I recently came across an article examining the growing shortage of indigent defense attorneys in Texas and across the country. The statistics were concerning. Texas lost more than 1,300 attorneys handling indigent defense matters over roughly a decade, even as the overall number of licensed attorneys in the state continued to grow. Meanwhile, public defender offices and appointed counsel systems across the country report increasing caseloads, attorney shortages, and defendants waiting for representation.
At first glance, the story appears to be about staffing.
I think it is about something deeper.
The right to counsel is not optional. It is not a pilot program. It is not a discretionary public service that counties may choose to provide when budgets allow. It is a constitutional right.
Yet when discussions about criminal justice funding arise, indigent defense often seems to occupy a different category from every other part of the system.
Few people question the need to fund prosecutors. Few people question the need to fund courts. Few people question the need to fund law enforcement. Those expenditures are generally viewed as essential functions of government.
Indigent defense, however, often finds itself in the position of having to justify its existence.
Every few months another article appears highlighting how much money was paid to appointed counsel. Readers are invited to be shocked by the numbers. The implication is often that too much is being spent defending people accused of crimes.
What rarely receives the same attention is the larger question.
If the right to counsel is constitutional, why do we so often treat its funding as optional?
The answer may be uncomfortable.
For all our public commitments to the presumption of innocence, many people view defense lawyers through the lens of guilt rather than constitutional rights. It is easier to question funding for defense when the discussion focuses on people accused of crimes rather than on the constitutional safeguards that protect all of us.
But defense attorneys are not an add-on to the system. They are part of the system.
The Sixth Amendment only has meaning when there is an attorney available to answer the appointment.
And increasingly, there are fewer attorneys willing or able to do so.
I’m one of the lawyers on the appointment list, and I know what it costs to say yes.
Some are retiring after decades of service. Some are burned out from overwhelming caseloads. And here in Harris County, I’ve seen some of them die. Others have simply reached a point where the emotional, financial, and professional demands of the work are no longer sustainable.
At the same time, fewer young lawyers are stepping into their place.
This should concern everyone, regardless of political ideology or views about criminal justice policy.
Because the question is not whether defendants deserve lawyers.
The Constitution already answered that question.
Gideon was decided more than sixty years ago. The future of indigent defense will not be determined by court opinions. The right already exists.
What remains uncertain is whether we value it enough to sustain the people who make it possible.
For years, many indigent defense lawyers accepted heavy caseloads, uncertain compensation, and public criticism because they believed the work mattered. They believed constitutional rights were worth defending even when the people exercising those rights were unpopular.
That kind of commitment cannot be taken for granted.
As the current generation of indigent defense attorneys retires, ages out of practice, or leaves the profession, we must ask ourselves a difficult question:
Who will answer the call?
Source: “With fewer public defenders, indigent defendants pay the price,” by David Montgomery, Stateline (October 14, 2026). The Texas figures come from research by Texas A&M’s Public Policy Research Institute for the Texas Indigent Defense Commission. The 1963 decision discussed above is Gideon v. Wainwright, 372 U.S. 335 (1963).
