Politico
is
compiling
a
full
list
of
all
federal
district
court
judges
who
have
ruled
on
the
Trump
administration’s
policy
of
“mandatory
detention”
pending
deportation
in
immigration
cases.
Of
the
411
judges
who
have
thus
far
heard
these
cases,
how
many
have
ruled
against
the
administration’s
position?
Hint:
Judges
appointed
by
Ronald
Reagan,
George
Bush,
Bill
Clinton,
George
W.
Bush,
Barrack
Obama,
Donald
Trump,
and
Joe
Biden
have
all
rejected
the
policy.
Of
all
the
reasons
to
complain
about
lawyers,
their
fashion
choices
are
on
the
lower
end
of
the
list.
It
is
still
on
the
list
though
—
the
popularity
of
the
“Look
at
my
lawyer,
dog,
I’m
going
to
jail”
meme
attests
to
that.
Diverting
from
an
off-the-rack
suit
and
some
Allen
Edmonds
shoes
isn’t
usually
a
cause
for
concern,
but
a
defense
attorney’s
t-shirt
so
moved
a
federal
judge
that
he
declared
the
case
a
mistrial.
The
Guardian
has
coverage:
A
federal
judge
in
Texas
declared
a
mistrial
on
Tuesday
after
a
defense
lawyer
wore
a
shirt
in
court
with
images
from
the
civil
rights
movement,
delaying
a
closely
watched
case
in
which
the
Trump
administration
is
accusing
a
group
of
protesters
of
being
terrorists
and
says
they
are
part
of
a
“North-Texas
antifa
cell”. … Pittman
claimed
the
shirt
sent
a
political
message
that
could
bias
jurors
and
equate
the
actions
of
the
defendants
in
the
case
with
that
of
the
civil
rights
movement,
adding
that
the
decision
to
wear
the
shirt
may
have
been
intentional.
Pittman
also
argued
that
the
defense
lawyers
would
be
outraged
if
prosecutors
were
to
wear
shirts
that
showed
pro-ICE
or
pro-Trump
imagery
in
front
of
a
jury.
Not
very
Black
History
Month
of
you,
judge.
To
be
fair,
the
judge’s
rationale
holds
water.
If
we
still
have
jury
trials
come
when
the
big
names
in
the
Epstein
files
face
justice,
Above
the
Law
would
be
among
the
first
to
cry
foul
if
the
defense
team
pulls
up
in
sweaters
that
say,
“How
Young
Is
15
Really?”or
“Where’s
the
trial
for
Hilary’s
emails?”
Even
if
the
shirt
didn’t
sway
the
jurors
—
one
interviewed
juror
didn’t
even
notice
the
shirt
and
another
saw
it,
but
didn’t
think
it
would
cloud
their
judgement,
an
ounce
of
prevention
and
all
that.
While
we
are
on
the
topic,
here
are
some
other
fashion
choices
that
may
have
justified
a
mistrial:
It
may
be
in
the
interests
of
justice
for
all
of
the
attorneys
to
agree
on
white
button
down
shirts.
No
ties
either
—
don’t
want
to
risk
red
or
blue
silk
swaying
the
fragile
minds
of
the
jury.
Chris
Williams
became
a
social
media
manager
and
assistant
editor
for
Above
the
Law
in
June
2021.
Prior
to
joining
the
staff,
he
moonlighted
as
a
minor
Memelord™
in
the
Facebook
group Law
School
Memes
for
Edgy
T14s
.
He
endured
Missouri
long
enough
to
graduate
from
Washington
University
in
St.
Louis
School
of
Law.
He
is
a
former
boatbuilder
who
is
learning
to
swim, is
interested
in
critical
race
theory,
philosophy,
and
humor,
and
has
a
love
for
cycling
that
occasionally
annoys
his
peers.
You
can
reach
him
by
email
at [email protected]
and
by
tweet
at @WritesForRent.
I
am
not
breaking
news
to
anyone
by
pointing
out
that
Donald
Trump
consistently
disparages
information
that
he
thinks
makes
him
look
bad.
Meanwhile,
any
data
that
he
thinks
casts
him
in
a
positive
light
is
inevitably
the
greatest,
the
best,
the
most
accurate
data
imaginable.
Given
that
persistent
inflation
has
been
a
chief
national
concern,
it’s
no
surprise
that
Trump
has
taken
aim
at
members
of
the
Federal
Reserve’s
governing
board
for
the
grave
crime
of
recognizing
that
inflation
has
remained
stubbornly
above
the
Fed’s
2%
target
during
the
first
year
of
Trump’s
second
term.
It
is
impossible
to
dredge
up
every
inane
insult
and
inaccurate
accusation.
It’s
probably
enough
to
recollect
that
Trump
is
trying
to
fire
Lisa
Cook
from
the
Fed
Board
of
Governors
for
made-up
nonsense
while
he
is
simultaneously,
in
an
apparent
attempt
to
win
gold
at
the
irony
Olympics,
threatening
Fed
Chair
Jerome
Powell
with
indictment
for
planning
building
renovations
that
are
too
fancy.
When
it
comes
to
the
nation’s
monthly
jobs
report,
Trump’s
astounding
hyperbole
dates
all
the
way
back
to
his
first
term.
Suffice
it
to
say,
“the
numbers
are
great”
is
among
the
tamest
comments
he’s
made
about
the
job
market
while
he’s
been
in
office,
always
regardless
of
the
reality
on
the
ground.
Trump
purged
the
Bureau
of
Labor
Statistics
in
2025,
purportedly
because
they
made
too
many
large
revisions
of
employment
data,
but
the
real
message
was
clear:
put
out
data
that
Trump
likes
or
lose
your
job
as
a
BLS
bean
counter.
There
were
great
fears
at
the
time
that
Trump’s
attacks
on
the
people
who
produce,
interpret,
and
act
upon
this
nation’s
economic
data
would
lead
to
untrustworthy
information
coming
from
official
government
sources.
Republicans
claim
to
like
to
let
the
market
decide.
Just
a
month
and
a
half
into
2026,
it
seems
the
market
has
officially
come
out
with
its
verdict:
the
numbers
produced
by
Trump’s
BLS
are
dogsh*t.
On
February
11,
the
BLS
released
its
January
jobs
report.
According
to
this
report,
nonfarm
payrolls
surged
by
130,000
last
month.
This
was
more
than
double
economists’
consensus
estimate
of
55,000
positions.
Unemployment
also
reportedly
ticked
down.
Faced
with
such
stellar
employment
numbers,
one
might
expect
the
stock
market
to
have
had
a
strong
day.
Yet,
the
S&P
500,
Dow
Jones
Industrial
Average,
and
Nasdaq
composite
all
ended
slightly
lower
at
the
close
of
trading
on
February
11.
Later
last
week,
on
Friday,
the
BLS
announced
that
annual
inflation
had
cooled
to
2.4%
for
January,
down
from
the
previous
reading
of
2.7%
and
below
economists’
expectations.
Once
again,
rather
than
reacting
positively
to
what
seemed
to
be
unequivocally
good
economic
news,
stocks
were
largely
unmoved.
The
S&P
500
and
the
Dow
Jones
each
eked
out
a
0.1%
gain
for
the
day,
while
the
Nasdaq
fell
by
0.2%.
Overall,
it
was
the
worst
week
so
far
of
2026
for
the
stock
market.
The
stock
market
is
incredibly
complex,
and
any
claim
tying
its
performance
(or
lack
thereof)
to
a
specific
news
event
should
be
viewed
with
healthy
skepticism.
That
being
said,
last
week
was
relatively
calm
in
terms
of
the
Trump
administration
excreting
other
potentially
market-moving
outrages,
so
it’s
possible
to
view
these
employment
and
inflation
numbers
in
a
little
more
isolation.
Furthermore,
inflation
and
employment
are
two
of
the
key
economic
concerns
of
this
era
that
supposedly
led
to
Trump’s
election
in
the
first
place.
If
traders
actually
believed
the
numbers
that
just
came
out
of
this
BLS,
showing
a
much
better
employment
situation
and
lower
inflation
than
economists
predicted,
the
stock
market
would
not
have
had
its
worst
week
of
the
year.
Trump
meddled
with
the
BLS,
and
it
appears
to
have
had
his
intended
result:
rosier-looking
economic
numbers.
But
the
market
hasn’t
been
fooled.
Stock
traders
appear
to
now
be
acting
more
on
real
data
that
they
can
verify
and
less
on
Trump-induced
lies.
Hopefully
the
corporate
media
soon
learns
to
follow
suit.
Jonathan
Wolf
is
a
civil
litigator
and
author
of Your
Debt-Free
JD (affiliate
link).
He
has
taught
legal
writing,
written
for
a
wide
variety
of
publications,
and
made
it
both
his
business
and
his
pleasure
to
be
financially
and
scientifically
literate.
Any
views
he
expresses
are
probably
pure
gold,
but
are
nonetheless
solely
his
own
and
should
not
be
attributed
to
any
organization
with
which
he
is
affiliated.
He
wouldn’t
want
to
share
the
credit
anyway.
He
can
be
reached
at [email protected].
Once
upon
a
time,
there
were
two
classes
of
lawyers
in
law
firms:
partners
and
associates.
The
associates
typically
came straight out
of
law
schools,
worked
for
5-7
years
under
the tutelage of
the
partners,
and
then most
of
them
became
partners.
The
ones
who didn’t
would often
end
up
in-house
as
clients,
so
it
behooved
everyone
to
treat
each
other
with
some
respect.
The
partners
shared
in
the
profits
and
decision-making
and
were generally at
the
firm
of
the
rest
of
their
career.
2026
Law
Firm
Reality
That
time
is
long
since
gone. Today,
partners change firms
like
prize
college
athletes willy-nilly
transfer
to schools offering a
better
deal.
Partners
that
don’t perform are
“de-equitized”
and
either
demoted
or
asked
to
leave.
And
there
is
a
new
class
of
lawyers
—
the
“nonequity “partner.
Nonequity
partners are
PINOs
—
partners
in
name
only.
They
typically
don’t
share
in
profits
and
have
no
say
in
decision-making.
They
are
in
fact employees of
firms,
just
like
associates.
The
only
benefit
they
get
is
the
ability
to
hold
themselves
out
as
“partners”
to
clients,
itself
a sleight of
hand
designed
to
make
clients think
they
are getting something
they
aren’t,
a real partner
working
on
their
case.
Why the Nonequity?
The
profession,
er,
business,
got
into
this
in
the
great
expansion
of
lawyers
that
began
in
the
80s. All
of sudden,
firms
were
faced
with
large
classes
of
associates
that
were
up
for partnership.
They
were
also
faced
with
more distinctions in
talent
within
associate
ranks.
More
than
that,
as
the
law
became
more
of
a
business
and
less
a
profession,
talent
was more
and
more
defined
as
origination
of
business,
profitability, and
hours
worked.
There
was
less
room
for
talented
lawyers
needed
to
work
the
cases
who
didn’t
necessarily
have
business origination skills. But
the
law
firms
and
equity
partners
thought
they
couldn’t
afford
to
lose
these
“worker
bees,”
as
they
called
them.
Hence
a
new
category
that
cost
the
equity
partners
little.
And
there
was
another
factor.
Since
partners
share
profits,
it
stands to
reason
that
the
fewer
partners
to
share
with,
the
greater
the
share
to
each.
All
of
this
culminated
in
the
new
nonequity
class.
Today,
it is standard
in
most
large
law
firms
for
there
to
be
a
large group of
these nonequity partners
—
workers
with
little
voice,
who
could
be
fired
at
will
(even
in
today’s
times, de-equitizing an
equity
partner
requires
a
bit
of
hard
analysis),
and
who
were
expected
to
continue
to
work
like
associates
to
keep
their
heads
above
water.
So how’s
this
idea
working out
for
the
lawyers
caught
in
the
middle?
So,How’s that
Working
Out
for
You?
Equity
partners
would
say this
is
a
good
thing.
It
enables
younger
lawyers
who
can’t
quite
meet
partnership
standards
to
not
be unilaterally dumped
into
the
job
market.
It
assures
them
a
continued
job
(at
least as
long
as they
perform).
It
enables
the
firm
to
keep
the
talent
they
need
to serve the clients.
But
what
do
the nonequity partners
have
to
say? According to
a recent
article, in a flash Law.com
survey
of
1,345
attorneys, nonequity partners reported
the
lowest
satisfaction
scores
on
questions
about
compensation,
their
hourly
rates,
and
their
current
role
in
their
firms. Associates scored better
on all
of
these
categories.
Think
about
that paradox.
It
suggests
that associates are
more
satisfied
with
their
roles
than
the nonequity so-called
partners. Thanks
for
the
promotion.
And it’s easy
to
see
why nonequity
partners
aren’t
very
happy.
Nonequity
partners
are
held
to
a
higher
standard than
associates.
They
are
often
expected
to manage associates
and
their
profitability
but may
not
get
firm financial information
to
help
them
do
that.
They
have
little authority and
get
little recognition for
their
efforts.
In
many
respects,
they
are
treated
like
second-class
citizens. In
many
cases,
they
aren’t
allowed
to
sit
in
on
partner
meetings
or
if
they
are,
may
be
asked
to
leave
when
financial
or important issues
are
discussed.
One
other
surprising
finding, according
to
the
article, about
a
third
of
the
sample
are
required
to
provide
a
capital
contribution
to
receive
this
lofty
status,
just
like
equity
partners.
You have
to
pay
to
be
in
the club, but
you
can’t
use
the
facilities. You have
to
pay
for
a
promotion
that
feels
like
a
demotion.
And
it’s
getting
worse
as
law
firm
mergers
and
lateral
partners
results
in
equity
ranks
being increasingly closed.
For
all
these
reasons,
nonequity
partnership
isn’t
beloved
by
those
forced
into
it.
It’s
why
the
concept
faced
internal
resistance
when
first
proposed.
It’s
also
why
equity
partners
kept
pushing
for
it:
the
math
works for
them.
The
Impact
of Nonequity
However
one
views
whether
the
nonequity
distinction
is
good
or
bad,
it’s
not
going
to
change. The
real
difficulty
comes
from
thinking
we
are living in
the “once
upon
time” days
where
there
was
a
law
firm
culture
and
workplace
family.
It’s
long
gone.
Management has
to realize more
and
more professionals in
law
firms
are
not
happy.
That
dissatisfaction
impacts
productivity
and
law
firm
culture,
if
any
such
thing
remains
in
today’s
“it
just
business”
firm
workplace.
The
result: just
like
equity
partners,
when
nonequity
partners
aren’t
happy
where
they
are,
they
are
going
to
look
elsewhere.
With
the
advent
of
GenAI
tools
that reduce
the
learning
curve
for
all
sorts
of
legal
work,
nonequity
partners
have
more opportunities to
either
go
out
on
their
own
(with
the
word
partner
on
their
resume)
or
with
small
firms.
So
much
for
keeping
talented
lawyers
needed
to
do
the
work
who
don’t
originate
business.
The
result
is
increased volatility in
the
marketplace
all
the
way
around. There
is
less
institutional loyalty and
less willingness
to
act
for
the
good
of
the
firm for
long-range
planning
and
investment
initiatives.
In
today’s
world,
law
firms
are
just
a
business
with
players
that
make
business
decisions.
Maybe
that’s
a
good
thing
since
it
reflects
capitalism
in
its
basic
sense.
But
the
notion
of
a
law
firm
as
a
work
family
is
long
gone.
Thinking
that
there
are
any
remnants
is
a
mistake
for
associates,
nonequity
partners, equity
partners,
and
law
firm management. Just
like
law
firms
are
a
business,
so
are
the individuals who
work
in
it,
who
will
also
make
business
decisions.
Want
to
keep
nonequity
partners?
Better take
into
account how
they
view
the
whole
concept.
Stephen
Embry
is
a
lawyer,
speaker,
blogger,
and
writer.
He
publishes TechLaw
Crossroads,
a
blog
devoted
to
the
examination
of
the
tension
between
technology,
the
law,
and
the
practice
of
law.
If
you
were
looking
for
a
case
study
in
how
not
to
run
a
criminal
investigation,
congratulations:
the
Trump-era
Department
of
Justice
has
prepared
one
for
you,
complete
with
a
grand
jury
no-bill
and
prosecutors
who
apparently
could
not
identify
a
single
statute
their
targets
allegedly
violated.
The
effort
to
jail
six
Democratic
lawmakers
for
producing
a
video
advising
military
members
not
to
follow
illegal
orders
(a
position
that
is,
notably,
not
controversial
among
people
who
have
read
the
Uniform
Code
of
Military
Justice)
has
now
collapsed
in
humiliating
fashion.
A
grand
jury
handed
Jeanine
Pirro
a
no-bill
so
emphatic
it
didn’t
even
produce
a
single
vote
to
indict.
That’s…
not
a
close
call.
And
thanks
to
new
reporting
from
The
New
Republic,
we
now
know
the
lawyering
behind
this
embarrassment
was
even
worse
than
it
looked
from
the
outside.
During
the
investigation,
prosecutors
reached
out
to
counsel
for
the
lawmakers
as
part
of
follow-up
inquiries
—
a
normal
enough
step.
But
when
prosecutors
contacted
Elissa
Slotkin’s
attorney,
famed
former
federal
prosecutor
Preet
Bharara,
something
went
very
wrong,
very
quickly.
According
to
sources,
Bharara
asked
what
should
be
the
most
basic
question
in
any
criminal
case:
what
law
did
my
client
allegedly
break?
Silence.
“What
is
the
theory
of
criminal
liability?”
is
the
question
that
was
posed
to
the
prosecutors,
one
source
said,
adding
that
“no
answer
was
forthcoming.”
So
defense
lawyers
weren’t
shocked
that
Pirro
couldn’t
secure
an
indictment….
they
were
shocked
the
DOJ
tried
to
get
one
at
all.
Prosecutors
couldn’t
point
defense
lawyers
to
a
specific
statute,
yet
they
still
marched
into
a
grand
jury
room
and
asked
citizens
to
indict
members
of
Congress
anyway.
To
date,
it
has
still
not
been
definitively
confirmed
what
statute
the
government
relied
on
in
that
failed
effort.
Identifying
a
specific
law
that
someone
allegedly
broke
is
not
some
fussy
technicality
as
much
as
the
foundational
requirement
of
a
criminal
prosecution.
That
attorneys
in
Pirro’s
office
were
caught
flat-footed
on
this
point
speaks
volumes,
and
not
flattering
ones.
Bharara
memorialized
the
encounter
in
a
letter
to
Pirro
earlier
this
month,
writing,
“The
prosecutors
we
spoke
to
in
your
office,
though
courteous,
could
not
articulate
any
theory
of
possible
criminal
liability
or
any
statute
that
they
were
relying
on
or
that
could
have
been
violated.”
That
the
DOJ
barreled
forward
anyway
gives
this
the
unmistakable
sheen
of
a
political
witch
hunt
rather
than
anything
resembling
the
pursuit
of
justice.
The
optics
don’t
improve
when
you
zoom
out.
Pirro
reportedly
staffed
the
case
with
two
outside
prosecutors
with
slim
if
any
federal
experience,
one
of
whom
was
running
an
active
dance
photography
studio
at
the
same
time!
Everyone
deserves
a
career
change,
but
this
is
not
the
résumé
you
expect
behind
the
prosecution
of
sitting
members
of
Congress.
As
law
professor
Stephen
Vladeck
put
it,
“It
seems
at
least
to
suggest
that
the
prosecutors
were
not
the
ones
calling
the
shots,
and
that
what
they
thought
they
were
doing
got
run
over
by
their
bosses.
DOJ’s
credibility
depends
on
public
faith
that
prosecutions
are
brought
when
the
law
justifies
it,
not
when
the
political
leadership
of
the
administration
demands
it.”
That
credibility
is
now
in
tatters.
A
DOJ
that
can’t
identify
a
statute,
can’t
persuade
a
single
grand
juror,
and
can’t
explain
why
it
pressed
forward
anyway
can’t
call
itself
law
enforcement
as
opposed
to
performative
politics
set
at
the
courthouse.
Kathryn
Rubino
is
a
Senior
Editor
at
Above
the
Law,
host
of
The
Jabot
podcast,
and
co-host
of
Thinking
Like
A
Lawyer.
AtL
tipsters
are
the
best,
so
please
connect
with
her.
Feel
free
to
email
her
with
any
tips,
questions,
or
comments
and
follow
her
on
Twitter
@Kathryn1 or
Mastodon
@[email protected].
It
sometimes
feels
as
though
the
legal
profession’s
primary
engagement
with
AI
so
far
involves
lawyers
citing
fake
cases
generated
by
ChatGPT
and
getting
hauled
before
judges
to
explain
themselves.
And
with
global
legal
hallucination
incidents
closing
in
on
1000
cases,
that’s
an
understandable
reaction.
Everyone
gets
a
good
laugh
and
the
always
vocal
Luddite
contingent
of
the
bar
feels
vindicated.
But
focusing
on
AI’s
limitations
as
a
consistently
reliable
brief
writer
is
like
rejecting
a
grill
because
you
don’t
like
hot
dogs.
Which
isn’t
a
knock
on
what
AI
can
bring
as
a
research
and
drafting
tool
—
or
hot
dogs
for
that
matter
—
but
the
technology
can
do
other
things!
Some
of
which
carry
obvious
value
for
lawyers
and
aren’t
impacted
by
hallucinations
at
all.
No
one
wants
to
turn
over
a
“live
ammunition”
deposition
to
a
neophyte
lawyer.
But
how
does
a
neophyte
learn
to
take
a
deposition
without
experience.
Intensive
practical
simulations
with
copious
levels
of
senior
attorney
feedback
provide
the
best
—
and,
historically,
only
—
training
model.
Maybe
the
firm
puts
it
together
on-site.
Maybe
they
send
attorneys
to
an
off-site
camp
like
NITA.
Meanwhile,
law
students
should
consider
opportunities
like
the
ML
Advocacy
Academy
for
these
experiences.
That
said,
litigation
skills
aren’t
perfected
in
a
week
and
constantly
iterating
training
sessions
with
hired
actors
and
partners
devoting
the
energy
and
(lost
billable)
time
to
mentoring
and
feedback
presents
a
logistical
challenge
for
firms.
One
that
AI
can
now
address.
AltaClaro
has
taken
its
experience
building
training
tools
for
lawyers,
and
the
captioning
and
transcription
talents
of
Verbit.ai
and
launched
DepoSim,
harnessing
AI
to
construct
a
deposition
simulator.
Artificial
intelligence
takes
on
the
roles
of
deponent,
opposing
counsel,
and
court
reporter
in
a
vetted
simulation.
Armed
with
a
closed
universe
of
documentary
evidence,
users
can
ask
questions,
mark
exhibits,
and
navigate
objections
while
the
AI
composes
a
transcript
for
posterity.
When
the
exercise
ends,
the
system
generates
a
detailed,
rubric-based
feedback
report
scoring
the
user
across
multiple
deposition
skills.
If
the
user
wants
to
run
through
the
exercise
again
to
polish
up
their
mistakes,
there’s
no
scheduling
headaches
bringing
court
reporters
and
actors
and
other
lawyers
into
the
office
—
they
can
just
fire
up
the
system
again.
Users
can
even
tweak
the
system
to
alter
the
deponent’s
evasiveness
and
the
defending
attorney’s
obstreperousness
to
practice
different
skills
or
just
to
keep
the
challenge
fresh.
AltaClaro
and
Verbit
gave
me
a
hands-on
demonstration
last
week.
I
haven’t
dealt
with
a
witness
in
years
at
this
point,
but
sitting
down
with
DepoSim
felt
like
a
blast
from
the
past.
With
the
advances
in
technology
over
the
past
couple
years,
the
AI
witness
responds
quickly
and
realistically
and
the
opposing
counsel
threw
in
suitably
annoying
objections.
Anyone
committed
to
their
kneejerk
rejection
of
technology
will
spot
the
cracks
that
separate
the
exercise
from
a
flesh
and
blood
simulation,
but
none
of
these
undermine
its
prowess
at
testing
necessary
skills.
If
anything,
the
way
the
robot
can
stick
to
the
prep
and
never
get
tired
only
increases
the
challenge.
That
can
only
be
a
good
thing.
Sadly,
the
technology
fails
to
capture
that
Texas
deposition
energy.
Maybe
the
next
update.
And
don’t
overlook
the
value
of
a
computer
simulation
for
experienced
attorneys.
A
Biglaw
litigator
can
go
a
fair
amount
of
time
between
taking
depositions.
Despite
a
little
rust
setting
in,
a
senior
partner
isn’t
likely
to
schedule
on-site
training
for
themselves
or
book
a
trip
to
an
organization’s
boot
camp.
This
tool
gives
them
a
low-impact
option
to
brush
up
on
their
skills
before
the
real
thing.
From
my
experience,
I
got
dinged
on
professionalism
because
I
couldn’t
stop
snarking
at
the
AI
witness:
Joe:
Is
this
your
signature
on
the
document?
Witness
AI:
I
will
have
to
look
through
the
document
to
find
my
signature.
Joe:
My
guess
is
it’s
on
the
last
page,
genius.
Honestly,
fair
criticism
from
the
scoring
rubric.
Though
in
a
real
deposition,
my
approach
would’ve
totally
rattled
the
witness.
Or
gotten
me
sanctioned.
AltaClaro
and
Verbit
ran
a
beta
Early
Adopter
Program
with
six
firms
—
Orrick,
K&L
Gates,
McDermott,
Littler,
Taft,
and
Brownstein
Hyatt
—
that
generated
over
160
hours
of
testing.
The
numbers
from
that
pilot
are
pretty
telling:
97
percent
of
participants
strongly
agreed
the
tool
is
valuable
for
litigation
training
and
94
percent
said
they’d
use
it
again.
One
participating
partner
called
the
experience
“frighteningly
realistic,”
adding
that
the
feedback
was
“better
feedback
than
I’ve
received
from
attorneys.
Both
more
comprehensive
and
more
specific.”
Another
self-described
“confirmed
AI
hater”
among
the
associates
admitted
they
could
see
themselves
using
it
long-term.
At
launch,
the
product
only
provides
a
straightforward
civil
deposition,
but
at
my
demonstration,
they
explained
that
they
understand
the
potential
to
expand
the
available
scenarios.
As
a
technology,
there’s
no
reason
this
couldn’t
be
adapted
for
unique
situations
like
a
30(b)(6)
or
an
expert
witness.
With
a
little
tweaking,
it
could
provide
trial
examination
or
even
oral
argument
practice.
This
is
what
the
confirmed
AI
haters
miss.
For
every
task
that
AI
risks
disastrously
messing
up
without
focused
human
oversight,
there
are
tasks
that
AI
can
tackle
consistently
well…
and
more
efficiently.
While
the
greater
AI
industry
—
and
its
supporting
VC
culture
—
love
talking
about
replacing
white
collar
workers,
they
don’t
need
to
build
robot
lawyers
to
provide
value.
Crafting
a
tool
that
allows
lawyers
to
easily
train
for
depositions
on
their
own
schedule
is
a
perfect
use
case.
Most
contracts
are
written
for
a
world
that
pauses.
A
human
decides.
A
system
acts.
If
something
changes,
someone
notices,
and
the
contract
responds.
That
rhythm
is
baked
into
representations,
notice
provisions,
audit
rights,
and
remediation
clauses.
AI
is
quietly
breaking
that
rhythm.
As
software
begins
to
monitor,
decide,
and
act
continuously
within
defined
parameters,
contracts
are
starting
to
show
strain.
Not
because
anyone
suddenly
believes
machines
are
autonomous
in
a
sci-fi
sense,
but
because
the
assumptions
underlying
contract
structure
no
longer
map
cleanly
to
how
systems
behave.
What
‘Agentic’
Means
Without
The
Hype
Strip
away
the
buzzwords,
and
“agentic”
AI
isn’t
about
independent
intent.
It’s
about
continuity.
These
systems
don’t
wait
for
discrete
instructions.
They
operate
within
guardrails,
monitor
signals
in
real
time,
and
act
unless
or
until
a
threshold
is
crossed.
Humans
still
define
the
boundaries,
but
they
aren’t
involved
in
every
decision.
That
distinction
matters
legally.
Contracts
have
always
governed
action.
They
just
assumed
action
happened
in
bursts
rather
than
streams.
Why
Static
Promises
Break
Down
In
Continuous
Systems
Traditional
contracts
rely
heavily
on
static
commitments.
Representations
are
made
at
signing.
Audits
occur
periodically.
Notices
are
triggered
by
identifiable
events.
Continuous
systems
blur
those
lines.
Models
update.
Context
shifts.
Decisions
accumulate
gradually
rather
than
occurring
at
a
single
moment
in
time.
When
behavior
evolves
continuously,
it
becomes
harder
to
answer
basic
contractual
questions:
When
did
something
change?
When
should
notice
have
been
given?
Which
obligation
applies
to
which
version
of
the
system?
Static
promises
aren’t
wrong.
They’re
incomplete.
The
Early
Signals
Lawyers
Started
Seeing
In
2025
This
isn’t
a
story
about
mass
adoption.
It’s
about
early
signals.
In
2025,
a
subset
of
commercial
agreements
began
reflecting
discomfort
with
purely
static
governance.
Lawyers
started
experimenting,
cautiously,
with
clauses
that
acknowledge
ongoing
behavior
rather
than
one-time
events.
Those
signals
showed
up
as
conditional
permissions
instead
of
blanket
authorizations.
Event-based
notifications
replaced
calendar-based
ones.
Audit
rights
were
tied
to
system
behavior
or
material
changes
rather
than
annual
schedules.
Override
mechanisms
and
escalation
triggers
appeared
where
none
existed
before.
None
of
this
was
standardized.
None
of
it
was
uniform.
But
it
was
consistent
enough
to
suggest
a
shift
in
how
lawyers
were
thinking
about
risk.
From
Static
Obligations
To
Conditional
Execution
The
underlying
change
is
subtle
but
important.
Instead
of
promising
that
a
system
will
behave
a
certain
way
forever,
contracts
are
beginning
to
define
how
obligations
change
when
behavior
crosses
defined
boundaries.
If
a
threshold
is
exceeded,
additional
controls
apply.
If
a
system
adapts
materially,
disclosures
update.
If
automated
decisions
move
into
new
categories,
escalation
occurs.
This
doesn’t
make
contracts
predictive.
It
makes
them
responsive.
In
that
sense,
contracts
start
to
look
less
like
static
promises
and
more
like
rulebooks.
They
don’t
dictate
every
outcome.
They
define
how
to
respond
as
outcomes
evolve.
Why
This
Matters
Even
If
Clients
Aren’t
Asking
Yet
Most
clients
aren’t
asking
for
“agentic
AI”
clauses.
They
don’t
need
to.
They
are
asking
why
a
system
behaved
differently
over
time.
They
are
asking
when
a
change
became
material.
They
are
asking
who
was
supposed
to
notice
and
when.
Those
questions
surface
after
something
goes
wrong.
Contracts
that
only
speak
in
static
terms
struggle
to
answer
them.
This
is
where
friction
will
show
up
first.
Not
in
futurist
debates,
but
in
disputes
where
parties
argue
about
timing,
notice,
and
scope
in
systems
that
never
really
stopped
running.
Where
The
Risk
Sits
For
Lawyers
For
practitioners,
the
risk
isn’t
failing
to
predict
the
future.
It’s
failing
to
acknowledge
continuity.
Contracts
that
define
escalation
paths,
thresholds,
and
oversight
mechanisms
age
better
than
those
that
assume
stasis.
They
don’t
eliminate
risk,
but
they
make
behavior
legible
when
it
matters
most.
Saying
“we
didn’t
anticipate
that
behavior”
is
unlikely
to
be
a
persuasive
position
in
a
world
where
systems
are
designed
to
adapt.
Early
versions
of
these
patterns
appeared
across
a
subset
of
2025
commercial
agreements
and
are
examined
in
more
detail
in
a
recent
Contract
Trust
Report
exploring
how
contracts
are
adapting
to
continuous
systems.
The
Quiet
Shift
Underway
This
isn’t
about
rewriting
every
contract
for
autonomous
agents.
It’s
about
recognizing
that
software
no
longer
waits
for
humans
to
act
before
it
does.
Contracts
don’t
need
to
predict
every
outcome.
They
need
to
define
how
systems
behave
when
outcomes
evolve.
The
shift
toward
governing
continuous
behavior
has
already
begun,
quietly
and
unevenly.
By
the
time
it
feels
obvious,
it
will
be
too
late
to
treat
it
as
theoretical.
Olga
V.
Mack
is
the
CEO
of
TermScout,
where
she
builds
legal
systems
that
make
contracts
faster
to
understand,
easier
to
operate,
and
more
trustworthy
in
real
business
conditions.
Her
work
focuses
on
how
legal
rules
allocate
power,
manage
risk,
and
shape
decisions
under
uncertainty.
A
serial
CEO
and
former General
Counsel,
Olga
previously
led
a
legal
technology
company
through
acquisition
by
LexisNexis.
She
teaches
at
Berkeley
Law
and
is
a
Fellow
at
CodeX,
the
Stanford
Center
for
Legal
Informatics.
She
has
authored
several
books
on
legal
innovation
and
technology,
delivered
six
TEDx
talks,
and
her
insights
regularly
appear
in
Forbes,
Bloomberg
Law,
VentureBeat,
TechCrunch,
and
Above
the
Law.
Across
her
work,
she
treats
law
as
infrastructure,
something
that
should
be
reliable,
legible,
and
intentionally
designed
for
how
organizations
actually
operate.
Next
Vigil
meeting
outside
the
Zimbabwe
Embassy. Saturday
21st February
2026
from
2
–
5
pm.
We
meet
on
the
first
and
third
Saturdays
of
every
month.
On
other
Saturdays
the
virtual
Vigil
will
run.
The
Restoration
of
Human
Rights
in
Zimbabwe
(ROHR) is
the
Vigil’s
partner
organisation
based
in
Zimbabwe.
ROHR
grew
out
of
the
need
for
the
Vigil
to
have
an
organisation
on
the
ground
in
Zimbabwe
which
reflected
the
Vigil’s
mission
statement
in
a
practical
way.
ROHR
in
the
UK
actively
fundraises
through
membership
subscriptions,
events,
sales
etc
to
support
the
activities
of
ROHR
in
Zimbabwe.
The
Vigil’s
book
‘Zimbabwe
Emergency’ is
based
on
our
weekly
diaries.
It
records
how
events
in
Zimbabwe
have
unfolded
as
seen
by
the
diaspora
in
the
UK.
It
chronicles
the
economic
disintegration,
violence,
growing
oppression
and
political
manoeuvring
–
and
the
tragic
human
cost
involved. It
is
available
at
the
Vigil.
All
proceeds
go
to
the
Vigil
and
our
sister
organisation
the
Restoration
of
Human
Rights
in
Zimbabwe’s
work
in
Zimbabwe.
The
book
is
also
available
from
Amazon.
The
Vigil,
outside
the
Zimbabwe
Embassy,
429
Strand,
London
meets
regularly
on
Saturdays
from
14.00
to
17.00
to
protest
against
gross
violations
of
human
rights
in
Zimbabwe.
The
Vigil
which started
in
October
2002
will
continue
until
internationally-monitored,
free
and
fair
elections
are
held
in
Zimbabwe.
There
are
two
prominent
paths
for
explaining
why
words
mean
what
they
do.
There
are
prescriptive
paths
that
bind
words
to
what
they’ve
meant
historically,
and
descriptive
paths
that
say
words
gain
meaning
based
on
how
they’re
used
by
real
people.
I
tend
to
play
at
being
a
descriptive
definer
—
rather
that
than
the
alternative
of
being
a
language
hall
monitor
—
but
there
are
some
limiting
words
that
really
bring
out
the
grammar
alt-right
in
me.
Take
literally.
Not
literally,
you
can’t
take
literally
literally,
but
virtually.
At
some
dark
moment
in
our
collective
history
the
word
literally,
generally
understood
as
a
decidedly
non-figurative
“that
thing
right
there”
sort
of
word,
became
its
own
foil.
Literally
literally
came
to
mean
something
closer
to
figuratively
or
virtually,
because
that’s
how
idiots
young
adults
on
the
cutting
edge
of
culture
used
the
word.
The
prescriptivist
in
me
would
jump
out
and
say
that’s
not
what
literally
literally
means,
just
go
look
in
a
dictionary!
Alas,
Marriam-Webster
has
given
in
to
the
decadence
and
accepts
literal’s
literal
and
virtual
meaning.
Around
this
point
you
might
be
thinking
to
yourself
“Chris,
what
the
hell
does
this
have
to
do
with
the
law?”
My
answer:
it
literally
has
to
do
with
chicken
wings.
NYT
has
coverage:
In
an
opinion
heavy
on
chicken
puns,
a
district
court
judge
ruled
on
Tuesday
that
the
boneless
wings
at
Buffalo
Wild
Wings
could
indeed
be
called
wings.
The
order,
in
a
lawsuit
filed
by
a
Chicago
man
in
2023,
was
dripping
with
skepticism
at
the
claims
that
the
chain
was
misleading
consumers
about
its
boneless
wings.
Judge
John
J.
Tharp
Jr.,
of
the
United
States
District
Court
for
the
Northern
District
of
Illinois,
dismissed
claim
by
Aimen
Halim,
saying
it
“has
no
meat
on
its
bones.”
The
judge
upheld
Buffalo
Wild
Wings’
argument
that
the
“wing”
in
the
name
doesn’t
refer
to
the
anatomical
wing
of
a
chicken,
but
rather
the
style
of
cooking
the
dish.
Forgive
my
french,
but
that’s
fucking
stupid.
Grinding
something
up,
maybe
battering
it,
then
deep
frying
it
isn’t
“winging”
it,
and
we
need
to
stop
pretending
like
it
is.
Or
do
you
mean
to
tell
me
that
McDonalds
can
rebrand
their
hash
browns
as
“Potato
Wings”
and
no
one
will
bat
an
eye?
If
you
ever
tell
some
Nonna
that
the
Arancini
she’s
making
legally
qualify
as
risotto
wings,
you
should
fully
expect
a
video
of
her
beating
you
with
a
spoon
to
end
up
on
the
Italian
equivalent
of
World
Star
Hip
Hop.
The
judge
makes
the
analogous
argument
that
a
patron
ordering
Cauliflower
wings
(an
item
offered
on
the
menu),
wouldn’t
think
that
the
dish
has
bones
in
it.
First,
the
example
is
very
apples
to
oranges
considering
cauliflowers
don’t
have
bones.
Second,
this
failure
in
reasoning
has
to
involve
ignoring
the
reasonable
person
standard.
A
reasonable
person
wouldn’t
think
“Oh,
the
wing
here
refers
to
the
cooking
style”,
they’d
think
“This
place
is
about
to
up
charge
me
on
cauliflower
nuggets.
I
deserve
this.
Stupid
Stupid
Stupid!”
Because
that’s
what
cauliflower
“wings”
and
boneless
“wings”
are
—
glorified
nuggets.
It
is
a
shame
that
we
can’t
even
rely
on
judges
to
speak
truth
to
Big
Chicken™.
There
are
many
pressing
issues
that
need
to
go
to
the
Supreme
Court.
This
is
one
of
them.
A
case
came
out
of
Ohio
where
a
man
was
injured
because
he
ate
an
order
of
Boneless
wings
that
he
reasonably
presumed
didn’t
have
bones
in
them.
The
state’s
Supreme
Court
decided
that
it
was
entirely
reasonable
that
boneless
wings
could
have
bones
in
them.
That
is
literally
beyond
all
reason.
We
have
courts
telling
us
both
the
“Boneless”
and
the
“Wings”
in
boneless
wings
are
just
vibe
checks?
Remember
when
the
energy
drink
company
was
successfully
sued
for
millions
over
falsely
advertising
that
Red
Bull
gives
you
wings
in
a
New
York
court?
We
used
to
be
a
proper
country.
Now,
more
than
ever,
we
need
to
Make
Wings
Great
A…damn
it,
the
grammar
alt-right
in
me
almost
seeped
out
again.
Chris
Williams
became
a
social
media
manager
and
assistant
editor
for
Above
the
Law
in
June
2021.
Prior
to
joining
the
staff,
he
moonlighted
as
a
minor
Memelord™
in
the
Facebook
group Law
School
Memes
for
Edgy
T14s
.
He
endured
Missouri
long
enough
to
graduate
from
Washington
University
in
St.
Louis
School
of
Law.
He
is
a
former
boatbuilder
who
is
learning
to
swim, is
interested
in
critical
race
theory,
philosophy,
and
humor,
and
has
a
love
for
cycling
that
occasionally
annoys
his
peers.
You
can
reach
him
by
email
at [email protected]
and
by
tweet
at @WritesForRent.
Kathryn
