Lawyers in Backsliding Democracy
This Article explores the role of lawyers in democratic backsliding—the degradation of democratic institutions and practices using law rather than violence. The Article’s central aim is to set an agenda and outline an approach to studying the professional paradox at the center of backsliding: why and how lawyers attack the rule of law. It thus seeks to shift the scholarly lens from the conventional view of lawyers as defenders of democracy to investigate lawyers as authors of autocracy. Toward that end, the Article theorizes the legal profession as a site of backsliding, outlining a framework that positions lawyers in relation to distinct pathways of autocratization on the slow road of gradual democratic decline and the fast track of imminent democratic attack. On the slow road, the Article draws upon evidence of structural change in the American legal profession to suggest how the erosion of key democratic functions performed by lawyers increases backsliding risk by reducing trust in the legal system and commitment to the rule of law. On the fast track, using the 2020 Stop the Steal campaign as a case study, the Article shows how lawyers in moments of democratic crisis engage in legal mobilization to weaponize distrust, fusing legal and media tactics to legitimize false claims and justify invocation of extraordinary power. The Article concludes by calling for changes to U.S. professional regulation and education to strengthen democratic resilience, while mapping a research agenda for comparative study of antidemocratic lawyering in unsettled times.
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Introduction
One of the most extraordinary revelations from the House Select Committee Report on the January 6 Attack—buttressed by two indictments against former President Donald Trump for election interference[1]—was the role played by lawyers, sworn to uphold the rule of law, who led an assault on American democracy.[2] Though less overt, their conduct was perhaps even more consequential and far-reaching than the January 6 Attack itself. While the details are well known, they nonetheless mark a stunning departure in American history. Lawyers from a range of backgrounds and practice settings sought to undo the 2020 presidential election through a trio of coordinated actions: filing roughly sixty unsuccessful lawsuits in key battleground states to overturn their results,[3] propagating false (some outlandishly so) claims of election fraud to undermine the election’s legitimacy,[4] and offering strategic advice on how to resist the peaceful transition of power after Trump’s loss.[5]
In the period since the 2020 election attack, Trump lawyers have faced unprecedented scrutiny from the media, public advocacy groups, and the bar for their involvement.[6] In self-defense, they claim to have been serving as zealous advocates in pursuit of client interests,[7] acting based on their own belief in the truth of election fraud—in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.[8] In a prominent example, Rudolph Giuliani, the former personal lawyer for Trump and architect of the “Stop the Steal” campaign,[9] defended himself against New York State Bar disciplinary charges by claiming a right to assert that the election was stolen based on unverified information provided in the heat of battle.[10] The Trump election interference indictments significantly raise the stakes for the lawyers implicated and will affect bar action and public attitudes moving forward.[11] As it stands, key ethics cases against Trump lawyers remain unresolved, many of the lawyers remain unrepentant, and large segments of the population continue to believe “The Big Lie.”[12] The legally complex and politically polarizing nature of the Trump lawyer cases poses an unprecedented challenge to the legitimacy of the profession as a self-governing body responsible for producing lawyers committed to the rule of law, raising calls for decisive bar action to prevent future democratic attacks.[13]
While this Article endorses bar action against Trump lawyer misconduct, its analysis of that misconduct is placed in service of a larger agenda: to better understand the legal profession’s fraught relationship with American democracy in this particular moment of “peril.”[14] As democracies around the globe are in retreat,[15] American democracy—the oldest continuous constitutional republic in the world—has confronted Trumpism as its most serious threat in a century.[16] Against the backdrop of that threat, this Article leverages attention that legal attacks on the 2020 election have brought to professional ethics to consider the role of lawyers in what scholars have labeled “democratic backsliding”: the degradation of democratic institutions and practices using law rather than violence.[17] In the context of U.S. backsliding, the Trump lawyers’ specific attacks on legality sit on the edge of the “new abnormal,” different in kind from prior professional “crises,”[18] which must be understood in relation to longer-term shifts in political economy and the legal profession that have contributed to democratic decline and are urgent for the profession to now address.[19] In this sense, the Article uses the extreme case of Trump lawyering to explore broader professional dynamics and to consider what the 2020 election attacks may teach about structural vulnerabilities in the rule of law.
The Article’s central contribution is to explore the legal profession as a site of democratic backsliding and illuminate the role that lawyers play in contributing to democracy’s decline. While the concept of backsliding has gained significant attention over the past decade among political scientists—who debate its meaning,[20] the indices used to measure it,[21] and the degree to which it is happening worldwide[22]—it has only recently been introduced into legal scholarship on “autocratic legalism.”[23] One of the central lessons from this literature is that recent successes by autocrats—including Vladimir Putin in Russia, Recep Erdoğon in Turkey, and Viktor Orbán in Hungary—dismantling democracy have occurred not through violent coups but rather through ostensibly legal action that undermines the foundations of liberal democracy.[24] For autocrats seeking to push democracy into a state of breakdown,[25] it is critical to have the law—or at least the appearance of legality—on their side.
Yet while the autocratic legalism literature helpfully spotlights law as an essential tool of backsliding, it has largely ignored the actors who wield this tool: lawyers.[26] This is a significant omission since lawyers, as the 2020 election attacks revealed, serve as crucial gatekeepers to legal institutions targeted by autocratization and are necessary to authorize illiberal change by drafting new laws and officially sanctioning their constitutional validity. Indeed, precisely because lawyers are guardians of the legal legitimacy upon which backsliding depends, the legal profession is a critical arena of autocratic struggle that merits special attention. Accordingly, this Article’s central aim is to set forth an agenda and outline an approach designed to shed new light on the professional paradox at the center of democratic backsliding: why and how lawyers attack the rule of law. Although this project focuses on the United States, where credible democracy observers have identified significant rule-of-law erosion over the past decade,[27] the goal is to introduce concepts that can be studied comparatively in other countries where backsliding is on the rise.[28]
Toward that end, Part I lays the foundation for the Article’s approach, synthesizing lessons from the democracy literature to map the role of lawyers in relation to two distinct pathways of autocratization: the slow road of democratic decline and the fast track of democratic attack. It argues that situating lawyers along these pathways can help researchers evaluate structural determinants of lawyer participation in backsliding and the strategies used to effectuate it. Part II considers the role of lawyers on the slow road by exploring how professional erosion may predict and enable democratic backsliding. Specifically, it suggests how structural changes in legal practice and education may contribute to the deterioration of key democratic functions performed by lawyers, reducing faith in the legal system and commitment to the rule of law. Professional erosion draws attention to the democratic importance of lawyers’ norms and practices, presenting their retrogression as “canaries in the coalmine” of American democracy.[29] Part III turns to look at lawyers on the fast track, examining legal strategy in the dangerous pivot from gradual democratic decline to imminent assault. Using the 2020 Stop the Steal campaign as a case study, it outlines how lawyers mobilize law in moments of crisis to threaten democracy by fusing legal and media tactics to weaponize false claims and justify invocation of extraordinary power. This antidemocratic legal mobilization seeks, paradoxically, to use the symbolic power of law to undermine faith in the very legal rules designed to stop authoritarian leaders from concentrating power. Responding to dangers along both autocratic pathways, Part IV calls for changes to professional regulation and education to strengthen resilience against real-time democratic attacks and longer-term professional decline. It also makes the case for widening the comparative study of lawyers in backsliding across political contexts to bolster democratic resistance to autocratic forces in an unsettled future.
Having outlined the Article’s aims, it is important to stress at the outset what lies beyond its scope. This Article does not seek to defend American democracy, which is profoundly flawed, or indict the entire American legal profession, which is complex and heterogeneous. Rather, it identifies some ways in which important albeit imperfect American institutions, particularly elections and courts, have come under recent attack and analyzes how some lawyers have contributed to that attack—while others have resisted. Recognizing American democracy’s deep problems, this Article nonetheless argues that there are better versions of democracy worth struggling to achieve and that in that struggle, lawyers have special roles to play in protecting core principles and practices. The ultimate goal is not to defend a particular substantive vision of democracy but rather to explore how legal mobilization against accepted rule-of-law foundations can destabilize the conditions necessary to sustain democracy over time.
In doing so, this Article does not seek to theorize democracy, although it does grapple with the complexity of determining when legal actions cross the line from legitimate challenges within the bounds of the adversarial process to illegitimate attacks on democratic principles and institutions. This requires conceptualizing criteria for what counts as “democracy” and when legal action transgresses its core features. Toward this end, the Article defines antidemocratic legal mobilization as the use of legal strategies, in court and behind the scenes, to attack the legitimacy of essential “democratic” (free and fair elections), “liberal” (the right to speak, assemble, and vote), and “rule of law” (judicial and prosecutorial independence) elements of liberal democracy. Attacks on these core elements should be considered out of bounds by political leaders and lawyers of all ideological stripes. As this Article shows, the 2020 election attacks crossed into antidemocratic territory when they used false claims of voting fraud to build a legal case for rejecting valid election results. What makes such attacks different and more dangerous than even the most hard-edged conflicts over policy—which often involve mendacious claims—are that they seek to subvert the democratic rules of the game, which hold that after a bitterly fought election, the loser accepts the results. While backsliding in the United States has been associated with right-wing populism, this Article does not suggest that the ills of democracy all stem from the radicalization of political conservatives. To the contrary, by arguing for a comparative perspective, it shows that moves against liberal democracy may also come from the political left.
Accordingly, even as this Article spotlights recent democratic attacks in America, it is attuned to the experiences of other countries and mindful of lessons from history. These lessons teach that there is no neutral point from which to measure backsliding in democracy, which is volatile and messy, and that this is not the first time that lawyers have been implicated in assaults on liberal democratic institutions. Indeed, there are numerous historical examples of democratic decline—from Nazi Germany to Fascist Italy—in which lawyers functioned as essential enablers.[30] Nevertheless, comparative research shows that contemporary democracies confront vastly different economic, political, and technological landscapes in which the tools of autocratic legalism are being deployed with new vigor and guile, and shared through global networks. The frequency and intensity with which democracy has recently come under siege around the globe—and the novel legal strategies that are being used—warrant fresh thinking about the role of the legal profession in backsliding at this particularly fraught moment.
I.The Legal Profession as a Site of Backsliding
Appreciating the role that lawyers play in backsliding requires shifting away from the conventional view of lawyers as defenders of democracy to ask why and how some lawyers come to serve as authors of autocracy. Toward that end, Part I brings together the two literatures at the center of this project—on democratic backsliding and the legal profession—to present a theoretical perspective that illuminates the roles that lawyers may play along distinctive pathways of autocratization. This perspective maps lawyers’ roles in relation to structural change on the slow road of democratic decline (the concept of professional erosion) and in relation to deliberate strategy on the fast track to democratic collapse (the concept of antidemocratic legal mobilization).
A. Pathways of Autocratization
Understanding how backsliding carves pathways toward autocracy, and the role lawyers play, requires clarifying key terms.[31] Democracy—rule by the people, for the people—is elegantly simple but notoriously hard to define. Its core principles include treating all citizens as political equals, providing each person the right to participate in self-governance, and guaranteeing inclusive and responsive structures of collective decision-making.[32] In a liberal democracy, majority rule is cabined by individual rights guarded by an independent judiciary alongside other institutional checks to protect individuals against majoritarian power.[33] These checks are the bedrock of what is understood as the rule of law. Autocracy is the obverse of democracy: rule by a single absolute leader or small group without genuine electoral accountability or checks and balances.[34] Autocracy is often used interchangeably with authoritarianism, although the two ideas are distinct. Autocracy refers to the form of government (singular power), while authoritarianism refers to the style of governance (demanding obedience through repressive measures).[35] Autocrats typically rule by authoritarian means, so the concepts go hand in hand, although scholars have mapped varieties of authoritarianism that contain democratic elements.[36] Illiberalism and populism are other terms associated with backsliding.[37] Illiberalism is used to characterize systems with majority-based decision-making but lacking minority rights, civil liberties, and adequate checks and balances.[38] Populism conventionally refers to efforts to assemble democratic majorities based on appeals to nationalism, xenophobia, revolutionary ideology, or other anti-pluralistic ideologies.[39] Populism, which can take on right- or left-wing forms, is portrayed as the vehicle that delivers illiberal policy and thus contributes to backsliding.[40]
In reality, democracy and autocracy live on a spectrum, and elements of both types coexist in hybrid states.[41] Even in long-term democracies, there are ongoing, often concurrent instances of progression and regression. For example, in the United States, there are well-documented patterns of state-by-state geographic disparity with respect to fundamental protections, including voting rights and political inclusion.[42] History also provides examples of contradictory democratic action: liberal and illiberal at the same time. During the 1930s and 1940s, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt presided over the New Deal, one of the largest expansions of social democracy in American history,[43] while authorizing instances of staggering authoritarian action, notably, the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II.[44] The point is that democracy is neither static nor linear. It contains internal contradictions, and the quality of democratic institutions ebbs and flows. Understanding backsliding therefore begins from the critical premise that democracy is never pure,[45] as underscored by the racial subordination at the core of the American democratic experience.[46]
Nevertheless, the central idea of backsliding is that democracy can fall below previously established levels and move closer to autocracy.[47] Leading democracy indices measure backsliding as drops from prior baselines in relation to fundamental properties. For example, the V-Dem Institute measures democracy based on year-to-year expert analyses of factors that include the quality of elections (who can vote, how easy it is to vote, voting irregularities, turnout, legitimacy of results), the diversity and type of political parties, the degree to which courts are independent of political rulers, the breadth and freedom of civil society organizations, media freedom, and freedom of expression.[48] Based on these metrics, V-Dem has concluded that democracy is at its lowest ebb since the fall of the Berlin Wall, which accelerated the “third wave” of global democratization.[49] As of 2023, there were only thirty-two countries classified as liberal democracies around the world, eleven fewer than the previous decade and the lowest number since 1995.[50]
As this suggests, a critical starting point for backsliding research is defining a shared definition of democracy such that backsliding is not a function of disputes over specific policy questions but rather a result of deterioration in the quality of rules of the game—which should be cause for alarm across the ideological divide and irrespective of political consequences.[51] A minimalist conception of democracy focuses on institutions and practices rather than policies. Although the precise definition of minimalist democracy is deeply contested,[52] competitive elections are widely considered a foundational element.[53] Other “floor” requirements in Tom Ginsburg and Aziz Huq’s formulation include rights to speech and association (which are necessary to enable political participation) and commitment to the rule of law effectuated through institutional checks on executive power and even-handed legal administration by courts and bureaucratic actors.[54] The degradation of these democratic elements constitutes backsliding. Such degradation is driven forward by partisan political formations and therefore is unavoidably ideological. However, such formations do not inherently skew in one political direction; rather, they may emerge from the right or left depending on political context. Although democratic backsliding in places like the United States, Hungary, and Brazil is fueled by right-wing populism, scholars studying backsliding in places like Venezuela and Ecuador highlight populist mobilization by left-wing leaders using revolutionary ideology or pan-national solidarity to attack rule-of-law restraints on their power.[55] In either case, the result is executive aggrandizement through limits on the media and political dissent, the reduction or elimination of checks and balances, and the manipulation of electoral processes.
A fundamental question motivating backsliding research is “how democracies die.”[56] This question has galvanized the attention of democracy scholars,[57] as well as activists, judges, and political leaders seeking to strengthen democratic resilience.[58] The academic literature distinguishes between two pathways of autocratization: slow processes of “democratic erosion” and fast processes of “authoritarian collapse.”[59] Slow democratic erosion happens in incremental steps that, at each individual point, may seem defensible but over time combine to degrade the “predicates of democracy.”[60] Fast collapse, in turn, happens quickly in dramatic fashion, often through invocation of emergency powers by a legitimately elected leader to grasp illegitimate control.[61] The demise of democracy in the contemporary period is far more likely to occur on the slow road through gradual internal decay than on the fast track of decisive attack.[62] Yet gradual backsliding can create conditions of possibility for decisive attacks to occur and thus the two pathways ultimately intersect.
To succeed without violence, autocratization requires democratic legitimation—presenting illiberal actions (like packing the court or limiting fundamental rights) as vehicles to promote the majority will.[63] To achieve this, autocrats must walk a fine line. On the one hand, to overcome existing democratic institutions, they must delegitimize the old order by promoting distrust of the status quo to justify sweeping change. On the other hand, to effectuate change, they must appear to follow legal process, violating the spirit but not the form of liberal constitutionalism. Autocrats therefore cloak attacks on the rule of law in the language of law,[64] using legal “tactics” to defend changes that undermine the “liberal” dimension of liberal democracy.[65] And for this, they need lawyers.
A key lesson from the backsliding literature—providing the foundation for this Article’s study of lawyers—is that autocratization occurs as structural change meets deliberate strategy.[66] As Kim Lane Scheppele notes, for democracies to die through legal maneuvers, they must have already been sick, a point that highlights the importance of deteriorating structural conditions that support democracy.[67] Structural change, such as rising economic inequality and polarization, can facilitate backsliding by elevating new grievances, scrambling traditional political alliances, and providing new tools for building populist support.[68] Structural change by no means guarantees backsliding will occur in any particular fashion or even at all; rather, it increases risk. For risk to become reality, backsliding requires motivated leaders with capacity to mobilize legal strategies to pit democracy against the constitutional guardrails that sustain liberalism.[69] These strategies, part of the autocratic “playbook,”[70] include formal reforms that concentrate executive power, as well as subversion of informal norms that hold leaders back from exploiting democratic loopholes for extreme partisan advantage.[71]
B. When Professional Pillars Erode
A structural perspective looks at how macro-level trends destabilizing democracy reshape lawyer norms and practices, contributing to professional erosion that, in turn, enables further backsliding. Professional erosion occurs when critical democratic functions performed by lawyers weaken over time. Erosion happens through structural shifts in political economy, such as the marketization of legal practice, and through specific acts of policy-making, such as the reduction in legal aid, which weaken the profession’s democratic role over time. Understanding this erosion (the focus of Part II) requires establishing the foundation from which it occurs, which rests on three professional pillars essential to the rule of law: fairness, independence, and authority.
Fairness. In a self-regulating profession, lawyers monopolize the practice of law and must ensure their services are available to everyone irrespective of resources, identity, or power as a matter of fundamental fairness.[72] Accordingly, lawyers in democracy are expected, through legal aid and pro bono work, to guarantee meaningful access to justice. In the civil system, this requires helping individuals vindicate rights against more powerful legal actors.[73] In the criminal system, this requires providing quality defense to individuals confronting a loss of liberty at the hand of the state.[74] To balance the scales of justice, lawyers are further expected to counteract systemic resource or political disadvantages by representing underrepresented groups through public interest law and supporting legal mobilization by democratic movements.[75]
Independence. Given that lawyers control access to legal institutions and the meaning of law, they serve a critical gatekeeping role screening legitimate legal claims.[76] This role applies in court, where lawyers must assert nonfrivolous legal arguments and truthful factual claims,[77] and outside of court, where lawyers must advise clients on the legality of their prospective behavior and vouch for client actions in regulatory settings.[78] Because law is indeterminate, lawyers in both arenas are required to exercise ethical discretion to ensure client legal claims align with principles of systemic justice.[79] This means that even as lawyers zealously advocate client interests, they must remain ethically independent from clients to guarantee that they do not wield law contrary to its public purposes. Public lawyers, including prosecutors and government legal advisors, have special obligations in this regard, guaranteeing that when legal decisions have a policy impact, they are made in the public interest and not for partisan advantage.[80]
Authority. In an adversarial system based on the principle that the clash of opposing positions is a vehicle to assign rights and allocate blame, lawyers make legal arguments based on mutually agreed-upon facts established through evidentiary processes of discovery and testimony at trial. As zealous advocates, lawyers are permitted to make aggressive legal arguments—to “spin” the law in favor of clients—but they are not allowed to fabricate facts, ignore relevant legal authority, or attack the system’s legitimacy. In this way, lawyers ensure the authority of law, which depends on the integrity of legal outcomes and mutual tolerance between legal adversaries, who must respect each other’s positions (even if they disagree) and accept the legitimacy of results (especially when they lose).
While these pillars are central to functionalist accounts of lawyers as defenders of democracy[81] and find support in the ethics rules,[82] American lawyers as a whole have historically not lived up to their standards. The U.S. legal profession has an ignominious history of limiting admission to maximize profit and prestige,[83] excluding racial and religious minorities,[84] designing rules to minimize public accountability,[85] and failing to police lawyer misconduct.[86] The legal profession, like democracy itself, is deeply flawed. Nevertheless, as with democratic backsliding, professional decline can be measured relative to “crises” that shift baselines over time. Almost thirty years ago, David Luban and Michael Millemann argued that “[t]he current Crisis is unique in several respects,” suggesting “that it might be The Big One.”[87] One aspect of “The Big One” was what Yale Law School Dean Anthony Kronman called the decline of “political fraternity” caused by lawyers’ pursuit of profit and the polarization of politics, unraveling lawyers’ commitment to the public good.[88] Since that time, there has been a further unraveling, from The Big One to The Big Lie,[89] shaped by the intensification of these longer-term trends and new challenges—the rise of populism, conspiracism, and authoritarianism—that intensify professional erosion and increase the risk of attacks on the rule of law.
C. When Lawyers Attack the Rule of Law
A strategic perspective on backsliding looks at the legal strategies and materials lawyers use to advance antidemocratic legal mobilization, understood as legal moves against the core elements of liberal democracy outlined above: competitive elections, fundamental rights to political participation, and judicial and administrative checks on power. By tracing legal methods, this perspective highlights the range of tools lawyers may draw upon to target democratic elements—from redrafting formal legal rules on elections (such as who may vote and when) to degrade the quality of democratic participation to dismantling informal constraints on executive authority (such as prosecutorial independence) in direct attacks on the rule of law. As this suggests, strategic analysis focuses on precisely how legal mobilization contributes to democratic backsliding, whether it occurs in the form of democratic decline on the slow road or democratic takedown on the fast track. While the temporal line between decline and collapse can be blurry, the strategies are distinctive (as depicted in Figure 1).
Strategies associated with decline target formal constitutional rules and informal democratic norms over longer time frames, often justified in terms of legitimate policy concerns and carried out through technically legal means. Such strategies include restricting the franchise through gerrymandered voting districts and taking control of electoral commissions, packing courts and prosecutors’ offices with loyalists, suppressing free speech and political dissidents to hamper the opposition, and relaxing or eliminating term limits.[90] The strategies of collapse, in contrast, hinge on taking advantage of crisis to attack rule-of-law checks on executive power toward the goal of asserting sweeping systemic change justifying autocratic control. A prime example of this is suspending elections based on a declared state of emergency or refusing to hand over power after an electoral loss based on false claims of fraud.[91] As Figure 1 highlights, on the fast track and slow road, elections are key targets of autocrats—on the left (Hugo Chávez in Venezuela) and right (Victor Orbán in Hungary)—since winning elections is typically the first step for aspiring autocrats to consolidate power.[92]
Along both pathways, backsliding rests on legal changes designed to undermine liberal democratic principles and practices,[93] and thus it should be possible to map points on the curves of democratic decline where it is necessary for lawyers to authorize illiberal change. On the slow road, this may happen for the purpose of partisan advantage,[94] though not part of a systematic plan to dismantle democratic guardrails.[95] Gerrymandering is an example. Those in power, irrespective of party, may draw voting districts to maximize seats and ensure incumbency. However, doing so contributes over the longer term to reducing fair electoral representation and increasing polarization. In another example, Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt point to the Obama administration’s extensive reliance on executive action to work around legislative gridlock as a form of backsliding, authorizing the maximalist use of institutional prerogatives that circumvented norms about how law should be made.[96] Because slow erosion occurs through partisan politics, it is driven forward by political actors with specific ideological goals. Although those actors may not themselves explicitly embrace antidemocratic agendas, opportunistic backsliding may nonetheless help create an environment in which radical ideas grow—planting autocratic seeds whose harvest may be reaped by later leaders. The shift from opportunistic backsliding measures to specific legal changes designed to consolidate autocratic rule requires a leader who aspires to play the autocrat—and lawyers willing to back him up. Considering legal mobilization in relation to partisan opportunism and crisis points of political attack helps conceptualize distinctive roles for lawyers in backsliding democracy.
First, in the context of long-term decline, lawyers serve as active enablers of backsliding by conceptualizing and advocating legal reforms that erode core democratic elements—without the intent of installing a specific autocratic leader in power. In the United States, for example, lawyers have been instrumental in writing voting laws that purport to police fraud but have the effect of suppressing voter turnout among low-income and minority voters,[97] and thus degrade the integrity of electoral processes and undermine faith in the legitimacy of outcomes. Looking more broadly at strategies on each point of the curve of slow democratic decline, lawyers are needed to design, draft, and defend the laws that contribute to backsliding. While some antidemocratic legal actions are easily identifiable, as when government lawyers enter court to defend laws restricting civil society organizations and oppositional political parties,[98] many occur behind the scenes and thus evade public scrutiny, as when lawyers identify constitutional loopholes permitting changes in election law favoring the ruling party, ghostwrite laws to pack the high court without running afoul of formal constitutional constraints, or author legal opinions that provide losing incumbent candidates a roadmap for how to declare a state of emergency that circumvents legal requirements for certifying election results.
Second, at moments of political crisis, when autocrats make decisive moves against democracy to consolidate power in the face of rules to the contrary, they must enlist lawyers as conspirators willing to perform the crucial role of legalizing authoritarian action. Here, lawyers renounce their independence to directly participate in attacking the rule of law to serve the interests of a particular autocratic leader—assisting in fomenting constitutional crisis and invoking emergency power designed to undermine legal barricades against authoritarianism.[99] Lawyer conspirators, as Part III’s analysis of Stop the Steal highlights, must be willing to walk up to and cross ethical and legal lines in the service of power. The remainder of this Article explores lawyers’ roles at the intersection of structure and strategy, considering how professional erosion on the long road of backsliding contributes to an environment in which antidemocratic legal mobilization on the fast track has an especially potent impact.
II. How Professional Erosion Weakens Democracy
This Part introduces a framework for examining the erosion of professional pillars presented in Part I along the slow road of democratic decline. It links professional erosion to three fundamental democratic challenges: inequality, which undercuts the profession’s commitment to fairness; polarization, which undermines professional independence; and disinformation, which subverts professional authority. Drawing upon the U.S. case, this Part theorizes professional erosion as a product and producer of backsliding, shaped by and contributing to long-term trends that weaken democracy by reducing trust in the legal system and commitment to the rule of law.
A. Inequality
Backsliding risk grows in the seedbed of inequality,[100] visible in the twin rise of high-end wealth and low-end precarity,[101] which degrades faith in the fairness of an economy that many come to believe is “rigged.”[102] Economic inequality challenges the profession’s democratic role in promoting fairness by reducing access to lawyers and increasing stratification among lawyers. This creates democratic risk by reducing public trust in the legal system and weakening lawyer commitment to professional norms supporting the rule of law.
Unequal access to lawyers subverts fairness in predictable ways: decreasing the ability of low-income people and members of marginalized groups to enter the legal system with representation while increasing the power of wealthy individuals and corporations to mobilize law to their advantage. Increasing inequality is evident in the well-documented decline of civil legal aid funding in America. Despite persistent unmet legal need,[103] federal support for legal aid fell by 50 percent between 1980 and 2020, partly the result of conservative cutbacks to a program historically aligned with progressive legal activism.[104] This has resulted in a low ratio of legal aid lawyers relative to income-eligible clients,[105] exacerbated by lawyers’ geographic concentration away from the nonurban poor.[106] Although private funding has partially filled in for dwindling federal dollars[107] and pro bono service has grown,[108] empirical studies suggest that private charity privileges cases reflecting donor interest, reinforcing a mismatch between legal need and resources.[109] On the criminal side, the dearth of lawyers for indigent defendants has reached crisis proportions.[110]
Although structural inequality creates barriers to access, lawyers themselves contribute to the problem in ways that can reinforce the public perception that they place their own professional well-being over the public interest. Bar organizations have led repeated attacks on legal technology platforms, like Legal Zoom, designed to provide low-cost guidance on completing and filing legal forms in areas like family law, on the ground that such platforms are engaged in the unauthorized practice of law threatening the livelihood of licensed lawyers.[111] Some legal aid leaders have resisted regulatory innovations designed to liberalize licensing nonlawyers to provide important services for low-income people facing problems that do not require full-scale legal representation. In California, a recent effort by the bar to create a “regulatory sandbox” to relax licensure rules for nonlawyers was killed by a legislative maneuver supported by legal aid leaders, who expressed concerns about quality but also appeared motivated by protecting their turf.[112]
While inequality restricts options for effective representation at the low end of the income spectrum, it also empowers those on the high end to mobilize law in their interests. There are obvious ways that this plays out, such as large corporate clients using lawyers to fend off regulatory oversight and lobby for more favorable legal rules. Less well-documented is how resources may influence enforcement of ethical regulations that injure vulnerable clients the bar is charged to protect. On the extreme end of this problem is the high-profile case of Los Angeles consumer lawyer Tom Girardi, who built one of the nation’s most powerful plaintiff’s firms, Girardi Keese, featured in the movie Erin Brockovich. Contrary to its heroic on-screen depiction, Girardi’s firm operated as a Ponzi scheme by stealing funds from clients (including those in the Brockovich case) over a four-decade period, allowing Girardi to finance a lavish lifestyle, build influence in Democratic politics[113]—and fend off the California State Bar.[114] Despite over two hundred complaints against him for inappropriately handling client funds, Girardi maintained a “pristine” state bar record by plying bar investigators and officials with gifts.[115] It was only after a federal court judge referred Girardi to criminal prosecutors for stealing settlement money from families of the 2018 Lion Air crash, followed by a public records petition by the L.A. Times, that the extent of client complaints against Girardi—and the bar’s complicity in covering them up—became known, forcing the bar to replace top management and institute substantial new controls.[116]
Given such failures, it is not surprising that the public holds lawyers in low regard.[117] Declining public trust in lawyers poses democracy risks when it contributes to doubts about the integrity of legal institutions. Recent scholarship suggests that faith in the legal system decreases in relation to perceptions of lawyer unethicality,[118] a finding that is consistent with the downward trend of public confidence in courts.[119] Controversy over Justice Clarence Thomas’s receipt of expensive gifts and trips from billionaire real estate developer Harlan Crow, who funds conservative organizations with issues in front of the Supreme Court, has contributed to all-time low levels of confidence in the Court, raising concerns about its democratic legitimacy.[120] Taken together, the perception that the “haves come out ahead” based on unequal access to legal resources in the adversarial system,[121] combined with concerns about judicial impartiality at the highest level, may reinforce public belief that the legal system is subject to capture by powerful actors and feed skepticism of professional independence in moments of crisis.
Increasing inequality among lawyers also contributes to backsliding risk in underappreciated ways that warrant further scrutiny. The American legal profession has long been stratified. Lawyers’ economic fortunes have depended on whether they serve clients in the individual or corporate “hemispheres,” with corporate practice generally associated with higher income, prestige, and job security.[122] Over the past half century, economic divisions have grown more extreme. In 1980, most lawyers earned close to the profession’s median income with a small proportion of outliers.[123] Thirty years later, the middle range had narrowed and the percentage of high earners had grown significantly, producing a bimodal income distribution.[124] By 2013, in the private law sector, the average salary spread between lawyers in Big Law and those in small firms was $125,000.[125] Economic inequality is compounded by persistent gender and racial inequality, with women underrepresented in the top levels of law firms and lawyers of color underrepresented in the profession overall.[126] Although lawyers are no longer “walled off” in separate hemispheres, their career trajectories are deeply shaped by whether lawyers work in “elite” or “nonelite” sectors, resulting in career outcomes that “both reflect and reproduce inequalities within society writ large.”[127] This inequality, alongside greater specialization,[128] contributes to the fragmentation of the profession,[129] causing lawyers to identify more strongly with specialized fields and practice communities than the wider bar.[130]
Intraprofessional stratification may influence how some lawyers become connected to radical movements. There is comparative evidence that lawyers on the professional margins, furthest away from the legal mainstream and state power, may be more susceptible to being recruited into radical causes.[131] Nonelite lawyers may be more likely to be sympathetic to extremist views and more open to involvement in controversial political cases as a way to enhance professional status and potentially attract clients.[132] They may be less concerned about the negative economic fallout associated with polarizing legal cases, often a deterrent for lawyers in Big Law, and may seek to use radical cases to bolster political bona fides in pursuit of other career goals like running for public office.[133] In addition, because of their lower status relative to the elite bar—and often their geographic distance from liberal urban centers—lawyers in small-scale private practice, working in politically conservative communities, may identify more strongly with ideological networks than with professional peers. Strong political identification has long been a hallmark of solo and small-firm lawyers on the left affiliated with the National Lawyers Guild.[134] The 2020 election attack analyzed in Part III suggests that political identification also may be important on the conservative side as many lawyers who took on post-election lawsuits in battleground states were recruited from small nonurban firms with strong ties to the conservative legal movement.
B. Polarization
Political polarization shapes the professional environment of lawyers in ways that also raise democracy concerns, pulling lawyers in positions of public trust further to the extremes and thereby compromising their role as independent checks on executive power. Polarization does not guarantee lawyer radicalization will happen but increases risk by contributing to the rise of more extreme us-versus-them thinking in social movements, which shapes the legal networks vetting lawyers for governmental gatekeeping roles, the loyalty demanded of lawyers by leaders once in these roles, and the public reaction to lawyer conduct.
Democracy scholars trace polarization to intertwined policies pursued for partisan advantage—campaign finance deregulation, gerrymandering, and voter suppression—alongside new media techniques for influencing public opinion that invite winner-take-all approaches to politics.[135] These strategies can contribute to “toxic polarization”: ideologically rigid groups with mutually exclusive worldviews whose members vote for politicians promising to deliver instrumental outcomes that benefit in-groups irrespective of social costs.[136] Because in-group members deny the legitimacy of opponents—who are viewed as existential threats to the national interest—the perceived cost of losing power increases, justifying more extreme measures to maintain political control. Such measures are often couched in terms of protecting higher-order democratic values even as they weaken democratic checks and balances. Polarization is a key factor contributing to radicalization, in which political actors reject the legitimacy of counterarguments, vilify opponents, and use extreme language and hardball tactics to win at any cost.[137] Radicalization occurs on both sides of the ideological divide. Extremism on the political right ascribes the unfairness of existing arrangements to larger forces—secularism, immigration, socialism—which populist leaders mobilize to build movements based on social grievances that can obscure the economic consequences of neoliberal policy and, on the fringe, reach for Deep State conspiracy theories to discredit opponents.[138] On the left, extremism manifests as radical calls to abolish institutions like police departments and immigration agencies linked to racist policy alongside weaponization of “cancel culture” to restrict legitimate but unpopular speech in educational institutions and the broader public domain.[139]
As polarization fractures public opinion,[140] it pulls opposing social movements and political parties further apart, which places pressure on affiliated lawyers to display greater loyalty through more extreme position-taking. This pressure on professional independence is particularly acute for lawyers whose work is most closely associated with the “public interest”: lawyers representing social movements outside the state and lawyers on the inside of government representing political leaders. Although the roles of movement and government lawyers are distinct—movement lawyers advance political goals while government lawyers serve the public good—there is evidence from the United States that they are becoming more intertwined in ways that may contribute to the politicization of government service.[141] Specifically, as social movements on the left and right gain greater influence in political governance, they accumulate power to promote recruitment of government lawyers from the ranks of movement lawyers, which may over time blur professional identities and legal tactics, contributing to more sharply partisan legal conflict.[142]
The U.S. public interest law movement began in the 1960s as a project to advance progressive visions of democratic inclusion, building on the pioneering model of the NAACP’s impact litigation campaign to desegregate public schools in Brown v. Board of Education.[143] Liberal public interest lawyers contributed to the Rights Revolution during the Warren Court era, expanding civil rights and due process protections for minority groups and low-income people.[144] But they were also criticized for overreaching, using law to resolve contested policy issues and pursuing their own conception of the public interest rather than serving clients.[145] In response, conservative leaders pledged to meet liberal legal groups like the NAACP and ACLU on their own ground by creating an oppositional infrastructure to mobilize law on behalf of conservative causes.[146] A decade later, rather than “public interest law” being understood in relation to liberal causes like racial and environmental justice,[147] it became fundamentally contested at the center of left-right political struggle—a form of “politics by other means.”[148] This contestation reshaped the organizational terrain of public interest lawyering, giving rise to a multifaceted conservative legal movement, while changing the landscape of law schools, where the Federalist Society was launched to develop conservative legal talent and build networks to strengthen ties among diverse conservative factions.[149]
Within lawyering networks growing out of these legal movements, increasing polarization would be expected to push the views of financial benefactors and political allies toward greater extremes, creating incentives for lawyers to take more radical advocacy positions to maintain funding and policy influence. Polarization would be further expected to challenge professional independence in the public lawyering context by influencing who is chosen to serve in key government legal positions. As more extreme views gain greater support within governing parties, the background experiences and network connections necessary to credentialize lawyers for such positions would have to pass muster with new leaders—placing a greater premium on demonstrated lawyer commitment to political causes and legal positions as proxies for partisan loyalty. On the American political right, these causes have included movements to deregulate election spending, expand gun rights, restrict abortion and LGBTQ+ rights, and limit immigration.[150] By providing support to advance these efforts, the organizational structure for conservative legal activism may serve as an important proving ground for lawyers to work on behalf of elected leaders. Notable conservative movement lawyers were tapped to play prominent legal roles for Trump. For example, Jay Sekulow, former chief counsel of the politically conservative, Christian-based American Center for Law & Justice, was selected to be lead counsel in Trump’s first impeachment trial.[151] In devising legal strategy to prevent certification of the 2020 presidential election, Trump turned to John Eastman, who was former chair of the National Organization for Marriage and board member of the Public Interest Legal Foundation, known for bringing lawsuits to purge immigrants from local voting rolls.[152]
These lawyers were influential members of the conservative legal movement,[153] which provided a pipeline into high-level Trump administration positions through a vetting process run by Trump legal advisor and Federalist Society Executive Vice President Leonard Leo.[154] This pipeline has cultivated mainstream legal conservativism, committed to principles of originalism and independence, and during the Trump era (as Part III details), many lawyers who entered high-level government positions fit this model. However, as mainstream conservative government lawyers refused to back Trump’s efforts around the 2020 election, he turned to outside lawyers, like Eastman, willing to endorse extreme claims and sacrifice gatekeeping roles. This has produced deep splits in the conservative legal movement over the role of the Federalist Society, which is caught in the middle of intense conflict between radical and mainstream lawyers over the future of legal conservativism.[155]
The interplay between politics and practice has also blurred boundaries between the conservative legal movement and private law firms in ways that raise novel independence concerns. While pro bono has often advanced policy commitments of Big Law lawyers on the left, and firms with conservative leadership like Kirkland & Ellis have historically produced legal talent for Republican administrations, there is evidence of closer integration of private practice with government and movement lawyering (particularly as corporate clients navigate increasingly partisan political environments). A vivid example of this is the rise of the Jones Day law firm as outside counsel to, and feeder for, Republican Party leadership.[156] After becoming managing partner in 2003, Steven Brogan recruited Federalist Society lawyers to head an elite “issues-and-appeals” practice unit charged with advancing conservative causes, including stopping early voting in battleground states and abolishing the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.[157] The firm recruited high-profile conservative lawyers from other firms, including Don McGahn, who arrived in 2014 with substantial experience in Washington, D.C., and a book of clients that included the National Rifle Association and the Koch brothers.[158] McGahn spearheaded the firm’s decision to represent what was then seen as the long-shot presidential campaign of Donald Trump in 2016, negotiating a deal with skeptical Federalist Society power brokers to vet Trump’s judicial appointments.[159] After Trump’s election, Jones Day lawyers were brought into the White House Counsel’s office and given high-level appointments in the Department of Justice (DOJ) (partner Noel Francisco became Solicitor General) and other agencies, resulting in “an extraordinary transfer of talent from a single law firm to a new administration.”[160] Critics questioned the independence of these government lawyers not only because of close ties to the conservative legal movement but also because of ongoing litigation by Jones Day colleagues on issues pending in front of government agencies and the Supreme Court.[161]
Precisely because the DOJ occupies a critical democratic position—representing the executive branch while acting as a bulwark against executive overreach—it has long been at the epicenter of legal conflict over executive power.[162] Although the DOJ is a political institution, whose top lawyers are political appointees, it has also prided itself on independence. Comparing challenges to DOJ independence during the Trump presidency with two other seminal government lawyer controversies of the modern era—Watergate and the torture memos—sheds light on how polarization may affect public lawyering over time.
Watergate involved criminal conduct orchestrated by President Richard Nixon’s White House, which plotted an effort to break into the Democratic National Committee headquarters to steal campaign plans of Nixon’s rival in advance of the 1972 presidential election.[163] The scandal implicated nearly thirty lawyers—including Attorney General (AG) John Mitchell, who was notified of the plan; White House Counsel John Dean, who authorized it; and G. Gordon Liddy, who masterminded it. At the core of the scandal was unethical and criminal conduct in the service of election interference: spying on opponents for partisan advantage. It was an election attack but, unlike the Trump 2020 effort, it did not claim to follow the rule of law and the consequences, though grave, were not democratically destabilizing. After the scandal broke, there was bipartisan condemnation of the lawyers’ actions, serious ethical and criminal sanctions,[164] and organizational change at the DOJ.[165] Watergate also produced significant professional reform, leading the American Bar Association (ABA) in 1973 to mandate that law schools “provide and require for all student candidates for a professional degree, instruction in the duties and responsibilities of the legal profession”—making legal ethics the only substantive course required for accreditation. Watergate also sparked a movement to revise the ethical rules, resulting a decade later in the ABA’s adoption of the 1983 Model Rules of Professional Responsibility, which made clear that lawyers are public citizens with special obligations to the justice system.[166]
The second high-profile instance of government lawyer politicization, during the presidency of George W. Bush, involved the production of the 2002 “torture memos” written by lawyers in the Office of Legal Counsel (OLC), the elite DOJ unit charged with advising the executive branch.[167] In that case, the White House and CIA asked the OLC to provide advice on whether proposed interrogation techniques to be used on purported al Qaeda terrorists constituted torture under relevant domestic and international law. On August 1, 2002, the OLC issued two memoranda: the first sent to CIA Acting General Counsel John Rizzo entitled “Interrogation of al Qaeda Operative” and the other sent to White House Counsel Alberto Gonzales entitled “Standards of Conduct for Interrogation.”[168] Although both were signed by OLC head Jay Bybee, they were largely written by Deputy Assistant AG John Yoo, a former Justice Thomas clerk and tenured faculty member at Berkeley Law.[169] In the Rizzo memo, the OLC concluded that ten interrogation techniques, which included “insects placed in a confinement box” and “the waterboard,” did not constitute torture under the U.S. federal torture statute.[170] The legal analysis supporting this conclusion was drawn from the Gonzales memo’s analysis of the federal torture statute,[171] which defined torture as an act “specifically intended to inflict severe physical or mental pain or suffering.”[172] Because the torture statute did not explicitly define “severe pain,” the memo drew upon a different statute defining an emergency medical condition qualifying for free medical care to conclude that torture required the specific intent to inflict severe pain rising to “the level that would ordinarily be associated with a sufficiently serious physical condition or injury such as death, organ failure, or serious impairment of body functions.”[173] While the Gonzales memo reviewed U.S. cases interpreting the Torture Victims Protection Act, concluding that “they are in keeping with the general notion that the term ‘torture’ is reserved for acts of the most extreme nature,”[174] it omitted analysis of contrary cases suggesting that waterboarding was torture.[175] In concluding that the interrogation procedures proposed by Rizzo were legal, that memo emphasized that “this is our best reading of the law.”[176]
In the uproar that followed the memos’ disclosure,[177] some former OLC lawyers defended the opinions as “standard lawyerly fare,” providing the White House with the strongest legal justification of its desired policy in a national security context in which executive authority was at its zenith.[178] In its 2009 report on the torture memos, the DOJ’s Office of Professional Responsibility (OPR)—created after Watergate to enforce ethical standards—concluded that Yoo had “committed intentional professional misconduct when he violated his duty to exercise independent legal judgment” by knowingly providing “incomplete and one-sided advice.”[179] Specifically, OPR found evidence that Yoo and others were “aware of the result desired” by the CIA “and drafted memoranda to support that result, at the expense of their duty of thoroughness, objectivity, and candor,” and also disregarded the fact that the Rizzo memo sought to “provide immunity to CIA officers engaged in acts that might be construed as torture.”[180] The OPR further concluded that Yoo exaggerated the importance of cases supporting his argument and relegated cases “in which far less serious conduct was found to constitute torture” to the appendix where “their significance was not fully discussed.”[181]
Although the Bush administration launched the investigation, the DOJ’s final report was released during the Obama administration, which overruled the OPR opinion, finding that Yoo exercised “poor judgment” but declining to refer him for bar discipline.[182] Critics condemned the memos as giving the CIA legal cover to violate the law in service of an illegal covert action targeting Arab and Muslim men,[183] while deliberately widening the scope of executive power as part of a larger effort to reduce legislative and judicial constraint.[184] Because the memos purported to operate within the traditional frame of legal analysis to justify illegal client conduct, they were more damaging to DOJ independence than Watergate, in which no one claimed that the actions of lawyers were legal. Insofar as the memos skewed legal advice for political purposes, infringing individual freedoms in the name of national security, they were inconsistent with the DOJ’s role as an independent gatekeeper committed to checking executive overreach—a step down the slow road of professional erosion. However, the memos involved lawyers straining law to advance policy—not to enable a specific president to illegitimately keep power—and thus did not implicate DOJ in a direct autocratic attack.
In this regard, the Trump DOJ moved into more dangerous territory, pushed by a president whose mandate derived from radical elements of the conservative movement and who bridled against legal checks on executive power.[185] AG William Barr’s conduct around the release of Special Counsel Robert Mueller’s 2019 report—which concluded that Russia interfered with the 2016 election, there were numerous links to the Trump campaign, and there was evidence of obstruction[186]—was an early illustration of the challenges to prosecutorial independence posed by Trump. On April 18, 2019, Barr called a press conference, in which he stated that the Mueller report “did not establish that members of the Trump [c]ampaign conspired or coordinated with the Russian government” and that he had “concluded that the evidence . . . is not sufficient to establish that . . . President [Trump] committed an obstruction-of-justice offense.”[187] This statement contradicted the report’s assertion that “if we had confidence after a thorough investigation of the facts that the President clearly did not commit obstruction of justice, we would so state” and that it was not recommending prosecution due to DOJ policy against indicting a sitting president—not based on an assessment of the merits.[188] The media picked up Barr’s spin on the Mueller report, reinforcing already highly divided public opinion on whether Trump broke the law.
In 2020, a Bush-appointed federal judge, Reggie Walton, overseeing a Freedom of Information Act lawsuit to access the full Mueller report, took the extraordinary step of publicly rebuking Barr for misleading the public and the court about its contents, claiming that “inconsistencies” between the actual report and Barr’s public description of it reflected a “lack of candor.”[189] Judge Walton pointed out that Mueller himself objected to Barr’s characterization of his report in a letter to Congress, stating that Barr “did not fully capture the context, nature, and substance of th[e] [Special Counsel’s] Office’s work and conclusions.”[190] Judge Walton questioned “whether AG Barr made a calculated attempt to influence public discourse about the Mueller report in favor of President Trump despite certain findings in the redacted version . . . to the contrary.”[191] Following Barr’s remarks about the Mueller report, the New York City Bar Association issued a statement calling for Barr to recuse himself from the investigation into whether Trump improperly pressured Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy to investigate Hunter Biden.[192] The opinion stressed concerns that Barr appeared to discredit an investigation into what was, at that point, the most serious allegation of election interference by an American president—effectively acting as the president’s personal lawyer defending against potential criminal prosecution rather than independently enforcing U.S. law.[193]
That problem would reach new extremes during Trump’s attack on the 2020 presidential election, detailed in Part III, in which he recruited high-level DOJ lawyers to officially endorse unfounded allegations of voting fraud in an effort to toss out certified electors from key battleground states on January 6.[194] This effort to coopt the DOJ combined central elements of the earlier controversies in an effort to subvert departmental independence in service of an autocratic agenda: packaging an illegal attack on the presidential election (like Watergate) but now dressed up in the official language of law (like the torture memos). As Part III reveals, this effort failed precisely because other lawyers in the DOJ and White House performed their independent roles—reinforcing the point that polarization increases risk but does not guarantee outcomes.
As this review suggests, public lawyers eschewing professional independence is by no means a new phenomenon. However, in the pre-Trump controversies, while lawyers engaged in indefensible conduct, they did not use legal means to subvert core democratic institutions. In Watergate, lawyers broke the law believing they could get away with their actions. This was a grievous assault on election integrity—but one that never purported to operate within the bounds of legality. In the torture memo case, by contrast, the lawyers violated the spirit of the law while claiming to follow its letter; however, their actions were not designed to entrench the president’s political power. The crucial historical difference in the Trump context was that the most extreme legal conduct went beyond violating the rules of the game (illegal spying or torture) to asserting that the president was above the rules altogether.
C. Disinformation
In backsliding democracies, the spread of disinformation is a critical tool used to inflame public opinion against opponents and promote public distrust of government. Disinformation is part of what Nancy Rosenblum and Russell Muirhead call the “new conspiracism”—the spread of false facts by carefully embedding enough real facts to make them “true enough”—promoted by political actors to build support among disaffected voters who desire an outsider willing to fight the status quo.[195] Technology expands the conspiracy repertoire by allowing proponents to use decentralized media platforms to delegitimize inconvenient facts and spread “fake news.”[196] Technological tools can be used to directly target disinformation to receptive audiences, undermine civil discourse by shrinking common ground, and reduce social trust.[197] In extreme cases, authoritarian leaders spread lies to smear opponents, accusing them of “corruption” or “sedition” as bases for political prosecutions that squelch dissent. One of Trump’s favorite slogans in his 2016 race against Hillary Clinton—“Lock her up!”—mobilized disinformation (that Clinton hid classified information on a private email server while secretary of state) to legitimize the idea of criminal culpability.[198] Disinformation challenges the rule of law by supplying false grounds to concoct legal violations against political opponents, as in the Clinton example, or creating false grounds to help political leaders (and their allies) to avoid liability, as in the case of Trump.[199]
New conspiracism is part of the broader trend of “truth decay,” associated with increasing disagreement about facts, blurring the line between opinion and fact, and declining trust in formerly respected sources of fact.[200] Truth decay has reshaped American politics by enabling leaders to more easily advance facially plausible but unsubstantiated claims, like pervasive voting fraud, to garner support for regressive policies, like voter suppression. It has also lowered the political costs of lying. While the Trump era brought a sharp decline in the percentage of Americans who believe presidents tell the truth[201]—a result of the sheer volume of Trump’s mendacity[202]—Trump’s own dishonesty did not significantly affect his popularity among Republicans.[203] This decoupling of dishonesty from its consequences inspires further dishonesty in a vicious cycle. As a point of contrast, when President Bill Clinton, a lawyer, publicly denied his affair with intern Monica Lewinsky by saying “[i]t depends on what the meaning of the word ‘is’ is,” his technical parsing was condemned as quintessential lawyer-speak and followed by a highly publicized mea culpa.[204]
As the Clinton example underscores, legal culture contributes to truth decay. American lawyers have always had an uneasy relationship to truth, which is too often a casualty of lawyers’ skill in mobilizing facts toward a version of reality that advances client interests.[205] This skill is taught in law school as a foundational component of what it means to “think like a lawyer.”[206] Law schools have promoted moral neutrality as a cornerstone professional value—training students to make the most aggressive arguments for clients irrespective of their social value. Empirical research suggests that law students’ commitment to higher-order public values diminishes as a result of legal training that encourages them to stretch facts to their limits in order to prepare for careers serving high-paying clients that demand total loyalty.[207] Although this professional ethos does not embrace disinformation, it does ask students to look at facts in a skeptical light—a perspective that may become increasingly dangerous in a context of disintegrating factual consensus. The democratic danger is that in a culture of truth decay, it becomes easier for lawyers trained to slant facts to reach for information of dubious credibility to advance client interests, justifying their actions in the professional language of zealous advocacy. As an illustration, Eastman has criticized the Georgia election interference case against him and other Trump lawyers for seeking to criminalize “zealous advocacy on behalf of their clients.”[208]
While contesting the legal interpretation of facts is a core element of effective advocacy—and routine legal cases regularly turn on profound disagreement over which version of the facts should prevail—reliance on false facts, especially in political cases, poses significant threats to the rule of law. Disinformation may be used to delegitimize opponents’ positions, which subverts mutual tolerance required for compromise and may cause parties on the losing side of a case to reject its legitimacy. Disinformation directly undermines legal authority when it is used by lawyers to defend against client culpability—and their own misconduct. Even before disinformation was deployed in the Stop the Steal campaign, Trump lawyers famously promoted public distrust of facts. In a series of Orwellian moments designed to protect Trump from legal scrutiny in relation to Russian election interference, Giuliani defended the president by asserting that “truth isn’t truth” and suggesting that facts were in “eye of the beholder,” while Trump’s top advisor, lawyer Kellyanne Conway, publicly endorsed the use of “alternative facts.”[209] These arguments laid the groundwork for Trump’s central defense to election interference charges—that he reasonably believed in conspiracy claims of voter fraud thus negating criminal intent. As Part IV explores, this same defense has been deployed by Eastman and other Trump lawyers, challenging the bar’s authority to discipline them for false statements on the grounds that voter fraud conspiracies swirling at the time rendered them “true enough.”
This Part has outlined vectors of professional erosion and suggested how each is shaped by, and contributes to, democratic backsliding. Figure 2 provides an overview. It highlights how trends associated with democratic backsliding—inequality, polarization, and disinformation—can challenge the legal profession’s central democratic functions in ways that produce consequences contributing to further backsliding. Specifically, this Part has outlined how economic inequality can undermine legal fairness and promote public distrust in the integrity of the legal system, how polarization can threaten professional independence by increasing the risk of lawyer radicalization, and how disinformation can delegitimize the authority of law by divorcing it from agreed-upon facts.
While this Part has focused on long-term structural change by spotlighting legal institutions where erosion occurs—legal aid and public interest law, DOJ, and law school—it also helps to identify potential targets of autocratic strategy. To insulate autocratic leaders from legal oversight, it would make sense for them to weaken the support structure of rights mobilization in the public and nongovernmental legal sectors, install loyalists in key public lawyering positions to break down legal checks and balances, and reshape legal education as a site for incubating extreme legal views. Aspects of this type of institutional targeting have been part of the autocratic playbook in other countries.[210] Allies of Trump planning for a potential next term are reported to be following this lead by recruiting lawyers committed to a more radical “America First” agenda to occupy key appointed roles[211]—underscoring that ethical resistance at one point on the slow road of erosion may provide a roadmap for how to circumvent it the next time around.
The analysis presented in this Part therefore ultimately connects structural forces of democratic decline to autocratic legal strategy by suggesting how slow professional erosion can create conditions of possibility in which fast-track legal attacks occur. Backsliding is more likely to turn from risk to reality when there are more members of the public willing to believe that the legal system is grossly unfair and subject to capture by elites, more public lawyers willing to view their professional role in partisan terms, and more tools to circulate conspiracy theories and pollute public discourse. It is in this dangerous environment that political leaders, and the lawyers who serve them, may mobilize lack of faith in the legal system to target elections as the gateway to autocratic power.
III. How Law Is Mobilized Against the Rule of Law
Audacious attacks on the rule of law can put democracy on the fast track to collapse. This happens when autocrats exploit—or invent—moments of crisis to justify seizing extraordinary power that eviscerates constitutional limits and civil society oversight. Like slow erosion, this pathway to autocracy relies on law: appearing to follow rules to invoke a state of emergency. In these moments of crisis, lawyers are essential for autocratic success, recruited to legitimize extraordinary legal measures by developing theories and strategies to mobilize law against the rule of law. Part III asks what can be learned from such mobilization to deepen understanding of autocratic legal methods and goals. It does so through analysis of the Stop the Steal campaign, which challenged the results of the 2020 presidential election on behalf of Trump, who lost six critical battleground states—Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin—costing him victory in the decisive Electoral College system.[212]
The aim of this Part is both descriptive and conceptual. By documenting legal strategy, it seeks to shed light on how law, designed to have a stabilizing effect on democracy, is mobilized in the service of destabilization. Conceptually, the case study is used to illuminate a form of antidemocratic legal mobilization: legal strategies and arguments deployed to attack the legitimacy of central institutions and practices of liberal democracy.[213] It does so by tracing how a team of lawyers, whose composition changed over time, contributed to a synchronized legal and media campaign, beginning before the election but increasing in intensity after, to cast doubt on the outcome of the election. The case study conceptualizes this mobilization in terms of six steps creating a cycle of distrust:[214] (1) theorizing legitimate legal space for election fraud claims and filing pre-election suits to foster doubt in election integrity, (2) mobilizing the conservative bar and recruiting legal influencers to amplify fraud claims in the lead-up to the election, (3) flooding courts with cases that mixed legitimate and false claims (some relying on conspiracy theories) to buy time and confuse the public, (4) disseminating false fraud claims through social media to inflame opinion, (5) designing a legal roadmap based on false claims to thwart Electoral College certification, and (6) attempting to coopt government lawyers to spark a crisis justifying extraordinary measures.[215]
While legal mobilization around the election was initiated by lawyers seeking to protect Trump’s legal rights and win on the merits, as it evolved in the chaotic post-election atmosphere, some lawyers closest to Trump participated in a plan that relied on disinformation to mislead the public into believing that the system was broken and could only be fixed by keeping Trump in office—provoking a constitutional crisis to prevent the peaceful transition of power. In documenting this shift, the case study suggests links between the structural preconditions of backsliding outlined in Part II and direct democratic attacks. Specifically, while the switch from slow decline to fast attack requires an aspiring autocrat willing to seize the moment, it also builds upon professional erosion: weaponizing truth decay to deepen distrust of the legal system among a polarized electorate, enlisting lawyers from the radical wing of the conservative legal movement willing to legitimize and amplify false election claims, recruiting small-firm lawyers from the professional margins to bring cases based on those claims, and mobilizing government lawyers willing to sacrifice their independent role to support an attack on the rule of law.
A. Theorize Legal Space for Fraud Claims
The first stage of Stop the Steal can be traced to before the election when lawyers laid the groundwork for election fraud claims in battleground states by identifying and theorizing legitimate legal grounds for challenges and amplifying those grounds through media to sow public doubt about election integrity. This stage did not dictate the ultimate result—Trump’s effort to cling to power after exhausting all legitimate election challenges—but influenced its path. The 2020 election challenge built on a long-term Republican project, launched after the contested 2000 Bush-Gore election, to legitimize the notion of widespread voter fraud to justify a range of state voting laws that suppressed Democratic voter turnout.[216] These efforts included a Bush DOJ initiative to prosecute voter fraud, which failed to find any serious problems.[217]
Pre-election legal challenges in 2020 tapped into this pre-existing voting fraud narrative—advanced by conservative movement lawyers well-versed in election law strategy. While many of these lawyers sought in good faith to protect Trump’s legal rights, the challenges they mounted laid a foundation for later litigation that cultivated conspiracy claims of election fraud from kernels of truthful concerns about election security. The facially legitimate concerns centered on mail-in voting, which Republicans consistently linked to fraud without evidence.[218] In the year leading up to the 2020 presidential election, particularly after COVID widened opportunities for mail-in voting, lawyers aligned with the Trump campaign and Republican Party raised legal questions about mail-in voting in key battleground states, in some cases filing lawsuits challenging state and local practices.[219] These cases involved issues that would be critical to post-election litigation: voter roll accuracy, fraudulent ballots, and accessibility of Republican poll watchers.
Behind this effort was a group of prominent conservative lawyers who coordinated pre-election legal challenges to voting systems in battleground states and assembled a national lawyer network to be mobilized afterwards in the event Trump lost. The point person was Leonard Leo, legal advisor to Trump.[220] Leo left his position as executive vice president of the Federalist Society in early 2020 (staying on as board co-chair) to coordinate election legal strategy. Leo helped to establish The 85 Fund, a nonprofit group that hosted the newly formed Honest Elections Project (HEP), which used litigation, policy advocacy, and media to promote “election integrity.”[221] HEP, led by former Heritage Foundation voter fraud staffer Jason Snead, worked through affiliated lawyers to identify and enforce election requirements in swing states. Two lawyers leading those challenges were William Consovoy, a former Justice Thomas clerk and head of a D.C. boutique firm representing the Republican National Committee (RNC) and the Trump campaign, and Jason Torchinsky, partner at a small Virginia firm who was well known for his book of prominent conservative clients.[222] As an example of their strategy, in February 2020, Consovoy and Torchinsky threatened to sue Michigan over the accuracy of its voter rolls in Democratic-leaning Michigan counties, contesting the “abnormally high” number of voters on the rolls.[223]
In the months before the election, lawyers working with HEP, the RNC (which set aside $20 million for election litigation),[224] and the Trump campaign ramped up legal challenges, while the campaign targeted advertising in battleground states.[225] Consovoy and Torchinsky were joined by election law experts, including Ronald Hicks, Jr., co-chair of the election law group at Porter Wright Morris & Arthur LLP (an Ohio firm with an office in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where Hicks was based). Trump campaign senior legal counsel Justin Clark headed the legal team. Clark went on leave as a partner at Milwaukee-based Michael Best & Friedrich to start the Elections LLC law firm to represent the Trump campaign; he was joined by fellow partner (and former White House Counsel lawyer) Stefan Passantino[226] and Matthew Morgan from Barnes & Thornburg in Indianapolis, Indiana.[227]
As the pandemic caused shutdowns in spring 2020, states widened access to mail-in voting, prompting challenges from this team of lawyers.[228] Pennsylvania, which Trump narrowly won in 2016 and was considered key to his chances in 2020,[229] emerged as a flashpoint. In June, Hicks and colleagues teamed up with Morgan and Clark to file a federal suit challenging guidance issued by the Pennsylvania secretary of state to clarify COVID mail-in procedures under the state’s recently enacted voting law.[230] The suit challenged provisions of the guidance facilitating no-excuse mail-in voting, permitting drop boxes, and restricting poll watchers, arguing that those provisions permitted variation by precinct that diluted Republican votes.[231] The federal district court abstained to permit the state supreme court to decide the issues,[232] which it did in September, keeping in place the guidance and extending the time for receiving mail-in ballots until after the election owing to postal service delays.[233] In response, Torchinsky filed petitions for an emergency stay and expedited review to the U.S. Supreme Court,[234] which were denied.[235]
This type of skirmish played out in other pre-election suits in battleground states.[236] In August, Consovoy was part of a team suing to stop Nevada’s plan to send ballots to all registered voters,[237] while Ian Northon from Rhoades McKee (a Grand Rapids-based firm specializing in business, family, and personal injury law) and Edward Greim from the Thomas More Society (a Catholic public interest law organization known for opposing abortion) unsuccessfully sued to prevent Michigan from allowing voters to request ballots online.[238] During this time, Trump reportedly considered an executive order banning mail-in voting entirely but ditched the plan when government lawyers determined it exceeded his authority.[239] Opting to continue the state-by-state approach, in October, Nevada lawyers representing the Trump campaign filed suits to prohibit mail-in ballot counting without Republican monitoring[240] and to gain access to the identities of local election board members to ensure nonpartisan review.[241] A key argument in many of these suits was the independent state legislature (ISL) theory, which asserted that the Federal Constitution conferred power solely upon state legislatures to set voting rules, denying any role for local election boards, secretaries of state, or state courts.[242] A leading proponent of ISL, HEP filed an amicus brief on that ground in the Pennsylvania suit challenging the state supreme court’s decision to grant a time extension for mail-in ballots.[243] ISL theory was the basis of other pre-election cases.[244] Although ISL asserted an aggressive interpretation of the Constitution, it was one that had not yet been resolved by the Supreme Court,[245] where Trump predicted the election would “end up.”[246]
While most pre-election cases failed to win the relief sought,[247] they succeeded in honing arguments against election security that paved the way for later legal challenges[248] while helping Trump frame a public narrative of distrust. In the spring of 2020, the Trump team initiated a media campaign attacking mail-in voting on the same grounds raised in the pre-election lawsuits. In April, Trump tweeted: “Mail ballots are a very dangerous thing for this country, because they’re cheaters. They go and collect them. They’re fraudulent in many cases.”[249] As the election approached, these attacks escalated. In August, Trump posted that there was “no way you can go through a mail-in vote without massive cheating” and said the only way he could lose was if there was “a rigged election.”[250] The next month, Trump refused to agree that he would respect the results of the election if he lost, stating that “the ballots are a disaster” and questioning whether the election could be “honest” given “this whole situation of unsolicited ballots.”[251] Trump’s bottom-line strategy was straightforward: repeat the election fraud message enough times that people would come to believe it.
B. Mobilize Lawyer Networks and Recruit Legal Influencers
Media efforts fed into the second stage of the pre-election strategy: to mobilize a larger coalition of the conservative bar, under the banner of “Lawyers for Trump,” prepared to challenge the results of the election, while recruiting high-profile legal influencers willing to make the public case against election integrity. Lawyers for Trump was officially launched in July 2020 by Leo and Clark, who stated the group was “committed to rallying support to help make another four years of President Trump’s leadership a reality.”[252] Lawyers for Trump was led by four co-chairs—Texas AG Ken Paxton, former White House Counsel lawyer Passantino, Arkansas AG Leslie Rutledge, and Harmeet Dhillon of the San Francisco-based Dhillon Law Group—joined by eight other state attorneys general, alongside key members Consovoy, Giuliani, and Leo.[253] As the election approached, a critical function of the group, coordinated with the Trump campaign and RNC, was recruiting a cadre of lawyers licensed in battleground states willing to file post-election legal challenges.[254] This effort was led by lawyers from three anchor firms: Consovoy McCarthy, Jones Day (to which Trump’s first White House Counsel, Don McGahn, had returned), and King & Spaulding (the former firm of FBI Director Christopher Wray).[255] Lawyers for Trump researched election law in battleground states, building on claims made in the pre-election lawsuits, and drafted ready-made legal forms to be filed.[256] Stopping fraud was the group’s animating principle, as illustrated by the Lawyers for Trump recruitment poster (Figure 3) showing Trump depicted as Uncle Sam stating, “I want you to join Lawyers for Trump. Help prevent voter fraud on election day.”[257]
This anti-fraud strategy was amplified by legal influencers: lawyers with credibility among conservatives willing to enter the public sphere to disseminate information about lawsuits and raise concerns about voting security. Rudy Giuliani was the most famous. A respected former U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York, dubbed “America’s Mayor” for his leadership after 9/11, Giuliani perplexed many by becoming the President’s personal lawyer.[258] This role involved representing Trump in questionable matters, starting with Trump’s effort to negotiate a deal with the Ukrainian president to launch an investigation into Hunter Biden in exchange for military funding, which resulted in Trump’s first impeachment.[259] Giuliani made frequent media appearances defending the Ukraine deal and publicly weighed in on other Trump legal woes, for example, taking to the airwaves to stress that Trump used personal funds (rather than corporate funds from the Trump Organization, which issued the checks) to reimburse Michael Cohen’s 2016 payoff to adult actress Stormy Daniels to keep her silent about her alleged affair with Trump.[260]
In the lead-up to the election, Giuliani was a frequent media presence, appearing on right-wing outlets like Newsmax and his own America’s Mayor Live podcast, while coordinating with former White House advisor Steve Bannon to promote the unproven story that information retrieved from Hunter Biden’s laptop demonstrated that then-Vice President Joe Biden benefited from his son’s corrupt dealings in Ukraine and China.[261] As reports circulated that Giuliani would head Trump’s election law team, he also appeared on Fox’s Lou Dobbs Tonight, where he stated that the Democratic Party was “basically a criminal organization, from Obama, to Hillary, to Biden. So, of course, they’re going to cheat.”[262] Another lawyer on the Trump team was Jenna Ellis, who had been dismissed as a prosecutor in rural Colorado before entering private practice and self-publishing a book on interpreting the Constitution according to biblical principles.[263] After becoming director of the evangelical Dobson Policy Institute, she was a frequent public presence defending Trump, who asked her to become a campaign advisor in 2019.[264] Ellis’s role in the pre-election phase centered on media engagement. In this role, she drafted public statements such as one challenging Nevada’s plan to send mail-in ballots to all registered voters, which she called “unconstitutional legislation [that] implements the exact universal vote-by-mail system President Trump has been warning against for months.”[265] These legal influencers operated autonomously from the Clark-led campaign lawyers and did not always see eye to eye with them on strategy.
C. Weaponize Fraud Claims in Court
Having assembled a team of lawyers and planted seeds of distrust, the next stage of the campaign involved weaponizing that distrust through post-election litigation—once it became clear that the election was too close to call and would hinge on the outcome of ongoing absentee and mail-in ballot counting in battleground states.[266] In the wake of the election, there were fifty-eight post-election lawsuits filed in Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, Nevada, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin seeking relief ranging from disqualifying specified ballots to decertifying the election results.[267] This litigation occurred in a compressed time frame—from the November 3 election date through the January 6 date for Congress to certify Electoral College votes—and involved three waves of lawsuits handled by different lawyers. Overall, the cases focused on consistent themes: mail-in votes were defective or fraudulent, voter eligibility requirements were not enforced, Republican poll watchers were excluded, unmonitored drop boxes and canvassing centers were rife with fraud, voting machines were compromised, and outside private funding improperly influenced voters. Although some individual cases immediately after the election raised legitimate claims of improper voting rules and ballot processing, lawsuits grew increasingly implausible. Taken as a whole, they painted a picture of a shadowy conspiracy to steal the election funded by powerful elites and implemented through illicit counting of fake votes by workers at secretive polling centers or hacked computer systems.
The first wave of lawsuits commenced on Election Day, building on claims crafted in the pre-election phase. Some, but not all, of these cases were filed on behalf of the Trump campaign, though they all raised objections to state vote counting that, if successful, would have benefitted Trump. Representing the campaign in Pennsylvania, Porter Wright’s Hicks teamed with Philadelphia-based Linda Kerns, a solo civil litigator who had worked with Hicks on a pre-election challenge to Pennsylvania’s voting laws,[268] and other small-firm lawyers to bring a flurry of cases soon after the election. These suits challenged the exclusion of Republican poll watchers,[269] the extension of time for absentee and mail-in voters to provide valid identification,[270] and the acceptance of absentee and mail-in ballots with various claimed defects.[271] Similarly, in Michigan, lawyers from Rhoades McKee and the Thomas More Society (which had sued to stop Michigan from allowing voters to apply for absentee ballots online[272]) filed a post-election suit challenging vote “curing” (the practice of permitting voters to rectify minor defects in ballots) without Republican poll watchers,[273] while Mark (Thor) Hearne II, founder of True North Law in St. Louis, Missouri (and licensed in Michigan), sued on behalf of the campaign and a poll worker who claimed to have been excluded from the absentee voter ballot review.[274] Similar suits were filed in other battleground states challenging technical rules for poll watching and ballot counting.[275]
While the focus of first-wave suits was on compliance with state voting law, some raised constitutional violations with an eye toward Supreme Court review. For example, in Trump v. Boockvar, Hicks filed federal suit on behalf of the campaign challenging the Pennsylvania results on constitutional grounds. The complaint alleged that variation in vote counting procedures by jurisdiction advantaged mail-in voters, creating a “two-tiered” system that violated the rights of Republican voters who disproportionately voted in person, and that decisions to liberalize mail-in voting due to COVID usurped state legislative power under ISL theory.[276] Similarly, in Barnette v. Lawrence, Andrew Teitelman, a solo lawyer from Huntingdon Valley representing congressional candidates, argued that variation in pre-canvassing procedures by Pennsylvania county officials violated the Equal Protection Clause by allowing some voters to cure defects and not others.[277] These cases asserted aggressive, though not frivolous, interpretations of the Constitution based on the Bush v. Gore precedent, which held that the procedures for counting ballots must ensure that all votes are treated equally.[278]
Other cases, in contrast, made more extreme claims that augured things to come. Lawyers in Arizona and Nevada, in cases representing individual voters and the Trump campaign, challenged election results based on purported problems with voting machines.[279] James Bopp, Jr. (appearing pro hac vice) led a team of local lawyers in Georgia, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin who filed suits on behalf of voters claiming equal protection violations and seeking to set aside the presidential election results based on officially sanctioned voter fraud.[280] Bopp, Jr. was a conservative movement lawyer with a solo practice in Terre Haute, Indiana—known as the legal mastermind of the strategy to overturn Roe v. Wade and gut campaign finance laws—who appeared on behalf of True the Vote, a Texas organization leading the voter fraud movement.[281] In another Michigan case, Costantino v. Detroit, lawyers David Kallman and Erin Mersino from the Great Lakes Justice Center—a conservative legal nonprofit based in Lansing, Michigan—argued that poll workers in Detroit’s TCF Center were instructed not to verify signatures on absentee ballots and coached voters to vote for Biden.[282]
One Pennsylvania case upended normal procedures by jumping between state and federal courts when it seemed that one was likely to issue an adverse ruling.[283] Other cases involved high-profile instances of sketchy lawyering. In Michigan, True North Law lawyer Hearne filed suit supported by a single affidavit by someone claiming to have received a note from an election inspector who asserted that mail-in ballots had been backdated, which the court rejected as inadmissible hearsay.[284] In Pennsylvania, Hicks and Philadelphia lawyer Jerome Marcus claimed that the County Board of Elections was refusing to allow any representatives of the Republican Party to observe; however, when pressed during oral argument, Marcus admitted that the party had “a nonzero number of people in the room.”[285] Despite this, the first wave of suits did yield a few Trump victories,[286] though none of the cases challenging vote counts involved enough ballots to affect the outcome.[287]
Most of the lawyers in first-wave cases came from solo practice and small firms, many from small towns, and some with little or no election law experience. For example, David O’Mara, who represented a voter and state congressional candidates in the Nevada suit, Stokke v. Cegavske, claimed expertise in appeals, bankruptcy, family law, and business law.[288] Some lawyers had pre-existing ties to the conservative legal movement. Hearne, who was lead counsel in two Michigan challenges, was Bush’s 2004 campaign counsel.[289] He was also general counsel to the American Center for Voting Rights, established during the Bush administration to legitimize the idea of large-scale voting fraud as a basis for passing voter identification laws that depressed turnout by low-income, disproportionately Democratic, voters.[290] Marcus, who sued Pennsylvania over poll watcher rules,[291] was involved in the legal strategy around the Paula Jones sexual harassment lawsuit that culminated in Bill Clinton’s impeachment.[292] Some of the cases that most aggressively pushed fraud claims were brought by lawyers from conservative nonprofit groups, like the Thomas More Society and Great Lakes Justice Center. In Arizona, Sue Becker from the Indiana-based Public Interest Legal Foundation, a nonprofit promoting “election integrity,”[293] appeared pro hac vice as co-counsel in two cases (both titled Aguilera v. Fontes), the first claiming that Arizona voters were made to use Sharpies unreadable by voting machines[294] and the second claiming voting machines failed to properly record ballots.[295] Another Indiana lawyer, James Bopp, Jr. of True the Vote, was on the briefs in the Michigan case, Bally v. Whitmer;[296] the Pennsylvania case, Pirkle v. Wolf;[297] the Wisconsin case, Langenhorst v. Pecore;[298] and the Georgia case, Brooks v. Mahoney,[299] all of which alleged officially sanctioned voting fraud and were voluntarily dismissed. The first-wave cases also involved two established firms: Porter Wright and Snell & Wilmer, the latter a large national firm with offices across the country, including Phoenix. Snell & Wilmer lawyers were co-counsel in the Arizona case, Trump v. Hobbs, which alleged that officials disqualified lawful Sharpie-filled ballots.[300]
By mid-November, fifteen of the twenty-five cases filed in the first wave had been resolved, all but two against election challengers.[301] Trump campaign staffers advised him on November 7 that he needed to win litigation or recounts in Arizona, Georgia, and Wisconsin to win the election.[302] A physical hand recount of 2 percent of ballots in Maricopa County, Arizona (as required by state law) was completed on November 9, leading The New York Times to call Arizona for Biden on November 12.[303] In the face of mounting losses, and without evidence of voting fraud materializing, the established firms withdrew from campaign representation.[304] On November 12, as Porter Wright withdrew from the Boockvar case in Pennsylvania after the state moved to dismiss,[305] Trump’s campaign lawyers sought to persuade him to give up the legal effort.[306] At this time, Giuliani pitched the idea that Dominion voting machines, being used in Georgia and some other states, were converting Trump votes to Biden votes in massive numbers—a theory circulating on far-right media.[307]
Thus began the second wave of post-election litigation, during which lawyers scrambled to bring new suits while sustaining those already filed. Starting in this wave, Trump’s campaign lawyers aligned with Elections LLC were sidelined in favor of more radical lawyers, like Giuliani, while new small-firm lawyers emerged to file suits in battleground states. Second-wave cases shifted from the initial strategy of challenging individual ballots to wholesale attacks asking for election results to be set aside.[308] Nevada, which was called for Biden on November 7 but where only thirty thousand votes separated Biden from Trump,[309] was a focus of voting machine allegations. In that state, lawyers filed suits on behalf of individuals alleging problems with Agilis machines used in Clark County (home to Democratic stronghold Las Vegas). Four of these were brought by Craig Mueller—a former criminal prosecutor with his own personal injury firm in Las Vegas[310]—on behalf of individuals in their capacity as voters and state officeholders (and candidates) seeking a new election.[311] In Law v. Whitmer, Las Vegas civil litigator Shana Weir brought suit on behalf of Trump voters and elector candidates asking for 130,000 mail-in ballots to be invalidated due to alleged improper verification by the Agilis machines and for another 3,188 ballots to be rejected due to improper human inspection.[312] Of eleven cases filed between November 13 and November 21, five were dismissed at the trial court level by Thanksgiving;[313] in the end, all but one (a Pennsylvania case involving 270 votes[314]) were ultimately decided against the plaintiffs.
The second wave of cases involved familiar lawyers while introducing new ones.[315] In the familiar category, Northon from Rhoades McKee and Mersino from the Great Lakes Justice Center (appearing as special counsel for the Thomas More Society) teamed up again in Michigan (with Robert Muise of the American Freedom Law Center) seeking to enjoin results on the grounds that state officials “flooded the electoral process” with absentee ballots and counted illegal ballots at Detroit’s TCF Center.[316] On November 20, before the Wisconsin recount was complete, Minneapolis lawyer Erick Kaardal, special counsel for the Thomas More Society’s Amistad Project (created specifically to contest the election), filed an emergency petition to the Wisconsin Supreme Court to enjoin election certification on the ground that the Mark Zuckerberg-funded Center for Technology and Civic Life gifted $6,000,000 to facilitate absentee voting in Democratic-friendly cities like Madison, resulting in the counting of illegal votes in numbers that exceeded the election margin for Biden.[317] These cases suggested that encouraging absentee and mail-in voting must have enabled fraud.
One of the new faces was L. Lin Wood, a Georgia personal injury lawyer who rose to fame bringing defamation suits for accused 1996 Atlanta Olympics bomber Richard Jewell.[318] Wood served as plaintiff in an ISL suit challenging the Georgia secretary of state’s handling of absentee ballots with nonmatching signatures, which he argued was dictated by a settlement agreement with “Democratic Party Agencies” in violation of the “Electors & Election Clauses” and “Equal Protection Clause” of the Constitution, thereby prohibiting election certification.[319] Then came Giuliani, who was by no means unfamiliar as an influencer—but was unaccustomed to the courtroom. On November 7, Giuliani led a bewildering press conference in front of Four Seasons Total Landscaping in Philadelphia, where he introduced himself as “here on behalf of the Trump Campaign, as an attorney for the president,” and then accused the city of having “a sad history of voter fraud” that included the dead former heavyweight boxing champion Joe Frazier “still voting.”[320] On November 17, in Trump v. Boockvar, Giuliani was admitted pro hac vice to replace Porter Wright.[321] That same day, in an online hearing, Giuliani gave a confusing performance in which he seemed not to understand the levels of constitutional scrutiny and contradicted himself (and his own brief) by stating he was alleging voter fraud.[322] Just over a week later, the Third Circuit dismissed the Boockvar case, opening its opinion by stating: “Free, fair elections are the lifeblood of our democracy. Charges of unfairness are serious. But calling an election unfair does not make it so. Charges require specific allegations and then proof. We have neither here.”[323]
The third wave of lawsuits, in which conspiracy claims took center stage, began right before Thanksgiving and ran through the end of the year. On November 19, just after the TCF Center voting fraud case brought by Northon, Muise, and Mersino was voluntarily dismissed in Michigan for lack of evidence,[324] outlandish new evidence was offered in the RNC lobby by a team of lawyers calling themselves Trump’s “elite strike force.”[325] The team was led by Giuliani, who made the case for carrying on legal challenges despite the growing number of losses: “What I’m describing to you is a massive fraud. It isn’t a little, teeny one.”[326] Giuliani was joined by Ellis; Joseph diGenova, the former U.S. Attorney for D.C. turned Fox News commentator;[327] and Sidney Powell, a former federal prosecutor in Texas.[328] Powell had gained notoriety for representing executives involved in Enron’s 2001 collapse before authoring a book, Licensed to Lie, alleging prosecutorial misconduct by the Obama DOJ,[329] which resulted in her rise to media prominence during the Trump administration as a critic of the Mueller investigation.[330] After the election, Powell appeared on Fox promoting the discredited theory that the Scorecard supercomputer program was used to hack voting machines for Biden.[331] These claims formed the backbone of allegations made at the November 19 press conference, where Powell unspooled a communist conspiracy involving the deceased Hugo Chavez, Antifa, George Soros, Hillary Clinton, China, and Dominion to steal Trump votes.[332] In discussions with advisors, Trump stated Powell sounded “crazy.”[333] Giuliani officially distanced the campaign from Powell a few days after the press conference.[334] Nonetheless, Powell-led legal teams proceeded to file the so-called Kraken lawsuits (named after the mythological sea monster)—in Michigan and Georgia on November 25 and Arizona and Wisconsin on December 1—using a nearly identical template based on the Dominion conspiracy to seek election decertification.[335] Powell’s Michigan complaint in King v. Whitmer was emblematic. It argued that Michigan election officials disregarded concerns about Dominion, which it claimed was founded “to make certain Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chavez never lost another election” and ignored internal “red flags” during the election showing vote manipulation (including a “glitch” that converted 6,000 votes to Biden) under the supervision of a vice president with ties to Antifa.[336] The complaint contained other incredible allegations: systematic harassment and exclusion of Republican poll watchers at the TCF Center; election workers who “illegally forged, added, removed or otherwise altered information on ballots” and “changed votes for Trump;” “illegal double voting;” 30,000 “fraudulently recorded” mail-in ballots; and “at least 289,866 more ballots processed in four Michigan counties than there was processing capacity.”[337] The seventy-five-page complaint, which included confusing charts, graphs, and affidavits, alleged a hodgepodge of state and federal violations in support of its request “to decertify the results of the General Election for the Office of President.”[338]
While the Kraken suits drew the most attention, they were not the only ones to strain credulity. From the end of November through early December, a group of solo and small-firm lawyers filed a series of cases in battleground states to reverse the election. Despite the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency’s November 13 statement that the election was “the most secure in American history” and AG Barr’s announcement on December 1 that “we have not seen fraud on a scale that could have effected a different outcome,”[339] these cases charged an array of familiar fraud claims. These included new actions in Michigan and Arizona alleging fraud in relation to Dominion machines,[340] along with a challenge to the alleged exclusion of legal observers at the counting center in Maricopa County, Arizona,[341] and two suits alleging ineligible voters and faulty signature verification in Georgia.[342] The Thomas More Society backed suits in Arizona and Georgia alleging “ballot harvesting” and other violations in connection with Zuckerberg voter outreach money,[343] and improper vote counting in Pennsylvania.[344] In Wisconsin, which concluded a recount on November 29 confirming Biden’s victory by more than 20,000 votes,[345] four suits were brought attacking the integrity of absentee and mail-in ballots, two filed after the recount by lead Wisconsin lawyer for the Trump campaign, James Troupis, seeking to block state election certification based on illegal voting.[346] Some of these cases advanced ISL theory in an effort to revert Electoral College certification to Republican-controlled state legislatures.[347] Others gained notoriety for dubious allegations. In a prominent example, after Trump tweeted the claim by truck driver Jesse Morgan (speaking at a Thomas More Society-hosted voter fraud event) to have transported ballots from New York to Pennsylvania,[348] Morgan’s affidavit emerged as the linchpin of Metcalf v. Wolfe, a case again seeking to overturn the Pennsylvania results.[349] Within a week, after reports surfaced undermining Morgan’s account and unearthing that he was an avid ghost hunter,[350] the case was dismissed as “an improper and untimely election contest.”[351] Due to weak claims and the fact that the election margins for Biden continued to grow,[352] the cases through early December were resolved quickly. By December 9, all of the Kraken cases had been dismissed and by the middle of December, all of the cases filed through December 7 met a similar fate, though some remained pending on appeal.[353]
By the first week of December, the Electoral College timeline loomed large in the litigation schedule. That timeline was set by the Constitution and the Electoral Count Act of 1887, which required state-certified electors to officially cast votes on December 14 and contained a safe harbor provision requiring Congress to accept electors certified by December 8.[354] In order to flip battleground state electors pledged to vote for Biden by the deadlines, the campaign needed to demonstrate enough fraud to change the election results in Trump’s favor. Because the Kraken lawsuits and related legal challenges were failing and it was cumbersome to file new cases in every state, lawyers associated with the Trump team came up with another plan: to file suit directly with the U.S. Supreme Court asking it to overturn the election nationwide. This plan was developed by Kris Kobach, the former Kansas secretary of state well known for his anti-immigration positions, along with Mark Martin, former chief justice of the North Carolina Supreme Court and dean of Regent University School of Law.[355] The lawsuit created a legal basis to claim that the election was still in dispute despite all evidence to the contrary.
Executing this plan, on December 7, Texas AG (and Lawyers for Trump co-chair) Paxton invoked the Supreme Court’s little-used original jurisdiction over controversies between two or more states to file Texas v. Pennsylvania, which alleged that Georgia, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin violated ISL theory by making unauthorized changes to election procedures that diluted Republican votes in Texas.[356] Despite the fact that this ISL claim had been repeatedly raised and rejected in other cases, the petition asked the court to enjoin election certification in the defendant states pending resolution on the merits or, alternatively, to send elector certification back to state legislatures.[357] The petition relied on a litany of recycled fraud claims and purported “glitches” in Dominion voting machines, allegedly causing the vote count for Biden to unaccountably spike.[358] For support, the petition relied on a statistical report by Charles Cicchetti, posted on Facebook days earlier by Trump,[359] which claimed based on analysis of prior election data that “the statistical improbability of Mr. Biden winning the popular vote in [Georgia, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin] collectively is 1 in 1,000,000,000,000,000.”[360] Lawyers for Trump co-chair Paxton lobbied other Republican AGs to file an amicus brief in support, which seventeen state AGs—led by Missouri AG Eric Schmitt—did on December 9.[361] The same day, Eastman moved on behalf of the Trump campaign to intervene, reiterating the ISL argument that “there is no doubt that the officials of the Defendant States changed the rules of the contest in an unauthorized manner,” specifically asserting that an “unconstitutional change” to Georgia election law “had a material impact on the outcome of the election.”[362] Also on December 9, Trump tweeted, “This is the big one. Our County needs a victory,”[363] while Women for America First, formed by Tea Party activist Amy Kremer, organized an event in D.C. announcing a Stop the Steal bus tour through battleground states to convince lawmakers to reject Biden electors.[364] On December 11, the Supreme Court denied the Texas v. Pennsylvania petition, with Justices Alito and Thomas dissenting.[365]
D. Blur Fact and Fiction by Mixing Law and Media
Throughout the post-election litigation, there was a synergistic relationship between legal and media strategy that blurred the line between fact and fiction, cycling conspiracy claims through legal briefs and from legal briefs into the media sphere. The Cicchetti affidavit in Texas v. Pennsylvania, along with evidence presented in the Kraken cases, revealed how conspiracy claims from social media made their way into court and then were disseminated back into the media ecosystem as confirmation of the very conspiracies upon which they relied. It did not matter that the claims ultimately failed on the merits. Their proponents succeeded in mixing enough fact with fiction that the fiction itself took on an aura of fact—or at least muddied the factual waters enough to obfuscate the truth.
The strategy of blurring fact and fiction was a hallmark of Stop the Steal, which predated the 2020 election. The phrase, first coined in 2016 by Trump ally and self-professed “dirty trickster” Roger Stone,[366] was originally part of a preemptive effort to delegitimize the results of the Republican primary and national election against Hillary Clinton to be deployed if Trump lost those contests.[367] The phrase was resuscitated prior to the 2020 election to organize Trump supporters and extremist groups like the Oathkeepers, led by Yale-trained lawyer Stewart Rhodes.[368] On election day, #StopTheSteal began to circulate on social media and by November 5, multiple Stop the Steal Facebook pages were launched, which became platforms for organizing protests, including “Million MAGA rallies,” the first on November 14, the day before Trump’s announcement of the elite strike force team, and the second on December 14, the date state electors were required to officially cast their votes.[369] Stop the Steal online forums were also used to disseminate information about Trump lawsuits challenging vote counts.[370]
As these forums demonstrated, lawsuits served as vehicles by which allegations of fraud first made in legal filings could be cycled through social media in a bid to “frame a public narrative” that the election was stolen.[371] For example, after lawyers filed suit in Pennsylvania complaining about poll watcher access, Trump tweeted: “Pennsylvania prevented us from watching much of the Ballot count. Unthinkable and illegal in this country.”[372] When a Nevada lawsuit (incorrectly) claimed more than three thousand people voted after moving out of state, Trump tweeted: “Nevada is turning out to be a cesspool of Fake Votes.”[373]
Trump legal influencers also inundated media with conspiracy claims not alleged in any lawsuit, but whose repeated assertion in the media made it hard to distinguish actual legal arguments from those made outside of court. This strategy was organized through a “Strategic Communications Plan” launched by Giuliani in December 2020.[374] As part of this plan, Giuliani publicly propagated false claims, including that two poll workers at Atlanta’s State Farm Arena pulled out suitcases containing fraudulent Biden ballots from under a table—a claim based on a redacted video repudiated by Georgia officials and contradicted by the full-length version.[375] Giuliani also used his own radio show, podcast, and appearances on other far-right outlets to broadcast false claims that Pennsylvania counted more absentee ballots than it sent out, dead people voted in Georgia, and “illegal aliens” voted in Arizona.[376] Lin Wood was another active proponent of fraud claims amplified by Trump. For example, on November 15, Trump retweeted a post by Wood alleging fraudulent ballots cast in Georgia, dismissing the Georgia recount as “a scam, means nothing.”[377] Social media strategy was also integral to protests coordinated through the Stop the Steal network, which pursued actors subject to legal challenges, such as Michigan Secretary of State Jocelyn Benson, whose home was targeted on December 5 by protesters chanting “Stop the Steal.”[378] The combination of these protests and the constant media drumbeat of fraud fed an increasing sense of urgency, tinged with undertones of violence, among Trump’s most ardent supporters.
E. Create Crisis and Map Legal Path to Extraordinary Power
As the December 14 date for certified state electors to officially cast Electoral College votes drew near, and post-election litigation continued to come up empty, the Stop the Steal campaign moved into its last phase, in which it sought to heighten the sense of constitutional crisis in support of an unprecedented objective: keeping Trump in office despite his electoral loss. To do so, the campaign developed a plan to organize alternative slates of Trump electors in battleground states won by Biden.[379] According to the plan, these Trump electors would be presented on January 6 to Vice President Mike Pence—constitutionally charged with presiding over congressional certification of the Electoral College as the final act of declaring the new president—who would refuse to count the legally valid Biden electors, throwing the election to the Republican-led Congress or back to the states. As in previous campaign stages, lawyers were essential to devising this strategy and centrally involved in its execution. They conducted legal research and drafted legal memoranda outlining the alternative elector plan and justifying Pence’s authority to refuse certification, drafted documents that spelled out the specific legal steps alternative electors had to take under the Electoral Count Act to claim legal legitimacy, and actively communicated with state officials and the Pence team in efforts to advance the plan. The legal materials produced by these lawyers behind the scenes were crucial to the strategy as they sought to provide legal justification to subvert the election results—and plausible deniability for Trump, who could say he was following the advice of counsel. The plan relied on keeping alive the myth of a contested election, which required filing new lawsuits based on unsubstantiated and already-rejected claims of fraud.
The groundwork for the alternative elector plan was laid days after the election and the plan took shape in mid-November, as the first wave of election lawsuits crashed out of court and the Giuliani-led legal team gained sway. On November 8, little-known conservative lawyer Ken Chesebro, a native of Wisconsin, emailed Troupis, the lead Trump lawyer in that state.[380] The email argued that the Trump campaign could file lawsuits claiming “various systemic abuses” that could be used to persuade battleground state legislatures to appoint “alternative” electors pledged to Trump. Chesebro stated: “At minimum, with such a cloud of confusion, no votes from WI (and perhaps also MI and PA) should be counted, perhaps enough to throw the election to the House.”[381] Troupis then brought Chesebro onto the Trump campaign’s legal team and requested that he draft memos spelling out this alternative elector plan.[382] On November 18, after the legal team conceded Arizona and with the Wisconsin recount underway,[383] Chesebro circulated his first memo to Troupis. Chesebro had been a research assistant for famed liberal constitutional scholar Lawrence Tribe and had worked with Tribe on behalf of the Al Gore campaign to contest the Florida recount in the 2000 presidential election.[384] In the memo, Chesebro drew upon that experience to argue that the key deadline for Wisconsin courts to find in favor of Trump was January 6 and that to preserve legal rights to present Trump electors on that date, the campaign needed to ensure that such electors were eligible to be counted in Congress, which required they strictly follow federal and state rules to cast votes in favor of Trump by the December 14 statutory deadline.[385] The memo did not address the key distinction in the Bush-Gore election, which was that Gore had legitimate, unresolved challenges to the Florida recount.
The day after Chesebro’s memo, Giuliani and Powell held their Kraken press conference.[386] Trump lawyers and advisors immediately began reaching out to high-ranking Republican political officials in contested states to ask them not to certify Biden electors based on voter fraud. Through late November, Giuliani met with or called leaders in Michigan, Arizona, and Pennsylvania, in some cases joined by Ellis and Trump Chief of Staff Mark Meadows.[387] On Thanksgiving, Giuliani held an event after the Pennsylvania governor certified the Biden electors, repeating the false claim that the state had received seven hundred thousand more absentee ballots than it sent out.[388] On December 3, after the Wisconsin recount was concluded in favor of Biden, Troupis filed suit seeking to strike ballots for various defects.[389] The same day, in Georgia, Eastman and Ellis reached out to state legislators to advocate the appointment of Trump electors, and Atlanta attorney Ray Smith III (who had already filed two election suits and would file a third the next day) testified in front of a Georgia Senate subcommittee that Dominion machines wrongly cast six thousand votes for Biden and roughly ten thousand dead people voted.[390] In response, Trump tweeted: “Wow! Blockbuster testimony taking place right now in Georgia.”[391]
On December 6, Chesebro circulated a new, much broader memo that charted a strategy for assembling Trump electors in all six battleground states to be eligible for counting on January 6.[392] In it, Chesebro argued that “it seems feasible that the Trump campaign can prevent Biden from amassing 270 electoral votes on January 6, and force the Members of Congress, the media, and the American people to focus on the substantive evidence of illegal election and counting activities in the six contested States,” provided the alternative electors met to vote on December 14 in the prescribed legal fashion and that in each state there was “at least one lawsuit” pending.”[393] The pending lawsuits were essential to provide the veneer of ongoing election disputes. Because he believed this plan would be leaked, Chesebro recommended that “there should be messaging that presents this as a routine measure” necessary to preserve Trump’s rights on January 6 if courts later declared him the winner.[394] The memo provided detailed legal instructions on how alternative electors should proceed to mimic the requirements for certification in each state.[395]
In the wake of this memo, the campaign’s state-by-state approach kicked into high gear. On December 8, the Electoral College safe harbor date (and the day after Texas AG Paxton filed Texas v. Pennsylvania), Eastman called the RNC to ask for support for the alternative elector plan.[396] The next day, Chesebro sent Troupis a streamlined memo outlining specific legal steps for alternative electors in the battleground states and then began sending emails to Republican officials in those states with the memo and draft legal documents for the electors to use.[397] Because the entire plan hinged on showing enough fraud to change results, Giuliani hit the road to make that case, stating to the Georgia House of Representatives on December 10 that “election workers were stealing votes” at State Farm Arena and that poll worker Ruby Freeman and her daughter were “quite obviously surreptitiously passing around USB ports as if they’re vials of heroin or cocaine.”[398] Eastman reached out to Georgia political officials to instruct them on how to legally validate Trump electors.[399]
As it became increasingly clear that legal cases would not alter the election results, the plan shifted from Chesebro’s initial conception of assembling alternative electors in battleground states (to allow Pence to count them should legal disputes be resolved in Trump’s favor) to something more radical: persuading Pence not to count Biden electors based solely on the campaign’s own purported evidence of fraud. To succeed, this plan required a legal justification for Pence to reject certified electors without validation of fraud from courts or state officials, combined with a pressure campaign to force Pence to act.
To build legal justification, on December 13, Chesebro sent an email to Giuliani outlining strategies for “disrupting and delaying” the January 6 vote count—which would culminate in Pence announcing that he “cannot and will not” count any votes with two slates, forcing the election to be redone or Republican state legislatures to appoint their own electors.[400] Chesebro, seeming to acknowledge the plan was not consistent with existing law, argued that the Pence strategy was “preferable to allowing the Electoral Count Act to operate by its terms.”[401] On December 14, Trump tweeted that AG Barr would resign and Deputy AG Jeff Rosen would become the acting AG.[402] The same day, all six battleground states certified their electoral votes in favor of Biden.[403] This was after fifty-four lawsuits challenging the election results had been filed in those states—nearly all of them already resolved and none of them finding fraud—along with conclusive recounts in Georgia and Wisconsin, in addition to multiple state investigations and hearings.
Although Chesebro’s plan no longer depended on official findings of fraud, it did require some basis for continuing to suggest that the election was in dispute because of fraud to justify the presentation of alternative slates to Pence. To keep the bogus voter fraud argument alive, lawyers continued to file new lawsuits. On December 14, the campaign filed suit in New Mexico, where Trump electors were convened.[404] The Wisconsin Supreme Court dismissed Troupis’s recount lawsuit, Trump v. Biden, the same day.[405] On December 18, Trump met with Overstock.com CEO Patrick Byrne, former national security advisor Michael Flynn, Giuliani, and Powell to develop a plan for blocking congressional certification, at one point discussing appointing Powell as special counsel to investigate fraud in Georgia.[406] Also on that day, Wood filed a last-ditch lawsuit challenging the Georgia results based on a litany of already-rejected claims.[407] On December 21, Eastman and local counsel Bruce Marks filed a petition to the U.S. Supreme Court challenging three previous decisions by the Pennsylvania Supreme Court on signature verification, poll watching, and ballot envelope requirements, arguing those decisions had usurped the legislature’s power to set rules for elections under ISL theory.[408] One of these Pennsylvania decisions (barring counties from rejecting absentee/mail-in ballots based on third-party signature verification challenges) had been decided prior to the election,[409] while the other two (denying Trump poll watchers more proximate access to absentee/mail-in ballot canvassing in Philadelphia and preventing such ballots from being rejected for not having names and addresses on their outer envelopes) had been decided in November.[410] None of those cases alleged outcome-determinative numbers of votes, and none of the original lawyers had sought U.S. Supreme Court review. The ISL argument raised by Eastman and Marks had been at the heart of the Texas v. Pennsylvania Supreme Court petition, which had been denied ten days earlier.
Eastman’s lawsuit was followed by his two-page December 23 “Memo on Jan 6 scenario” outlining a theory for Pence to discard certified Biden electors from battleground states.[411] Eastman’s memo picked up where Chesebro’s had left off: moving beyond the legal technicalities of constructing alternative electors state by state to concentrating on Pence’s constitutional authority to deliver the presidency to Trump. After stating that “7 states have transmitted dual slates of electors to the President of the Senate,” Eastman argued that the Electoral Count Act was likely unconstitutional since it allowed the two chambers of Congress “acting separately” to resolve election disputes, while the 12th Amendment required votes be counted by a joint session; he also suggested the act violated ISL theory by permitting state judges and elections officials to play a role in reviewing vote counts.[412] The claimed unconstitutionality was used as a predicate to then argue that Pence could break the procedures of the act, announcing that “because of the ongoing disputes in the 7 States, there are no electors that can be deemed validly appointed,” leading to a count of the remaining ballots in favor of Trump: “Pence then gavels President Trump as re-elected.”[413] Anticipating Democratic objections to this, Eastman argued that Pence could alternatively send the matter to the House, which Republicans controlled, or call a stalemate, giving state legislatures more time.[414] For all of these proposals, Eastman stated that “the main thing here is that Pence should do this without asking for permission,” forcing objectors to file a lawsuit that Eastman thought would be deemed “non-justiciable.”[415] In an email to Chesebro attaching the memo, Eastman suggested that it was “Better for [Pence] just to act boldly and be challenged, since the challenge would likely lead to the Court denying review on nonjusticiable political question grounds.”[416] On the same day, Trump retweeted a memo called “Operation ‘PENCE’ Card” asserting Pence had legal authority to disqualify electors,[417] while lawyer Todd Harding—from a small personal injury and family law firm in Griffin, Georgia, who had earlier joined the Thomas More Society in challenging alleged Zuckerberg-financed “ballot harvesting”—filed yet another suit seeking election decertification for fraud at State Farm Arena in Atlanta, Georgia, including allegations that poll watchers believed ballots were fraudulent because they were not creased.[418]
Trump lawyers’ efforts intensified the following week. On December 29, Trump asked top DOJ lawyers to file a lawsuit challenging the election, which they refused to do.[419] On December 30, at a Georgia Senate Judiciary Committee hearing, Giuliani repeated false statements that felons and dead people voted in that state.[420] On New Year’s Eve in Georgia, Eastman and Kurt Hilbert (the founding member of the Hilbert Law Firm in Roswell specializing in business, real estate, and employment law) filed Trump v. Kemp, which included similar claims in seeking decertification under ISL theory,[421] even though Eastman had conceded to Trump campaign lawyers that some allegations were not accurate.[422] In a memo to Trump on the “Constitutional Analysis of Vice President Authority for January 6,” Ellis offered the clearest instructions yet, directly asserting that “the Vice President should . . . not open any of the votes” from battleground states.[423] On New Year’s Day 2021, Trump tweeted five times to promote the January 6 rally at the White House Ellipse, while Missouri Senator Josh Hawley, on the Stop the Steal bus tour, stated he would object to Electoral College certification.[424]
On January 2, with Foley & Lardner law firm partner Cleta Mitchell on a recorded line, Trump called Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger urging him to “find” 11,780 votes—the margin required to give Trump a victory in that state.[425] The same day, Trump, Giuliani, and Eastman conducted a Zoom meeting with three hundred legislators from battleground states, urging them to endorse alternative electors based on voter fraud.[426] On January 3, Eastman circulated a revised six-page memo in which he engaged in more developed “war gaming” alternatives for Pence to refuse certification.[427] Asserting that “important state election laws were altered or dispensed with altogether in key swing states,” Eastman offered a list of “significant violations,” including already-rejected claims that poll observers were illegally barred in Michigan and Pennsylvania, and that Nevada ballot signatures were not correctly inspected.[428] The memo stated that because the election was corrupted by “outright fraud,” when handed “multiple ballots” from battleground states, Pence had the legal authority to “determine[] on his own which [slate of electors] is valid” or “adjourn[] the joint session of Congress” despite the fact that the governors of all states had certified the Biden electors as required by law.[429] Under scenarios labeled “TRUMP WINS,” Eastman suggested that Pence could reject certified electors outright based on “ongoing election disputes,” thereby “throwing the election to the House” where Trump would prevail, or that Pence could adjourn Congress and delay the count until the challenges were resolved.[430] Eastman ended the memo by stating that the plan was “BOLD, Certainly. But this Election was Stolen by a strategic Democratic plan to systematically flout existing election laws for partisan advantage; we’re no longer playing by Queensbury Rules.”[431]
F. Coopt Gatekeepers and Mobilize Distrust
As the Chesebro and Eastman memos pointed the campaign toward its final objective—thwarting Pence’s constitutional duty to count certified electoral votes on January 6—efforts to persuade Pence to cooperate escalated. These efforts split along two tracks. The first involved an attempt to coopt legal gatekeepers in the DOJ by convincing leadership to legally endorse fraud claims that had been discredited in every other venue but that were essential underpinnings of the Pence legal plan. The second track involved ramping up public pressure on Pence to participate in the plan, which was to culminate in the January 6 rally at the Ellipse, where supporters were invited to “be there, will be wild.”[432]
The DOJ gambit developed immediately after AG Barr’s resignation was announced on December 14. The next day, Trump summoned Acting AG Rosen and Deputy AG Richard Donoghue to push Atlanta State Farm Arena fraud claims, which the DOJ officials rebuffed as without merit.[433] Undeterred, the following week, Trump summoned little-known DOJ attorney Jeffrey Clark: a Federalist Society member and former Kirkland & Ellis lawyer, then serving as assistant AG for the Environment and Natural Resources Division, where he had previously worked under President George W. Bush.[434] Clark kept the meeting secret from DOJ leaders, who had instructed him not to communicate with Trump.[435] On December 27, Trump called Rosen to say he was considering replacing Rosen with Clark.[436] The next day, Clark sent Rosen and Donoghue a draft letter addressed to the Georgia governor, house speaker, and senate president, stating that the DOJ had “identified significant concerns that may have impacted the outcome of the election in multiple states, including the State of Georgia,” and recommending that the Georgia General Assembly (which had already held hearings on alleged election fraud) convene a special session to “receive new evidence, and deliberate on the matter.”[437] Rosen refused to send the letter and again instructed Clark not to communicate with Trump.[438] On January 2, Clark told Rosen and Donoghue that he would decline Trump’s offer to make him acting AG if they would sign the letter.[439] When Rosen and Donoghue again refused, Clark redrafted the letter to more aggressively state that there was, in fact, “evidence of significant irregularities that may have impacted the outcome of the election in multiple states” and met with Trump and White House Counsel Pat Cipollone, who tried to dissuade Clark from becoming acting AG.[440] When Clark told Rosen he was going to take the position, Rosen scheduled a January 4 meeting with Trump, attended by Clark, Cipollone, and OLC lawyers, in which Rosen said he and senior DOJ officials and White House Counsel would resign en masse if Clark became acting AG.[441]
Trump stood down but did not give up, instead turning up the heat on Pence. After the DOJ meeting on January 4, Trump and Eastman met with Pence, his chief of staff, and counsel Greg Jacob in the Oval Office, where Eastman argued that Pence had the power to reject or delay certification on January 6, while Jacob pushed back.[442] The next day, after another Ellis memo recommending Pence “not open the purported certification” for Arizona, Trump tweeted: “The Vice President has the power to reject fraudulently chosen electors.”[443] As Eastman made a last-ditch effort to persuade Pence’s chief of staff to go along with the plan, Trump met directly with Pence, reportedly stating—in language that precisely echoed the Eastman memo—that even though Democrats had cheated, Pence still wanted to “play by Marquess of Queensbury rules.”[444]
The next day—January 6—at the Ellipse, Giuliani and Eastman both spoke at a rally organized by Turning Point USA and coordinated by the White House with input from House GOP leaders.[445] Each lawyer affirmed that Pence had legal authority not to certify the election because of fraud. Giuliani, speaking first, asserted that “every single thing that has been outlined as the plan for today is perfectly legal” and then recounted options laid out in Eastman’s memo, before stating that “last night” an expert who had examined Dominion machines found “absolutely what he believes is conclusive proof that . . . the votes were deliberately changed.”[446] Eastman then took the stage and, apparently alluding to his last-ditch Supreme Court petition against Pennsylvania, claimed that “we’ve got petitions pending before the Supreme Court that identify . . . the number of times state election officials ignored or violated state law in order to put Vice President Biden over the finish line. We know there was fraud, traditional fraud that occurred. We know that dead people voted.”[447] After, the crowd—which included armed far-right militia groups that had been organizing since the election through Stop the Steal networks—stormed the Capitol and disrupted the Electoral College vote proceeding (Pence was rushed out by Secret Service).[448] Congress reconvened that night and, after multiple objections to electoral votes from battleground states, Pence counted the legally certified Biden electors, officially sanctioning the Biden presidential victory in the wee hours of January 7.[449] Trump left the White House two weeks later, without attending Biden’s inauguration and never conceding defeat.
This Part has traced antidemocratic legal mobilization in the Stop the Steal campaign, showing how law was a critical tool in Trump’s attacks on the key foundation of American democracy: free and fair elections. False claims of election fraud were made in court and the public sphere to promote a cycle of distrust: undermining faith in the election outcome toward the end of provoking a constitutional crisis to justify Trump’s reach for extraordinary power. By mapping the role of lawyers at each stage of this cycle, the case study illuminates how law may be deployed to weaken the rule of law, which has important implications for future research on lawyers in backsliding democracy.
A crucial takeaway from the case study is that the Stop the Steal campaign did not reject law but rather purported to follow its letter by rationalizing legal grounds for overturning the election results. In so doing, the campaign mobilized the symbolic power of law to shape public opinion by disseminating the false narrative that the legal system was not working, stymied by corrupt voting officials and judges, and could only be redeemed by authorizing Trump to override the flawed legal system in the national interest. The campaign, in short, made the case that it was on the side of legality. In this effort, lawyers played critical roles out in front, as litigators and legal influencers, and behind the scenes, theorizing a legal pathway to retain power and advising the president on how to follow it.
In these roles, lawyers were called upon to provide essential legal support at every stage in the mobilization cycle, contributing conventional professional skills—research, fact-gathering, litigation, and advice—toward end goals antithetical to professional values. Before the election, lawyers conducted legal research to identify potential risks of election fraud and legal arguments to challenge them (stage 1) and organized collectively as Lawyers for Trump to publicly advance the campaign’s voting fraud agenda and build a legal network to prepare for election lawsuits (stage 2). After the election, lawyers litigated in court, raising increasingly untenable and sometimes conspiracy-filled fraud claims (stage 3), while legal influencers made public statements outside of court endorsing the same unsubstantiated theories (stage 4). As lawsuits failed, lawyers recruited outside of Trump’s main campaign team advanced legal opinions justifying the alternative elector scheme and Pence’s authority to reject electors on January 6, and advised Trump and third parties essential to the plan (including the Trump electors and political officials in battleground states) on the steps required to effectuate it (stage 5). In the end, Trump sought to place the DOJ in service of his plan by identifying government lawyers to support it, while mobilizing outside lawyers to pressure Pence, in private and public, to block election certification—contributing to the frenzied atmosphere before the January 6 Attack (stage 6).
As the cycle progressed, the composition of the legal team changed, eventually taken over by more radical lawyers as the campaign itself pursued more radical ends. While the initial Lawyers for Trump group was dominated by legal elites from the conservative legal establishment and Big Law, the lawyers recruited to execute post-election legal challenges, particularly after the first wave of cases failed to change the results, were primarily from solo and small firms, many from nonurban parts of battleground states without election law expertise, and in some of the most extreme cases, assisted by movement lawyers from conservative legal nonprofits. As the campaign entered the conspiracy litigation and alternative elector phases, mainstream lawyers—in established law firms, inside government, and on the campaign—distanced themselves as Giuliani, Eastman, and others took over as outside counsel to Trump and his campaign. By retaining outside lawyers to represent him in his candidate and campaign capacities—which American presidents are permitted to do—Trump was able to maneuver around the government lawyers hired to keep him within democratic guardrails.
These outside lawyers produced facially legitimate legal work product—briefs, opinions, and forms—that asserted illegitimate challenges to legal rules securing presidential elections and ensuring that losing candidates accept the results. For instance, in the conspiracy litigation phase of the campaign, lawyers assembled a portfolio of worst practices: cookie-cutter voting fraud lawsuits with similar formats, legal claims, and unverified facts disseminated through legal networks and used across battleground states. The most egregious example of this was the Powell-led Kraken lawsuits in Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, and Wisconsin, which included verbatim language framing the complaints, nearly identical false factual allegations about voting machines, reliance on similar dubious expert statistical claims, almost identical legal arguments, and equivalent prayers for relief.[450] Other instances included Kaardal’s Arizona and Georgia lawsuits, which contained similar allegations that Zuckerberg funding to facilitate voter outreach and voting by mail caused local governments to violate state election law and the federal constitution, producing outcome-determinative fraud,[451] and Bopp, Jr.’s cases in Georgia, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin seeking the exclusion of allegedly illegal votes in Democratic counties to invalidate those states’ presidential election results.[452]
During the fake elector scheme, Trump lawyers invoked progressive legal precedents in support of goals deeply hostile to their principles, asserting ideological equivalency between prior good-faith efforts to protect a presidential candidate’s legal rights in legitimate election contests and their own bad-faith efforts to undo the legal results of a settled outcome. This strategy was deployed by Eastman and Chesebro, who sought to justify discarding legally valid Electoral College votes when there were no longer legitimate legal disputes over the 2020 election outcome by invoking liberal legal scholar Lawrence Tribe’s analysis of the 2000 Florida recount in the Bush-Gore election—when there was, in fact, a legitimate ongoing legal dispute casting the outcome in real doubt.
In advancing the fake elector scheme, these same lawyers also deployed cynical legal mimicry that sought to use legal formalism to subvert law’s substantive content. Chesebro masterminded this approach with his detailed instructions on how to assemble Trump electors in battleground states by strictly following the letter of the Electoral Count Act to mimic elector voting by its December 14 deadline—even as doing so would subvert the legally valid electors for Biden certified by those states. These instructions underscore just how important legal memos, like those of Chesebro and Eastman, were to the overall campaign. Their significance was not just in presenting a legal theory but actualizing it on the ground. The memos were tools to convince relevant legal actors—the electors themselves, state officials necessary to provide legal resources, and the vice president—that their cooperation was necessary to preserve the campaign’s legal rights in the face of claimed electoral uncertainty, while also providing a blueprint to frame the public narrative that legal authority existed and should be exercised on January 6.
While the case study maps the legal strategy of attack, it also gives insight into how the attack was ultimately thwarted. As a cadre of radical lawyers broke professional boundaries to challenge the election without merit, lawyers (including judges) closer to the professional mainstream resisted. In the end, Stop the Steal was foiled by the decisions of judges to systematically reject the campaign’s post-election challenges and of some lawyers within the Trump administration who performed their gatekeeping roles under enormous counterpressure. AG Barr ultimately refused to lend the DOJ’s authority to election fraud conspiracy claims, reportedly calling them “bullshit,” while top AG brass and White House counsel squashed the effort to install Trump loyalist Clark as an acting AG willing to endorse fraud.[453] Pence’s legal counsel also held firm, refusing to endorse Eastman’s “TRUMP WINS” scenarios in which Pence would reject legitimate Biden electors.
Yet, despite this successful resistance, a year after the election, polls showed that precisely because of Stop the Steal’s coordinated media and legal campaign, 70 percent of Republicans believed that the election was not “free and fair” and Biden was not the legitimate president—a figure that remained virtually unchanged in 2023.[454] That Trump’s popularity among Republican voters has held in the face of four criminal indictments suggests that he has achieved the most coveted—and dangerous—autocratic asset: authorization by core supporters to commit wrongdoing with impunity.[455] This has been achieved by Trump’s ongoing efforts to delegitimize the election (and prosecutions against him), carrying forward tactics honed in Stop the Steal to lay the groundwork for another run for power, in which the courts and lawyers who helped ensure that the campaign was a “near miss” the first time around will be subject to new, more vigorous attacks.[456] The damage done by using law to promote a cycle of distrust creates ongoing democratic risk.
IV. The Legal Profession as Infrastructure of Democracy
In response to the twin democratic threats of slow erosion and fast attack analyzed in Parts II and III, this Part considers how the legal profession may better serve as an “infrastructure of democracy” critical to “maintaining and defending an inclusive and equally open public sphere in between market and state pressures.”[457] Drawing upon lessons from the U.S. case, Part IV examines what can be done to strengthen this infrastructure domestically and what can be learned by studying backsliding in other countries to predict and preempt further attacks at home. Toward this end, the first Section examines how to promote greater professional resilience against backsliding by disabling fast-track democratic attacks and fortifying lawyers’ democratic role against slow-road decline. The next Section then asks what comparative study can teach about collective resistance to autocracy: highlighting the need to examine how transnational networks and individual incentives influence the development of antidemocratic lawyering around the globe and how legal context shapes diverse forms of legal mobilization against the rule of law.
A. Toward Professional Resilience
While Stop the Steal exposed significant vulnerabilities in professional regulation and values, it also spotlighted the importance of ethical resistance in the struggle against democratic backsliding by lawyers in cornerstone institutions of the legal profession: the bar, courts, and law schools. Reflecting on the complex legacy of Trump lawyering and the broader professional challenges that contributed to its emergence, this Section provides a preliminary accounting of what the profession has done—and could do better—to reduce the risk of future election attacks, while exploring changes in regulation and education to address underlying currents of professional erosion. These changes are not meant to substitute for a more radical restructuring of the profession or rethinking of professional identity, but rather to complement such efforts through concrete action to address specific democratic concerns that may be achievable in the near term.
1. Disabling Democratic Attacks on the Fast Track
As the Stop the Steal campaign underscored, aspiring autocrats target the legitimacy of elections as a central strategy to seize power.[458] Disabling election attacks is therefore critical to prevent democracy from jumping onto the fast track to autocracy. While election attacks occur through coordinated efforts by multiple actors across different venues, lawyers can play vanguard roles by legitimizing legal challenges that undermine public confidence in election integrity. Accordingly, while professional reform cannot by itself stop election interference, it may be used to more effectively police lawyer conduct in relation to elections—holding lawyers to a higher standard of accountability because of the democratic stakes.[459]
The 2020 presidential election attacks have brought a heightened sense of urgency to this effort. This is due in part to the emergence of new civil society organizations launched after the election, including States United Democracy Center and The 65 Project, which have filed numerous ethics complaints and waged a sophisticated media campaign to promote professional enforcement.[460] In response, state bar associations, empowered to license and discipline lawyers for ethical misconduct and long viewed as conservative and out of touch, have responded to public demands for accountability by initiating disciplinary proceedings against pivotal Trump lawyers. These include the bars in California (Eastman),[461] Colorado (Ellis),[462] D.C. (Giuliani and Clark),[463] Georgia (Wood),[464] New York (Giuliani),[465] and Texas (Powell and Paxton).[466] In prosecuting Giuliani, the D.C. Bar explicitly emphasized that interference with the right to vote is a particularly “destructive” act requiring the ultimate sanction: disbarment.[467] For election subversion to be deterred in the future, it is essential that lawyers proven to have broken ethical rules be stripped of the privilege to practice law. While pending cases demonstrate the tools that bars have to discipline lawyers for election interference, however, they also highlight challenges to successful prosecution.
The disciplinary cases brought against Trump lawyers involve a suite of ethical rules that prohibit lawyer lies. These rules require candor to courts (which includes making truthful statements and filing nonfrivolous claims) and third parties during representation,[468] while also prohibiting dishonesty outside of representation and action prejudicial to the administration of justice.[469] A key challenge in Trump cases is overcoming the lawyers’ central line of defense: they have a right to make what turn out to be false claims based on weak evidence provided to them at the time. This defense—that the lawyers’ election claims were “true enough”[470]—is combined with the “hired gun” advocacy excuse—that the lawyers were simply providing the most zealous defense of their client’s position in a frenzied, high-stakes situation.[471]
The ethics prosecutions of Giuliani and Eastman highlight the challenge of overcoming these defenses. Both the D.C. and New York bars charged Giuliani with frivolous claim-making and false statements in relation to his involvement in Trump v. Boockvar, the federal lawsuit disputing the Pennsylvania presidential election results. As described in Part III, in that case, Giuliani alleged election fraud in a November 17 hearing although fraud was not included in the complaint.[472] Giuliani later amended the complaint to include fraud claims unsupported by evidence, specifically alleging that observational barriers for poll workers enabled ballot fraud on a massive scale requiring election decertification.[473] In the New York State Bar case, Giuliani argued that the entire disciplinary investigation violated his First Amendment right to free speech.[474] He modified his position in front of the D.C. Bar, which held disciplinary hearings in December 2022, arguing that he did not make frivolous claims because he reasonably relied on poll worker statements in the chaotic period after the election, when the “fastmoving” case “did not permit him to investigate fully.”[475]
Eastman adopted a similar defense in response to disbarment proceedings in California, where he was charged with committing “moral turpitude” by using false or misleading claims (such as “7 states have transmitted dual slates of electors” and the election was tainted by “outright fraud”) in his memos on the “Jan 6 scenario” to make legally unsupported arguments purporting to authorize Vice President Pence to refuse Electoral College certification for Biden.[476] In his response, Eastman doubled down on debunked claims of fraud, arguing that there was “significant evidence” at the time of a “strategic Democratic plan to systematically flout existing election laws” in Pennsylvania, repeating claims about the illegality of state mail-in protocols that had been rejected by the Pennsylvania Supreme Court well before he authored the memos, and asserting that he did not know his statements were false since “evidence of ‘fraud’ was hotly contested at the time and remains so.”[477]
While the D.C. and New York proceedings have thus far gone against Giuliani,[478] and the California State Bar Court has recommended Eastman’s disbarment,[479] these cases could be decided on appeal, where the scope of First Amendment protection for lawyer speech and the ability of lawyers to make statements based on evidence of dubious validity would be central issues. While a full assessment of the merits is outside the scope of this Article, two observations can be made. First, although there are serious questions about the degree to which the First Amendment should protect lawyer lies in the course of representation,[480] the Trump cases involve lawyer speech in connection with legal proceedings, where the justification for truth-telling to protect the administration of justice is strongest.[481] Giuliani and Eastman’s out-of-court statements were intrinsically connected to pending legal proceedings in which they were both involved. Second, allowing the First Amendment to protect lying lawyers against discipline in this context would create a significant moral hazard problem. As a practical matter, permitting lawyers to successfully invoke a “true enough” defense based on their own understanding of events, no matter how attenuated from reality, would set a dangerous precedent by inviting other lawyers to justify false statements to courts and the public in reference to conspiracy claims, easily accessible on the web—creating a slippery slope away from ethical enforcement.
Another challenge to prosecuting Trump lawyers in the context of U.S. bar federalism is state-by-state variation in procedures and standards for imposing professional discipline. State bars have discretion in ordering a range of sanctions, negotiating settlements, and permitting voluntary resignation in lieu of sanction—and some have exercised this discretion in Trump cases, raising concerns about ethical accountability.[482] In Colorado, Ellis settled her ethics case for the lenient penalty of public censure (soon before being criminally charged and pleading guilty to a felony in the Georgia election interference case), while the Georgia bar allowed Lin Wood to resign without sanction.[483] States also have different procedures for reviewing ethics complaints that may produce disparate results. For example, while California prosecuted Eastman in front of a dedicated state bar court with full-time ethics judges, in Texas (where Powell is being prosecuted), general state trial courts with elected judges[484] review disciplinary actions upon request of the prosecuted lawyer.[485] These differences raise the potential for variation in case treatment. In California, the Eastman case has resulted in State Bar Court Judge Yvette Roland’s 128-page ruling recommending disbarment after a bitterly contested months-long trial.[486] In Texas, by contrast, Powell’s bar prosecution—alleging that she violated Texas rules prohibiting frivolous lawsuits, unreasonable litigation cost and delay, false statements to court, false evidence, and misrepresentation in connection with the four Kraken lawsuits[487]—was dismissed with prejudice in February 2023 by Texas District Court Judge Andrea Bouressa.[488] In her ruling, Judge Bouressa refused to consider four of the six exhibits submitted by bar counsel in response to Powell’s summary judgment motion because they were misnumbered.[489] The rejected exhibits included documents related to Powell’s Georgia Kraken lawsuit, which had already been submitted in a previous filing, and Powell’s response to document production and interrogatory requests.[490] In May, after the Texas dismissal, the Michigan Attorney Grievance Commission, invoking the bar’s authority to discipline out-of-state lawyers for infractions committed in-state, filed a complaint against Powell and other lawyers behind the Kraken suit, including non-Michigan licensees Wood and Craig Mauger.[491] Sanctions against out-of-state lawyers may preclude future practice in that state, and any sanctions may also be enforced in the lawyers’ home jurisdictions under rules of disciplinary reciprocity.[492]
Although retroactive discipline of lawyers is critical for accountability and deterrence, the challenges facing bar prosecution suggest the need for proactive strategies and highlight the importance of other legal actors in the enforcement regime. As the ethics cases against Trump lawyers underscore, the slow-moving system of ethical prosecution, which can take years to conclude, is ill suited to the fast-paced demands of real-time election attacks, which threaten imminent democratic harm. Because of this, some state bars are considering tools to strengthen lawyers’ obligations to protect elections.[493] One such tool would provide immediate injunctive relief, akin to a temporary restraining order (TRO), in cases where there is substantial evidence that a lawyer is engaged in conduct that threatens the integrity of an election or imposes other serious democratic harm. Upon motion by affected parties or the bar, this remedy would permit the bar to temporarily suspend an offending lawyer’s right to practice, providing an additional lever for defusing imminent election threats—at a minimum, allowing bars to pause lawyer activity that raises significant concerns of public harm. Such a remedy raises difficult issues of timing and proof. It may be hard for bars to ascertain the seriousness of fraudulent claims by lawyers without lengthy investigation and, even in TROs, parties are entitled to due process. Nonetheless, such a tool might have made a difference in Stop the Steal, where several lawyers were repeat players, filing a series of lawsuits designed to create confusion and cause delay (for example, Powell in the Kraken cases, or Eastman in the late challenges in Pennsylvania and Georgia) and providing legal support to local counsel ill equipped to quickly file complex election challenges outside their areas of expertise (for example, Kaardal on behalf of the Thomas More Society in the Arizona and Georgia cases challenging Zuckerberg money or Bopp, Jr. in the Georgia, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin cases alleging voting fraud).
The template for such a TRO-style action already exists. California has a rule allowing the State Bar Court to “order the involuntary inactive enrollment of an attorney,” without a full-blown disciplinary hearing, if it finds the “attorney has caused or is causing substantial harm to . . . the public” and there is “a reasonable probability” that the bar “will prevail on the merits of the underlying disciplinary matter.”[494] The bar has used this mechanism for suspension through “trial on paper” infrequently, but it was recently invoked against a lawyer accused of stealing client funds in relation to the Girardi scandal.[495] Similarly, in New York, the bar is empowered to suspend lawyers on “an interim basis . . . upon a finding by the court that the respondent has engaged in conduct immediately threatening the public interest.”[496] This was the provision under which the New York State Bar suspended Giuliani—although that suspension came six months after Trump left office.[497]
As the Giuliani case suggests, bar action can complement, though not replace, efforts to protect elections by other actors. In particular, as Stop the Steal highlighted, courts play an essential role on the front lines of election attack. Courts wield powerful tools that hold lawyers to account and protect themselves against being used for election subversion: they can demand facts, reject unsubstantiated claims, and dismiss frivolous suits. Overall, courts performed these functions well in the 2020 election, and U.S. judicial independence has been rightly credited as a central reason for why the Trump election attack failed. In a small number of cases since, courts have exercised their inherent authority to impose sanctions on attorneys involved in the most egregious election lawsuits. In a prominent case, King v. Whitmer, Powell and several other lawyers were ordered to pay the State of Michigan and City of Detroit’s attorney’s fees for the Kraken suit.[498] While important to promote accountability, the imposition of sanctions against lawyers after the fact may not provide a full remedy to state actors due to unrecoverable time and reputation costs, and because not all courts are willing to incur the time to impose sanctions (which can involve extensive satellite litigation)—and not all sanctions motions prevail.[499] This highlights the importance of coordinated action between courts and the bar to ensure lawyer accountability in election cases. While sanctioning courts should swiftly notify the bar to facilitate the disciplinary process, the bar must also take proactive steps to establish regular channels of communication with judges on the front lines to facilitate timely access to information of lawyer misconduct.
Even as courts held the line against the 2020 election attack, and some have taken action against lawyers leading the charge, the attack also exposed structural weaknesses and the limits of judicial power. Most significantly, the ease of access to courts by lawyers motivated to legitimize fraud claims enabled the Stop the Steal campaign to keep cases in play long enough to advance the alternative elector scheme all the way to January 6. Courts have discretionary power over one little-appreciated tool that might have made a difference: pro hac vice admission, which permits out-of-state lawyers to appear for a specific case if associated with local counsel and the court determines the lawyer is fit to practice.[500] In the Trump post-election lawsuits, there were forty-three instances of pro hac vice admission, including by Giuliani in Pennsylvania and Powell in the Kraken suits. Table 1 shows lawyers with more than one admission.
Lawyer | Admissions | Jurisdictions |
---|---|---|
Sidney Powell | 4 | AZ, GA, MI, WI |
Howard Kleinhendler | 4 | AZ, GA, MI, WI |
Julia Haller | 4 | AZ, GA, MI, WI |
Emily Newman | 4 | AZ, GA, MI, WI |
James Bopp, Jr. | 4 | GA, MI, PA, WI |
Lin Wood | 3 | AZ, MI, WI |
Brandon Johnson | 2 | AZ, WI |
Erick Kaardal | 2 | AZ, GA |
William Mohrman | 2 | AZ, GA |
Sue Becker | 2 | AZ, GA |
Richard Coleson | 2 | MI, WI |
Mark Hearne | 2 | MI, WI |