Shame.

One of the more disappointing realities of practicing law is discovering just how limited the courts can be when it comes to addressing what I believe are serious ethical concerns involving attorneys appearing before them.

I recently experienced this firsthand in a matter where I was personally involved in litigation. The Court issued certain directives. I complied with every single one of them. I made the required payments, satisfied my obligations, and ultimately filed a Stipulation of Discontinuance to bring the matter to a close.

There was just one problem.

Opposing counsel continued to hold money that, in my view, he had absolutely no right to retain. Despite repeated requests for its return, the money remained in his possession.

I brought this to the Court’s attention. More than once.

And the response? Essentially, nothing.

Now, I understand that judges are not disciplinary committees. I understand that courts have limited jurisdiction, procedural constraints, and an obligation to remain impartial. Not every dispute between attorneys is something a judge can or should resolve.

But at what point does judicial restraint become judicial indifference?

That’s the question I keep coming back to.

We operate in a profession governed by an extensive set of ethical rules. Attorneys are reminded constantly of their obligations to clients, adversaries, the courts, and the administration of justice. We are told that honesty, integrity, and professionalism are not optional. They are fundamental to the privilege of practicing law.

Yet I’ve increasingly noticed something troubling: the rules seem to matter most when the alleged misconduct directly affects the Court.

Miss a deadline. Disobey a court order. Fail to appear. Make a misrepresentation to a judge. Those are matters that can provoke immediate judicial attention.

But raise a concern about an attorney improperly retaining money, behaving unethically toward an adversary, or refusing to cooperate in concluding litigation, and suddenly the judicial system can become remarkably passive.

The answer seems to be that there are other remedies available. File a grievance. Commence another proceeding. Seek relief elsewhere.

In other words, more litigation. More time. More expense. More frustration.

All to address conduct that arose in litigation already before the Court.

I find that profoundly disappointing.

Perhaps the most frustrating aspect is the imbalance. When a court directs me to do something, I am expected to comply. And I do. But when I bring to that same court’s attention conduct by an adversary that I believe violates the most basic expectations of our profession, I am left wondering why the system seems so reluctant to engage.

Professional responsibility should not depend upon whether the misconduct inconveniences a judge.

To be clear, I’m not suggesting that every allegation of unethical behavior should result in judicial intervention, much less sanctions. Allegations must be supported by evidence, and attorneys are entitled to a fair opportunity to respond. Nor does every disagreement over money amount to an ethical violation.

But there should be some meaningful mechanism for addressing legitimate concerns without requiring parties to begin an entirely new battle.

The legal system demands respect from the people who participate in it. And rightfully so. But respect is a two-way street. It is difficult to maintain confidence in a system that insists upon strict compliance with its own directives while appearing unwilling to address serious concerns about the conduct of the professionals operating within it.

I still believe deeply in the rule of law. I believe in the importance of courts, judicial independence, and the ethical obligations that distinguish our profession.

But believing in those principles doesn’t mean pretending the system always lives up to them.

Sometimes the greatest disappointment comes not from losing a case, receiving an unfavorable ruling, or encountering an unreasonable adversary.

Sometimes it comes from doing everything you’re supposed to do, following every rule, complying with every directive, and discovering that the institution charged with administering justice has remarkably little interest in helping you obtain it.

And perhaps that’s what troubles me most.

We spend so much time teaching attorneys to respect the courts. Maybe we should spend a little more time asking whether the courts are doing enough to earn that respect.