The
judiciary
is
uniquely
insulated
from
scrutiny,
and
uniquely
unaccountable
to
the
public,
I
told
the
House
Judiciary
Committee’s
Subcommittee
on
the
Courts,
Intellectual
Property,
and
the
Internet
four
years
ago
this
month,
in
written
testimony
to
advocate
for
the
Judiciary
Accountability
Act
(JAA).
That
legislation,
which
I’ve
since
helped
reintroduce,
would
finally
extend
Title
VII
of
the
Civil
Rights
Act
and
other
federal
anti-discrimination
protections
to
more
than
30,000
exempt
judiciary
employees,
including
law
clerks
like
myself,
permanent
court
staff,
and
public
defenders.
Back
then,
I
was
a
family
law
attorney
trying
to
regain
my
footing
after
I
was
harassed,
fired,
and
retaliated
against
during
and
after
my
judicial
clerkship.
Not
only
was
I
singled
out
for
mistreatment
and
fired
during
the
COVID-19
pandemic
but,
a
year
later,
after
securing
my
dream
job
at
the
U.S.
Attorney’s
Office
(USAO),
then
then-judge
provided
a
false,
negative
reference
about
me,
causing
the
USAO
to
deny
me
a
security
clearance
and
revoke
my
job
offer.
Unlike
most
mistreated
clerks,
I
not
only
filed
a
complaint,
but
I
turned
my
negative
experience
into
something
positive,
launching
The
Legal
Accountability
Project
(LAP)
to
correct
injustices
I
personally
experienced
as
a
student
and
clerk,
including
a
lack
of
transparency
in
clerkship
hiring
and
a
lack
of
accountability
for
judges
who
abuse
their
power.
Over
the
past
four
years,
LAP
sparked
a
nationwide
clerkship
transparency
and
judicial
accountability
movement
through
innovative
legal
technology,
legislative
advocacy,
and
thought
leadership.
Our
nationwide
Clerkships
Database
(“Glassdoor
for
Judges”),
which
celebrates
its
second
birthday
next
month,
has
already
served
over
4,000
law
students
and
recent
graduates
with
candid
clerkship
information.
LAP’s
Database
contains
over
2,000
honest
reviews
about
more
than
1,200
judges.
Law
clerks
review
the
judges
they
worked
for
—
anonymously
if
they
choose;
judges
cannot
access
it,
ensuring
honest
feedback;
and
students
pay
a
small
fee
to
access
exponentially
more
information
than
they
otherwise
could
when
applying
for
clerkships.
It’s
the
resource
I
wish
existed
as
a
Washington
University
School
of
Law
student
applying
for
clerkships
a
decade
ago,
inspired
by
my
school’s
inaction:
WashU
failed
to
warn
me
that
the
judge
who
mistreated
me
had
mistreated
others,
and
those
clerks
had
no
safe
place
to
share
their
experience
without
fear
of
retribution.
LAP
advocates
for
both
the
JAA
and
the
TRUST
Act,
which
would
revise
the
judicial
complaint
process
so
misconduct
investigations
can
continue
even
after
judges
step
down
to
evade
accountability
—
inspired
by
former
judge
Kesha
Tanabe’s
resignation
under
those
circumstances,
and
still
necessary,
since
former
judge
Mark
Wolf
did
the
same
thing
late
last
year.
We’ve
also
urged
Congress
to
use
oversight,
appropriations,
and
the
bully
pulpit
to
force
change.
While
some
congressional
staffers
may
not
appreciate
my
descriptions
of
their
bosses’
infuriating
inaction
—
spineless,
feckless,
cowardly,
and
overly
cautious
—
I
wouldn’t
criticize
if
Congress
did
its
job.
The
judiciary
deserves
blame
for
refusing
to
implement
reform,
but
so
does
Congress.
These
are
congressional
problems
requiring
congressional
solutions.
Congress’
shameful
failure
to
act
by
reintroducing
legislation;
sending
oversight
letters,
holding
a
shadow
hearing,
and
asking
questions
about
workplace
conduct
when
judiciary
officials
appear
before
Congress;
tying
the
judiciary’s
budget
request
to
meaningful
benchmarks
for
ethics
reform;
and
using
the
bully
pulpit
to
educate
the
public
about
the
scope
of
the
problem
and
change
hearts
and
minds,
must
be
called
out
until
they
do.
Congress
seems
intent
on
burying
their
heads
in
the
sand
and
basically
enabling
judicial
misconduct,
given
what
a
light
lift
an
oversight
letter
is
and
the
variety
of
arguably
less
urgent
topics
members
wade
into
instead.
Legal
academia
and
the
judiciary
look
very
different
from
just
four
years
ago.
Today’s
law
students
won’t
remember
a
time
when
clerkship
hiring
was
less
than
transparent.
Law
clerks
won’t
remember
when
negative
clerkship
experiences
weren’t
discussed,
and
when
mistreated
clerks
had
nowhere
to
go
for
support.
The
media
covers
harassment
in
the
courts
(though
some
publications
remain
silent)
and
it’s
a
topic
of
mainstream
discussion.
Attorneys
and
law
school
administrators
no
longer
pretend
clerkships
are
universally
positive
experiences
and
even
provide
platforms
to
discuss
negative
ones.
Schools
promote
LAP’s
Database
to
students
—
even
some
that
used
to
tell
students
I
wanted
to
“abolish
clerkships”
—
and
a
handful
even
pay
to
subscribe.
It’s
a
total
shift
in
the
zeitgeist.
We’ve
pressured
the
judiciary
to
release
data
and
reports
they
probably
otherwise
wouldn’t
have;
to
make
some
policy
changes;
and
to
discipline
some
judges,
even
getting
a
few
off
the
bench
entirely.
As
a
former
mistreated
clerk
whose
life
and
career
were
upended
by
the
flawed
systems
I’m
working
to
fix
—
and
someone
who’s
impatient
with
the
pace
of
change
—
systemic
progress
feels
glacial.
Frankly,
until
we
have
a
judiciary
expert
in
Congress
—
and
more
members
who
understand
their
oversight
responsibility
and
care
about
holding
those
who
abuse
their
power
accountable
—
these
problems
won’t
be
solved
from
within.
There’s
much
more
work
to
do.
LAP
has
inspired
some
clerks
to
report
misconduct.
We
also
file
complaints
ourselves.
But
more
must
report.
At
least
106
law
clerks
endured
actionable
wrongful
conduct
in
2023,
according
to
the
judiciary’s
own
survey
—
a
survey
the
judiciary
has
not
repeated
since
then,
and
one
for
which
not
one
single
member
of
Congress
has
asked
a
single
question
or
sent
a
single
oversight
letter.
If
even
a
quarter
of
them
filed
complaints,
it
would
be
a
sea
change
that
would
force
the
judiciary’s
hand
—
if
only
to
avoid
bad
press
—
to
invest
time,
hire
more
investigators,
request
more
money
from
Congress,
and
either
discipline
those
judges
or
make
meaningful
policy
changes
(or
both).
We’ve
also
proven
whistleblowing
is
impactful,
not
shameful:
those
who’ve
reported
have
been
applauded,
not
scorned
or
retaliated
against.
Sadly,
the
judiciary
won’t
implement
reforms
unless
Congress
forces
them
to,
and
they
know
Congress
won’t.
Spineless
congressional
Democrats
are
too
cautious,
too
comfortable,
solely
obsessed
with
Trump,
and
believe
constituents
won’t
hold
them
accountable
for
refusing
to
act.
I’ve
never
encountered
more
cowardly
political
tribalism
on
a
particularly
bipartisan
issue,
considering
both
Democratic
and
Republican
judicial
appointees
harass
their
clerks,
and
both
liberal
and
conservative
clerks
endure
mistreatment
without
recourse.
House
Judiciary
Democrats
won’t
hold
Democratic
appointees,
or
judges
who’ve
ruled
against
the
Trump
administration,
accountable
because
they
fear
they’d
be
replaced
with
Trump
sycophants.
Ironically,
“Judiciary”
is
in
the
Committee’s
name,
yet
there’s
been
no
action
for
years
on
judicial
accountability.
Even
when
Democrats
had
the
House
majority,
they
did
basically
nothing
to
hold
judges
accountable.
Democrats’
statements
about
accountability
and
transparency
for
Trump
administration
abuses
of
power
ring
hollow,
when
they
refuse
to
hold
judges
—
the
most
powerful
and
unaccountable
members
of
our
government
—
accountable.
What
hypocrisy.
The
federal
judiciary
is
at
least
as
unaccountable
as
the
president:
exempt
from
many
laws
while
wielding
enormous
power
over
the
country.
Yet
unaccountable
judges
will
be
on
the
bench
far
longer
than
Trump
will
be
in
power
and,
given
how
unlikely
Congress
is
to
hold
judges
accountable
anytime
soon,
judges
will
be
above
the
law
far
longer.
Congress
won’t
engage
even
when
judicial
misconduct
is
in
the
news.
Consider
this:
the
clerk
who
filed
the
complaint
against
Judge
Lydia
Kay
Griggsby
is
a
constituent
of
a
House
Judiciary
Democrat,
yet
their
congresswoman
refused
to
send
an
oversight
letter
to
the
Administrative
Office
of
the
U.S.
Courts
(AO)
regarding
the
judiciary’s
aforementioned
workplace
climate
survey,
even
after
I
provided
her
office
with
what
she’d
need
to
simply
sign
her
name
and
offered
to
write
the
letter
myself.
I’ve
told
that
congresswoman
and
her
staff
that
she’s
not
doing
her
job
of
conducting
oversight
over
the
courts.
Her
constituents
should
hold
her
accountable,
but
she
probably
assumes
they
won’t
know,
understand,
or
care.
I
think
voters
are
smarter
than
that,
and
they
care
about
corruption
and
abuses
of
power
as
much
as
kitchen
table
issues.
Most
people
understand
this
disturbing
irony:
judges
interpret
our
laws
while
not
subject
to
those
same
laws,
committing
misconduct
behind
the
bench
while
adjudicating
others’
misconduct
in
front
of
the
bench.
Judges
rule
on
Title
VII
(harassment)
cases
while
under
investigation
for
harassment.
We
cannot
trust
judges
to
be
fair
and
impartial
arbiters
of
disputes
when
their
own
workplace
conduct
is
so
lawless.
We
are
not
powerless.
I
couldn’t
in
good
conscience
encourage
anyone
to
apply
for
clerkships
without
subscribing
to
LAP’s
Database.
Applicants
should
take
agency
over
their
lives
and
careers
and
inform
themselves
before
applying.
And
clerks
should
submit
surveys
—
positive,
negative,
or
nuanced.
LAP
wants
to
hear
everything.
This
is
accountability
through
transparency.
Mistreated
clerks
say
they
wish
this
resource
existed
when
they
were
applying;
and
if
they
knew
how
bad
their
clerkships
would
be,
they
wouldn’t
have
accepted
them.
Now,
they
should
file
complaints.
It’s
more
empowering
than
it
is
daunting.
And
the
public
should
make
their
voices
heard
regarding
lawless
judges.
Do
we
want
judges
interpreting
our
laws
and
deciding
our
rights
who
are
above
the
law?
Whether
you
clerked
or
not,
whether
you’re
an
attorney
or
not
—
the
lack
of
accountability
in
our
judiciary
threatens
all
of
us.
Tell
your
member
of
Congress
to
send
an
oversight
letter,
sign
onto
legislation,
withhold
judiciary
funding
until
reforms
are
implemented,
pen
an
op-ed,
or
use
the
bully
pulpit
right
now.
And
if
they
won’t
act,
2026
is
an
election
year:
fire
them
and
replace
them
with
someone
who
will.
It’s
easy
to
lose
sight
of
the
cultural
change
LAP
has
created.
I
get
frustrated
when
institutions
with
the
resources
to
solve
these
problems
won’t
act,
knowing
more
clerks
will
endure
what
I
endured
in
the
meantime.
As
someone
who
identified
an
unmet
need
four
years
ago
and
filled
the
void
myself,
there’s
no
one
more
motivated
to
create
meaningful
change
than
someone
working
to
fix
systems
that
personally
screwed
them
over.
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.