Thursday, October 30, 2025

It's Time for Higher Education to Reclaim Academic Freedom

Author's Note:  I wrote this piece before reading this opinion published in August by Inside Higher Education, It’s Been More Than 50 Years Since the AAUPRevised Its Statement on Academic Freedom. Although the author and I are on almost the same page regarding what needs to be done, I believe that the entire academy needs to come together to reclaim acadmic freedom and preserve self-governance just as they did 50 plus years ago.  The 1940 statement wasn't developed by or endorsed by the AAUP alone. And, a 2025 statement shouldn't be either.

It’s Time for Higher Education to Reclaim Academic Freedom

The institutions that defined academic freedom in 1940 must come together again to protect it in 2025.

In 1940, the American Association of University Professors (AAUP) and the Association of American Colleges (AAC, now the AAC&U) met in Washington, D.C., to finalize what became the Statement of Principles on Academic Freedom and Tenure. The Statement was the product of 25 years of organized, principled debate among higher education leaders who understood that universities cannot serve democracy unless they are free to pursue truth without interference.

The Statement became the foundation for faculty contracts and institutional policy nationwide. It defined the balance between individual inquiry and institutional authority. It articulated why tenure exists, not as a lifetime benefit, but as a structural guarantee that knowledge could be pursued and taught without fear of reprisal.

A legacy of self-governance

The lineage of the 1940 Statement begins in 1915, when John Dewey, the first president of the AAUP, appointed the Committee on Academic Freedom and Tenure. They wrote the 1915 Declaration of Principles on Academic Freedom and Tenure. The message was radical for its time: professors were not employees in service to trustees or donors but members of a learned profession, accountable to scholarly standards rather than political or financial pressure.

A decade later, in 1925, the American Council on Education (ACE) convened a Washington conference to translate that vision into a more concise, practical statement. The 1925 Conference Statement on Academic Freedom and Tenure bridged the gap between ideals and governance.

Between 1934 and 1940, the AAUP and the AAC held joint conferences to reconcile the 1915 and 1925 texts. The final 1940 version defined academic freedom in teaching, research, and extramural speech and made tenure its essential safeguard. It was an act of professional self-governance: a declaration that academic freedom was too vital to be left to courts, politicians, or donors.

That independence gave the 1940 Statement its authority. It was not imposed by government or negotiated through litigation. It reflected the conviction that the academy could govern itself according to principles of reason, evidence, and professional duty. It provided the foundation on which the U.S. Supreme Court rested its landmark McCarthy-era decisions protecting academic freedom and prohibiting government-mandated loyalty oaths for professors.

The challenge of 2025

Eighty-five years later, higher education faces a new test of that independence. The Trump Administration’s proposed Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education seeks to bind universities to federal conditions in the name of free speech. Beneath the language of “protection,” the Compact redefines academic freedom as compliance—requiring institutions to certify adherence to political criteria for funding eligibility

The danger is the shift in power the Compact implies. If Washington becomes the arbiter of academic freedom, the academy ceases to be self-governing. The lesson of 1940 is that freedom in scholarship depends not on political favor but on professional integrity and shared standards.

That integrity is now under siege from multiple directions. Legislatures attempt to dictate curricula. Donors fund research that reflects ideology more than inquiry. Online harassment campaigns intimidate faculty. University administrators often act instead as risk managers, weighing reputational or financial exposure over principle.

Academic freedom no longer erodes in sudden purges. It dissolves through compliance, silence, and convenience.

The case for a new statement

While the AAC&U and Phi Beta Kappa have issued Higher Education’s Compact with America and ACE and others have opposed the Trump Compact, what is needed is a comprehensive commitment and concerted action by the broadest constituency possible to restore trust in the academy and with the public. The ACE, the AAC&U, and the AAUP should convene a joint conference to draft a 2025 Statement of Principles on Academic Freedom, Tenure, and Public Responsibility inviting participation from the full range of the academy’s institutions and constituencies.

A modern statement must:
1. Reaffirm academic freedom as a professional right grounded in scholarly expertise, not political allegiance.
2. Recommit institutions to the protection of free expression in laboratories, classrooms and on campus within the bounds of evidence and discipline, and without regard to political favor or cause

3. Define tenure as a commitment to integrity and public trust, not job security.

4. Address new threats—digital surveillance, contingent labor, and algorithmic control of speech—that the 1940 authors could not have foreseen.

 

Such a statement would not merely restate old principles. It would reassert that the academy remains capable of governing itself. The legitimacy of higher education depends on that capacity—and on the courage to exercise it.

The architects of the 1940 Statement faced political pressure, financial vulnerability, and deep internal division. Yet they reached agreement because they understood what was at stake: the moral authority of truth. That same responsibility now rests with today’s academic leaders. If ACE, the AAC&U, and the AAUP do not take it up, politicians, donors, and bureaucrats will gladly take it from them.

**Author Bio:**  Claire Guthrie Gastañaga is a former Chief Deputy Attorney General of Virginia responsible for legal services to Virginia colleges, a Fellow in Higher Education Law recognized by the National Association of College and University Attorneys and former interim president of Chatham College (now University).

Monday, October 20, 2025

The Virginia AG is NOT Virginia's "Top Prosecutor" or "Chief Law Enforcement Officer"

Okay, one more time for those in the media or voters who've been compelled to watch too many campaign commercials.

As a matter of law (and fact), the Virginia Attorney General (AG) is neither the “top prosecutor” nor “the chief law enforcement officer” in Virginia.

The Virginia constitution says nothing about the AG’s duties except that they shall be prescribed by law. No where in the Constitution or the Code is the AG characterized as a part of law enforcement, much less, the “chief law enforcement officer.”

As I point out in this blog post (which I wrote first in 2005 and updated in 2024 in anticipation of this election cycle), the Virginia AG has lots of responsibilities. The first is that the AG is an executive branch official who is the “chief executive officer of the Department of Law.” 

The AG is the general counsel for the Commonwealth of Virginia charged with providing all legal services to state agencies in civil matters, and the Commonwealth in all federal matters.  The AG is responsible for protecting the people’s interest in charities. The AG is the consumer counsel, and a quasi-judicial officer when they issue opinions,  In 2020, the AG was given responsibility to investigate and prosecute police misconduct.

Regarding criminal prosecutorial authority, however, the Virginia Code says this: “A. Unless specifically requested by the Governor to do so, the Attorney General shall have no authority to institute or conduct criminal prosecutions in the circuit courts of the Commonwealth except in [certain specified] cases."  ...   “In all other criminal cases in the circuit courts, except where the law provides otherwise, the authority of the Attorney General to appear or participate in the proceedings shall attach when the appellate court receives the record after a notice of appeal has been filed with the clerk of the circuit court noting an appeal to the Court of Appeals or the Supreme Court.”   

So, although the AG does have some prosecutorial authority by statute (e.g., prosecuting the unlicensed practice of law, fraud or theft of state property, some complex computer crimes, some environmental crimes), the Commonwealth’s Attorneys are the constitutional officers who are the state’s primary prosecutors.  

A person cannot be said to be the Commonwealth’s top prosecutor when they have NO constitutional authority to prosecute crimes and only limited prosecutorial authority explicitly given to them by statute. They can't be said to the the Commonwealth's top prosecutor when they have NO oversight of the constitutional officers who are the Commonwealth’s chief prosecutors. They can't be said to be the Commonwealth's "chief law enforcement officer," when, unlike Commonwealth's Attorneys who, are by statute defined as being part of “the department of law enforcement of the county or city in which he is elected or appointed,” the AG has no statutory leadership role or organizational authority over any law enforcement officials.

As a final note, in the past four decades (1986 to 2025), Virginia has had 13 Attorneys General, some elected and some appointed. Six had prosecutorial experience before taking office, seven did not.  For the record, the six with prosecutorial experience before taking office were: Mary Sue Terry (D), Jim Gilmore (R), Richard Cullen (R), Jerry Kilgore (R), Bob McDonnell (R), and Jason Miyares (R). The seven without were: Stephen Rosenthal (I), Mark Earley (R), Randy Beales (R), Judith Jagdmann (R), Bill Mims (R), Ken Cuccinelli (R), and Mark Herring (D).

Regardless of their personal experience, people running for AG often gravitate to calling themselves titles that enable them to capitalize on “tough on crime” polling data.  Nonetheless, I urge Virginians not to fall for this political gamesmanship. Those touting the so-called prosecutorial “qualification” for those who run for the office of Virginia Attorney General are simply making a play to capitalize on polling data rather than a describing the actual experience a candidate needs to serve as the chief executive officer of the "Commonwealth's law firm" with more than 500 employees and a budget of nearly $60 million. 


Friday, October 17, 2025

40 UVA Law Faculty Oppose Trump's "Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education"

40 members of the Law Faculty of the University of Virginia School of Law (my alma mater) released a letter today opposing Trump's "Compact for Excellence in Higher Education" and urging that the University join MIT, the University of Pennsylvania, Brown University and the University of Southern California in refusing to sign the Compact. Interestingly, the letter was addressed not to the Interim President, Paul Mahoney (a fellow member of the law faculty), but to the University's General Counsel Cliff Iler, an appointee of the current Virginia Attorney General, Jason Miyares. Also interesting is the fact that it has just been announced that Iler will be leaving UVA to be General Counsel of the University of Arizona where he will not be subject to direction by that state's AG. The full text of the letter follows. 

 October 17, 2025 Clifton M. Iler 
The Office of the University Counsel
 Madison Hall P.O. Box 400225
 The University of Virginia 

 Dear Mr. Iler: We are members of the faculty of the University of Virginia School of Law. In recent weeks, many observers, locally and nationally, have expressed objections to the Trump Administration’s “Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education.” Many of us have been asked how we, as law professors, view the Compact constitutionally. We cannot speak for the law school. Rather, we send this letter to you (and other members of the University community) in our individual capacities to express our individual concerns. Nor do we purport to offer an exhaustive legal analysis. We recognize that the Compact could present state and federal statutory and constitutional challenges beyond what we examine here, including but not limited to questions of equal protection. In the interests of brevity, however, we limit the scope of this letter to a discussion of the constitutional issues we consider most pressing—the way in which the Compact (at least in its application) could (i) constitute a coercive exercise of conditional spending and (ii) prove offensive to freedom of speech and association. Ultimately, we are convinced that the Compact, in its totality, chills free expression, free association, and academic freedom in ways that the founder of our university, Thomas Jefferson, would have rejected. Here are our central objections: 

As to conditional spending, the Trump Administration has framed the Compact as an offer, but we worry that it could constitute an unconstitutional threat. The Compact states expressly that if a university were to “develop models and values other than those below,” the federal government would force the university to “forego federal benefits” (including, but not limited to, the cessation of research funding, the denial of access to student loans and grant programs, and the withdrawal of non-profit tax status). To be sure, principles of federalism do permit Congress to attach limited conditions to the monies it allocates. Notably, however, this Compact is not even coming from Congress, but rather from the Trump Administration. But, even if the Compact were a congressional effort, Congress cannot structure its “offer” in a fashion that would, upon rejection, make targets worse off than they are otherwise legally entitled to be. See National Federation of Independent Business v. Sebelius, 567 U.S. 519 (2012). The Compact endeavors to do so by, for instance, threatening to revoke universities’ tax status on grounds other than those prescribed by positive law. 

 Moreover, funding conditions must be unambiguous, prospective, and sufficiently related to the funding project in question. See id. It would be particularly problematic, then, for the Trump administration (again, acting impermissibly in Congress’s stead) to retroactively withhold or withdraw previously allocated funds. And, even as to future funding, the Compact’s conditions are overbroad. There is simply no nexus between the provision of a medical grant to study infectious diseases, for example, and the Compact’s mandated changes to the grading system and tuition policies at the College. As the Supreme Court has suggested, a federal effort that threatens to “terminate . . . significant independent grants” through non-germane, unclear, and far-reaching conditions could convert a permissible form of “mild encouragement” into an unconstitutionally coercive “gun to the head.” Id.; see also South Dakota v. Dole, 483 U.S. 203 (1987). 

 In any event, no public institution, including the University of Virginia, can ever permissibly agree to terms that, by themselves, would compel the institution to violate the Constitution. On this score, there are several aspects of the Compact that are potentially problematic. One of the Compact’s provisions, for instance, would require assenting public universities to maintain a “vibrant marketplace of ideas” in which “no single ideology [is] dominant.” On its face, this might sound inoffensive, because we can all agree that a vibrant marketplace of ideas constitutes a laudable goal. The difficulty is in the execution: a public university might not be able effectively to ensure that “no single ideology” dominates without, in turn, engaging in an impermissible form of speech balancing that could entail constant adjustments to speakers’ access to ensure the preferred ideological equilibrium. To comply, the university would presumably have to continuously audit the speech, ideology, and political affiliations of its community members. This kind of after-the-fact policing of speech produces not a free market, but a content-driven, government-controlled market. We believe that such a manufactured marketplace of ideas would prove noxious to cherished First Amendment values. 

 Of course, just like individuals, universities have their own free association rights and therefore may choose (admirably, we think) to pursue a level of ideological diversity. But they must do so in ways that do not involve viewpoint discrimination. Public universities cannot discipline faculty, staff, or students for exercising personal liberties. They cannot enforce speech codes or ideologically based quotas on admissions or hiring. They cannot control the marketplace of ideas by favoring particular political viewpoints. They cannot select discrete political perspectives to be sheltered from criticism or to be given special access, even in the interest of what the Compact calls “institutional neutrality.” See Pickering v. Board of Education, 391 U.S. 563 (1968) (holding that “a teacher’s exercise of his right to speak on issues of public importance may not furnish the basis for his dismissal from public employment”); cf. Keyishian v. Board of Regents, 385 U.S. 589 (1967) (holding, on due process grounds, that mere party membership, without a specific intent to further illegality, is an unconstitutional basis to terminate a public employee, and reasoning that “safeguarding academic freedom” is a “special concern of the First Amendment”). 

More to the point, there are reasons to worry whether “institutional neutrality” is even the Compact’s aim. After all, the Compact highlights particular beliefs that seemingly demand extraordinary protection. For instance, the Compact identifies “western values” as values to be promoted and “conservative ideas” as ideas that must not be “belittle[d].” If an academic department were to engage in such “belittling” (however construed), the Compact specifies further that it must be shuttered. The import of the condition is this: whenever a particular department happens to attract scholars with non-conservative ideas or non-western values, the department must thereafter (at the threat of elimination) put a thumb on the scales for conservative and/or western thinkers by implementing preferences for the expression of their speech and ideas. 

 Nor is it even apparent how the Department of Education could legally police compliance with the Compact and its compelled ideological balancing. After all, the Federal Privacy Act of 1974, which was enacted by a nearly unanimous Congress, dictates plainly that covered federal agencies shall “maintain no record describing how any individual exercises rights guaranteed by the First Amendment unless expressly authorized by statute or by the individual about whom the record is maintained or unless pertinent to or within the scope of authorized law enforcement activity.” 5 USC 552a(e)(7). An animating concern behind this statutory provision was the fear that federal agencies would otherwise chill free association and speech rights by tracking the beliefs, expressions, and affiliations of individuals. See generally Danielle Keats Citron, A More Perfect Privacy, 104 B.U. L. REV. 1074 (2024) (discussing the Federal Privacy Act and its impetus). To enforce the Compact’s terms, the Department of Education would presumably be forced to illegally collect and maintain such data from universities. How else could the Trump Administration evaluate effectively whether a university had achieved the requisite “institutional neutrality”? 

 Additionally, the Compact singles out for regulation “harassing” or “threatening” speech. To be sure, a public university may constitutionally regulate expression that meets the Constitution’s high bar for unprotected speech acts. See e.g., Counterman v. Colorado, 600 U.S. 66 (2023); Brandenburg v. Ohio, 395 U.S. 444 (1969). But there are reasons to worry that the Compact’s conception of “harassing” and “threatening” speech acts falls within the broad scope of constitutional expression. For example, in the very same provision, the Compact demands that universities impose “conditions of civility.” We can all agree that civility is often (if not always) an attractive feature of social and educational engagement, but state actors are only authorized to compel civility through content-neutral time, place, and manner restrictions. See, e.g., Ward v. Rock Against Racism, 491 U.S. 781 (1989). Given the Compact’s top-down, posthoc emphasis on establishing ideological balance, it is unclear whether the terms of the Compact could ever be satisfied in such a content-neutral manner. 

Finally, it is unclear whether a Compact-compliant university could even constitutionally enjoy the funding and other benefits that the Compact promises. If such a university were to thereafter receive preferential federal treatment, another university (for instance, one that had refused to sign the Compact) would have a strong claim that the federal government was unconstitutionally favoring the expressive actions of the assenting university. In other words, the federal government’s allocation of Compact benefits could, itself, constitute an instance of content-based regulation of expression in violation of the First Amendment. In turn, the university that had bound itself to the Compact would have sacrificed institutional self governance for no realizable tangible advantage. 

 In conclusion, we hope you will follow the lead of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Brown University, the University of Pennsylvania, and the University of Southern California, all of which recently rejected the Compact as a threat to freedom of expression, academic achievement premised upon merit, and independent research and learning. In her letter declining to commit Brown University, President Christina H. Paxson expressed concern that “the Compact by its nature and by various provisions would restrict academic freedom and would undermine the autonomy of [university] governance, critically compromising our ability to fulfill our mission.” We share her sentiments and urge the University of Virginia to take the same course of action—a course of action that is, at once, institutionally wise and constitutionally sound. 

 Sincerely,
 Kenneth S. Abraham David and Mary Harrison Distinguished Professor of Law
Charles Barzun Joel B. Piassick Research Professor of Law 
Andrew Block Professor of Law, General Faculty
Josh Bowers Class of 1963 Research Professor of Law in Honor of Graham C. Lilly and Peter W. Low Darryl K. Brown O. M. Vicars Professor of Law Hunton Andrews Kurth Professor of Law 
Naomi R. Cahn Justice Anthony M. Kennedy Distinguished Professor of Law Armistead M. Dobie Professor of Law 
Jonathan Z. Cannon Blaine T. Phillips Distinguished Professor of Environmental Law Emeritus Danielle Keats Citron Jefferson Scholars Foundation Schenck Distinguished Professor of Law, Martha Lubin Karsh and Bruce A. Karsh Bicentennial Professor of Law 
George M. Cohen Brokaw Professor of Corporate Law 
Kevin Cope Professor of Law 
Anne M. Coughlin Lewis F. Powell, Jr., Professor of Law 
Deirdre M. Enright Professor of Law, General Faculty
Joshua Fischman Albert Clark Tate, Jr., Professor of Law 
Thomas Frampton Professor of Law 
Amanda Frost David Lurton Massee, Jr., Professor of Law
Jennifer L. Givens Professor of Law, General Faculty 
Juliet Hatchett Assistant Professor of Law, General Faculty 
Deborah Hellman Robert E. Scott Distinguished Professor of Law The Honorable Albert V. Bryan Jr. ‘50 Research Professor of Law 
Stanley D. Henderson F. D. G. Ribble Professor of Law Emeritus Walter L. Brown Professor of Law, Roy L. and Rosamond Woodruff Morgan Professor of Law 
A. E. Dick Howard Distinguished Professor of Law and Public Affairs Emeritus
Cathy Hwang Edward F. Howrey Professor of Law
Cale Jaffe Professor of Law, General Faculty
Alex M. Johnson, Jr. James C. Slaughter Distinguished Professor of Law
Annie Kim Assistant Professor of Law, General Faculty
Chinh Q. Le Assistant Professor of Law, General Faculty
Ruth Mason Edwin S. Cohen Distinguished Professor of Law and Taxation
John A. Ewald, Jr., Research Professor of Law
Molly McShane Lecturer of Law
John T. Monahan John S. Shannon Distinguished Professor of Law
Karen Moran Professor of Law, General Faculty
Kelly Orians Assistant Professor of Law, General Faculty
Karoline Homer Ryan Associate Professor of Law, General Faculty
Molly Bishop Shadel Professor of Law, General Faculty
Crystal Shin Professor of Law, General Faculty
Richard Schragger Walter L. Brown Professor of Law, Roy L. and Rosamond Woodruff Morgan
Professor of Law
Sarah Shalf Professor of Law, General Faculty 
Cate Stetson Assistant Professor of Law, General Faculty 
Megan T. Stevenson Henry L. and Grace Doherty Charitable Foundation Professor of Law 
Gregg Strauss Joseph W. Dorn Research Professor of Law 
Leon Szeptycki Professor of Law, General Faculty 
J. H. Verkerke T. Munford Boyd Professor of Law Earle K. Shawe Professor of Employment Law

Monday, June 02, 2025

Virginia State Bar -- A Step Backward in a Time of Crisis

 

Demoting Bar Conferences Undermines Justice, the Legal Profession

Letter to the Editor, Published Virginia Lawyers Weekly, June 2, 2025

A recent decision embodied in an order from the Supreme Court of Virginia concerning the Virginia State Bar (VSB), which it governs, converts the Diversity Conference, Young Lawyers Conference, Senior Lawyers Conference, and the Conference of Local and Specialty Bar Associations to sections effective June 30, 2025. The decision is profoundly disappointing and a setback for equity, inclusion, and access to justice in the Commonwealth. These conferences, which are essential components of a diverse, representative, and responsive legal profession, are now funded directly in the VSB’s annual budget rather than through section dues.  The change in status will mean that the Conferences will be forced to generate their own financial support from section dues (membership in the Conferences is now dues free) and other fundraising (if authorized) rather than receive an “appropriation” from the VSB annual budget to support their programs, like the Diversity Conference’s Annual Forum. The implications of this change are wide-ranging, and none of them bode well for the future of the profession or the public it serves. The only justification contained in the Court’s order was “financial interests of the Virginia State Bar.”

Decision Undermines DEI

The demotion of the conferences to sections sends a clear, albeit troubling, message. The VSB’s Diversity Conference was created to promote equal access to justice, support minority attorneys, and build a legal profession that looks more like the communities it serves.

Funding that mission, and the conferences supporting new, senior, and local lawyers, from the general dues paid by all members of the Virginia bar has reflected a recognition that diversity, mentorship, and local engagement are core values of our profession.

Now, the demotions signal that those values are optional. Optional enough to be placed on the backs of those least able to pay for them. Optional enough to be sustained only if someone is willing to fundraise for them. This is not merely budgetary housekeeping—it is the rollback of the VSB’s commitment to equity, and it cannot be ignored that this comes at a time when “DEI” itself is increasingly politicized and under attack and lawyers are being criticized for not standing up for fundamental rights.

If this were simply about the “financial interests” of the Bar, why target $243,000 in a budget of over $15 million that was allocated to the four conferences—the only Bar entities that directly serve underrepresented attorneys and communities, or that focus on bridging generational and geographic divides in the profession? Why make this decision in a year where the Bar will still have a reserve fund around $4 million even after drawing down a million from the operating reserve? Why not explore other ways of developing additional resources to support the activities of the VSB like seeking legislation to authorize the Bar to raise dues over $250 a year or to create a 501c3 charity free from government limitations and regulations to engage in fundraising specifically to support the Bar’s non-regulatory educational and professional development activities?

A Step Backward in a Time of Crisis

The profession in Virginia is shrinking. Legal deserts—regions of the state where no lawyer practices within an hour’s drive—are growing. Young lawyers face a lack of mentorship, support, and guidance in an increasingly challenging environment. Senior lawyers need pathways to remain engaged, while local and specialty bars provide the kind of tailored programming and community outreach that larger bar entities often cannot. These conferences were not luxuries. They were strategic responses to systemic challenges.

The VSB's own EGADS! (Emerging Gap Areas in the Delivery of Services) initiative identified precisely these issues—declining enrollment, aging membership, and service gaps across Virginia. Yet now, the very conferences most capable of helping address those gaps are left to fend for themselves financially. It is both shortsighted and self-defeating.

Instead of investing in these critical vehicles for renewal and service, the choice has been made to increase the barriers to participation. Instead of helping lawyers connect with the communities in need, it has made community-building a pay-to-play endeavor. The damage will be felt not just within the bar, but across the state—especially in the rural, marginalized, and underserved regions that already suffer from limited access to legal help.

A Failure of Process and Substance

Equally troubling is the opaque way this decision was made. There was no public announcement, no invitation for comment, and no real opportunity for the lawyers of Virginia to weigh in on a change that will fundamentally alter the structure of the organization that they are compelled to join by the state. For a body that demands transparency, due process, and public accountability from its members, the VSB’s handling of this matter fails its own standards.

One must ask: How can members of the bar have confidence in decisions made in silence, without consultation or even warning? How can the public trust a legal profession that quietly disinvests from diversity, mentorship, and community?

Resistance and Rebuilding

Despite this setback, I have no doubt that the spirit of the Diversity Conference and its counterparts remains strong. As noted by Diversity Conference Chair Zaida Cordero Thompson in an email to current conference members, these entities have operated in lean times before. With renewed commitment, they can again—but they should not have to.

Members of the bar should demand the reinstatement of these “sections” as Conferences with budgeted support from the VSB.  If the VSB leadership and the Supreme Court of Virginia are serious about access to justice, then funding the institutions that help deliver it must be a priority. Until that time, we must support these organizations directly, advocate fiercely for transparency in bar governance including open access to proposed and current budget information and reject any action that turns the profession’s commitment to diversity into a discretionary line item.

The mission of justice is not self-funding. It is our collective responsibility. In the words of Justice Sotomayor, “Our job [as lawyers] is to stand up for people who can’t do it themselves.”

Claire G. Gastañaga

Richmond

Claire Guthrie Gastañaga is a former Chief Deputy Attorney General of Virginia and a former member of the Board of Governors of the VSB’s Diversity Conference.

 Update:  Members of the Bar wishing to object to what happened and demand that this decision be revisited can do so by saying so in public comments on the proposed bylaws change now being considered by the Bar Council. Any individual, business, or other entity may submit written comments in support of or in opposition to the proposed action to Cameron M. Rountree, executive director of the Virginia State Bar, by close of business on June 11, 2025. Comments may be submitted via email to publiccomment@vsb.org.