Quiet Cracking: A Generation of Lawyers Disengages in the Wake of the Pandemic

Late to React, Late Lead, and Late to Resign and Retire.

Lately, HE has written a number articles about the legal crisis in Indiana. Last month the National law review called attention to the next legal crisis. Indiana has yet to act, comment, or cover the troubling trend by the state's lawyers.

However, in the void of leadership here, across Indiana, like far beyond, judges, senior partners, and clients are noticing something troubling in law offices and courtrooms: a silence that wasn’t there before.

A growing number of younger attorneys--many realizing the were brainwashed and now in huge debt with jobs they hate—making up those who entered practice during or just after the COVID-19 pandemic—are withdrawing in ways that echo the broader social phenomenon of “quiet quitting.” Insiders are calling it “quiet cracking.”

Unlike quiet quitting, which suggests a calculated reduction in effort, quiet cracking describes something more fragile: lawyers who are struggling under the weight of expectations, technology, and isolation, but who do not voice their dissatisfaction. Instead, they retreat. Partners report new associates who avoid speaking up in meetings, junior counsel who respond to discovery requests with curt emails or no follow-up, and courtroom advocates who seem more comfortable staring into their iPhones than engaging with opposing counsel or judges.

Is the legal career choice failing faster and faster? It seem so. Those in charge need to take the blame.

“The pandemic shifted how young lawyers were trained,” said one senior attorney in Indianapolis. “They graduated into Zoom courtrooms, remote mentoring, and billable-hour pressure without the hallway conversations and social glue that used to hold firms together. Many simply don’t know how to connect—or don’t see the point.”

Data backs up the trend. A recent American Bar Association survey found 42% of lawyers under 36 report feeling disengaged from their firms, and more than a third say they are actively considering leaving the profession. Mental health surveys conducted after 2020 show sharp spikes in anxiety and burnout among early-career lawyers, with isolation cited as a leading factor.

In practice, that disengagement shows up in subtle cracks: missing a client call, avoiding firm social functions, communicating only through text or Slack even when face-to-face discussion would resolve an issue faster. Judges complain of lawyers who seem “checked out,” speaking only when addressed and failing to advocate with energy. Some bar leaders fear that younger attorneys are not merely protecting their work-life balance but losing the sense of professional identity that sustains the legal system.

Technology deepens the divide. iPhones and messaging apps have become shields against difficult conversations. “You can ghost your colleagues in the same way you ghost a Tinder date,” one partner quipped. For a profession built on persuasion and dialogue, this shift is profound.

Yet some see possibility in the discontent. Legal scholars argue that “quiet cracking” is not laziness but a signal of a profession in transition. The next generation is rejecting unhealthy firm hierarchies, punishing billable-hour structures, and outdated mentoring. Instead of ignoring the silence, bar associations and law schools may need to create new channels of connection—peer mentoring circles, wellness initiatives, and models of practice that embrace flexibility without losing collegiality.

Indiana’s Leadership Gap

In Indiana, the problem is compounded by what critics describe as a void of leadership in the legal community. The state already ranks near the bottom nationally in attorney availability, with only about 2.3 lawyers per 1,000 residents. Outside Marion County, vast “legal deserts” leave entire regions with minimal representation. Instead of shoring up support for younger lawyers in these underserved areas, the state’s disciplinary machinery has often been punitive, particularly toward solo and small-firm practitioners outside Indianapolis.

For now, though, the cracks are widening. A walk through many firms today reveals young attorneys with earbuds in, screens glowing, and words unspoken. Whether this generation quietly leaves—or speaks up and reshapes the profession—may determine the future of legal practice itself.

Bottomline, no one should go to law school or seek passage of the Bar in Indiana. The profession, is no longer a profession in Indiana, and the law is too corrupt and inept here.