The ABA Must Convince Most Lawyers to Join to Regain Influence

“What’s in it for me?” I’ve lost count how many times I’ve heard some form of that retort from the lips of a US lawyer when discussing the American Bar Association, the oldest voluntary association of lawyers in the world.

Despite its nearly 400,000 members, the ABA’s rolls haven’t included a majority of America’s current lawyers since 1979. Over the past half century, a combination of societal trends have contributed to the decline. Americans now join fewer organizations, and fewer law firms now pay ABA membership fees.

And then there are changes the ABA has made, such as taking a stand in favor of abortion rights in 1990, and more recently speaking out on topical issues that some see as political.

Still, the ABA has had an outsize role in the life of lawyers and rule of law since its 19th century founding. Most of the US’s 1.3 million lawyers couldn’t even become lawyers without the organization; 46 states require graduation from an ABA-accredited school for bar admission.

Nonetheless, conservative voices call for its influence over legal education be reduced. The Texas Supreme Court tentatively decided Sept. 26 that the ABA should no longer decide which Texas law schools can send graduates to sit for the bar exam. Florida and Ohio are also considering cutting ties with the ABA.

In other words, a “business as usual” mindset will likely not only lead to further shrinking of its membership rolls, but also without sober self-examination, a real commitment to challenge “status quo” thinking and robust willingness to make hard choices, the ABA’s influence within the legal profession and beyond will further contract.

Since its 1878 charter, which remains largely intact, the ABA’s primary purpose is “to be the national representative of the legal profession, serving the public and the profession by promoting justice, professional excellence and respect for the law.” A lot has changed over the years, but the ABA is still primarily in the business of “promoting justice.”

The past eight months, since the start of the Trump administration, haven’t been easy. The administration referred to the ABA as “snooty, leftist lawyers” after it condemned “inappropriate” attacks on judges by Trump administration officials.

Federal Trade Commission Chairman Andrew Ferguson and the Department of Justice have announced policies to bar political appointees from holding ABA leadership roles, participating in ABA events, or renewing their ABA memberships. The administration also has stripped the organization from its role in evaluating federal judges, something it has done since 1953.

Following a string of attacks on law firms, the ABA in June sued the Trump administration, asking a federal court to declare unconstitutional the administration’s policy of lawyer and law firm intimidation. And in another suit, the ABA sued the federal government over revocation of approximately $3.2 million in grant funding.

Against this backdrop, the organization’s over $220 million operating budget suffers from an outsize dependence on dues and grants.

Even so, the ABA has attempted to meet this moment. Beyond litigation, immediate past president Bill Bay and other ABA leaders post regularly on LinkedIn and other social media, publish editorials, and meet with members of Congress and other stakeholders.

But was it enough? Is this what lawyers want? What’s in it for non-ABA members that will compel them to pay attention to, rely on, root for, and otherwise support the association’s work in 2025 and beyond?

Though I no longer practice law, I’m animated by these questions. Not only have I been an ABA member for almost 40 years, but I served in its policy making body, the House of Delegates, a quarter century, and on its board of governors.

I love the ABA and still volunteer occasionally in support of its goals, but I also have enough emotional and professional distance to offer a clear-eyed assessment.

The ABA is slow to change, and it’s invested in the status quo. The law profession is similar in its resistance to upheaval—there are relatively few entrepreneurs, risk takers, iconoclasts, and dreamers who both become and remain lawyers.

The ABA already knows the stakes and that it must change. No institution can withstand structural and financial deficits in perpetuity. So in 2025 and beyond, how does this organization best explain why it matters?

First, let’s acknowledge that we are societally more selfish, tribal, and insular. This makes the ABA’s work harder. Far more people are “bowling alone” than when Robert D. Putnam wrote his seminal book about social shifts away from community in 2000. In 2025, Americans “join” less and are far more prone to look at their screens.

Across my time as an ABA member, I’ve defined “what’s in it for me” differently during my career. As a military officer and assistant US attorney, I found a forum where I could engage with lawyers in every state and beyond.

I met people practicing beyond the niches I found myself in—administrative law, treaty work, and later, federal criminal law—and at various stages in their careers. As a young lawyer, this translated into connecting with people who became mentors, widening my perspective of what was possible after government service.

As a Big Law partner, I found a source of business. As an in-house lawyer, I hired some outside counsel from networks forged through decades of membership. I’m retired from practice but still care about the profession and want to give back—and the ABA provides ways for me to do so.

Beyond the personal benefit to lawyers, the ABA works tirelessly to be the national representative of the profession. The leadership understands the direct relationship among protecting lawyers and judges, protecting our Constitution, and protecting our democratic republic.

Sitting as an observer to its House of Delegates at the most recent annual meeting, I was impressed by a bevy of resolutions passed that seek to preserve due process, protect judges, strengthen voting rights, and support regulations that protect the public.

Because I believe the US needs the ABA, I urge the organization to follow two tracks.

It must get its internal house in better order. It has a strategic plan that calls for reducing redundancy, implementing efficiency, diversifying revenue sources, and having the courage to make hard choices. Its newly elected president, Michelle Behnke, is a former ABA treasurer and a strong advocate for this work.

But getting its house in order isn’t enough. The ABA’s value proposition resides in its national voice, which will be strengthened when most attorneys join its ranks.

How does it get from 400,000 today to a future 650,000? It must answer “what’s in it for me” and spread that message to all attorneys—particularly for the 75% of all firms with fewer than six attorneys.

If the ABA does both well, it will be stronger.

US Army Airborne veteran Paula Boggs is now a musician, speaker, and writer after serving a decade as Starbucks Corporation’s chief legal officer.