insights: The Importance of Psychological Safety in Bar Associations
When I stepped into the role of Chair of the ABA Business Law Section for the 2024–2025 bar year, I chose a theme that, at first glance, may have seemed more aspirational than operational: From the Heart. The phrase was not meant to be sentimental. It was meant to be corrective.
Like many bar associations across the country, we were facing a familiar and uncomfortable reality. Membership growth had slowed. Engagement was uneven. Longtime members remained deeply committed, but newer lawyers—especially first-time attendees—often drifted in and out without forming the kind of connection that leads to sustained involvement. This is not unique to one Section or one organization. It is a broader challenge across the profession. The question, as I saw it, was not simply how to attract members, but how to make them want to stay.
What I came to appreciate more fully over the course of that year is that the answer lies less in programming and more in experience—specifically, the human experience of walking into a room full of accomplished strangers and trying to find a place within it.
For a first-time attendee, a bar association meeting can be an intimidating environment. The rooms are often filled with highly credentialed lawyers who seem to know one another, who move comfortably through conversations, and who appear to belong. For someone new, particularly someone early in their career or entering a new practice area, that same environment can feel closed, even if no one intends it to be. The unspoken question becomes: Do I belong here?
That question is not intellectual. It is emotional. And it is where the concept of psychological safety becomes not only relevant, but essential.
Psychological safety, in this context, means creating an environment where individuals feel welcome, respected, and free to engage without fear of embarrassment or exclusion. It is the difference between attending a meeting and participating in it. It is what allows someone to raise their hand, introduce themselves, join a conversation, or return the following year with the confidence that they are part of something, not merely observing it.
Once I began to view our meetings through that lens, the path forward became clearer. We did not need to reinvent the substance of what we offered. The Business Law Section already provides exceptional content, thought leadership, and networking opportunities. What we needed to reconsider was how that experience was delivered—how it felt to the person walking in for the first time.
I began encouraging Section leaders, committee chairs, and longtime members to think of themselves not just as participants, but as hosts. That shift in mindset is subtle, but powerful. A host does not wait to be approached. A host looks for the person standing alone, the unfamiliar face at the edge of the room, the individual scanning name badges and trying to decide where to begin. A host initiates. They introduce. They connect. They create an entry point where none previously existed.
What I observed when leaders embraced that role was striking. New attendees who might otherwise have remained on the periphery began to engage more quickly. Conversations became more inclusive. Meetings felt less like gatherings of established circles and more like communities open to expansion. And perhaps most importantly, people began to return.
There is a tendency in professional organizations to focus on metrics—attendance numbers, membership counts, program offerings. Those metrics matter. But they are often downstream from something more fundamental: whether people feel seen and valued. A lawyer who attends a meeting and leaves without making a meaningful connection is far less likely to come back, no matter how strong the programming may have been. Conversely, a lawyer who feels welcomed—who is introduced to others, invited into conversations, and treated as someone who belongs—will often return even if they are still finding their footing in the substantive material.
This is where the theme From the Heart took on its full meaning. It was not about softening the rigor of the Section or diminishing its intellectual strength. It was about recognizing that professional excellence and human connection are not competing values. They are complementary ones. In fact, one often depends on the other.
The implications of this are significant for bar associations confronting the challenge of attrition. If the goal is to grow membership and deepen engagement, then the focus must extend beyond recruitment and programming to include culture. Psychological safety is not an abstract concept in this setting; it is a practical strategy. It is what transforms a meeting from an event into an experience, and from an experience into a relationship.
This does not require sweeping structural changes. It requires intention. It requires leaders who are willing to take a few extra moments to welcome someone new, to make an introduction, and to follow up after a conversation. It requires an awareness that every interaction contributes to the overall impression of the organization. And it requires a shared understanding that inclusion is not passive—it is something that must be actively practiced.
Looking back on that year, I am convinced that this approach represents more than a theme. It represents a necessary evolution. Bar associations have long served as centers of professional development and thought leadership. To continue thriving, they must also become environments where members feel a genuine sense of belonging.
The law, at its core, is a human enterprise. It is practiced by people, for people, in service of people. Our professional organizations should reflect that reality. When they do—when they operate not only with intellect, but from the heart—they become places where lawyers do not simply attend, but where they choose to invest their time, their energy, and their future.
And that choice, made one member at a time, is how a community endures.
Like many bar associations across the country, we were facing a familiar and uncomfortable reality. Membership growth had slowed. Engagement was uneven. Longtime members remained deeply committed, but newer lawyers—especially first-time attendees—often drifted in and out without forming the kind of connection that leads to sustained involvement. This is not unique to one Section or one organization. It is a broader challenge across the profession. The question, as I saw it, was not simply how to attract members, but how to make them want to stay.
What I came to appreciate more fully over the course of that year is that the answer lies less in programming and more in experience—specifically, the human experience of walking into a room full of accomplished strangers and trying to find a place within it.
For a first-time attendee, a bar association meeting can be an intimidating environment. The rooms are often filled with highly credentialed lawyers who seem to know one another, who move comfortably through conversations, and who appear to belong. For someone new, particularly someone early in their career or entering a new practice area, that same environment can feel closed, even if no one intends it to be. The unspoken question becomes: Do I belong here?
That question is not intellectual. It is emotional. And it is where the concept of psychological safety becomes not only relevant, but essential.
Psychological safety, in this context, means creating an environment where individuals feel welcome, respected, and free to engage without fear of embarrassment or exclusion. It is the difference between attending a meeting and participating in it. It is what allows someone to raise their hand, introduce themselves, join a conversation, or return the following year with the confidence that they are part of something, not merely observing it.
Once I began to view our meetings through that lens, the path forward became clearer. We did not need to reinvent the substance of what we offered. The Business Law Section already provides exceptional content, thought leadership, and networking opportunities. What we needed to reconsider was how that experience was delivered—how it felt to the person walking in for the first time.
I began encouraging Section leaders, committee chairs, and longtime members to think of themselves not just as participants, but as hosts. That shift in mindset is subtle, but powerful. A host does not wait to be approached. A host looks for the person standing alone, the unfamiliar face at the edge of the room, the individual scanning name badges and trying to decide where to begin. A host initiates. They introduce. They connect. They create an entry point where none previously existed.
What I observed when leaders embraced that role was striking. New attendees who might otherwise have remained on the periphery began to engage more quickly. Conversations became more inclusive. Meetings felt less like gatherings of established circles and more like communities open to expansion. And perhaps most importantly, people began to return.
There is a tendency in professional organizations to focus on metrics—attendance numbers, membership counts, program offerings. Those metrics matter. But they are often downstream from something more fundamental: whether people feel seen and valued. A lawyer who attends a meeting and leaves without making a meaningful connection is far less likely to come back, no matter how strong the programming may have been. Conversely, a lawyer who feels welcomed—who is introduced to others, invited into conversations, and treated as someone who belongs—will often return even if they are still finding their footing in the substantive material.
This is where the theme From the Heart took on its full meaning. It was not about softening the rigor of the Section or diminishing its intellectual strength. It was about recognizing that professional excellence and human connection are not competing values. They are complementary ones. In fact, one often depends on the other.
The implications of this are significant for bar associations confronting the challenge of attrition. If the goal is to grow membership and deepen engagement, then the focus must extend beyond recruitment and programming to include culture. Psychological safety is not an abstract concept in this setting; it is a practical strategy. It is what transforms a meeting from an event into an experience, and from an experience into a relationship.
This does not require sweeping structural changes. It requires intention. It requires leaders who are willing to take a few extra moments to welcome someone new, to make an introduction, and to follow up after a conversation. It requires an awareness that every interaction contributes to the overall impression of the organization. And it requires a shared understanding that inclusion is not passive—it is something that must be actively practiced.
Looking back on that year, I am convinced that this approach represents more than a theme. It represents a necessary evolution. Bar associations have long served as centers of professional development and thought leadership. To continue thriving, they must also become environments where members feel a genuine sense of belonging.
The law, at its core, is a human enterprise. It is practiced by people, for people, in service of people. Our professional organizations should reflect that reality. When they do—when they operate not only with intellect, but from the heart—they become places where lawyers do not simply attend, but where they choose to invest their time, their energy, and their future.
And that choice, made one member at a time, is how a community endures.