The story of Paul, Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton & Garrison L.L.P., one of the leading law firms in the world, stands out. It employs twelve hundred and fifty lawyers in offices around the globe, and pulls in annual revenues of $2.63 billion, resulting in yearly profits of more than $7.5 million per partner. The firm boasts some of the most accomplished lawyers in the U.S., and has a widely feared litigation practice. It also has a venerable tradition of civil-rights work, including assisting Thurgood Marshall on desegregation cases, in the nineteen-fifties, and representing the plaintiff Edith Windsor in the landmark 2013 Supreme Court case, United States v. Windsor, which struck down as unconstitutional a federal statute defining marriage as solely between a man and a woman.

Trump had it in for Paul, Weiss for several reasons. Jeannie Rhee, who was then a partner at the firm, had worked for Robert Mueller, the former special counsel who investigated possible Russian interference in the 2016 election, and, after the events of January 6th, she took on a pro-bono case against some of the rioters; Mark Pomerantz, a former partner, had helped prosecute Trump in New York courts for falsifying business records; and Trump was angered by the firm’s D.E.I. employment practices. On March 14th, he issued an executive order that cited these alleged sins and directed federal agencies to review any security clearances previously granted to Paul, Weiss attorneys, to restrict their access to federal buildings, and to potentially terminate government contracts with the firm. Around the same time, Trump issued executive orders against a variety of other firms because he disliked lawyers who worked for them or clients they represented, or both. The executive order against the law firm Perkins Coie L.L.P., for example, cited its representation of Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign.

The consequences of these orders could be devastating to a firm like Paul, Weiss. If its lawyers were unable to enter federal buildings or courthouses, representation of clients before federal courts and agencies would become impossible. The firm’s work with multinational corporations seeking licenses and permits before government agencies (such as energy companies requesting development permits or investment companies negotiating with the Securities and Exchange Commission), or even litigating in federal court, could evaporate.

But efforts by the government to punish speakers and speech that it disfavors are blatantly unconstitutional. Any attempt to stop private lawyers from representing the clients they choose is an assault on those lawyers’ basic right to practice law, and a clear infringement of their and their firms’ First Amendment rights. And going after firms because the Administration has a grudge against a specific lawyer who works there is unprecedented, and represents a crude weaponization of executive power. This is not a close constitutional call.

The chair of Paul, Weiss is Brad Karp, who assumed the role at the comparatively young age of forty-eight. He has been described as one of the best litigators in the country, representing some of the largest financial companies in the world in billion-dollar lawsuits. And Karp is not ignorant of the risks posed by threats to the rule of law: he served on the board of trustees of the World Law Foundation, a non-for-profit organization of more than eight thousand U.S. and international lawyers dedicated to “promoting the Rule of Law as a guarantor of freedom and peace, and strengthening democracy and its institutions throughout the world.” The foundation hosts biannual congresses, with panels devoted to discussing recent threats to the rule of law, and awarding honors to lawyers who defend it. Past honorees have included Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Andrew Young, and Nelson Mandela. (I spoke on panels at the congresses in 2023 and 2025, on issues related to press freedoms.)

But, instead of standing up for the rule of law and suing the Administration for its unlawful executive order, Karp and Paul, Weiss settled a mere six days after Trump issued it. That settlement obligated the firm to provide forty million dollars in pro-bono services to “support the Administration’s initiatives,” and to “not adopt, use, or pursue any DEI policies.” Eight other global law firms quickly followed suit, reaching settlements totalling a reported nearly billion dollars in pro-bono services for causes championed by the Administration. And, although all the firms claimed to have retained control over what specific pro-bono work they will do, Trump clearly doesn’t see it that way, suggesting during one Cabinet meeting that he could use the legal work as sort of a personal piggy bank of services even after he leaves office, saying, of the accumulated total, “Hopefully I won’t need that,” he said, “after it ends—after, after we leave. Maybe I’ll need it.”