A Better Judiciary Makes a Better Society: Advocating for Accountability in Judicial Clerkships
Where I spotlight Aliza Shatzman's advocacy and the story behind the struggle for accountability for judges and fairness and transparency for law clerks
I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing many impressive innovators. All of them have their unique strengths, charm, achievements, and stories. This article is the first in a series that I am calling, “Profiles in Innovation,” where I explore their stories. This first profile is of Aliza Shatzman. I hope you like it.
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In the hallowed halls of American courthouses, a troubling reality lurks behind the polished marble and ornate woodwork. For generations, the legal profession has presented judicial clerkships as the crown jewel of a young attorney's career path, a universally positive experience offering mentorship, professional advancement, and the best year of one's professional life. This narrative, however, masks a disturbing truth: judicial law clerks, those fresh-faced attorneys working directly for the most powerful members of our legal system, labor without the basic workplace protections afforded to virtually every other American worker.
"Judicial law clerks are exempt from ALL anti-discrimination protections," explains Aliza Shatzman, founder and president of the Legal Accountability Project. "Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the Americans with Disabilities Act, the Rehabilitation Act, paid family leave, union organizing, everything. They're exempt from basically all laws that would apply to you as a worker."
This startling legal reality forms the backbone of what Shatzman calls "one of the most urgent civil rights issues of our time," affecting over 30,000 federal judiciary employees, including law clerks, permanent staff, public defenders, and courthouse personnel.
From Law Student to Advocate: Aliza Shatzman's Journey
Shatzman's path to becoming a leading voice for judicial accountability began in suburban Philadelphia, where she was raised by a pediatrician mother and community college dean father. "I was pretty political and kind of activist-y, advocacy-oriented as a child," she recalls. "Some of my earliest memories are of going to the Million Mom March with my mom in D.C."
After graduating from Williams College in 2013, where she initially pursued pre-med studies before discovering her passion for politics and law, Shatzman eventually found her way to Washington University School of Law. There, she set her sights on becoming a homicide prosecutor in the D.C. U.S. Attorney's Office, understanding that a judicial clerkship would be a crucial stepping stone toward this goal.
"I knew that I wanted to use my law degree to create change, work in the public interest," Shatzman explains. "There was never a moment when I ever wanted to work at a law firm or kind of do anything other than public interest-oriented work."
Like countless law students before her, Shatzman heeded her law school's advice to "apply broadly" for clerkships and "accept the first clerkship you're offered." This seemingly innocuous guidance led her to a D.C. Superior Court clerkship for the 2019-2020 term, where she would experience harassment, termination, and ultimately, retaliation from a judge who is no longer on the bench.
"For anybody who doesn't know what a judicial clerkship is," Shatzman explains, "it's when a new attorney, fresh out of law school, maybe with a few years work experience, but it's a pretty entry-level position, will spend a year or two working for and learning from a judge."
What Shatzman didn't know at the time, what no one told her, was that if she encountered mistreatment during this clerkship, she would have virtually no legal recourse.
The Protection Gap: Law Clerks in Legal Limbo
When Title VII of the Civil Rights Act was passed in 1964, it applied primarily to private businesses. In the 1990s, Congress expanded these protections to cover congressional and executive branch employees through the Congressional Accountability Act and the Executive and Presidential Office Accountability Act. However, the federal judiciary fiercely opposed similar oversight, arguing that separation of powers principles gave them immunity from such regulation.
"They claimed separation of powers, which is really a judicial supremacy argument," Shatzman notes. "They believe they are above the laws."
This exemption creates a perfect storm of vulnerability for law clerks. They work in intimate settings with immensely powerful judges who hold life tenure and can make or break careers with a single phone call. As Shatzman puts it, "There is no greater power disparity in the legal profession right now than that of a life-tenured federal judge and a fresh out of law school judicial clerk in their first job, totally dependent on that judge for references and career advancement."
When Shatzman's clerkship turned toxic, culminating in her termination, she discovered this protection gap firsthand. In July 2021, as a recently fired law clerk seeking legal counsel, she learned she could not sue her harasser or seek damages for the harm done to her career and well-being.
This discovery ultimately led to her congressional testimony in March 2022 in support of the Judiciary Accountability Act (JAA), legislation designed to extend Title VII protections to judiciary employees. Shortly after this testimony, Shatzman founded the Legal Accountability Project to help ensure that future clerks would not face the same isolation and lack of recourse that she experienced.
The Systemic Failure of Self-Regulation
The federal judiciary has long insisted that it can effectively self-police. Its primary internal mechanism for addressing misconduct is the Employee Dispute Resolution (EDR) plan, supplemented by the Judicial Conduct and Disability Act complaint process. Yet the data tells a different story.
"The federal judiciary just released their first annual workplace report claiming the efficacy of the EDR plan," Shatzman explains. "Their report showed that over the past two years, from 2021 to 2023, only 9% of the 78 EDR matters were initiated by term law clerks. What does that mean? Fewer than seven complaints were filed by law clerks over two years. Fewer than five complaints per year."
Shatzman, who counsels mistreated clerks weekly, hears from more clerks per month than officially report through judiciary channels in an entire year. The reasons for this discrepancy are numerous and systemic:
"They tell me over and over, they would not, they have not, and would not report sexual harassment and misconduct to the federal judiciary," Shatzman reports. "They do not believe their concerns will be taken seriously. They do not think they'll be investigated vigorously."
The EDR process itself is fraught with problems. It's presided over by fellow judges in the same courthouse, friends and colleagues of the accused judge. "Judges are unable or unwilling to sit in impartial judgment of their colleagues," Shatzman notes. Even rank-and-file judges have privately expressed to her that they don't believe this is the right system.
Furthermore, the EDR process offers no monetary remedies for clerks who have been fired or retaliated against. Law clerks must navigate this complex pseudo-legal process largely on their own, as attorneys are often unwilling to represent them against judges in circuits where they regularly practice.
The alternative complaint mechanism under the Judicial Conduct and Disability Act, which could theoretically lead to a judge being reprimanded, suspended, or even impeached, is similarly underutilized, with fewer than five clerk complaints filed annually.
"We have historically lived in a culture of silence and fear," Shatzman explains, "one of deifying judges and disbelieving law clerks."
The Complicity of Law Schools
If the judiciary has failed to protect law clerks, law schools have failed to properly inform them of the risks. Instead, they continue to promote clerkships as universally positive experiences while concealing information about judges known to mistreat their clerks.
"Judicial clerkships are messaged at my law school, WashU, still to this day, and at literally every law school, and I have visited, I think, 50 of them at this point, as just a uniformly positive experience," Shatzman says. This rosy portrayal creates a dangerous disconnect between expectation and reality.
More troublingly, Shatzman discovered after her termination that her own law school had prior knowledge of her judge's mistreatment of other alumni but opted not to share this information with her. This pattern extends to the internal clerkship databases maintained by some law schools, which Shatzman describes as deeply flawed:
"The clerkship surveys in law schools' internal databases are almost uniformly positive, which leads you to question the veracity or the truthfulness of literally all the surveys, because, of course, not every law clerk's experience is positive."
When it comes to notoriously abusive judges, law school databases either contain no information at all or, more disturbingly, positive reviews with no disclaimers or warnings. "There is or should be legal liability for these law schools who have held out their databases as the go-to source for information and are negligently, willfully, ignorantly, or willfully leading students into abusive clerkships to increase their clerkship numbers," Shatzman argues.
The fundamental problem is one of misaligned incentives: law schools prioritize their clerkship placement numbers, which enhance their prestige and rankings, over the well-being of their students and alumni. "They are interested in increasing the number of students who clerk with little regard for whether the experience is positive," Shatzman says bluntly.
The Legal Accountability Project: Creating Transparency Where None Existed
In response to these systemic failures, Shatzman launched the Legal Accountability Project with a mission "to ensure that more judicial law clerks have a positive clerkship experience while extending support and resources to those who do not." The organization operates on values of transparency, accountability, diversity, equity, and empowerment.
The centerpiece of this work is a centralized clerkships database that functions as "Glassdoor for judges," a platform where former clerks can anonymously review their experiences. After 18 months of data collection, the database now contains nearly 1,500 reviews covering more than 1,000 judges, making it two to three times larger than any internal law school database.
"We have democratized judicial clerkship information," Shatzman explains. "We have upended the clerkship system and replaced the really dangerous clerkship whisper network, whereby those who are mistreated whispered fearfully to maybe a couple friends about the mistreatment."
For $40 per year, law students can access this treasure trove of candid information about judges as managers. The platform asks two mandatory questions: "Rate your clerkship experience: positive, neutral, or negative" and "Rate the judge as a manager: positive, neutral, or negative." This straightforward approach cuts through the euphemisms and omissions that characterize traditional clerkship advising.
"When I conceptualized this initiative," Shatzman explains, "it was really premised on what I understood a handful of law schools to be doing already... how do we get information about mistreatment from law clerks who have it and law schools who have it to the students who need it in a way that empowers those clerks and makes them less fearful about sharing that experience?"
The database launched for student users in April 2024 and quickly gained traction, with 1,000 student and young lawyer users in its first season. Shatzman projects that number will double this year, despite resistance from both law schools and the judiciary.
"We know we're doing something right if we're pissing off federal judges," she remarks with characteristic candor.
The mission of the American Legal Technology Awards is to hold up examples of excellence in creative innovation and technology in the legal industry for the purposes of (1) expanding our understanding of what is possible, (2) encouraging a virtuous cycle of improvement, and (3) creating a more just society.
Last year, Aliza received the award for individual achievement and her organization, the Legal Accountability Project, won in the court category.
The Fight for Legislative Reform
Beyond creating transparency through the database, the Legal Accountability Project advocates for legislative change, particularly the Judiciary Accountability Act (JAA), which would extend Title VII protections to judiciary employees.
The JAA was reintroduced in September 2024, following the resignation of another Ninth Circuit judge, Joshua Kindred, amid harassment allegations. While the legislation has some bipartisan support, including from Republican Senator Lisa Murkowski, its prospects in the current political climate remain uncertain.
"The federal judiciary fucking hates this legislation," Shatzman states plainly. "Their arguments are so ridiculous. For an entity that is just mired in scandal to bury their heads in the sand and decide no changes are necessary is just morally reprehensible."
Despite the challenges, Shatzman remains committed to this legislative advocacy. "We're going to keep at it," she affirms. "We know the federal judiciary is sitting up and taking notice. They are very afraid of my nonprofit, which is a great place to be in."
A Call to Future Clerks: Reject the Abuse Cycle
For law students considering clerkships, Shatzman offers unequivocal advice: "There is nothing more important than being mindful of who you clerk for. Clerkships are not created equal."
She warns against the common rationalization that one can "handle" a difficult judge despite negative reviews: "That is wrong. You should not handle it. Because first of all, you won't. You will almost certainly be coming back to LAP in six months when you are miserable or you've been fired. And if you don't, by working for an abusive judge, you are perpetuating the problem."
Shatzman urges students to consult the Legal Accountability Project database before interviewing for or accepting any clerkship. "If your law school is saying you should do it anyway, they are wrong and you should not listen to them," she cautions. "LAP has no misaligned incentives. I have no ulterior motive. My motive is ensuring that you as a law student go into a positive clerkship experience."
The only way to truly change the system, she argues, is for students to collectively refuse to work for abusive judges. "Please, please don't endure an abusive clerkship," she implores. "The only way to change the system is if every single one of you says no to abuse and says, I'm going to demand better for myself and for my peers."
Looking Forward: A Lifetime of Advocacy
When asked what makes this work fulfilling despite its challenges, Shatzman points to the impact she sees in individual lives: "I am really galvanized by the mistreated clerks who reach out to me to share their negative experiences and to say that I empowered them to report."
She shares that numerous clerks have told her that "hearing me speak and following LAP's work is what empowered them to quit their abusive clerkships early or to file judicial complaints against their abusive judges."
This mission of empowerment and accountability drives Shatzman to continue her work, even knowing it may be a lifetime project. "It is the larger accountability piece," she explains. "Accountability for the law schools who've received a free pass and who should be held liable for misleading their students. Accountability for the abusive judges who have harassed their clerks with impunity for decades."
For Shatzman, this isn't just about improving clerkships, it's about justice for those who have been silenced and creating structural change in a system resistant to reform. It's about ensuring that future law students don't have to endure what she and countless others have experienced.
And it's about a fundamental truth captured in her organization's motto: A better judiciary makes a better society.
This article is the first in a series of Profiles in Innovation, where I spotlight the stories and achievements of innovators and how they think differently.
Aliza Shatzman is the president and founder of the Legal Accountability Project. To learn more or support their work, visit LegalAccountabilityProject.org.
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