California has decided it’s time to civilise the courtroom—the state will soon ask every lawyer on its rolls to pause once a year, take a breath, and vow not to behave like an overcaffeinated courtroom gladiator. Beginning in 2026, attorneys must annually pledge to conduct themselves with dignity, courtesy, and integrity. A small promise, perhaps, but one that aims to sand down the sharper edges of a profession famous for weaponising words.
For decades, the legal world has tried to wrestle with its own tone problem. The cinematic “pit bull” litigator may be thrilling on screen, but in real life, academics and judges warn that such hostility corrodes the profession from within—feeding burnout, worsening public distrust, and turning courtrooms into emotional hazard zones.
One retired appellate judge likened incivility to grit in the machinery of justice: it slows everything down and ensures more friction than resolution. California’s new rule—approved by the state’s top court and folded into the annual bar dues ritual—hopes to force at least a moment of reflection before lawyers tear into each other for another year.
This comes against the backdrop of dismal public sentiment. Recent national polling shows that fewer than one in five Americans considers lawyers highly ethical—a figure that trails behind teachers, doctors and even police officers, though it still edges out Congress and car salespeople. Scholars note that hostile behaviour only reinforces these perceptions.
And the hostility isn’t imaginary. Surveys in multiple states show that more than half of lawyers encounter unprofessional behaviour from colleagues within any six-month period. Bullying is far from rare, particularly for women and lawyers from marginalised communities, who report being disproportionately targeted. Some attorneys have even left jobs entirely because the culture became too toxic to tolerate.
Yet the boundary between true misconduct and everyday incivility is murky. While ethical violations can bring discipline, name-calling, refusal to cooperate on scheduling, tactical paper avalanches, and other “hardball” tactics often fall into an unenforceable grey zone. Judges say the line is crossed when the fight shifts from the issue to the individual.
Part of the pressure comes from clients who believe that only a “bulldog” can win. Lawyers who try to be reasonable may be mistaken for weak, setting off a vicious cycle of aggression and counter-aggression.
Calls for change aren’t new. More than three decades ago, a former U.S. Supreme Court justice urged the profession to embrace civility for the sake of the system’s integrity and lawyers’ own sanity. But pledges without consequences haven’t moved the needle much. Only a handful of states allow discipline for uncivil conduct, and California, despite its massive legal population, declined to add such penalties, citing concerns about free speech and ambiguous standards.
Supporters of stronger reform argue that meaningful progress requires actual enforcement—not just another ceremonial vow. Still, California’s annual pledge marks a symbolic shift: a recognition that the profession’s culture needs recalibrating, even if the tools remain imperfect.
Whether this yearly promise will tame the courtroom’s sharper instincts remains to be seen. But at minimum, once a year, every California lawyer will be required to look the idea of civility in the eye—if only briefly—before stepping back into the fray.
