adjudicating others’ misconduct in front of the bench. Judges rule on Title VII (harassment) cases while under investigation for harassment. We cannot trust judges to be fair and impartial arbiters of disputes when their own workplace conduct is so lawless.
We are not powerless. I couldn’t in good conscience encourage anyone to apply for clerkships without subscribing to LAP’s Database. Applicants should take agency over their lives and careers and inform themselves before applying. And clerks should submit surveys — positive, negative, or nuanced. LAP wants to hear everything. This is accountability through transparency. Mistreated clerks say they wish this resource existed when they were applying; and if they knew how bad their clerkships would be, they wouldn’t have accepted them. Now, they should file complaints. It’s more empowering than it is daunting.
And the public should make their voices heard regarding lawless judges. Do we want judges interpreting our laws and deciding our rights who are above the law? Whether you clerked or not, whether you’re an attorney or not — the lack of accountability in our judiciary threatens all of us. Tell your member of Congress to send an oversight letter, sign onto legislation, withhold judiciary funding until reforms are implemented, pen an op-ed, or use the bully pulpit right now. And if they won’t act, 2026 is an election year: fire them and replace them with someone who will.
It’s easy to lose sight of the cultural change LAP has created. I get frustrated when institutions with the resources to solve these problems won’t act, knowing more clerks will endure what I endured in the meantime. As someone who identified an unmet need four years ago and filled the void myself, there’s no one more motivated to create meaningful change than someone working to fix systems that personally screwed them over.
Aliza Shatzman is the President and Founder of The Legal Accountability Project, a nonprofit aimed at ensuring that law clerks have positive clerkship experiences, while extending support and resources to those who do not. She regularly writes and speaks about judicial accountability and clerkships. Reach out to her via email at Aliza.Shatzman@legalaccountabilityproject.org and follow her on Twitter @AlizaShatzman.
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