“The
judiciary
is
uniquely
insulated
from
scrutiny,
and
uniquely
unaccountable
to
the
public,”
I
told
the
House
Judiciary
Committee’s
Subcommittee
on
Courts,
Intellectual
Property,
and
the
Internet
three
years
ago
this
week,
in
congressional
testimony
to
advocate
for
the
Judiciary
Accountability
Act
(JAA),
legislation
that
would
finally
extend
federal
anti-discrimination
protections
to
more
than
30,000
exempt
federal
judiciary
employees.
The
JAA
would
extend
the
same
basic
workplace
protections
that
apply
to
most
other
workers,
to
judiciary
employees
who
support
the
daily
functioning
of
our
courts;
and
it
would
ensure
that
judges
who
interpret
federal
anti-discrimination
laws,
are
themselves
subject
to
them.
Holding
abusive
judges
accountable
for
misconduct,
and
extending
workplace
anti-discrimination
protections
to
their
clerks
and
other
employees,
are
particularly
urgent.
The
federal
judiciary
—
lacking
in
transparency,
accountability,
enforceable
ethical
restrictions
against
misconduct,
anti-discrimination
protections,
and
outside
oversight
—
is
the
most
dangerous
white-collar
workplace
in
America.
A
few
weeks
ago,
National
Public
Radio’s
year-long
investigatory
reporting
about
harassment
in
the
federal
judiciary
underscored
what
I’ve
been
sounding
the
alarm
bells
about
for
more
than
three
years,
and
others
before
me,
for
at
least
seven
years:
pervasive
bullying
and
other
abusive
conduct
in
the
federal
courts;
judicial
workplaces
where
complaints
about
harassment
fall
on
deaf
ears,
and
clerks
find
little
recourse
for
abuse;
and
the
federal
judiciary
repeatedly
signals
zero
interest
in
solving
these
problems.
NPR
spoke
with
42
judiciary
employees
over
the
past
year
who
worked
for,
and
were
mistreated
by,
two
dozen
judges
—
just
the
tip
of
the
iceberg
of
systemic
misconduct
I
hear
about.
And
yet,
the
federal
judiciary
is
willfully
ignorant
of
the
scope
of
the
problem,
pointing
to
suspiciously
low
misconduct
complaint
numbers
as
evidence
that
judges
don’t
mistreat
their
clerks:
just
seven
Employee
Dispute
Resolution
(EDR)
complaints
filed
by
law
clerks
between
2021
and
2023
(1,100
to
1,400
federal
judges
and
several
thousand
law
clerks
are
employed
by
the
federal
courts
each
year),
and
just
two
Judicial
Conduct
and
Disability
(JC&D)
Act
complaints
filed
by
judicial
employees,
total
(law
clerks
or
permanent
court
staff)
in
2024.
Anyone
who
understands
human
resources,
employment
law,
or
sexual
harassment
knows
that
a
low
number
of
workplace
complaints
does
not
mean
a
workplace
is
safe.
In
fact,
it
often
suggests
reporting
mechanisms
are
broken
or
non-existent,
and
that
employees
do
not
feel
safe
reporting
misconduct.
Therein
lies
the
problem
—
federal
judges,
tasked
with
adjudicating
Title
VII
and
other
anti-discrimination
claims,
as
well
as
investigating
their
colleagues’
judicial
misconduct
under
the
JC&D
Act
and
EDR
Plan
within
the
judiciary’s
culture
of
internal
“self-policing,”
are
not
well-versed
on
these
topics.
And
law
clerks
routinely
tell
me
they
have
not
and
would
not
report
misconduct
to
the
federal
courts,
because
they
do
not
believe
their
concerns
will
be
taken
seriously
and
robustly
investigated.
The
federal
judiciary’s
misconduct
numbers
are
a
gross
undercount.
Yet
just
three
years
ago,
it
was
considered
“taboo”
to
talk
about
sexual
harassment
in
the
federal
judiciary.
Times
are
changing,
albeit
too
slowly.
Just
a
few
months
after
my
March
2022
congressional
testimony,
I
proposed
an
audacious
goal:
nationwide
clerkship
transparency.
In
June
2022,
I
launched
The
Legal
Accountability
Project
(LAP),
the
first
and
only
nonprofit
working
full-time
to
ensure
that
judicial
law
clerks
have
positive
clerkship
experiences,
while
extending
support
and
resources
to
those
who
do
not.
Our
first
bold
initiative?
A
nationwide
Clerkships
Database
(“Glassdoor
for
Judges,”)
where
judicial
law
clerks
nationwide
could
review
their
powerful,
unaccountable
bosses,
and
law
students
nationwide
could,
for
the
first
time,
read
thousands
of
reviews
to
identify
great
bosses
to
apply
to,
and
abusive
judges
and
poor
managers
to
avoid.
In
the
three
years
since
I
first
shared
my
abusive
clerkship
experience
with
members
of
Congress,
I
have
sparked
a
nationwide
clerkship
transparency
movement
and
encouraged
many
in
the
legal
profession
—
law
students,
law
school
administrators,
law
clerks,
practicing
attorneys,
and
even
some
judges
—
to
recognize
systemic
problems
in
the
federal
judiciary.
These
challenges
stem
from
the
courts’
inability
to
self-regulate
and
unwillingness
to
self-discipline.
Many
thought
LAP’s
Clerkships
Database
couldn’t
be
done.
A
few
thought
it
shouldn’t
be
done.
Law
school
clerkship
advisors
told
me
dismissively
that,
“Harassment
doesn’t
happen
in
clerkships;
it’s
just
women
adjusting
to
their
first
jobs;”
and
“We’re
blessed
to
work
with
only
good
judges
—
all
our
alumni
have
positive
clerkship
experiences;”
and
“I
don’t
need
your
Project;
I
know
about
all
the
judges.”
And,
from
my
alma
mater,
Washington
University
in
St.
Louis
School
of
Law
—
that
knew
at
the
time
I
accepted
my
D.C.
Courts
clerkship,
that
the
judge
who
mistreated
me,
had
mistreated
others
before
me,
but
opted
not
to
share
that
information
with
me,
and
which
cancelled
four
LAP
events
in
less
than
three
years,
including
one
with
a
federal
judge
who’s
a
WashU
Law
alum:
it’s
WashU’s
“official
policy”
not
to
share
negative
information
with
students
about
abusive
judges
to
avoid;
and
they
do
not
“believe”
I
was
mistreated
and
retaliated
against
during
and
after
my
clerkship.
Now,
tone-deaf,
ridiculous
comments
like
these
roll
off
my
back.
But
for
many
mistreated
clerks
who
contact
their
law
schools
for
advice
and
support,
they
perpetuate
the
broken
status
quo
—
a
culture
of
silence
and
fear
—
that
would
likely
dissuade
someone
who’d
just
been
fired
or
retaliated
against
by
a
powerful
judge
from
taking
further
accountability
steps.
It’s
one
reason
why
law
schools
are
part
of
the
problem.
Fortunately,
they
just
galvanized
me
to
work
harder,
dig
deeper
into
law
schools’
misleading
clerkship
advising
and
misaligned
incentives,
and
prove
them
wrong.
Where
did
I
get
the
idea
for
LAP’s
Clerkships
Database?
Throughout
the
spring
of
2022,
before
I
launched
LAP,
I
spoke
with
dozens
of
clerkship
advisors
and
deans
about
resources
they
use
to
help
students
identify
positive
clerkship
experiences
and
avoid
abusive
judges
—
that’s
the
context
in
which
many
of
their
bizarre
comments
were
made
—
to
understand
information
gaps
and
how
I
could
fill
the
void.
I
learned
the
“gold
standard”
for
judicial
clerkship
advising
just
three
years
ago
were
internal
law
school
clerkships
databases,
where
law
clerk
alumni
submitted
often
less-than-fully-forthcoming
surveys
about
their
clerkship
interview
and
work
experiences,
which
were
accessible
to
applicants
at
those
schools
with
student
login
credentials.
Siloing
off
information
school
by
school
creates
countless
problems.
(And,
of
course,
only
a
handful
of
top
schools
maintain
such
databases.)
Giving
law
schools
the
benefit
of
the
doubt
(which
some
deserve;
many
do
not),
under
the
best
circumstances,
law
schools
are
restricted
in
their
information-gathering
and
dissemination
by
who
their
alumni
have
clerked
for
in
the
past,
and
clerks’
willingness
to
submit
clerkship
surveys
about
their
experiences
to
their
schools.
Frankly,
we
do
not
live
under
the
best
of
circumstances.
Clerks
fear
retaliation
by
the
judges
who
mistreated
them
and
reputational
harm
in
the
legal
profession
for
“talking
bad”
about
federal
judges,
especially
when
they
must
attach
their
names
to
their
surveys
and
without
assurances
the
judges
they
clerked
for
will
not
read
their
reviews.
Compounding
this
fear,
mistreated
clerks
are
dissuaded
by
their
law
schools
and
legal
mentors
from
putting
their
negative
experiences
in
writing.
Law
schools
signal
that
all
their
alumni
have
positive
experience
and,
if
your
clerkship
experience
was
negative,
they’d
prefer
not
to
know
about
it.
Furthermore,
there
will
always
be
gaps
in
schools’
information.
New
judges
are
appointed
and
elected
each
year.
A
school
in
New
Haven
probably
doesn’t
know
much
about
state
court
clerkships
in
Nebraska.
A
state
school
in
Nebraska
likely
doesn’t
send
too
many
clerks
to
the
Second
Circuit.
But
if
each
school’s
alumni
could
seamlessly
share
information
with
the
other
school’s
students,
more
students,
clerkship
advisors,
and
judges
would
benefit,
since
transparency
and
more
information
generally
help
all
parties
to
identify
positive
working
relationships.
A
nationwide
Centralized
Clerkships
Database,
where
any
clerk
can
submit
a
survey
and
any
clerkship
applicant
(but
no
judges)
can
read
the
surveys,
solves
all
these
problems.
And
to
ensure
candor
in
submissions,
clerks
can
be
anonymous
in
LAP’s
Database
if
they
choose.
After
that
first
fall,
I
had
a
decision
to
make.
LAP
had
embarked
on
a
nationwide
“Fixing
Our
Clerkship
System”
tour
(LAP’s
“Law
School
Roadshow”),
visiting
dozens
of
schools,
whipping
up
student
support,
and
pissing
off
school
administrators
nationwide.
Perhaps
unsurprisingly,
law
schools
weren’t
buying
what
LAP
was
selling.
They
were
nervous,
skeptical,
and
sometimes
even
hostile
at
the
assertion
that
their
clerkship
advising
and
resources
were
insufficient,
let
alone
that
a
third-party
outsider,
just
a
few
years
removed
from
an
abusive
clerkship
herself,
could
do
it
better.
An
advisor
told
me,
“If
you
build
it,
they
will
come.”
So,
we
did.
And
two
years
ago,
in
April
2023,
LAP
began
collecting
surveys
through
our
online
platform.
Clerks
understood
the
assignment.
LAP
received
hundreds
of
post-clerkship
survey
submissions
that
first
year,
and
the
feedback
was
incredible.
Clerks
—
both
those
who
enjoyed
their
clerkships,
and
those
who
did
not
—
told
me
what
a
“much-needed”
and
“long
overdue”
resource
LAP
was
building.
They’d
never
had
a
place
to
share
their
candid
clerkship
experiences
before.
A
few
months
later,
in
the
winter
of
2023,
I
faced
another
decision.
Law
schools
still
weren’t
convinced
by
LAP’s
proposition
that
they
pay
$5
per
student
per
year
to
make
this
resource
available
to
all
their
students.
So,
LAP
decided,
screw
the
law
schools!
We
pivoted
and
prepared
to
launch
the
Clerkships
Database
as
an
individual
subscriber
model,
charging
a
small
fee
for
any
student
or
recent
graduate
to
access
the
platform.
LAP
built
the
plane
while
flying
it,
because
we
were
heading
into
another
clerkship
application
cycle
where,
if
students
went
without
candid
clerkship
information,
they’d
be
vulnerable
to
both
gaslighting
by
their
law
schools
that
any
clerkship
is
better
than
no
clerkship
at
all,
and
to
mistreatment
by
judges.
So,
we
processed
hundreds
of
registrations
by
hand
while
we
rebuilt
the
platform.
Each
day,
we
downloaded
a
list
of
registrants
at
7
a.m.;
highlighted
users
in
spreadsheets
as
we
processed
them
with
a
different
color
each
day
(we
ran
out
of
colors);
reviewed
hundreds
of
user
agreements
manually;
and
emailed
hundreds
of
subscribers
individually.
It
was
a
Herculean,
but
worthwhile,
effort.
Then,
in
early
April
2024,
clerkship
hiring
changed
forever.
LAP
launched
our
database
for
the
first
cohort
of
student
users
(around
500
to
start,
and
several
hundred
more
throughout
the
spring),
with
a
platform
containing
around
750
post-clerkship
surveys.
Last
year,
LAP
served
nearly
a
thousand
users
from
nearly
ever
U.S.
law
school.
We
also
welcomed
our
first
law
review
subscribers,
the
Harvard
Law
Review
and
New
York
University
Law
Review,
who
subscribed
on
behalf
of
their
editorial
boards.
This
school
year,
LAP
launched
the
Clerkships
Database
on
August
1,
2024,
to
a
second
cohort
of
users
—
bigger
and
better
than
last
year.
LAP’s
database
now
contains
more
than
1,500
reviews
about
more
than
1,000
federal
and
state
judges,
representing
every
state,
every
federal
circuit,
and
most
of
the
94
U.S.
district
courts.
We’ve
served
over
2,000
law
students
and
recent
graduates:
this
number
climbs
every
day.
And,
we
welcomed
our
first
law
school
subscriber
—
Illinois
Law
—
whose
students
do
not
have
to
pay
individually
to
access
the
database.
We
hope
more
schools
will
subscribe
on
behalf
of
their
students
during
the
2025-26
school
year,
but
we’re
not
waiting
on
them
to
help
their
students.
LAP
currently
serves
five
law
review
subscribers
—
Harvard
and
New
York
University,
as
well
as
Texas,
George
Washington,
and
Southern
California.
And,
while
attempting
to
onboard
our
first
student
organization
subscriber,
a
kerfuffle
with
Yale
Law
School
—
when
they
foolishly
barred
student
organizations
from
subscribing
to
LAP’s
database
using
student
funds
—
provided
an
incredible
opportunity
to
broaden
our
efforts
and
serve
hundreds
more
students
at
a
reduced
rate.
When
the
legal
profession
learned
of
Yale
Law
School’s
misbehavior,
several
donors
kindly
offered
to
cover
the
database
cost
for
Yale
Law
students.
What
started
at
Yale
did
not
stop
there:
since
then,
generous
donors
covered
the
database
cost
for
some
—
and,
at
one
law
school,
all
—
students
at
Harvard,
Yale,
Columbia,
New
York
University,
UChicago,
Vanderbilt,
and
Houston
Law.
(If
you
attend
one
of
these
schools
and
haven’t
registered
for
free
database
access,
finish
reading,
then
visit
survey.legalaccountabilityproject.org
to
register!)
LAP
is
far
more
than
a
legal
technology
platform,
though
I
never
would
have
imagined,
when
I
graduated
from
Washington
University
in
St.
Louis
School
of
Law
a
few
years
ago,
that
I’d
be
an
award-winning
legal
technology
founder.
LAP
has
taken
the
judiciary,
legal
academia,
and
legal
profession
by
storm,
bridging
unlikely
alliances
across
the
ideological
spectrum
and
building
consensus
around
historically
intractable
social
problems.
The
second
clerkship
application
cycle
where
students
nationwide
benefit
from
LAP’s
database
is
underway.
Thousands
of
clerkship
applicants
will
avoid
abusive
judges
and
bad
bosses.
But
some
applicants
don’t
know
about
LAP’s
database
yet.
Others
will
read
negative
reviews
and
think,
“I
can
handle
it,”
or
“It
won’t
happen
to
me.”
Some
applicants
won’t
heed
my
warnings:
Don’t
clerk
for
someone
who
isn’t
reviewed
positively
in
LAP’s
database.
Clerks
are
intentional
about
submitting
negative
reviews.
And
mistreated
clerks
routinely
tell
me
if
they
knew
how
bad
the
clerkship
would
be,
they
would
not
have
accepted
it.
Sadly,
some
applicants
have
been
misled
by
their
law
schools
and
mentors
to
believe
that
any
clerkship
is
better
than
no
clerkship
at
all;
and
they’ll
attempt
to
endure
abuse.
It
is
disingenuous
to
discuss
judicial
clerkships
without
underscoring
the
challenges
clerks
might
face
and
the
inadequate
options
available
if
they
are
mistreated.
Yet
law
schools,
often
the
gatekeepers
and
facilitators
of
judicial
clerkships,
have
not
taken
the
harassment
crisis
in
the
federal
courts
seriously.
Several
years
and
too
many
judiciary
scandals
later,
little
has
changed
on
campus.
Schools
still
won’t
subscribe
to
LAP’s
Clerkships
Database
on
behalf
of
their
students;
some
won’t
even
share
information
about
LAP
with
students.
Clerkship
advisors
refuse
to
warn
students
about
abusive
judges.
They
tout
their
misleading
and
uniformly
positive
internal
clerkships
databases.
They
lionize
abusive
judges
during
campus
visits
and
on
social
media.
And
they
funnel
students
into
abusive
clerkships
to
increase
their
clerkship
numbers
and
maintain
their
coveted
judiciary
relationships
—
particularly
with
judges
who
are
law
school
alumni
—
at
the
expense
of
student
and
alumni
well-being.
Fortunately,
even
while
law
schools
continue
to
drag
their
heels,
everyone
—
law
students,
law
clerks,
and
law
school
alumni
—
can
help
advance
this
vision
of
clerkship
transparency.
Students
should,
of
course,
register
for
database
access.
But
don’t
stop
there:
urge
your
law
school
to
subscribe
on
your
behalf.
You
are
powerful:
circulate
a
sign-on
letter,
make
a
public
statement,
and
meet
with
your
administration
to
explain
why
this
resource
is
valuable.
Law
clerks:
share
your
clerkship
experience
in
LAP’s
database
with
thousands
of
aspiring
law
clerks
and
contribute
to
this
nationwide
transparency
movement.
And
if
you’re
a
lawyer
in
a
position
to
donate
on
behalf
of
students
at
your
alma
mater,
this
is
an
incredible
opportunity
to
directly
support
students
with
tangible
immediate
benefit.
It’s
easy
to
feel
hopeless
and
enraged
during
these
dark
and
divisive
political
times.
Public
service
(and
public
servants),
civil
society,
and
nonprofits
are
under
attack.
But
considering
the
incredible
change
LAP
has
created
in
just
a
few
short
years,
the
time
is
now
for
third-party,
independent
solutions
to
flourish.
When
LAP
launched
our
Clerkships
Database
last
year,
some
warned
about
a
parade
of
horribles.
Because
those
who
oppose
transparency
and
accountability
will
always
find
a
reason
to
justify
their
hollow
claims.
Instead,
LAP’s
database
has
become
ubiquitous
in
the
legal
profession
in
just
one
year.
Students
are
finally
applying
for
clerkships
with
the
confidence
they’ll
be
treated
fairly
and
respectfully.
Some
judges
are
getting
more,
better
applicants
(and
the
abusive
ones,
fewer).
Students
are
“doing
their
research”
thoroughly,
at
their
leisure,
throughout
the
year,
rather
than
frantically
in
June
during
peak
clerkship-hiring
season.
LAP
has
empowered
thousands
of
law
students
and
recent
graduates
nationwide
to
be
discerning
consumers
of
clerkship
information
and
opportunities,
in
an
area
of
the
legal
profession
that
was
historically
shrouded
in
mystery.
And
countless
mistreated
clerks
finally
know
they’re
not
alone,
and
that
they
have
agency,
too.
You’d
be
foolish
to
argue
against
transparency,
just
like
you’d
be
foolish
to
bet
against
LAP.
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 [email protected] and
follow
her
on
Twitter
@AlizaShatzman.