
America’s Judges Are Terrified: Why Everyday Americans Are Losing All Respect for the Bench
The Honorable Patricia D. Morgan, a 30-year veteran of the bench in Cuyahoga County, Ohio, didn't expect to need a security detail to walk into her own courtroom last Tuesday. But when a litigant she had ruled against earlier that morning began screaming, "You're not my judge anymore," before pulling out his phone to livestream her, she realized the unthinkable had happened: The robe no longer commands respect. The gavel has lost its power. And in suburban courthouses across America, judges are now terrified—not of the law, but of the people they are supposed to judge.
This is not an isolated incident. It is a societal collapse in slow motion. From Florida to Oregon, from small-town traffic courts to state supreme courts, the bedrock of American justice—the belief that a judge is a neutral arbiter, worthy of deference and dignity—is being shattered by a wave of open hostility, contempt, and, increasingly, violence. And the most frightening part? Judges are starting to realize they are on their own.
Let’s be clear about what is happening. We are not talking about peaceful protests or legitimate criticism of court rulings. We are talking about a daily, grinding erosion of the most basic social contract between the citizen and the state. In the past year alone, the National Judicial College has reported a 400% increase in threats against judges. Courthouse security budgets have been slashed even as incidents of verbal abuse have skyrocketed. Judges in rural counties are now being forced to carry concealed weapons. Some have started wearing bulletproof vests under their robes. This is not a dystopian novel; this is life in the American judicial system in 2025.
Why is this happening? The answer is as uncomfortable as it is undeniable: We have taught ourselves that the judge is just another political actor, no different from a cable news pundit or a social media influencer. And when you treat the law as a matter of personal opinion rather than impartial authority, the person in the robe becomes just another enemy.
Think about the messages we are now bombarded with daily. A former president tells his followers that judges are "crooked" and "political hacks." Online influencers teach their audiences that the courtroom is a "kangaroo court" and that "sovereign citizens" can nullify a judge’s authority by simply reciting a magical phrase. Social media algorithms reward videos of people "owning the judge" with millions of views. The message is consistent and corrosive: The judge is not there to enforce the law; the judge is there to be defeated.
This has had a catastrophic effect on the ground level. Consider the case of Judge Michael J. Callahan of Clark County, Nevada. Last month, a defendant in a small claims case refused to stand when the judge entered the courtroom. When the bailiff asked him to rise, the man sneered and said, "I don't recognize your authority. I only answer to God and the Constitution." The judge then ordered the bailiff to remove him. The man went viral, of course, with thousands of comments praising him as a "patriot" and a "hero." Judge Callahan got death threats.
But here is the real tragedy: Everyday Americans are the ones suffering. When judges are afraid, they hesitate. When they are rushed because of a backlog of cases fueled by a culture of defiance, they make mistakes. When they are forced to spend precious minutes dealing with a litigant who refuses to call them "Your Honor" or who launches into a 20-minute rant about "admiralty law," the time that should be spent on a custody dispute, a landlord-tenant issue, or a simple traffic ticket evaporates.
A single, uncooperative litigant can now eat up an entire morning docket. The result? Longer waits, rushed hearings, and a sense that the entire system is broken. The person who comes to court to pay a speeding ticket or settle a divorce finds themselves sitting next to a man arguing that the court has no jurisdiction because he is a "free inhabitant" of a "common law" state. And the judge, exhausted and frustrated, often just moves to the next case, leaving the normal person feeling ignored and unheard.
The collapse of judicial respect is not a left or right issue. It is a human issue. It is the inevitable result of a society that has decided that the only authority that matters is the authority of the loudest voice. And the loudest voices are not in the courtroom; they are on YouTube, TikTok, and the endless echo chambers of partisan news.
I spoke to a retired judge in rural Indiana who asked not to be named. He told me, "I used to think the greatest threat to the judiciary was a lack of funding or political interference. Now, I think it's the belief that the judge doesn't matter. We have created a culture where everyone thinks they are their own Supreme Court. And when everyone is the judge, no one is the judge. The system just chokes and dies."
That choking is already happening. In Los Angeles County, the largest unified court system in the United States, there are now dedicated courtrooms just for "self-represented litigants," many of whom refuse to follow basic courtroom procedures. Judges in these rooms report that up to 40% of their day is spent arguing with people who refuse to give their name, refuse to stand, or refuse to answer questions. The result? The cases of people who actually want to follow the rules are pushed to the back of the line.
The consequences are deeply American. They touch every part of daily life. When a landlord cannot get a judgment for unpaid rent because the tenant disrupts the hearing, the landlord suffers. When a parent cannot get a child support order enforced because the other parent uses "sovereign citizen" tactics to delay the case, the child suffers. When a small business owner cannot collect on a debt because the debtor refuses to acknowledge the court's authority, the business suffers. The erosion of judicial respect is not an abstract problem for law professors. It is a tax on every single American who needs the law to function.
And the judges are scared. They are scared for their families. They are scared
Final Thoughts
Based on the article, it’s clear that a judge isn’t just a passive enforcer of statutes but an active interpreter who shapes the law with every ruling. The real tension lies in balancing strict legal precedent with the human stories that enter the courtroom—a judge’s wisdom is measured not by their knowledge of the code, but by their ability to see the person behind the case. Ultimately, the best judges understand that justice isn’t a formula; it’s a difficult, often lonely, act of conscience.