The American Bar Association’s 2026 Annual Conference in Chicago offered more than an opportunity for lawyers to gather, exchange ideas, and examine the issues facing the profession. It offered a reminder of something more enduring: the legal profession is an institution built across generations, and leadership is ultimately measured not only by what we accomplish during our tenure, but by what we leave prepared for those who follow.

Held July 29 through August 4 in Chicago, the conference brought together lawyers, judges, academics, and legal professionals from across the country to consider issues ranging from artificial intelligence and election integrity to the judiciary, the rule of law, and the future of the profession.

Yet perhaps the most important lesson of any professional gathering is not found on the CLE schedule. It is found in the transition of responsibility from one generation to the next.

The practice of law is, by its nature, deeply connected to precedent. We look backward to understand what has been decided, what principles have endured, and what lessons history can teach us. Leadership within the profession should be approached in much the same way.

At the 2026 Annual Conference, Michelle A. Behnke concluded her term as ABA president, with Barbara J. Howard assuming the presidency and Laura V. Farber becoming president-elect. The ABA House of Delegates likewise experienced a transition in leadership, with Jonathan Cole handing the gavel to incoming Chair Aurora Austriaco.

These transitions illustrate an important principle of organizational stewardship: no leader owns the institution they lead. They hold it in trust.

The title may belong to an individual for a year. The responsibility does not.

A successful leader should not ask only, “What can I accomplish while I am in this position?” The better question is, “What will this institution look like when I am no longer in this position?”

That distinction separates leadership from mere authority.

Legacy is more than recognition -The legal profession understandably celebrates accomplishments. Awards, titles, judicial appointments, bar leadership positions, landmark cases, publications, and professional honors all have their place.

The ABA’s 2026 conference provided a particularly meaningful example through its recognition of John M. Rosenberg with the ABA Medal, the Association’s highest honor for outstanding lifetime service in law and jurisprudence. Rosenberg’s career in civil legal aid demonstrates that professional legacy is not necessarily measured by prominence, but by the lives and institutions strengthened through one’s work.

The conference also recognized the continuing legacy of lawyers who shaped American history. Its 250th-anniversary programming reflected on the lawyers among the signers of the Declaration of Independence and their contributions to the development of principles that would extend far beyond their own lifetimes.

Their relevance today is not simply that they were successful lawyers. It is that they built something they would not live to see completed. That is perhaps the purest definition of legacy.

We inherit rules of professional conduct, judicial precedent, legal institutions, bar associations, traditions of advocacy, and expectations of professional responsibility. We inherit the work of lawyers who came before us—often without knowing their names.

The natural consequence is that we owe something to those who will come after us. Passing leadership to the next generation is therefore not merely an act of succession. It is an act of professional stewardship.

Experienced lawyers have knowledge that cannot be acquired entirely from a textbook: how to navigate difficult clients, how to exercise judgment when the law provides no easy answer, how to build trust, how to disagree professionally, how to recognize opportunities, and how to understand the responsibilities that accompany influence.But that knowledge has limited value if it is not shared.

Mentorship is the mechanism by which professional knowledge becomes institutional memory.

And leadership development is how institutional memory becomes institutional continuity.

A leader who refuses to relinquish control may preserve authority, but rarely preserves an institution. The stronger leader creates successors.

That means identifying people with potential before they necessarily recognize it in themselves. It means giving younger lawyers meaningful responsibility rather than merely inviting them to observe. It means allowing the next generation to develop its own voice, make its own mistakes, and ultimately lead in ways that may look different from the generation before it.

Passing the torch does not diminish the person who carried it first. It proves that they carried it well.

The ABA’s own structure reflects this principle. Its House of Delegates includes nearly 600 representatives from ABA entities and state, local, and specialty bar associations, with leadership and policymaking responsibilities continually transferred as terms expire and new leaders assume responsibility.

This continuity is essential because institutions survive leadership changes precisely because leadership changes.

The question of legacy is ultimately a personal one for every lawyer.

When our term ends, when we leave a board, when we retire from a firm, when we step away from a committee, or when someone else takes the position we once held, what remains?

Perhaps it is a policy we helped establish.

Perhaps it is an organization made stronger.

Perhaps it is a young lawyer who found confidence because someone believed in her.

Perhaps it is a colleague who learned to lead because someone was willing to make room at the table.

Or perhaps it is simply the example we set: that the practice of law is not merely a career, but a profession with obligations extending beyond ourselves.

The 2026 ABA Annual Conference in Chicago was, in many respects, a celebration of where the legal profession has been and a conversation about where it is going. Its programming on the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, its recognition of lifetime service, and its formal transitions in leadership all pointed toward the same enduring concept: institutions are built by individuals, but they endure only when individuals are willing to build for those they may never meet.

The most meaningful form of leadership is therefore not holding tightly to the position we have earned.

It is preparing someone else to hold it next.

Because eventually, every lawyer leaves the room.

The question is whether we leave the profession merely with memories of what we accomplished—or with a stronger institution, a better prepared generation, and a legacy worthy of being carried forward.

Elizabeth Erickson is an intellectual property and estate planning attorney at Oath Law. She serves as a Representative for District 2 of the YLS.

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