CBA Record May-June 2026

Entrenching Rule 5.4 This campaign against auto clubs had two lasting consequences. First, it deprived Americans of a low-cost legal delivery model that might have evolved into something much more robust. Imag ine if, instead of dismantling the system, the bar had collaborated with auto clubs to improve quality, ensure accountability, and expand offerings. We might today have widespread, subscription-based legal services, much as we have health insur ance or roadside assistance. Second, the litigation against auto clubs helped entrench a regulatory framework that persists to this day. Courts, urged by bar associations, asserted the “inherent powers doctrine,” asserting exclusive judi cial authority to regulate the practice of law. And, over time, the prohibitions on fee-sharing with nonlawyers and nonlaw yer ownership of legal practices, enshrined in Rule 5.4, became dogma. What began as a targeted campaign to shut down a com petitor ballooned into a structural barrier against innovation. Modern Consequences Fast-forward to today. We face a stag gering access-to-justice crisis: Studies show that more than 80% of low-income Americans’ civil legal needs go unmet. Middle-class households often cannot afford legal representation for family law matters, housing disputes, or consumer claims. Into that vacuum has rushed a wave of technology companies, self-help tools, and do-it-yourself platforms. Some of these are helpful, but they are largely inadequate to serve public need. And yet, when proposals emerge to rethink Rule 5.4, whether through reg ulatory sandboxes in Utah, alternative business structures in Arizona, or through limited experiments in other states, the organized bar often reacts with the same instincts it displayed in the 1930s: fear of competition, warnings of doom, and resistance to change.

Auto Clubs, the CBA, and the Legacy of Rule 5.4 PRACTICAL ETHICS BY TRISHA RICH I n the constant conversation about the access-to-justice crisis, it is easy to assume the problem is new. The rise of self-represented litigants, ballooning legal fees, and unmet legal needs for middle- and low-income Americans often seem like modern concerns. But as Nora Freeman Engstrom and James Stone remind us in the Yale Law Journal article, “Auto Clubs and the Lost Origins of the Access-to-Justice Crisis,” the story is older—and lawyers themselves, including some of Chicago’s own, played a central role in shaping it (https://yalelawjournal.org/feature/auto-clubs-and-the-lost origins-of-the-access-to-justice-crisis). The Rise and Fall of Auto Club Legal Services In the early twentieth century, automobile clubs weren’t just roadside rescue providers. For the price of membership dues, they offered members a package of legal services that today would sound visionary: representation in criminal matters arising from driving, pursuit of civil claims related to accidents, and even impact-style litigation designed to reshape the law in members’ favor. These services were practical, accessible, and perhaps most importantly, affordable. Lawyers who were employed by the automobile clubs then provided these services to the club’s clients. By the 1920s, auto clubs had become key legal lifelines for everyday drivers navigat ing the novel risks of a society that was, for the first time, adapting to transportation by car. They lowered costs by pooling resources, provided predictability by bundling legal help with membership, and gave motorists confidence that if trouble came, someone would be there to help. The Bar’s Response But organized bars saw a threat. As Engstrom and Stone recount, the American Bar Association and, closer to home, The Chicago Bar Association spearheaded efforts to limit and eventually shut down these arrangements. The clubs were accused of engaging in the unauthorized practice of law. Lawsuits were filed, injunctions sought, and eventu ally, a coordinated litigation campaign succeeded in dismantling auto clubs’ ability to provide legal representation. What was absent from these cases was evidence that clients were harmed. There were no waves of malpractice, no flood of consumer complaints. The bar’s concern was not that motorists were being misled or underserved. No, the concern was that lawyers’ eco nomic turf was being invaded. Not coincidentally, this was happening amid the Great Depression in the 1930s. The CBA was a key actor in this movement. Chicago, with its growing population of drivers and strong local bar, became a proving ground for the argument that group legal services, no matter how effective, were an existential threat to the profession’s independence.

Trisha Rich is a commercial litigator and legal ethicist at Holland & Knight; the First Vice President of the Chicago Bar Association; and a past president of the Association of Professional Responsibility Lawyers, the national bar association for legal ethicists.

40 May/June 2026