In 1869, Arabella Mansfield became the first woman admitted to practice law in the United States. Her achievement was not inevitable. At the time, Iowa law permitted only white men of “good moral character” to sit for the state bar examination. Mansfield had studied law through an apprenticeship in her brother’s law office and prepared extensively to enter the profession, but the law itself appeared to exclude her before she ever had the opportunity to demonstrate her qualifications.

When Mansfield challenged that barrier, Judge Francis Springer relied on a little-known provision of the Iowa Code stating that words importing the masculine gender could extend to females. Applying that principle, he concluded that the statute’s use of the word “male” did not prevent a woman from becoming a lawyer. Mansfield passed the bar examination, with the examiners attesting to her qualifications. They stated:

 “[t]hat Mrs. Mansfield having passed a most eminently satisfactory examination, giving the very best evidence of long and careful study, of excellent application, and a thorough acquaintance with the elementary principles of law…Your committee takes unusual pleasure in recommending the admission of Mrs. Mansfield, not only because she is the first lady who has applied for this authority in this state, but because in her examination, she has given the very best rebuke possible to the imputation that ladies cannot qualify for the practice of law.”

The following year, the Iowa legislature amended its statute to remove the restrictive language entirely, opening the door for women and people of color to enter the profession.

More than 150 years later, the legal profession confronts a very different question about access. Women are no longer excluded from the bar, and in many ways, they have entered the profession in unprecedented numbers. According to the National Association for Law Placement’s 2025 Report on Diversity in U.S. Law Firms, women make up more than half of associates and summer associates at law firms. Yet, representation declines significantly as lawyers move into positions of greater authority.

These figures reveal a reality that legal scholars and practitioners have described for decades, and of which I have written about in prior blog posts: the profession’s pipeline to leadership remains fragile. The challenge extends beyond access to the legal profession itself to whether individuals receive the mentorship, sponsorship, visibility, and opportunities necessary to advance within it.

The Mansfield Rule and the Modern Leadership Pipeline

It is within this context that the Mansfield Rule emerged.

Named after Arabella, the Mansfield Rule was developed by Diversity Lab in 2016 after a Women in Law Hackathon brought together legal leaders seeking solutions to persistent gender disparities in law firm leadership. The Rule was inspired in part by the National Football League’s Rooney Rule, which was originally adopted in 2003 to address the low representation of minority candidates in head coaching positions by requiring teams to interview minority candidates before making hiring decisions.

The Mansfield Rule adapted this concept to the legal profession. Where the Rooney rule requires teams to interview at least two minority candidates for head coaching roles, organizations participating in Mansfield commit to ensuring that at least 30% of the lawyers considered for certain leadership positions and career-advancing opportunities come from historically underrepresented groups. The Mansfield Rule does not require law firms to hire, promote, or select any individual based on race, gender, ethnicity, disability, or sexual orientation. Firms remain free to consider as many candidates as they choose and retain complete discretion over whom they ultimately select.

That distinction between expanding who receives consideration and dictating who receives an opportunity is critical. The Mansfield Rule is designed to address a problem that exists throughout many professional environments: decisionmakers can only evaluate talent that is visible to them. Leadership opportunities often arise through informal networks, sponsorship relationships, and assumptions about who appears ready for advancement. These dynamics are rarely reflected in formal policies, but they can shape who receives the opportunities necessary to become a future leader.

The legal profession is not unfamiliar with a concept like the Mansfield Rule. For decades, institutions have developed pipeline programs designed to expose individuals from historically underrepresented backgrounds to the profession and to provide access to the knowledge, networks, and mentorship that many others acquire informally. These programs do not guarantee admission to law school or success in legal practice. They seek to ensure that talented individuals are aware of opportunities and have the resources necessary to compete for them.

The Mansfield Rule reflects a similar idea at a different stage of the professional journey. It goes beyond addressing the initial pathways into the profession and looks at broadening access along the pathway to leadership. It asks organizations to examine whether they are looking broadly enough when identifying future partners, practice leaders, management committee members, or attorneys selected for high-profile assignments. In other words, it seeks to expand the pool of qualified individuals who are seen before decisions are made.

The Distinction Between Consideration and Selection

For years, these types of efforts existed alongside longstanding principles of employment discrimination law. Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits employers from making employment decisions because of an individual’s race, sex, religion, national origin, or other protected characteristics. The Supreme Court has historically recognized that Title VII permits certain voluntary affirmative action plans designed to address the effects of past discrimination or significant imbalances within traditionally segregated workforces. In cases such as United Steelworkers v. Weber and Johnson v. Transportation Agency, the Court upheld narrowly tailored efforts that sought to expand opportunities for historically excluded groups without unnecessarily restricting opportunities for others.

At the same time, the Court has consistently distinguished between efforts to broaden opportunity and systems that guarantee outcomes. Title VII does not permit employers to reserve positions for individuals based on protected characteristics, impose rigid quotas, or engage in racial or gender balancing. The distinction between consideration and selection has therefore been central to debates over the limits of lawful diversity efforts.

That distinction has become increasingly contested this past year. In January 2026, the Federal Trade Commission sent letters to law firms questioning whether participation in Diversity Lab’s Mansfield Certification could constitute unlawful coordination on diversity metrics. The Agency expressed concern that agreements among firms involving diversity benchmarks could operate as anticompetitive arrangements or unlawful quotas. Shortly afterward, Diversity Lab announced that it would pause its Mansfield Certification process and furlough much of its staff.

The Future of Equal Opportunity Under Title VII

At the same time, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission has signaled a significant shift in its approach to workplace diversity initiatives. This month, the EEOC announced plans to rescind its 1979 guidance on voluntary affirmative action under Title VII and identified diversity-related initiatives as a key enforcement priority, including certain diverse slate requirements, demographic reporting practices, and programs tied to diversity objectives.

These developments raise an increasingly important question. Namely, has Title VII entered a new era in which even efforts designed to ensure equal consideration may be treated as discriminatory?

The answer is far from settled. Rescinding agency guidance does not amend the text of Title VII, nor does it automatically render all voluntary diversity initiatives unlawful. Courts will continue to interpret the statute’s requirements, and the Supreme Court has not directly addressed whether programs that merely expand candidate pools, without reserving positions or giving preferences in final selection decisions, violate Title VII.

In fact, recent litigation involving the law firm Perkins Coie highlighted this very distinction. In evaluating government criticisms of the firm’s participation in the Mansfield Rule, Judge Beryl Howell observed that the program “expressly does not establish any hiring quotas or other illegally discriminatory practices,” but instead requires only that firms consider attorneys from diverse backgrounds for certain positions. She further noted that increases in representation following such efforts do not necessarily demonstrate the use of impermissible preferences. A different explanation may be that expanding the pool of qualified individuals who receive consideration allows organizations to identify talented candidates who were previously overlooked because of existing biases or institutional barriers.

This debate ultimately reflects a deeper disagreement about what equality requires in the modern legal workplace. For some, any explicit effort to account for historical patterns of exclusion risks treating individuals differently because of their identities. For others, ignoring the structures and informal networks that influence who receives opportunities does not create a truly level playing field, it merely preserves existing patterns of access.

The distinction between equal opportunity and equal outcomes has long been central to conversations about fairness in the legal profession. A program that guarantees a particular result raises fundamentally different concerns than one that asks a simple preliminary question: Who was considered in the first place? That question is particularly meaningful in a profession built on relationships, sponsorship, and institutional visibility. A lawyer cannot become a managing partner, practice group leader, or lead counsel without first receiving opportunities that signal readiness for those roles. The individuals considered for those opportunities often shape who eventually occupies positions of power.

The irony of the current debate is that the Mansfield Rule carries the name of a woman who was once excluded from the legal profession because the law assumed that the category of “lawyer” belonged only to certain people. Arabella Mansfield’s legacy was not about guaranteeing that women would become attorneys. It was about recognizing that the profession had incorrectly limited who was permitted to demonstrate their qualifications.

A robust legal profession depends not only on how it evaluates talent, but also on whether it is willing to examine how that talent is identified in the first place. The future of the Mansfield Rule and initiatives like it may ultimately depend on where the law draws the line between discrimination and opportunity. Regardless of the answer, the lesson of Arabella Mansfield’s admission to the bar remains that a profession committed to merit must first ensure that all qualified individuals have the opportunity to be seen.

Shea Holman Killian is an Assistant Professor of Legal Studies at George Mason University, where she teaches various law and government courses and guides students through the Jurisprudence Learning Community (JPLC). She also serves as a member of the Schar School of Policy and Government’s Gender and Policy Center advisory board, contributing her expertise to advancing gender equity in policy and governance. Outside of George Mason, Shea serves as Counsel at the Purple Method, providing strategic legal guidance, overseeing policy development, and collaborating with stakeholders to create safer and more equitable workplaces.