By Robynn Moraites
We all have become increasingly comfortable recognizing and discussing a certain kind of professional distress that the LAP began focusing on in CLE presentations more than a decade ago: compassion fatigue and vicarious (or secondary) trauma leading to burnout. Today, such discussions are commonplace, appearing in firm-wide emails, CLE programming, and bar publications. These concepts are familiar and, in many ways, manageable at the individual level.
Burnout suggests a problem of degree: too many hours, too many cases, too much pressure, not enough awareness of the toll the work is taking, not enough time for real, meaningful restoration and recovery. Solutions are within an individual’s control and reach: recognize what’s happening, rest, implement boundaries, take time off, use evidence-based well-being tools, and so on. But for many lawyers, the burnout label no longer feels complete; those solutions no longer work. Something else is happening. It is less visible, less easily named, and far less responsive to traditional solutions at the individual level.
The problem is not simply that lawyers are exhausted. They are. But the nexus of the problem is based within the system, not the individual. Many lawyers, particularly those in certain practice areas, no longer recognize the work they are doing or the system within which they are doing it. It is not simply about a loss of energy. It is about a loss of meaning.
That condition is better labeled demoralization.
Demoralization does not announce itself in obvious ways. It does not always look like a crisis. In most cases, the lawyer continues to function at a very high level: meeting deadlines, responding to opposing counsel, serving clients. The work gets done. But the internal experience has changed. The work begins to feel fragmented, and the connection between effort and purpose becomes harder to identify. Decisions feel less like reasoned, strategic choices and more like hasty responses to irrational, illogical forces at play (more so than usual). Putting in the hours and sweat equity to, say, research and write a brief for a motion, starts to make little sense to us emotionally when a judge (repeatedly in case after case) does not even glance at our work product. Losing a motion on the merits is one thing. Disregard for the entire process is quite another. Over time, the question emerges, sometimes quietly, sometimes with more urgency:
What is the point of this?
That question is not resolved by time off. Burnout remains part of the picture, but it is not the same thing. Burnout is rooted in depletion. It arises from sustained stress and overextension. Given sufficient time to recover or a meaningful change in workload, it can improve.
Demoralization reflects something different. It involves a breakdown in three core elements of professional life: meaning, agency, and orientation/direction. Meaning concerns whether the work feels purposeful. Agency concerns whether one has the ability to influence outcomes. Orientation concerns whether there is a clear sense of direction, i.e., where the work is going and why. When those elements erode, although exhausting, the experience is not simply fatigue. It is a loss of coherence.
It is also important to distinguish demoralization from other conditions that are often part of the same conversation. Depression is a clinical disorder, typically involving persistent low mood, loss of interest, and impaired functioning across multiple areas of life. It is not limited to the workplace. Demoralization, by contrast, is more situational as it is tied to meaning and environment. It can exist even when a lawyer is otherwise functioning well.
A lawyer can feel demoralized without being clinically depressed. A lawyer can recover from burnout and still feel demoralized. These distinctions matter because the appropriate response differs. Treating demoralization as if it were burnout or depression can lead to interventions that miss the underlying issue. When experiencing anything like this, it is important to seek professional help to determine whether it’s demoralization, depression, burnout, or a real need to retire.
Other related concepts arise in this space as well. Moral injury, for example, involves being required to act in ways that conflict with deeply held values. That experience is not uncommon in legal practice (stay tuned for a future article on this topic). Demoralization can overlap with it, but it is broader. Demoralization reflects not only moments of conflict, but a sustained erosion of meaning over time.
There is an emerging pattern lawyer assistance programs (LAPs) across the country are seeing more frequently as demoralization emerges as a growing issue of concern. Lawyers suffering from demoralization feel a strong pull to make a change—leave a job, switch practice areas, or even exit the profession—without a clear understanding of what is actually driving that impulse.
The urge to make a change is often real and valid, but when it is rooted in demoralization rather than something more concrete, changing the external circumstances alone may not resolve the underlying issue. Without identifying the loss of meaning, agency, or direction, lawyers risk recreating the same experience in a different setting.
The structure of modern legal practice creates conditions in which demoralization can develop. Today’s hyper-politically-polarized legal environment is exacerbating the problem. LAPs across the nation are starting to see the effects.
Many lawyers enter the profession with a clear sense of purpose. They expect to engage with systems of justice, to solve problems, and to help people navigate difficult circumstances. Those expectations are not naïve. They are part of how the profession defines itself. The day-to-day reality, however, can look very different.
Demoralization impacts meaning in various ways. The work is shaped by economic pressures, institutional demands, and procedural requirements that leave limited room for discretion. Outcomes are not always aligned with fairness, and effort is not always connected to impact. The system functions but not always in ways that feel meaningful to those working within it.
At the same time, the broader legal and political environment has become more unsettled and volatile. Public mistrust in institutions is high. The legal system is being politically weaponized. Lawyers and judges are asked to operate within that tension while maintaining professional obligations that do not always align neatly with public expectations.
Demoralization also impacts agency and orientation. Lawyers are trained to influence outcomes. But much of practice involves operating within systems where control is limited by clients, courts, and economics. Clients dictate objectives. Courts dictate timelines. Economic models dictate how time is spent and valued. Lawyers often feel like they are not directing the work; they are merely responding to all these external forces. It can lead to a sense of being carried along by the system rather than participating in it or influencing it. The culture of the profession can make this difficult to recognize.
Added to that, lawyers are accustomed to managing pressure quite well. We are experts in doubling down: adapt, persist, and trudge on with grim determination (maybe bring a bigger hammer). Distress is often framed as an individual issue rather than a reflection of broader conditions within the profession. As a result, demoralization is frequently mislabeled. The response is to reduce stress, to take time off, to improve coping strategies. These strategies can help a little but only at the margins. They do not restore meaning, increase agency, or provide orientation or direction.
We don’t have to allow working in a broken system to break us. We can thrive even in a broken system, first by recognizing it is a systemic issue and not a failure or inadequacy on our part. It is important to acknowledge that feeling demoralized is not a failure of resilience. As Lindsey Godwin, PhD, observed: “Resilience shouldn’t mean ‘cope with anything, no matter how unfair or unsustainable.’ It should mean having the capacity to recover from something hard—not bounce indefinitely inside something hard.” Feeling demoralized is a response to sustained misalignment between values, work, and environment.
So, once recognized, what do we do about this? None of these suggestions are offered as quick fixes or magic-bullet solutions, but as ways to begin restoring the fundamental elements that demoralization erodes.
One approach is to focus on what remains within reach. In a system that feels too large or too political to influence, we can shift our attention to smaller areas where judgment still matters—a client interaction, a strategic decision, a moment where we can still exercise professional discretion. Acknowledge and affirm how you make a difference, or want to make a difference moving forward, despite the system. It can be big or small. Ideas may range from how you prepare for litigation to how you mentor young lawyers.
Shift your attention more to process than outcomes. This suggestion is difficult because lawyers are all about the outcome. But measuring outcomes in a broken system can be self-defeating and a major contributor to feeling demoralized. Try to see meaning in doing your best and shift your focus to recognizing you do a good job by helping clients. Reframing how we view things, e.g., “Nothing I do makes a difference,” to “Everything I do makes a difference for this one client” can go a long way to restoring agency. Agency does not have to be total to be meaningful; it just has to be present.
Another approach is to reconnect with our values in concrete ways. A sense of purpose comes from our values and what we find meaningful, not the specific work we do. The work we do is how we express our values. When we have purpose, it increases our capacity to make a greater impact. Professional maturity includes redefining values in our work. What brought us a sense of purpose and meaning early on may have shifted based on our career trajectory, professional development or even changes in our personal life. Sometimes it isn’t that we have lost our meaning/purpose, but that we haven’t recognized or acknowledged that it has shifted.
Or it may be that the work continues to reflect meaning, and that our values have not shifted at all, but we feel unable to make a change out of a sense of obligation, even though the work is taking a very serious toll on us emotionally. Especially when there is a strong sense of purpose there can also be a concurrent sense of, “if I don’t do this work, who will?” The positives may outweigh the negatives for quite some time. Early on, we are intrinsically rewarded precisely because we are helping people navigate a broken system. But there may come a time when the scales start to tip, and the negatives begin to outweigh the positives, leading to the decision that working within the broken system is no longer healthy. Staying stuck out of a sense of obligation can cloud our judgment when it comes to self-care. We may lose sight of the need to take care of ourselves first and foremost. We’d do well to remember that our best work occurs when we are taking care of ourselves.
If you are working in an area of law that does not feel purposeful or align with your values, consider taking on work that aligns more directly with them. For example, we might consider taking on a pro bono matter in a value-aligned area of law, teaching a law school class, or volunteering to research an area of law for a national organization we support. Meaningful work is typically found here and there, in bits and pieces, so we have to be intentional about noticing and appreciating these instances when they occur. The goal is not wholesale change but to reintroduce elements of meaning that have been lost along the way.
While less obvious, we also need to restore orientation where we can. Demoralization tends to compress time into a series of immediate demands and responses with no clear trajectory. Re-establishing a longer view through career (or retirement) planning and thoughtful, deliberate career decisions can reintroduce a sense of direction.
Connection matters as well. Demoralization is an isolating experience. When we are demoralized, we have the sense that others are managing better and that this is an individual problem. The old, why-can’t-I-hack-it thought cycle may ramp up. In reality, many lawyers and judges are navigating similar tensions. Creating space for candid conversation, whether within firms or among peers, can reduce that isolation and make the experience more manageable.
When we make connections for support, collaboration, or to share ideas for change (within ourselves and within the system), be sure it is for the purpose of helping keep you motivated and engaged. Be careful not to fall into the misery-loves-company trap by connecting with others who may only be interested in complaining.
None of these interventions are dramatic. Demoralization does not arise from a single event, and it is not resolved by a single intervention. Demoralization develops gradually, through repeated disconnections between effort and meaning. Addressing it requires equally gradual efforts to reconnect those elements. We must be intentional regardless of what we do or how we approach this. There are also implications beyond the individual lawyer.
When large numbers of lawyers report a loss of meaning and agency, the issue cannot be understood solely as personal. It raises questions about how the profession is structured, what it rewards, and how it defines success. Those questions are not easily resolved. But they are increasingly difficult to ignore.
Burnout remains part of the conversation. Lawyers work hard, often under sustained pressure, and exhaustion is real. Demoralization points to something else. It asks whether the work, as currently structured, continues to make sense to the people doing it. It asks whether the connection between effort and purpose can still be maintained. Those are not questions that can be answered with time off alone. They require attention to the work itself, to the systems in which it is performed, and to the reasons lawyers entered the profession in the first place.