For weeks, President Donald Trump has unleashed a barrage of executive orders and memos aimed squarely at major law firms, a campaign that has sent shockwaves through the legal community. These actions—suspending security clearances, canceling government contracts, barring employees from federal buildings, and threatening further punitive measures—have disrupted the ability of these firms to represent their clients effectively. Trump has justified his moves by accusing the firms of employing "very dishonest people," but legal experts see a different motive: retaliation against those who have represented his political adversaries or crossed him in court.
The scope of Trump’s offensive is unprecedented. Firms like Perkins Coie, Paul Weiss, and Covington & Burling have found themselves in the crosshairs, targeted for their associations with figures like Hillary Clinton, former Special Counsel Jack Smith, or attorneys who have prosecuted cases against the president. One executive order, for instance, stripped security clearances from Perkins Coie lawyers, a move later challenged in court as potentially unconstitutional. Another directive ordered Attorney General Pam Bondi to flag "frivolous" lawsuits against the administration, paving the way for sanctions against offending firms. Legal scholars have called this an authoritarian overreach, likening it to the McCarthy-era purges of the 1940s—albeit with a modern, personal vendetta twist.
The response from Big Law has been mixed, revealing a community grappling with fear and division. Paul Weiss, a titan of the legal world, struck a controversial deal with Trump to avoid the fallout of an executive order. The firm agreed to provide $40 million in pro bono work aligned with the administration’s agenda and to reevaluate its diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) practices—concessions that Chairman Brad Karp defended as necessary to protect the firm from being "destroyed." Critics, however, decried it as capitulation, with some lawyers taking to social media to label it "spineless" and a betrayal of the profession’s independence.
Not all firms have bent the knee. The Elias Law Group, for example, pushed back defiantly after being named in a White House memo, with its leadership vowing not to alter its client roster despite the threats. Meanwhile, individual voices of resistance have emerged. Rachel Cohen, a Harvard-trained attorney, made headlines by resigning from Skadden, Arps, Slate, Meagher & Flom in protest, accusing Big Law of failing to stand up to Trump’s intimidation tactics. In a public letter joined by over 300 attorneys, Cohen urged firms to defend the rule of law, warning that rolling over could embolden further attacks.
The stakes are high. Trump’s actions threaten not just the business models of these firms—many of which rely on federal contracts and clearances—but the broader integrity of the legal system. "If law firms are cowed into not bringing the cases that matter most, that could be another step in dismantling democracy," wrote one commentator on MSNBC. Legal experts like Daniel Richman, a Columbia law professor, see a clear intent to intimidate, noting the "vindictiveness" with which Trump has targeted lawyers and judges alike.
As of March 25, 2025, the clash shows no signs of abating. While some firms scramble to adapt or negotiate, others brace for a fight, aware that their response could shape the future of the profession. For now, Big Law stands at a crossroads: resist and risk ruin, or retreat and risk irrelevance. The outcome remains uncertain, but the tremors of Trump’s assault are already reshaping the landscape of American law.