Last month, the White House issued Executive Orders imposing penalties on several major law firms. One of those firms, Paul Weiss, agreed to revise its organizational policies and practices in exchange for the White House rescinding its penalties.
A recent survey of nonprofit organizations found the majority feel their work has been negatively affected by the current political climate with many wondering if their field will be faced with the same kind of threats as those levied against law firms.
Amid these growing concerns, I’ve observed a rise in calls for solidarity—though among whom and for what purpose is not always clear.
Solidarity can mean different things. The Anglican priest Rowan Williams describes it as “an ideal, a moral imperative, and also a statement of what is the case.”
Practically speaking, solidarity can fuel collective action and inspire short-term sacrifices in pursuit of meaningful long-term goals. Banding together can make us stronger.
There’s also a spiritual dimension to solidarity. It is grounded in the belief in each person’s irreducible and equal value. In Catholic social thought, solidarity reflects the intrinsic nature of humanity—social, communal, and capable of self-giving.
If human connectedness and commonality are more true than individualism and instrumentalism - a “statement of what is the case” - then solidarity can help us see reality more clearly—or, at the very least, see it in new ways. As such, it is also an essential component of good strategy, which depends on clear-sightedness.
Paul Weiss’ chairman defended the firm’s concessions by saying, “we did exactly what we advise our clients to do in ‘bet-the-company’ litigation every day.” In other words, he viewed the situation as akin to corporate litigation—one firm against another. But some observers saw it differently: as law firms being asked to abandon profession-wide ethical obligations. Through this lens, Paul Weiss failed to see itself as part of a larger whole—a community of practice and, ultimately, a political community. Its decision may offer short-term protection for the firm, but at the cost of long-term loss for the legal system.
Solidarity—or its absence—is not cultivated overnight. Reporting on the Paul Weiss situation suggests that a decades-long culture of intense competition among law firms contributed to the firm’s sense of vulnerability and unwillingness to challenge the government’s order.
For coalitions and civic groups seeking to build solidarity, it’s important to develop habits that nurture it before it becomes a strategic necessity.
Incorporate habits of mutuality and shared responsibility in coalition work. This means members receive benefits from being part of the coalition but are also expected, at times, to contribute in return.
Distinguish solidarity from sameness. Solidarity can—and should—grow from mutual recognition between people who are quite different from one another.
Develop stories of collective identity (“stories of us”). What histories, shared struggles, values, or aspirations draw your group together? Like all stories, these evolve over time. Who is the relevant “us” in this moment? What values, histories, and aspirations matter now?
Prepare for the sacrifice that solidarity can involve. If there are potential short-term losses on the horizon, on whom might the cost or sacrifice fall? Are there ways to protect them? Are systems of mutual support in place?
In hope,
Rachel