The
school
year
is
over,
but
rising
third-year
law
students
are
busy.
They
are
putting
the
finishing
touches
on
judicial
clerkship
applications
and
preparing
to
submit
them
via
the
Online
System
for
Clerkship
Application
and
Review
(OSCAR)
on
June
12,
2023,
in
compliance
with
the
federal
law
clerk
hiring
plan.
On
that
date,
students
will
indiscriminately
apply
for
clerkships
with
as
many
as
100
federal
judges.
Judges
review
hundreds
of
applications
in
just
a
few
days,
with
substantial
input
from
friendly
law
professors
and
their
current
clerks
—
before
extending
interview
offers
for
this
coveted
first
legal
job.
Sadly,
due
to
the
lack
of
transparency
in
the
clerkship
application
process,
law
students
will
submit
their
applications,
fly
across
the
country
on
several
days’
notice
for
interviews,
and
accept
these
positions
—
either
on
the
spot
or
with
very
little
time
to
think
about
it
—
with
very
little
information
about
judges
as
managers
or
clerkship
experiences.
Some
will
have
wonderful
clerkship
experiences.
Others
will
experience
workplace
mistreatment
that
alters
their
career
paths,
derails
their
careers,
or
drives
them
from
the
legal
profession
entirely.
Troublingly,
the
latter
group
are
dissuaded
from
ever
speaking
about
these
negative
experiences,
even
with
law
students
considering
clerkships
with
the
judges
who
mistreated
them.
This
month,
we
can
also
expect
a
plethora
of
social
media
takes
about
clerkships
—
attorneys
tweeting
and
posting
on
LinkedIn
about
their
positive
clerkship
experiences
and
the
lifelong
mentor/mentee
relationships
they
developed
with
the
judges
for
whom
they
clerked.
Descriptions
of
the
judge/clerk
relationship
as
“familial.”
Photos
of
judges
officiating
their
former
clerks’
weddings.
Attorneys
advising
students
to
“apply
broadly,”
meaning
across
the
U.S.
and
across
the
political
spectrum.
Refrains
about
the
importance
of
accepting
the
first
clerkship
you
are
offered,
because
you
can
live
anywhere
(and
endure
anything)
for
a
year
or
two.
There’s
nothing
wrong
with
discussing
the
benefits
of
clerking.
Clerking
can
be
a
very
valuable
experience
where
new
attorneys
receive
a
crash
course
in
trial
lawyering
and
judicial
decision-making,
while
honing
their
writing
and
research
skills.
But
when
the
messaging
is
uniformly
positive
—
from
law
schools
advising
students
on
clerkships,
from
faculty
members
referring
students
to
judges
and
judges
to
students,
and
from
attorneys
mentoring
law
students
and
hiring
them
for
their
post-clerkship
positions
—
law
students
lack
a
critical
perspective.
When
mistreated
law
clerks
hear
this
toxic
positive
messaging,
they
are
made
to
feel
that
they
must
have
done
something
wrong.
If
no
one
discusses
negative
experiences,
they
must
be
the
only
ones
who
were
mistreated.
This
can
be
enormously
isolating.
When
I
was
a
former
clerk
participating
in
the
judicial
complaint
process,
that
messaging
was
turned
around
on
me.
I
was
told
by
an
investigator
that
I
“must
have
done
something
wrong
because
the
judge
hired
[me]
in
the
first
place.”
Current
and
former
clerks
reach
out
to
The
Legal
Accountability
Project
(LAP)
frequently
for
advice.
They
ask
whether
their
experiences
are
common.
I
underscore
that
they
are
not
alone:
our
experiences,
while
not
rare,
are
rarely
shared
publicly,
due
to
the
culture
of
silence
and
fear
surrounding
the
judiciary
—
one
of
deifying
judges
and
disbelieving
law
clerks.
When
I
was
a
law
student
at
Washington
University
in
St.
Louis
School
of
Law,
the
messaging
around
clerkships
—
like
at
most
law
schools
—
was
nearly
always
positive.
No
one
talked
about
the
potential
downsides
of
clerking.
Even
now,
to
the
extent
potential
downsides
are
broached,
this
is
typically
limited
to
the
relatively
low
clerkship
salary,
and
the
necessity
of
moving
to
a
faraway
place
for
a
year
or
two.
Realistic
and
balanced
clerkship
messaging
and
programming
must
become
part
of
mainstream
law
school
culture.
Law
school
clerkship
directors,
deans,
and
faculty
members
may
hesitate
to
broach
potential
downsides
because
they
worry
that
it
will
dissuade
some
students
from
clerking.
Or
because
they
prioritize
their
relationship
with
every
single
judge
—
even
those
known
to
mistreat
their
clerks
—
over
their
duty
of
care
to
all
of
their
students.
Yet
transparency
and
candor
will
not
dissuade
students
from
clerking.
The
students
who
entered
law
school
dead-set
on
clerking
will
clerk
anyway.
And
the
clerkship-curious
students
will
pursue
judicial
clerkships
with
the
confidence
that
they
will
be
treated
fairly
and
respectfully
during
both
the
application
process
and
their
tenure
as
clerks.
They
will
pursue
better
clerkships.
Many
law
schools
continue
to
give
the
ill-advised
directive
that
students
must
accept
the
first
clerkship
they
are
offered
—
that
they
can
never
say
“no”
to
a
judge.
This
contributes
to
the
deification
of
judges.
What
is
unique
about
clerkships
in
the
legal
profession,
such
that
you
can
never
turn
down
a
job
offer?
This
sends
a
message
to
both
law
students
and
the
judiciary
that
judges
deserve
blind
respect
and
total
deference.
Law
schools
also
rely
on
euphemisms
for
mistreatment
like
“fit”
when
discussing
the
judge/clerk
relationship.
They
describe
the
clerkship
search
as
identifying
“good
fits”
because
they
do
not
want
to
explicitly
state
that
some
judges
mistreat
their
clerks.
Still
others
tell
students
that
a
“challenging”
clerkship
(another
euphemism
for
workplace
mistreatment)
is
“worth
it”
for
the
prestige.
And
during
conversations
with
career
services
professionals,
administrators
tell
me
that
“law
clerks
just
want
to
keep
their
heads
down
and
move
on”
after
a
negative
experience.
Law
students
and
alumni
deserve
better
than
evasive
or
opaque
statements
and
half-truths
filtered
to
law
schools’
comfort
level.
They
deserve
candor
from
those
who
profess
to
have
students’
best
interests
at
heart.
Law
clerks
who
experience
mistreatment
are
notoriously
unwilling
to
share
that
information
with
their
law
schools.
But
in
the
instances
in
which
they
do,
too
often
they
are
confronted
with
advice
like
“stick
it
out.”
They
are
dissuaded
from
speaking
out
or
standing
up
for
themselves.
Some
administrators
help
students
extract
themselves
from
negative
clerkship
experiences.
But
this
is
the
exception,
not
the
rule.
Law
schools
should
tell
students
that
they
can
leave
a
clerkship
early
if
they
are
mistreated
or
disrespected,
just
like
they
can
turn
down
a
clerkship
offer
if
something
feels
wrong.
Anything
less
than
empowering
students
to
stand
up
for
themselves
is
disempowering,
considering
the
enormous
headwinds
that
clerks
seeking
accountability
face.
Law
schools
tell
students
to
“do
their
research”
about
judges
before
applying.
But
what
research
are
students
to
do,
when
so
little
information
about
judges
as
managers
and
clerkship
experiences
is
accessible
to
them?
Law
schools
intend
for
students
to
reach
out
to
current
or
former
clerks
—
ideally
alumni
of
their
alma
maters
—
who
may
or
may
not
share
candid
information
about
their
clerkship
experiences.
This
backdoor,
secretive,
fear-infused
method
of
information-sharing
is
sometimes
referred
to
as
the
“clerkships
whisper
network.”
Those
with
information
about
judges
—
either
law
clerks
or
law
school
administrators
(deans,
clerkship
directors,
and
professors)
—
may
or
may
not
share
information
with
students
who
reach
out.
But
current
and
former
clerks,
fearing
both
reputational
harm
in
the
legal
community
for
saying
anything
less
than
positive
about
judges
and
retaliation
by
the
judges
who
mistreated
them,
are
disincentivized
to
share
candid
information
about
mistreatment
with
law
students
who
need
it.
In
the
absence
of
transparent
information,
law
clerks
recount
to
me
the
troubling
ways
they
attempt
to
“research”
judges
—
anonymous
T-14
blogs,
The
Robing
Room,
and
outreach
to
friends
at
better-resourced
schools
that
keep
some
records
about
clerkship
experiences.
They
reach
out
to
former
clerks
before
interviewing,
who
all
paint
the
same
overly
rosy
picture,
as
if
reading
from
a
script.
Law
clerks
tell
me
they
found
out
later
—
after
experiencing
mistreatment
—
that
former
clerks
were
not
fully
transparent
when
they
spoke.
In
the
rare
instances
when
clerks
share
information
with
their
law
schools,
the
schools
may
instruct
them
not
to
tell
anyone
—
putting
clerkship
directors
in
the
challenging
position
of
either
sharing
the
information
anyway
(anonymously),
or
not
warning
applicants
at
all.
We
should
encourage
law
clerks
to
speak
openly
and
honestly
about
the
full
range
of
clerkship
experiences.
Empowering
clerks
to
discuss
workplace
treatment
is
the
first
step
toward
changing
the
culture
in
the
legal
community.
Candid
dialogue
will
also
raise
the
bar
on
workplace
civility
in
the
judiciary,
challenging
every
judge
to
take
a
hard
look
at
their
chambers
culture
and
role
as
a
manager.
I
often
ask
deans
and
judges
how
they
think
students
obtain
information
about
judges
before
applying
for
clerkships;
whether
information
about
judges
who
mistreat
their
clerks
is
shared
with
students;
and
whether
enough
information
about
judges
as
managers
is
accessible
to
applicants.
Many
agree
that
greater
transparency
in
the
clerkship
application
process
is
necessary
—
yet
institutional
intransigence
and
fear
of
disruptive
change
have
long
precluded
reform.
It
weighs
heavily
on
me
that
we
are
entering
another
clerkship
application
cycle
where
law
students
lack
information
about
judges.
Here’s
some
advice
to
help
prospective
clerks
protect
themselves
and
make
(relatively)
informed
decisions:
You
don’t
have
to
accept
the
first
clerkship
you
are
offered.
You
can
say
“no”
to
a
judge.
You
can
also
ask
for
more
time
to
think
about
it.
If
something
feels
wrong
after
an
interview,
you
can
turn
down
a
clerkship
offer,
or
ask
for
more
time
to
think
about
it.
The
judge
will
find
another
clerk,
and
you’ll
find
another
job.
Some
judges
continue
to
engage
in
the
practice
of
exploding
offers,
pressuring
students
to
accept
offers
on
the
spot.
But
do
you
really
want
to
work
for
someone
who
respects
you
so
little?
Ask
the
right
questions
of
the
judge.
Ask
about
chambers
culture,
hours,
tasks,
and
expectations.
You
can
also
ask
questions
about
workplace
policies.
I
speak
often
with
judges
who
support
increased
judicial
accountability
mechanisms
and
enhanced
workplace
protections,
and
who
are
happy
to
tell
me
what
else
they
think
needs
to
change
to
increase
diversity
in
the
clerkship
applicant
pool
and
to
ensure
safe
work
environments
for
judiciary
employees.
A
judge’s
answer
should
be
a
red
flag
—
or
a
green
flag.
Ask
the
right
questions
of
the
judge’s
clerks.
After
your
interview
with
the
judge,
you’ll
spend
some
time
with
the
clerks.
This
is
part
of
the
interview.
But
it’s
also
an
opportunity
to
seek
a
candid
assessment
about
chambers
culture,
how
the
judge
provides
feedback,
and
the
judge’s
relationship
with
their
clerks,
judicial
assistant,
and
courthouse
staff.
Clerks’
answers
to
these
questions
—
and
their
willingness
to
answer
them
at
all
—
is
instructive.
Seek
advice
from
former
clerks.
The
clerkships
whisper
network
is
woefully
inadequate
but,
this
year,
it’s
the
system
that
exists.
As
soon
as
you
get
an
interview,
reach
out
to
former
clerks.
Start
with
your
law
school’s
alumni
network.
Then
search
through
LinkedIn.
Or
reach
out
to
LAP,
and
we’ll
try
to
connect
you
with
former
clerks.
Ask
pointed
questions.
Former
clerks
are
better-positioned
than
current
ones
to
answer
candidly.
Considering
the
premium
that
law
schools
and
legal
employers
place
on
judicial
clerkships,
and
the
outsized
importance
of
a
clerkship
on
an
attorney’s
future
career
success,
the
legal
community
should
ensure
access
to
transparent
information
about
clerkships.
Our
clerkship
system
is
broken,
but
we
can
fix
it.
We
should
aim
to
create
a
legal
profession
that
is
more
diverse,
more
equitable,
and
more
inclusive.
But
nothing
will
ever
change
if
no
one
speaks
out
about
injustice.
And
it
shouldn’t
just
come
from
people
like
me
—
who
are
adjacent
to
the
practice
of
law.
We
should
empower
law
students,
law
clerks,
and
the
next
generation
of
attorneys
to
demand
safer
workplaces.
The
first
step
is
to
change
the
messaging
around
clerkships,
so
that
every
clerk
knows
they
are
not
alone.
Messaging
matters.
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.