Judge
Aileen
Cannon,
who’s
been
in
the
news
as
the
judge
presiding
over
one
of
the
cases
against
former
president
Donald
Trump,
is
in
the
news
for
a
very
different
reason.
As
David
Lat
first
reported
in
his
newsletter,
Original
Jurisdiction,
several
of
Cannon’s
term
clerks
quit
within
the
past
year.
“Clerks
don’t
quit,”
one
law
professor
tweeted
in
response.
Actually,
some
do.
Many
more
consider
it
or
wish
they
had.
And
far
too
many
are
fired.
But
it’s
notable
when
a
clerk
leaves
early,
considering
the
prestige
of
the
position,
the
questions
it
would
raise
for
clerks’
future
employers,
and
the
risk
of
provoking
a
judge’s
ire
and
risking
retaliation
or
reputational
harm,
since
federal
clerks
lack
whistleblower
or
retaliation
protections.
And,
considering
that
Cannon
has
only
been
on
the
bench
for
a
few
years,
she
has
probably
hired
fewer
than
a
dozen
clerks
total.
Two
departures
within
a
year
is
noteworthy.
These
departures
raise
questions
about
whether
turmoil
in
chambers
caused
delays
in
the
Trump
case.
District
judges
typically
have
two
clerks
per
term.
There’s
more
than
enough
work
to
go
around,
particularly
in
a
bustling
district
like
the
Southern
District
of
Florida,
when
chambers
is
fully
staffed.
So,
clerks
quitting
creates
more
work
for
those
left
in
chambers.
It
also
requires
the
judge
to
hire
a
new
clerk
quickly
and
train
them.
That
takes
time.
Contrary
to
the
political
hay
some
may
make,
this
isn’t
about
Cannon’s
politics.
Or
her
handling
of
the
Trump
case.
Why
would
anyone
quit
a
clerkship?
After
all,
clerkships
are
messaged
as
pivotal
post-graduate
opportunities
that
confer
prestige
and
incomparable
connections
from
working
closely
with
a
judge.
They’re
overwhelmingly
viewed
as
launchpads
to
career
success
in
private
practice,
public
service,
and
academia.
Law
clerk
issues
too
rarely
make
news.
Judges’
treatment
of
clerks
and
chambers
culture
should
be
on
public
display.
Perhaps
it
will
incentivize
judges
to
look
inward
and
change
their
behavior.
How
common
is
it
for
law
clerks
to
quit?
Probably
more
common
than
you’d
think.
But
not
often
enough,
considering
the
challenges
clerks
face.
I’m
privy
to
the
varying
degrees
of
nuanced
and
negative
clerkship
experiences
because
of
The
Legal
Accountability
Project’s
work.
This
is
one
of
the
federal
judiciary’s
many
blind
spots.
They’ve
historically
failed
to
collect
and
report
data
on
law
clerk
hiring,
workplace
culture,
or
the
prevalence
of
mistreatment.
Information
about
clerks
leaving
clerkships
early
is
particularly
important
for
clerkship
applicants
—
law
students
and
recent
graduates
—
because
it’s
a
red
flag
about
problems
in
chambers.
It
could
suggest
the
judge
is
a
poor
manager,
or
that
they
mistreat
clerks.
This
information
has
historically,
and
conveniently,
not
been
shared
(though
Heidi
Bond,
in
a
2018
letter
to
the
Senate
Judiciary
Committee,
argued
the
judiciary
should
document
instances
of
clerks
leaving
early
to
flag
judges
for
remedial
training).
Clerks
don’t
just
“stick
it
out”
and
endure
mistreatment
because
they’re
advised
to.
They
understand
the
professional
repercussions
of
leaving
a
clerkship
without
a
positive
reference,
of
having
to
explain
the
early
departure
to
a
future
employer,
and
of
being
at
odds
with
a
powerful
judge.
I’ve
had
thousands
of
conversations
with
clerks
since
I
launched
LAP.
Some
leave
early.
Many
more
considered
it
or
wish
they
had.
But
the
headwinds
in
the
legal
profession
—
including
fear,
a
culture
of
silence,
and
an
interest
in
self-preservation
—
cut
heavily
in
favor
of
sticking
it
out.
Quitting
a
clerkship
may
be
viewed
by
some
as
extreme.
But
it’s
a
testament
to
the
lack
of
effective
options
to
address
wrongful
conduct,
including
a
dearth
of:
effective
and
confidential
complaint
channels,
mechanisms
for
reassignment,
points
of
contact
for
clerks
seeking
assistance,
and
legal
redress.
It’s
a
dire
statement
about
the
state
of
federal
clerkships
when
clerks’
options
are:
tough
it
out,
endure
mistreatment,
and
hope
to
leave
with
a
good
enough
reference;
or
quit
to
salvage
your
mental
health
and
well-being,
and
risk
the
reputational
damage.
I
hear
from
clerks
about
all
manner
of
bad
behavior
in
chambers:
judges
refuse
to
train
clerks
when
they
start
—
delegating
training
to
outgoing
clerks.
This
causes
miscommunication
and
failure
to
convey
expectations.
Then,
judges
berate
clerks
for
perceived
mistakes.
Judges
overwork
clerks
—
expecting
them
to
work
late
nights
and
weekends,
even
when
the
judge
isn’t
in
chambers.
Judges
fail
to
convey
feedback
constructively
or
meet
with
their
clerks.
They
yell
or
throw
things.
They
disparage
clerks
or
pit
them
against
each
other.
Some
judges
fire
clerks
and
even
retaliate
against
them,
intervening
with
post-clerkship
jobs
or
bar
applications
with
negative
references,
getting
them
blackballed
from
jobs.
Troublingly,
there’s
no
judiciary
oversight
over
judges’
daily
dealings
with
clerks,
no
effective
points
of
contact
for
mistreated
clerks,
and
no
support
for
clerks
enduring
abuse.
Why
do
these
problems
persist?
Judges
—
the
most
powerful
members
of
our
profession
—
are
placed
on
a
pedestal
and
treated
as
if
they
can
do
no
wrong,
as
if
they
deserve
absolute
respect
and
total
deference.
They
don’t.
And
clerks
suffer
the
consequences.
Law
school
faculty
members,
clerkship
directors,
and
deans
are
wrapped
up
in
their
relationships
with
judges.
It’s
why
they’ve
resisted
efforts
at
transparency
and
reform,
turned
a
blind
eye
to
workplace
mistreatment,
and
continued
to
message
that
“challenging”
clerkships
(a
euphemism
for
mistreatment)
are
“worth
it”
for
the
prestige.
We
won’t
solve
these
problems
as
long
as
law
schools
funnel
students
into
clerkships
they
know
or
suspect
are
bad,
to
improve
their
publicly
reported
clerkship
numbers
and
maintain
public
perception
of
the
schools.
Perhaps
schools
should
be
required
to
collect
and
report
data
on
clerkship
mistreatment
to
the
ABA
annually
as
a
condition
of
their
accreditation.
The
legal
profession
—
law
firm
partners,
as
well
as
government
employers
—
have
also
historically
failed
to
support
clerks,
despite
having
an
interest
in
ensuring
productive
clerkship
experiences
and
safeguarding
clerks’
welfare.
They
prioritize
hiring
of
former
clerks
and
expect
that
when
interviewees
are
asked
about
their
clerkships,
they’ll
rave.
Anything
less
than
a
glowing
review
is
considered
a
red
flag,
thus
perpetuating
industry-wide
dependence
on
judges’
references
and
refusing
to
acknowledge
judges’
fallibility.
And
the
judiciary
itself
has
long
perpetuated
problematic
behaviors
in
its
ranks
by
refusing
to
acknowledge
these
problems,
let
alone
take
meaningful
steps
to
solve
them.
It
has
been
more
than
six
years
since
former
judge
Alex
Kozinski
stepped
down,
yet
the
federal
judiciary
has
implemented
few
changes.
A
few
window
dressing
changes
to
the
underutilized
Model
Employee
Dispute
Resolution
(EDR)
Plan.
Creating
a
Workplace
Conduct
Working
Group
to
“study”
these
issues.
The
judiciary
insists
it
can
internally
“self-police,”
despite
overwhelming
evidence
to
the
contrary
—
including
this
situation
with
Cannon,
which
they
have
yet
to
respond
to.
Right
now,
judiciary
Directors
of
Workplace
Relations
(DWRs)
—
law
clerk
points
of
contact
—
are
totally
in
the
dark.
The
judiciary
claims
their
decentralized
system
works
because
DWRs
know
their
circuits
best.
But
when
I
speak
with
them
and
point
out,
for
example,
that
Judge
X
just
fired
several
clerks,
they
respond
that
they
don’t
know
about
that
because
they’re
not
located
in
that
courthouse,
or
because
the
clerks
did
not
approach
them.
The
onus
should
not
be
on
mistreated
clerks
to
enforce
judicial
accountability.
It
should
be
a
red
flag
for
the
entire
courthouse
when
clerks
leave
early.
Fellow
judges
should
take
notice.
And
the
judiciary
should
keep
track
of
this.
Yet
there’s
historically
been
a
toxic
belief
that
if
it’s
not
my
chambers,
it’s
not
my
business,
and
an
unwillingness
by
fellow
judges
to
intervene.
This
lack
of
bystander
intervention
perpetuates
bad
behavior.
It’s
also
inexpedient
for
judges,
since
clerk
resignations
create
aftershocks
throughout
courts.
What
would
finally
solve
these
problems?
Legislative,
policy,
and
clerkship
transparency
changes.
The
federal
judiciary
is
exempt
from
Title
VII
of
the
Civil
Rights
Act.
Law
clerks
and
federal
public
defenders
cannot
sue
their
harassers
and
seek
damages
for
harms
done
to
their
lives,
careers,
reputations,
and
future
earning
potential.
Congress
should
reintroduce
and
pass
the
Judiciary
Accountability
Act
(JAA)
—
common-sense,
nonpartisan
legislation
that
would
correct
this
injustice
for
more
than
31,000
judiciary
employees
—
this
year.
Judges
should
not
be
uniquely
exempt
from
the
anti-discrimination
laws
they
enforce.
And
because
clerks
lack
legal
protection
against
retaliation,
they
are
routinely
silenced.
They
fear
speaking
up
about
mistreatment,
let
alone
filing
a
complaint
against
a
life-tenured
federal
judge.
Yet
if
clerks
do
not
file
complaints,
we’ll
never
hold
judges
accountable
for
misconduct,
change
judiciary
culture,
or
raise
the
bar
on
judiciary
workplace
civility.
Policy
changes
are
necessary,
too.
Revise
the
EDR
Plan
to
make
it
more
complainant-friendly
and
provide
meaningful
protection
against
retaliation.
Update
the
Judicial
Conduct
and
Disability
Act.
Create
multiple
confidential
reporting
channels.
And
hire
more
qualified,
better-trained
judiciary
points
of
contact
to
address
law
clerk
issues.
But
the
best
opportunity
in
a
generation
to
correct
the
secrecy,
opacity,
and
lack
of
accountability
in
judicial
clerkships
is
LAP’s
Centralized
Clerkships
Database,
legal
technology
that
democratizes
information
about
judges
as
managers
and
clerkship
experiences.
LAP’s
database
launches
in
a
few
days
for
the
first
cohort
of
student
users.
Current
and
former
clerks
nationwide
can
share
their
clerkship
experiences
with
LAP
and
with
prospective
clerks
from
every
law
school.
Students
applying
for
clerkships
can
register
now
for
database
access.
Soon,
they’ll
be
able
to
log
in
and
read
hundreds
of
candid
post-clerkship
surveys
to
help
them
identify
a
positive
working
relationship
and
avoid
judges
who
mistreat
clerks.
The
judiciary
has
failed
to
self-police.
Congress
could
hold
the
judiciary
accountable
through
legislative
oversight
but
has
failed
to
do
so.
So,
LAP
is
holding
judges
accountable
through
transparency
in
chambers
culture
and
workplace
treatment.
Judges
who
mistreat
clerks
can
no
longer
hid
behind
the
clerkships
whisper
network
and
the
professional
deference
they
take
for
granted.
Their
managerial
style,
chambers
culture,
and
treatment
of
clerks
will
be
on
display
for
any
clerkship
applicant
who
pays
$20
for
access
to
the
unvarnished
truth
about
judicial
clerkships
from
chambers
nationwide.
LAP
has
already
seen
judges
incentivized
to
change
their
behavior,
since
LAP’s
efforts
have
gained
national
traction.
I’m
glad
the
legal
profession
is
finally
talking
about
mistreatment
during
clerkships.
This
is
one
aspect
of
the
larger
cultural
change
I’ve
been
talking
about
for
several
years.
Negative
clerkship
experiences
are
not
rare.
Unfortunately,
they’re
still
rarely
shared
publicly.
We’re
changing
that
by
shining
a
public
spotlight
on
behavior
that
has
historically
been
shrouded
in
secrecy.
We
should
normalize
both
leaving
your
clerkship
early
if
you’re
mistreated
and
talking
about
it.
A
“challenging”
clerkship
is
never
“worth
it”
for
the
prestige.
Clerks
should
not
“tough
it
out.”
As
my
experience
illustrates,
it’s
not
just
a
year
of
your
life.
In
the
worst
circumstances,
it’s
a
year
that
could
derail
your
career.
Quitting
your
clerkship
should
be
no
bigger
deal
than
quitting
any
other
job.
It’s
a
big
decision.
You’ll
need
to
find
an
off-cycle
job
and
answer
questions
about
why
you
left
early.
But
it’s
feasible.
Others
have
done
it.
And
the
legal
profession
should
support
clerks.
Legal
employers
should
agree
not
to
call
judges
for
references
when
clerks
confide
that
they
were
mistreated.
Law
schools
should
affirmatively
reach
out
to
employers
to
assist
mistreated
clerks
with
their
post-clerkship
job
searches.
A
judiciary
point
of
contact
should
remind
judges
whose
clerks
quit
that
retaliating
against
them
violates
their
judicial
code
of
conduct
—
and
someone
is
watching.
The
legal
profession
has
conferred
overwhelming
and
unchecked
power
on
judges.
We’re
all
responsible
for
fixing
it.
I’m
glad
Judge
Cannon’s
clerks
did
not
“stick
it
out”
and
endure
mistreatment.
The
next
step
is
talking
about
it.
Rather
than
contribute
to
a
culture
of
silence
and
fear,
let’s
promote
a
culture
of
open
and
honest
dialogue
about
the
full
range
of
clerkship
experiences,
so
future
clerks
don’t
have
to
endure
what
too
many
of
us
endured,
and
still
others
continue
to
endure
in
silence.
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
X/Twitter
@AlizaShatzman.