When Dana Leigh Marks, a trailblazing immigration judge who spent decades on the front lines of American justice, looks back on her career, she sees a system in turmoil unlike anything she ever imagined. "I have seen my entire career destroyed by Trump in six months," Marks told The Guardian recently, her words tinged with both disbelief and deep concern. The state of the courts she once served, she says, is now marked by chaos, political interference, and a mounting sense of uncertainty—not only for judges but for the millions of people who depend on the legal system for fair hearings.
Marks, who retired in 2021 after 35 years on the bench and a landmark Supreme Court victory that expanded asylum eligibility, is hardly alone in her worries. Across both the United States and Australia, courts are grappling with unprecedented pressures. In Australia, the surge of self-represented litigants turning to generative artificial intelligence (AI) for legal help is raising new alarms about the reliability and integrity of court proceedings. In the US, the immigration court system is being reshaped by sweeping personnel changes and policy shifts, including the removal of experience requirements for judges and the mass hiring of military lawyers to fill the bench.
Since late 2022, Australian courts have seen a sharp rise in the use of generative AI by litigants, with 84 reported cases, according to research highlighted by The Conversation. Of these, more than three-quarters—66 cases—involved people representing themselves. The temptation to seek free or low-cost help is understandable, especially when the stakes are high and legal representation is out of reach. As Judge My Anh Tran of Victoria’s County Court put it, "Generative AI can be beguiling, particularly when the task of representing yourself seems overwhelming." But the risks are real. "A litigant runs the risk that their case will be damaged, rather than helped, if they choose to use AI without taking the time to understand what it produces, and to confirm that it is both legally and factually accurate," Tran warned.
The consequences of relying on AI-generated legal arguments can be severe. In Queensland, courts issued updated guidance in September 2025, cautioning that using inaccurate AI-generated information could cause delays or even result in a costs order against the user. New South Wales Chief Justice Andrew Bell noted in August that one self-represented respondent’s AI-generated submissions, though offered in good faith, were often "misconceived, unhelpful and irrelevant." The message is clear: while technology offers new tools, it also introduces new pitfalls, especially for those navigating the system without professional guidance.
Self-representation is far from rare in Australia. In the Federal Circuit Court, 79% of litigants in migration matters during 2023-2024 went without lawyers. The Queensland District Court has similarly acknowledged that "a significant number of civil proceedings involve self-represented parties." As the availability of generative AI increases, so does the temptation to use it. Yet, as experts and the courts themselves have repeatedly stressed, there are safer alternatives for legal research, such as the Australasian Legal Information Institute (AUSTLII) and Jade, both of which offer free, reliable resources. Court libraries and law schools also provide valuable support, underscoring the importance of verifying any AI-generated advice against trusted sources.
Australian courts, including the Supreme Courts of Queensland, New South Wales, and Victoria, have all issued specific guidance on when and how generative AI should be used in legal proceedings. Queensland’s guide for self-litigants goes further, warning: "Do not enter any private, confidential, suppressed or legally privileged information into a Generative AI chatbot [...] Anything you put into a Generative AI chatbot could become publicly known." The risks of inadvertently breaching suppression orders or exposing confidential details are not theoretical—they are pressing concerns in an increasingly digital legal landscape.
On the other side of the Pacific, the US immigration courts are facing their own crisis. Marks, now 71, described the Trump administration’s impact as nothing short of devastating. More than 100 immigration judges have been fired since Trump took office, including about a third of the judges in San Francisco’s immigration court, one of the nation’s busiest. The backlog of cases has ballooned to 3.6 million, leaving countless individuals in limbo.
"If I were an immigration practitioner now, I’d tell my clients that they have to act like they’re in a war zone," Marks said. She painted a picture of a system under siege, with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents arresting people outside court hearings and judges struggling to keep up with overwhelming dockets. The frenetic pace, she said, is like "the guy behind the curtain in The Wizard of Oz": managing technology, interpreters, and immediate oral rulings with little support.
Perhaps most troubling to Marks and her colleagues is the recent decision to remove the requirement that temporary immigration judges have at least ten years of immigration law experience. In late August 2025, 600 military lawyers were cleared to fill vacant judge seats—a move Marks described as "absolutely unprecedented." While she was careful not to disparage military lawyers as a group, she voiced concern that they might be chosen "because there’s a perception that they will just follow orders." The independence of the judiciary, a cornerstone of American democracy, is at stake, she argued.
The roots of Marks’s advocacy run deep. Raised in Los Angeles by a family shaped by their own immigrant experience—her Jewish grandmother fled pogroms in Lithuania—she has long believed in the importance of due process and an independent court system. Her 1987 Supreme Court victory in INS v Cardoza-Fonseca expanded asylum eligibility, and her leadership of the National Association of Immigration Judges brought collective bargaining rights and greater protections for judges. Yet, she remains frustrated that immigration courts are overseen by the Department of Justice, part of the executive branch, rather than the judiciary. "The boss of the prosecutor should not be the boss of the judge," she insisted.
Efforts to move immigration courts out from under political influence have stalled. A 2022 bill introduced by Congresswoman Zoe Lofgren would have created an independent immigration court system, but it failed to pass. Marks believes reviving such reforms should be a top priority, arguing that everyone—regardless of political leanings—should be alarmed by the current level of interference. "Americans were raised with the golden principle that everybody deserves due process, and I really think the majority of Americans believe that," she said. "What kills me, as a lawyer, is that Trump turns everything on its head and blows through clearly established legal precedent as if it doesn’t exist. Fealty to precedent is the core of our legal system."
Despite the challenges, Marks remains cautiously optimistic that the chaos will eventually prompt reform. She predicts that the mass appointment of military lawyers, with little experience and short tenures, will only create more confusion and appeals—"If you build by chaos, even if you’re right in what you construct, it’s going to crumble." As both Australia and the United States confront the pressures of technology, politics, and access to justice, the future of their courts hangs in the balance. The choices made now will shape not only legal outcomes but the very fabric of democracy and fairness for years to come.