The legal system likes to describe itself as meritocratic. Neutral, even. Open to anyone with the credentials and the “grit” to rise.
But in practice, power in many local legal systems is inherited. Look around any small county; you’ll see the same names over and over again in the pictures on the walls of a courthouse.
Perhaps the most notable example is that of Alex Murdaugh, whose family had hold of their South Carolina community for nearly a century.
Across states and counties, the same last names appear again and again on ballots, letterhead, and courtroom doors. A parent serves as prosecutor. A child follows. A sibling runs for judge. A spouse takes over a seat. A former judge’s law partner ascends to the bench. The transitions are often framed as continuity, experience, or community trust.
What they really represent is dynastic control of public legal power. And wherever power is, wealth and influence tend to follow.
It’s never been about individual competence. It is entirely about structure.
How Legal Dynasties Form
Family pipelines into prosecution and judgeships rarely begin with a single election. It begins with privilege and access.
It’s no secret that elections can be expensive. So it begins with someone having the funds to be able to pay for the campaign.
Then, couple that with the fact that children of prosecutors and judges grow up fluent in the system. They understand court culture before law school. They know which clerkships matter, which mentors carry weight, which mistakes are forgiven and which are fatal. They inherit networks, reputations, and informal credibility long before they inherit titles.
By the time they run for office, the path has already been cleared. The system does not call this nepotism, however. It mislabels it as experience.
Prosecutor Offices as Legacy Institutions
Prosecutor roles are especially prone to dynastic continuity because they combine political power with institutional insulation.
Prosecutors decide:
- who is charged
- what charges are filed
- which cases are dismissed
- how plea negotiations are framed
When those decisions are made by people who grew up inside the same exact professional worldview, accountability narrows. Practices harden. Office culture becomes self-reinforcing. It becomes far too easy for a family member or even a close friend to bring someone in from their circle. The public is largely ignorant of the work going on within the prosecutor’s office, let alone keeping an eye on who is hired to do what.
When leadership passes from one generation to the next within the same families or social circles, the question is not whether rules are followed. The question is whether the rules ever evolve.
Nothing changes because it doesn’t have to. They know the landscape, why change it for anyone else?
Judicial Seats and the Illusion of Neutrality
Judges are expected to be independent arbiters. But judicial elections and appointments are often shaped by the same networks that dominate prosecution.
Family names carry recognition. Recognition carries votes. Endorsements follow familiarity. Familiarity follows lineage.
The result is a bench that may be formally neutral but culturally aligned with the same prosecutorial and law enforcement norms it is meant to keep in check.
But this isn’t corruption. It’s concentration.
Why Dynasties Matter Even When No One Breaks the Rules
Defenders of legal dynasties often respond with a familiar refrain: No laws were broken. Everyone ran fairly. The voters “chose.”
It’s a tone deaf argument that misses the point entirely. The illusion of choice is not a choice at all.
Systems can be distorted without ever violating statutes. When the same families and networks cycle through roles of charging, judging, and advising, the system becomes closed to any meaningful lived experience outside of that circle. It’s a professional echo chamber that enforces the status quo to continue indefinitely.
With political connections and financial barriers, there’s a significant bar to entry. And that’s why public defenders, community advocates, and system-impacted people rarely come from these lineages. Their perspectives arrive as interruption rather than inheritance.
That imbalance shows up in outcomes, not headlines.
The Cost to Public Trust
Legal dynasties quietly erode trust because they blur the line between public office and private inheritance.
The reality for people moving through the system, is this:
- decisions are preordained
- accountability is circular
- complaints disappear into familiar hands
- elections are formalities rather than choices
Even when every actor believes they are acting ethically and should never be challenged, the structure communicates exclusion.
Trust does not fail because of one bad decision. It fails because power never changes hands.
The Revolving Door Effect
Family dynasties often overlap with professional revolving doors.
A judge retires and a former clerk or relative steps in. A prosecutor leaves office and a family member or family friend runs or is appointed. A former judge’s child becomes a prosecutor who appears before former colleagues.
None of this violates ethics rules on paper, yet all of it weakens the perception of independence. It’s the perception of “mommy and/or daddy” handing someone the keys to the kingdom not just through paying for their education, but preparing the seat for them at the table.
The system begins to resemble an internal promotion ladder rather than a public institution. It essentially becomes “the family business.”
Why Reform Conversations Avoid This Topic
Legal dynasties are rarely discussed in reform spaces because they make people uncomfortable.
Additionally, it requires acknowledging that:
- access matters as much as ability
- elections do not start at the ballot box
- neutrality can be culturally inherited
- “qualified” often means “known”
Naming this does not accuse individuals of wrongdoing. It questions whether the system is designed to reproduce itself rather than serve the public.
What Accountability Would Actually Look Like
Meaningful accountability does not require banning family members from public office. It requires structural transparency.
That includes:
- public disclosure of familial relationships within prosecutor and court offices
- clearer recusal standards tied to professional lineage, not just direct conflicts
- limits on appointment pipelines that recycle the same networks
- meaningful inclusion of non-dynastic legal voices in leadership roles
Most importantly, it requires honesty about how power moves through communities, and encouraging new voices to step-up and help shape those communities.
Why This Matters Now
At a time when public confidence in courts is fragile, pretending that dynastic control is benign is a complete mistake.
People do not need perfect systems. They need systems that are visibly open, accountable, and capable of change.
A legal system that passes power hand to hand within families may be efficient, but it is not at all fair or even democratic.
Pulling It All Together
Family legal dynasties are not a conspiracy. They are an inherent design flaw and people have learned how to work the system. They just don’t want to admit it.
When you’ve had literally everything handed to you, how much do you truly care about fairness, or understanding those in your community who struggle and have significantly less than you do?
This world view concentrates power, narrows perspectives, and quietly insulates decision-making from the people most affected by it.
And until the legal system is willing to examine how authority is inherited, not just how it is exercised, reform will always stop short of the source.
