(Opinion) Free speech is not optional: The First Amendment in the age of identity and ideology

Law school is supposed to sharpen your mind. But lately, it's been muting the very voice that makes a lawyer powerful: conviction.

Across the country, students aren't staying silent out of indifference, they're staying silent out of fear. Fear of saying the wrong thing, being misinterpreted, or jeopardizing their future. And in that silence, we lose more than just opinions--we lose the training that makes advocates unshakeable.

This isn't about politics. It's about principle. And it's not a generational shift; it's a constitutional erosion.

I just finished my second year at Southwestern Law School. This semester, Constitutional Law II hit different. Equal Protection. The First Amendment. Barnette. Mahanoy. The deeper we got, the more obvious it became: if you don't speak freely in school, you won't speak with force in court. Silence doesn't protect you. It dulls you. And a quiet litigator is a liability.

Free speech isn't some passing trend. It's constitutional law--and the courts have made its limits and protections unmistakably clear.

In Barnette, the court held that the government can't force people to say what they don't believe. That means compelled speech--like requiring ideological pledges, even for noble reasons--is unconstitutional, no matter the setting.

In Rosenberger and Matal, the court reaffirmed that public institutions can't favor or shut down speech based on viewpoint. That has real implications today: when a law school only gives a platform to one side of a debate in the name of "inclusivity," it may be stepping over a constitutional line.

Tinker made it clear that students don't give up their rights when they walk onto campus. Mahanoy extended that protection off campus too. Schools that discipline students for social media or group chats based on viewpoint are skating on thin constitutional ice.

And when schools open up forums--like events, panels, or publications--they create a limited public forum. In that space, discriminating based on content or viewpoint isn't just bad policy--it triggers strict scrutiny.

These doctrines weren't built to make people comfortable. They were built to make disagreement possible. That's how the adversarial process survives.

Litigation is adversarial. If you can't defend a client's unpopular belief or identity, you're not an advocate, you're a liability.

Judges won't always agree. Clients won't always be liked. We're not hired to be liked. We're hired to know the law and win under pressure.
Avoiding heat in school means freezing in front of a jury. It dulls the very instinct that makes a litigator powerful: persuasive courage.

I didn't come to law school to echo what's safe. I came to learn how to use the law when it matters the most.

Free speech doesn't protect easy opinions. It exists so that when the pressure is highest, and the room is quiet, the advocate can still speak.

Because no one wins cases whispering. And courtrooms don't wait for you to get comfortable.

Nathan Missaghi is a J.D. candidate at Southwestern Law School and a Yoka Panish Fellow CALI Award recipient