Judge Amir H. Ali came to the United States 20 years ago, as a software engineer on a training visa. He now sits on the bench of the United States District Court for the District of Columbia. Before becoming a judge, he also argued and won three cases before the US Supreme Court, all resulting in landmark civil rights precedents.

Ali—at the Law School’s Edward H. Levi Distinguished Visiting Jurist Program—recounted his journey before students and faculty on March 30. During the talk, which was moderated by Assistant Professor Hajin Kim, Ali reflected on his work as a civil rights lawyer before he took the bench in 2024, encouraging students to engage in “zealous advocacy” both for those they represent and for their own capabilities.

As a lawyer, Ali was known for his strong advocacy on behalf of people who had been wrongfully convicted. “I did a lot of work for people who were incarcerated, in expanding the rights of the people who are in prison and jails, and in the area of police misconduct,” he shared.

 But while in law school, Ali did not know that he wanted to pursue criminal, civil, or appellate litigation. 

After graduating from Harvard Law School (where he would eventually go back to teach and lead the school’s criminal justice appellate clinic), Ali clerked on the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit and on the Supreme Court of Canada. He then joined Jenner & Block with the intention of litigating trials and appeals. 

From there, Ali’s career path was anything but linear. 

Responding to a question from Kim about how he ended up arguing Supreme Court cases from so early in his career, Ali explained:

“About a year into being at Jenner & Block, I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to litigate an appeal. So, I decided to seek it out and argue a case. Of course, I did not say I’m going to go argue a Supreme Court case, nor would I have wanted to or necessarily been prepared to at the time.” 

Through a program at the firm that allowed Jenner & Block’s Chicago office to receive pro bono appeals from the Seventh Circuit Clerk's office, Ali was assigned what he thought would be his first appellate case.

Ali prepared his briefs and awaited argument in anticipation. Simultaneously, he worked on a petition to the Supreme Court in a death penalty case, which the firm’s appellate group had declined. 

Against everyone’s expectations, that case went to the Supreme Court.

Suddenly, Ali, without having argued a single appeal, was the lead associate on a Supreme Court case. Although he did not argue the case, it became his first opportunity to sit at counsel’s table in the Supreme Court. And when the case got sent back down to the Fifth Circuit, the partners called his name to argue the appeal. After winning that first argument, Ali’s second appellate argument was in front of the Supreme Court. So that first appeal he sought out in the Seventh Circuit became his third (he won that one, as well). 

Ali shared his story to encourage students “to seek out significant responsibilities.” He used his own career as an example: “After you've now stood up in court and argued a death penalty case, how could anyone say that the next case is too important for you?” To Ali, stepping up is “zealous advocacy” for your own capabilities.

He added: “Look at the careers of people who have gone on the path you want to go and start taking on responsibilities—that snowballs and gives you the permission structure to stand up and say, ‘hey, I'm ready for this.’”

More importantly, Ali emphasized the importance of zealous advocacy for clients.

Kim noted that in the face of a conservative-leaning Supreme Court, all three of the cases he argued looked like an uphill battle. But Ali chose not to view it that way.

“I had to not think of them that way because it would have been unproductive to achieving any impact for my clients,” said Ali, when Kim asked about his approach. 

“There's so much of an inclination right now to simplify people and say, ‘You're never going to get this person to vote in favor of your client. You're never going to persuade five justices.’ But, as an advocate for your client, that’s not helpful. If you start from that premise, what are you going to do with it?”

Instead, Ali chose to translate.

Ali spoke about a language that “you only really learn if you spend three years in law school.” A language that his clients didn’t speak.

“No one says 'dispositive,' 'jurisdiction,' or 'deference' in everyday life,” he said. As the room laughed with understanding, Ali continued: 

“It turns out people are pretty good at identifying when they’ve been harmed. Whether I was in the Supreme Court or any other court, I was taking those harms and translating them into a completely foreign language—the law. That’s what zealous advocacy is about: It’s figuring out how to translate what happened to your client into a problem that a judge—somebody with a completely different context because they lived a completely different life—can see. Because unless they see a problem, they’re not going to engage in how to solve it.” 

Kim also asked Ali why, as an advocate, he didn’t like to play to judges and their ideologies. “We know there are strong personalities and strong preferences for particular doctrines, so why not try to play to that?” she asked.

The main reason, Ali said, was that he believes people are complex.

And especially in one of the most polarizing times in American history, Ali encouraged students not to oversimplify.

“I get the instinct to simplify people,” said Ali, “and I’m not trying to tell people to be naive. But the reality is that people are complex. And if you don’t acknowledge that, you're not going to find opportunities to persuade them.”

Ali said he saw this complexity both in his clients and on the Supreme Court. And he also saw complexity strengthen the bonds he shared with his law school classmates.

“If you were to look at my law school class, there was one person in the class who you might have looked at and said, ‘Wow, that person is way different than Amir. I mean, they just have totally different approaches, backgrounds, upbringings.’ People would’ve assumed that we have totally different ideologies.”

Although Ali and his classmate came to criminal justice through very different angles, they both shared that passion. Ali revealed, “That person is probably the person who I co-counseled with and wrote amicus briefs in my cases on criminal justice issues more than anyone else in my law school class.”

Emphasizing the importance of embracing human complexity, Ali told students how lucky they are to be in a space of intellectual curiosity with peers and faculty who share the same passion.

“I am jealous because you have no idea the connections and bonds you're building while you're here in law school. It may not be the people you anticipate, but the bonds you build will be lasting,” he said.

Now, as a district court judge managing hundreds of civil cases and preparing for jury trials, Ali continues to practice what he preaches. Ali explained that, like most judges, he promised during his confirmation hearing to be a judge who makes everyone feel heard. But once he took office, he told his clerks: “It’s time to prove it.” Living out that value, Judge Ali explained, requires “building and committing to practices where people actually feel heard.”