Just
two
federal
law
clerks
filed
complaints
under
the
Judicial
Conduct
and
Disability
Act
(JCDA)
in
2025,
according
to
the
judiciary’s
recently
released
2025
statistics.
Not
because
judges
don’t
mistreat
their
clerks
but
because
the
complaint
process
is
broken.
Consider
this:
according
to
the
judiciary’s
own
2023
workplace
conduct
survey,
106
clerks
described
actionable
mistreatment
that
year.
So,
a
functional
system
would
yield
nearly
106
complaints:
yet
that
year,
there
were
just
three
complaints.
Clerks
rarely
file,
given
the
enormous
headwinds
against
reporting:
they’re
not
legally
protected
against
retaliation
for
doing
so.
Judges
have
life
tenure
and
cannot
be
fired:
so,
the
JCDA
delineates
a
process
that,
in
the
most
serious
circumstances,
could
lead
to
congressional
impeachment
and
removal
from
office.
It’s
the
only
way
to
discipline
judges,
since
they’re
exempt
from
the
anti-discrimination
laws
they
interpret
and
enjoy
legal
immunity
for
harassing
people.
Anyone
can
file
a
complaint
alleging
“conduct
prejudicial
to
the
effective
and
expeditious
administration
of
the
business
of
the
courts”
—
basically,
that
a
judge
has
committed
misconduct
or
has
a
disability
that
precludes
them
from
effectively
discharging
their
duties.
Since
the
judiciary
insists
it
can
“self-police”
and
runs
an
“exemplary”
workplace,
you’d
think
complaints
would
be
encouraged
and
taken
seriously.
In
fact,
judiciary
officials
spend
most
of
their
time
dissuading
clerks
from
filing
complaints
—
heavily
incentivized
to
sweep
misconduct
under
the
rug
and
shield
abusive
judges
from
accountability.
Most
misconduct
isn’t
formally
reported
—
it’s
shared
informally
with
an
employee
dispute
resolution
(EDR)
coordinator,
director
of
workplace
relations
(DWR),
or
chief
judge
—
who
often
discourage
clerks
from
filing
complaints.
Or,
clerks
believe
they
have
reported.
One
clerk
told
me
recently,
“I
spoke
with
the
DWR:
I
thought
I
did
report
and
they’d
take
care
of
it.”
No.
Disturbingly,
judiciary
officials
are
not
required
to
act
or
even
to
disclose
troubling
information:
they’re
sitting
on
massive
evidence
of
misconduct.
For
example,
the
Second
Circuit
DWR
tasked
with
assisting
Judge
Sarah
Merriam’s
clerks
actually
withheld
information.
If
and
when
congressional
Democrats
take
the
majority
in
2027,
the
House
Judiciary
Committee
should
subpoena
all
notes
and
records
related
to
these
clerk
conversations,
which
would
reveal
a
treasure
trove
of
actionable
information.
Then,
Congress
and
the
courts
should
take
investigatory
and
disciplinary
action.
In
2025,
LAP
assisted
clerks
with
JCDA
complaints
against
Maryland
judge
Lydia
Kay
Griggsby
and
former
Minnesota
bankruptcy
judge
Kesha
Tanabe,
because
sunlight
is
the
best
disinfectant,
and
public
accountability
not
only
warns
prospective
clerks,
but
also
deters
misconduct.
Disturbingly,
the
Tanabe
complaint
was
withdrawn
by
the
clerk
under
pressure
from
the
Eighth
Circuit,
after
officials
told
him
the
judge
“was
resigning
anyway.”
That
incident
precipitated
introduction
of
the
TRUST
Act,
which
would
revise
the
JCDA
so
investigations
against
judges
can
continue
after
they
step
down
to
evade
accountability.
Unsurprisingly,
that
bill
stalled
in
Congress.
Former
judge
Mark
Wolf
pulled
the
same
stunt
late
last
year:
there
would
be
a
renewed
push
for
legislation
in
different
times.
Unfortunately,
the
complaint
process
relies
on
subordinates
to
blow
the
whistle
on
powerful
superiors,
which
they
rarely
do,
since
they’re
not
protected
against
retaliation.
Clerks
perceive
the
risks
of
career
damage
and
reputational
harm
as
not
worth
the
potential
benefits,
given
how
few
judges
are
disciplined.
In
fact,
I
think
the
risk
is
overblown,
and
clerks
are
better
able
to
protect
against
retaliation
if
they
have
a
documented
complaint
than
if
they
have
no
evidence
except
their
word
against
the
judge’s.
But
it’s
still
an
uphill
battle
to
convince
clerks
to
report,
given
the
challenges
of
navigating
the
byzantine
complaint
process,
typically
without
legal
counsel.
Complaint
statistics
are
a
terrible
metric
of
judicial
misconduct,
given
how
few
clerks
report.
The
judiciary’s
2023
workplace
conduct
survey
is
a
better
one.
While
quantifying
the
scope
of
the
problem
is
the
first
step
toward
crafting
effective
solutions,
there’s
been
no
next
step—from
the
courts
or
from
Congress.
For
example,
the
judiciary
has
not
investigated
the
106
aforementioned
judges’
misconduct.
They
should.
Nor
have
they
conducted
another
workplace
survey
since
2023:
they
took
nearly
two
years
after
collecting
data
to
publicly
disclose
it,
during
which
there
was
significant
judge
and
clerk
turnover.
The
Judiciary
Accountability
Act
(JAA),
for
which
I
provided
testimony
four
years
ago
this
month,
would
require
the
judiciary
to
conduct
an
annual
workplace
survey
and
publicly
disclose
the
results,
as
well
as
outcomes
of
both
JCDA
and
internal
EDR
complaints.
Importantly,
the
judiciary
tries
to
funnel
clerks
away
from
JCDA
complaints
and
to
a
second
reporting
process,
EDR,
because
there’s
no
accountability
for
judges
and
the
judiciary
is
not
required
to
release
disciplinary
orders
disclosing
the
misconduct,
eliminating
even
the
appearance
of
transparency.
EDR
is
not
popular:
only
20
percent
of
employees
who
participated
in
EDR
were
satisfied
with
the
process
in
2023.
And
while
the
judiciary
misleadingly
frames
it
as
an
“alternative”
to
Title
VII,
it’s
not:
monetary
remedies
—
the
cornerstone
of
Title
VII
—
are
not
available
to
judiciary
employees
who
endured
serious
career
and
reputational
harm.
The
only
“remedy”
is
reassignment:
that
does
not
repair
clerks’
careers.
Nor
does
reassigning
clerks
prevent
judges
from
continuing
to
mistreat
employees:
like
with
Judges
Griggsby
and
Merriam,
simply
reassigning
clerks
without
disciplining
and
retraining
abusive
judges
is
a
Band-aid
over
a
bullet
hole
that
does
not
solve
the
problem,
leaves
future
clerks
vulnerable
to
mistreatment,
and
may
even
embolden
judges
to
treat
clerks
worse.
What’s
the
point
of
judicial
discipline?
Isn’t
it
better
for
abusive
judges
to
step
down
so
they
can’t
mistreat
clerks?
Well,
they
can
mistreat
subordinates
in
their
next
jobs,
since
most
aren’t
disbarred.
And
if
they’re
not
disciplined
and
retrained,
they’ll
continue
mistreating
subordinates.
Judges
who
resigned
amid
misconduct
investigations,
including
Wolf
and
Tanabe,
went
to
law
firms
and
could
subject
vulnerable
subordinates
to
abuse
with
no
way
for
them
to
avoid
it.
Discipline
deters
bad
behavior.
It’s
why
we
have
laws
and
rules:
many
lawyers’
jobs
are
literally
to
interpret
the
ones
that
apply
to
everyone
but
judges.
When
judges
face
real
consequences
for
abusing
their
power
—
like
a
public
reprimand
that
tarnishes
their
reputation,
a
suspension,
or
perhaps
even
impeachment
and
removal
from
office
—
they’re
less
likely
to
misbehave.
Yet
judges
face
no
disincentive
to
mistreat
clerks,
given
how
rarely
they’re
disciplined.
Many
are
rightfully
skeptical
of
government’s
ability
to
ethically
serve
the
public.
But
while
much
ink
is
spilled
discussing
public
corruption
—
congressional
stock
trading
based
on
insider
information;
wealthy
individuals
purchasing
pardons;
and
those
with
influence
currying
favor
with
the
White
House
and
government
officials
—
the
courts
get
a
free
pass
for
judicial
corruption.
Judges
interpret
our
laws
—
making
decisions
every
day
affecting
litigants’
lives,
livelihoods,
and
liberty
—
while
not
subject
to
those
same
laws.
They
commit
misconduct
behind
the
bench,
while
ruling
on
litigants’
misconduct
in
front
of
the
bench.
Frankly,
the
public
should
not
have
any
confidence
in
the
judiciary
as
a
fair
and
neutral
arbiter
of
disputes,
given
the
misconduct
judges
get
away
with.
The
federal
judiciary
is
perpetrating
a
fraud
upon
the
public:
concealing
misconduct,
obfuscating
about
the
scope
of
the
problem,
and
flouting
congressional
authority.
Judicial
corruption
is
no
different
from
other
public
corruption:
the
courts
are
just
better
at
hiding
it
by
controlling
the
levers
of
power,
chilling
law
clerk
complaints,
and
stymying
Congress
from
asking
questions.
These
disturbing
2025
complaint
statistics,
released
days
after
three
back-to-back
reported
instances
of
judicial
misconduct
in
just
six
weeks,
are
just
the
latest
in
a
long
line
of
red
flags.
Judges
cannot
remain
above
the
law:
it’s
time
for
meaningful
action.
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.