In a shocking turn of events, former Alaska federal judge Joshua Kindred announced his resignation in July 2024 after the Ninth Circuit Judicial Council concluded that he had engaged in sexual harassment towards his law clerks and fostered a hostile work environment throughout his five-year tenure on the bench. The news jolted me awake with a late-night inquiry from The New York Times. Kindred’s resignation was unprecedented, as federal judges typically cling to their lifetime appointments, leading to a profound moment of introspection within the legal community. This incident marked one of the rare occasions when a federal judge stepped down due to misconduct allegations, drawing comparisons to the infamous resignation of Alex Kozinski, who departed from the same circuit amid similar controversies seven years prior. Despite this, some in the judiciary attempted to label Kindred as merely a “bad apple,” suggesting that his resignation was an isolated incident rather than indicative of a broader systemic issue.
In contrast to the narrative of isolated incidents, recent revelations suggest a more troubling reality. A comprehensive investigation by National Public Radio uncovered testimonies from 42 current and former judiciary employees, shedding light on a pervasive culture of harassment, bullying, and abusive conduct involving 24 federal judges, irrespective of political affiliation. Law clerks, notorious for their trepidation in speaking to the media, remain largely unheard. The judiciary’s reaction to this reporting was one of outrage, revealing their dedication to maintaining secrecy around such issues and weaponizing confidentiality to deter law clerks from voicing their grievances. They countered the findings by highlighting that two of the three judges featured in the report were no longer serving, portraying this as evidence of their commitment to addressing misconduct.
Judicial leaders assert that they have significantly enhanced protections to foster safe and respectful workplaces within the judiciary. However, despite their claims of reform, they provided scant details regarding specific measures designed to protect law clerks or ensure accountability for judges. The judiciary continues to rely on suspiciously low statistics regarding formal complaints to affirm the health of its workplace culture, while numerous law clerks feel too intimidated to step forward with their stories. This raises alarm bells, especially given that the judiciary rarely initiates independent investigations without a formal misconduct complaint lodged by a law clerk.
The Administrative Office of the U.S. Courts (AO) and the Judicial Conference frequently cite their alarmingly low misconduct statistics as evidence that no significant issues exist within the judiciary. They reported only seven Employee Dispute Resolution (EDR) complaints from law clerks over a two-year period from 2021 to 2023, and just two Judicial Conduct and Disability (JC&D) Act complaints filed by judiciary employees in 2024. However, these figures reflect a deeply flawed system that discourages reporting by creating an atmosphere where complaints are deemed unwelcome and unlikely to yield results. Many clerks suffer in silence, believing there are no viable options for recourse.
The low rate of misconduct complaints does not indicate a secure workplace; rather, it often signifies that mechanisms for reporting are ineffective or nonexistent. Employees frequently feel unsafe reporting misconduct. The judiciary fails to grasp a critical point echoed by many mistreated clerks: they do not believe that their concerns will be taken seriously or investigated thoroughly, which deters them from filing complaints.
The challenges faced by clerks when reporting misconduct are significant. When they do take the bold step of filing a complaint or drawing attention to misconduct, the institution often retaliates by quietly reassigning them to different judges instead of addressing the underlying issues. In the most egregious situations, judges are encouraged to resign or retire rather than face proper scrutiny. However, a resignation does little to solve the problem if the judge continues to mistreat new subordinates in private practice or retaliates against former clerks by providing negative references or undermining their careers. Those who endeavor to hold abusive judges accountable often encounter severe retaliation behind the scenes.
In smaller legal markets, such as the Minnesota bankruptcy bar, judges possess immense power over their clerks’ careers and reputations. The fear of retaliation or retribution from a powerful judge stifles clerks from voicing their concerns or filing complaints. Their silence speaks volumes.
Currently, the District of Minnesota is confronting its own crisis. Less than a year after Kindred’s highly publicized resignation, federal bankruptcy judge Kesha Tanabe—appointed by her colleagues—is attempting to resign discreetly on March 31, 2025, amidst serious allegations of misconduct, seemingly to evade accountability. Under the existing application of the JC&D Act and its associated Rules for Judicial Conduct and Disability Proceedings, once a judge resigns, the judiciary loses jurisdiction over that judge, effectively halting any ongoing investigation. Disturbingly, Judge Tanabe is not an isolated case in this district; another Minnesota judge, Wilhelmina Wright, reportedly retired last year under similar allegations of misconduct. This pattern indicates that quiet resignations, rather than thorough investigations, have become the norm.
Instead of seizing this moment to demonstrate a genuine commitment to transparency and accountability, the federal judiciary is, as expected, attempting to maintain silence. Their efforts aim not only to protect their colleague but also to prevent renewed public scrutiny regarding the systemic issues of misconduct that persist within the federal courts. The judiciary’s claims of reform are undermined by the circumstances surrounding Tanabe’s resignation and their attempts to suppress information, suggesting that true change is still far from reach.
It is essential to clarify that there is no implication that Tanabe’s alleged misconduct is similar to the sexual harassment detailed in the Kindred case. Nonetheless, both situations underscore a broader issue: judges who mistreat their staff or breach professional norms often evade meaningful discipline. Alarmingly, clerks seeking accountability are sometimes discouraged from filing complaints or pressured to retract them after doing so. In some cases, those dissuading clerks from reporting are judicial employees entrusted with providing impartial support. Furthermore, it is crucial to recognize that judicial misconduct transcends political lines: both Democratic and Republican judicial appointees have mistreated their clerks, and clerks from both liberal and conservative backgrounds have faced maltreatment from powerful judges without any legal recourse. Kindred is a Republican, while Tanabe is a Democrat.
Tanabe, a liberal appointee, served for merely three years. During her short tenure, she allegedly mistreated, terminated, and retaliated against several employees, despite judges typically having only two clerks and one judicial assistant at a time.
Reports indicate that Tanabe has been under scrutiny by the Eighth Circuit for several years, although that oversight was not evident in the press release announcing her resignation:
According to District of Minnesota Chief Judge Schiltz:
Judge Tanabe has contributed significantly over the past three years in her role as a bankruptcy judge, as a frequent speaker, as a mentor to numerous lawyers and judges, and as a dedicated member of our “federal family.” We will miss Judge Tanabe, but she will continue her career as one of the leading bankruptcy attorneys in Minnesota, so we will see her frequently.
Additionally, Chief Bankruptcy Judge Constantine remarked:
“We are grateful for Judge Tanabe’s service, particularly her efforts to educate both the bench and bar.”
Despite these misleading statements, many of Tanabe’s clerks and subordinates hold a different view. It is said that once a courageous clerk lodged a complaint, the judge subsequently agreed to resign. While chief judges possess the authority to initiate JC&D investigations into judges, they rarely do so unless formal complaints are filed, which could lead to public or private reprimands, sanctions, or even impeachment. In this instance, it seems the court opted not to pursue any investigation.
These practices distort the data related to judicial misconduct, enabling the AO to incorrectly assert that harassment is infrequent. Ultimately, the system protects its own at the expense of vulnerable clerks. Although the judiciary insists it has made strides toward reform, the experiences of clerks involved in the Tanabe and Kindred cases cast serious doubts on the effectiveness of these measures.
Judges are essentially shielded from accountability for their misconduct. Even after resignation, they can retaliate against clerks who they perceive as having complained. Given the ongoing threats posed by judges post-resignation, one clerk reached out to the Eighth Circuit Director of Workplace Relations (DWR), known for discouraging clerks from filing complaints and providing misleading guidance, to express interest in pursuing a JC&D complaint. The DWR dissuaded the clerk from filing in writing, claiming that the EDR complaint sufficed.
Despite this, the clerk persisted and filed the complaint. However, when the clerk contacted the Eighth Circuit Clerk of Court’s Office to confirm receipt, someone in the office disgracefully persuaded the law clerk to withdraw the complaint. The justification was that the complaint would likely be dismissed since the judge was resigning.
To be clear, both the DWR’s actions and those from the Clerk of Court’s Office appear to constitute obstruction of justice. Court personnel should not weigh in on the adequacy of a judicial misconduct complaint; that decision rests with the chief judge. These shocking behaviors by federal judiciary employees undermine their public portrayal of the courts as committed to the fair and impartial administration of justice. It may be counterintuitive for some lawyers and law professors who maintain that the courts will ultimately protect them, but the reality is that judges and their defenders often hold themselves to the lowest ethical standards rather than the highest. As someone who frequently confronts the dissonance between the judiciary’s public messaging and its private conduct, I was outraged yet unsurprised to learn of this latest attempt to manipulate a vulnerable law clerk.
Such actions would be reprehensible if they were isolated incidents. However, this is just another instance within a continuous pattern of misconduct. Clerks routinely inform me that they are discouraged by DWRs, circuit executives, and other judiciary officials from filing both EDR and JC&D Act complaints. Some clerks have even been pressured to withdraw their complaints under the threat of job loss.
Given these alarming revelations, we must scrutinize the federal judiciary’s 2024 JC&D complaint statistics (which show only two complaints from clerks and permanent court staff) and the EDR report (which revealed merely seven complaints from clerks over a two-year span) with skepticism. This is how the federal judiciary maintains low misconduct data and misleads the public—by dissuading clerks from filing complaints and pressuring them to retract those already submitted, while providing misleading counsel regarding the likelihood of success in the complaint process—all while threatening clerks with job loss if they dare to speak out. The judiciary employs all means necessary to chill complaints, effectively immunizing judges from scrutiny.
Contrary to the AO director’s dubious assertions that these disturbingly low figures suggest a lack of misconduct within the judiciary, these low numbers likely result from the AO’s own obstruction and misconduct, aimed at misleading the public, lawyers, and lawmakers, and to artificially deflate their publicly reported data. If the AO were to gather and publicly disclose accurate data on the actual occurrence of judicial misconduct—data which they possess from an internal workplace survey that they refuse to make public—lawmakers might demand external oversight and question some AO administrators before Congress.
Tanabe’s resignation amidst misconduct allegations marks the most significant judiciary scandal since Kindred’s departure. The resignation of two judges under misconduct allegations within a year is noteworthy, as judges rarely resign, often serving until their deaths, well beyond their effective capacity to fulfill their roles. If you believe Tanabe and Kindred are merely “bad apples,” consider this: if Tanabe were indeed an isolated case, why wouldn’t the federal judiciary utilize this moment to demonstrate their renewed commitment to transparency and accountability by disciplining her? Such action would send a clear message to the legal profession that they take these issues seriously, showcasing that their internal governance mechanisms function adequately without the need for external congressional oversight.
I suspect that the Eighth Circuit is attempting to suppress this situation because they recognize—or at least suspect but prefer not to acknowledge—that they are facing a broader issue. The Tanabe case is not an isolated occurrence within this court; rather, it is part of a troubling pattern of misconduct. Federal judge Wilhelmina Wright also managed to retire quietly under similar circumstances and allegations just one year earlier.
This situation represents merely the surface of a much larger issue within the federal courts. If every mistreated clerk I’ve interacted with had filed a complaint, and if the judiciary promptly and thoroughly investigated each one, they would be overwhelmed with complaints, leaving little time to fulfill their essential judicial duties! Tragically, the judiciary benefits from the silence and fear of clerks.
Tanabe is slated to resign on March 31, 2025. She remains on the bench. The Eighth Circuit should reject Tanabe’s resignation and initiate a JC&D investigation into her alleged misconduct. The judiciary has the authority to take disciplinary action against Tanabe immediately, and they should. Such action would convey a much-needed message: wrongdoing on the bench will not be overlooked, and the judiciary’s professed commitment to maintaining ethical standards is more than mere rhetoric. However, at this juncture, it appears that her resignation will be accepted and the matter swept under the rug.
It is also crucial to remember that Congress possesses the power to enact reforms. Legislation such as the Judiciary Accountability Act (JAA) could extend federal antidiscrimination protections to over 30,000 exempt federal judiciary employees and revise the complaint process, allowing investigations to continue even after judges resign. Congress extended these protections to itself and the executive branch back in 1995; there is no justification for judges to remain in an ethical blind spot. Yet, lawmakers have not seized the opportunity to investigate this particular situation, hold hearings, or demand improvements from the judiciary.
This presents a rare bipartisan chance to address a historically persistent issue. However, I have been disheartened, after discussing this matter with several congressional offices, to find that the issue of judicial accountability has fallen on deaf ears. The more than 30,000 judiciary employees who are integral to the smooth operation of our courts nationwide—yet lack basic workplace protections—deserve better. Members of Congress could send a letter to the AO and the Eighth Circuit urging them to reject Tanabe’s resignation and impose appropriate disciplinary measures. The House and Senate Judiciary Committees could reintroduce the JAA, and Senate Judiciary Chairman Chuck Grassley, whose circuit is implicated here, could conduct a hearing on the matter. At the very least, Congress could introduce legislation to amend the JC&D Act, allowing investigations into judges like Tanabe to continue even after they resign to evade accountability. The solutions are available; the motivation to act is currently lacking.
Judges wield extraordinary power within our governmental framework: they adjudicate matters of profound national significance, including cases related to workplace harassment, even as they themselves remain exempt from the rules that govern most workplaces. Until this imbalance is rectified, clerks will continue to endure silent suffering, fearful of retaliation from life-tenured officials whose influence does not dissipate upon retirement.
Congress should, at the very least, mandate transparent workplace surveys and annual data disclosures as a condition for the judiciary’s appropriations. The military conducts climate surveys; why shouldn’t the judiciary follow suit? Increased transparency would not only help the public grasp the true extent of the problem but also protect the many capable and fair-minded judges who treat their clerks with respect and do not wish to be implicated in any cover-up.
Without such oversight, recent developments in Minnesota may fade from public awareness as the judge departs, leaving the underlying issues intact. The Legal Accountability Project (LAP) regularly hears from clerks, often years after their clerkships have concluded, who continue to fear retribution for speaking out. Change will not materialize until the judiciary’s internal norms prioritize meaningful accountability over quiet resignations. This necessitates Congress taking a firm stance and exercising the authority entrusted to them.
Every day, in courthouses across the nation, judges harass their clerks with impunity, escaping the consequences of their egregious misconduct. Clerks suffer in silence, living in fear of retaliation or retribution even years or decades after their clerkships. I frequently hear about this at LAP, where we have effectively become a refuge for clerks who previously felt unable to confide in anyone about their negative experiences.
It is imperative that lawmakers, lawyers, and even some judges who support LAP behind the scenes advocate for change. The incidents involving Kindred and Tanabe highlight that misconduct on the bench can occur at any time, and it is a serious matter whenever it does. The repercussions can reverberate throughout a clerk’s entire career. With no indication that the judiciary is capable of self-regulation and a plethora of viable reforms readily available, it is time for Congress to step up and safeguard those who serve in the Third Branch. Silence is not neutrality—it is complicity.
Workplace harassment is always unacceptable. However, it becomes even more egregious when perpetrated by life-tenured federal judges—among the most powerful individuals in the federal government—who exploit their authority while adjudicating issues of national importance, including sexual harassment cases, all while remaining exempt from the laws they interpret. It is appalling for the federal judiciary to continue asserting that they foster an “exemplary” workplace while routinely shielding abusive judges from accountability and scrutiny. At this moment, throughout our justice system, there is no justice for judiciary employees. Yet, Congress can—and must—rectify this situation. Because for every Tanabe who resigns once in a blue moon, countless others do not.
Aliza Shatzman is the President and Founder of The Legal Accountability Project, a nonprofit organization dedicated to ensuring that law clerks have positive clerkship experiences while providing support and resources for those who do not. She regularly writes and speaks on issues related to judicial accountability and clerkships. Reach out to her via email at Aliza.Shatzman@legalaccountabilityproject.org and follow her on Twitter @AlizaShatzman.
For more updates on litigation, regulation, deals, and trends in financial services, sign up for Finance Docket, a partnership between Breaking Media publications Above the Law and Dealbreaker.
