A decade after graduating near the top of her class at Lewis & Clark Law School and starting a career as a public defender in Hillsboro, Amanda Alvarez Thibeault is overcome with financial worry.

She hasn’t been able to pay down any of the principal from her law school loans, which have swelled with interest to $240,000. She and her husband haven’t put any money into a college savings account for their elementary-school-aged daughter. And Thibeault says her retirement account is so insignificant that it would only cover a few months of living expenses in her golden years.

“My biggest nightmare is I’m going to have to do this until I drop dead,” Thibeault said. “And I don’t think our counterparts – prosecutors – have those fears.”

Thibeault’s uneasiness is echoed by leagues of public defenders who represent defendants who can’t afford a lawyer but are constitutionally guaranteed one in state courts across Oregon. They were drawn to this area of law almost as it were a calling, but years or decades into their careers are butting up against a cold, harsh truth: They are among the lowest paid lawyers in their profession — typically making between $65,000 and $115,000 a year. That’s less than half of what many of their counterparts garner in private practice, and tens of thousands less that what many government-paid prosecutors make.

And that’s a chief reason many have been leaving public defense in droves, leading to historic shortages that since last year have created gridlock in the circuit courts of close to one-third of the state’s counties. The exodus also has captured the attention of the Oregon Legislature — which will consider a slate of potential fixes this session, including one ambitious idea that’s been floated: doubling public defenders’ pay.

The pressure to retain existing public defenders and draw back former ones is on: More than 700 defendants charged with crimes ranging from shoplifting to attempted murder and rape currently await court-appointed public defenders. Some of them have been waiting months. Since last year, Multnomah County has dismissed more than 300 mostly non-violent criminal cases because of the lack of defense lawyers.

The dismissals have prompted widespread angst that the crisis is emboldening some felony offenders, especially car thieves, who are the most likely to see their charges dismissed.

Oregon lawmakers have pledged that this legislative session will be the one they overhaul a system some legislators acknowledge has been ailing — and ignored — for decades.

“The can can’t continue to get kicked down the road,” said Sen. Floyd Prozanski, D-Eugene.

More than 20 bills have been introduced so far. Many are “placeholders” that don’t call for substantial action but that lawmakers plan to amend before the session ends in June.

Public defenders across the state are paying close attention. Some say if they don’t see big changes this session, they will leave for more highly compensated legal fields.

“Resoundingly, yes — I think many public defenders are carefully watching this legislative session and are hanging on to see if there is significant progress,” said Carl Macpherson, executive director of Metropolitan Public Defender, the largest publicly funded defense firm in the state.

A pay boost?

Many proponents for change say solving Oregon’s public defense shortage comes down to one simple solution: Raising pay.

But by how much? And, with competing priorities from schools to housing, is there the political will to spend the money?

First, legislators will need to understand how much the state already is compensating public defenders. But understanding the numbers is exceptionally complicated. Even the state agency in charge of paying public defenders can’t say how much the majority of them make in a year because they’re paid through hundreds of contracts that vary from lawyer to lawyer.

Rob Harris, who is on the state workgroup tasked with finding solutions to the crisis, has crunched the numbers. He said self-employed public defenders use whatever they get from the state to pay out of pocket for essentials and benefits that lawyers employed by law firms or prosecutors’ offices get on top of their pay. That includes health insurance, liability insurance, support staff and office leases. After subtracting those costs, he estimates 95% of public defenders in Oregon make between $65,000 and $115,000 a year.

Pay disparity extends to public defenders who work in firms, too.

Public defenders employed by Metropolitan Public Defender in Multnomah and Washington counties get paid between $73,000 and $112,000 a year, plus benefits, for representing clients in state court. A small number who are qualified to take on murder cases make up to $129,000.

In comparison, their prosecutorial counterparts make between $86,000 and $215,000 a year in Multnomah, Washington and Clackamas counties, plus benefits. Public defenders who appear in federal court make $74,000 to $184,000 per a year.

Assistant attorney generals with the Oregon Department of Justice make between $93,000 and $194,000 a year. Prosecutors, federal public defenders and justice department attorneys all receive benefits.

Understanding how much public defenders make in state courts gets even more complicated because a small portion are paid hourly, not through flat-fee contracts.

Most of them receive $105 an hour and no benefits, plus they also must pay for their own health insurance, office rent, staff and other costs. But to address the massive shortage of public defenders, the state this month temporarily started paying public defenders between $125 and $200 an hour for representing clients who’ve gone days, weeks or months without a court-appointed attorney.

Even at those rates, the state hasn’t been able to attract enough takers.

Some proponents for change say the state should do away with its byzantine system of contracts and pay all public defenders by the hour — and that pay should be on par with prosecutors or lawyers at the Oregon Department of Justice, who bill $242 an hour. That would amount to a more than doubling of public defenders’ standard rate of $105 an hour.

“I realize that’s a lot of money, but when you look at DOJ’s budget, they’re doing the same work the defense bar is and we ought to be paid the same,” said Jennifer Nash, a former public defender who is now on the Public Defense Services Commission, which oversees the state agency that pays public defenders.

“There’s no justification whatsoever for providing less pay for people who are doing the same work,” she added.

Rep. Paul Evans, D-Monmouth, said the public defender shortage is a true “crisis” that must be fixed. But raising the permanent hourly pay to even $125 an hour will spark a fervent debate.

“I’ve never made that much an hour,” said Evans, a communications instructor at Chemeketa Community College. “Trying to explain to my constituents that $125 an hour is too little to make? Let’s just say that at some point we need to have a realistic conversation about what we can afford to pay versus what people think they deserve.”

While Evans said it might be necessary to “dramatically” increase public defenders’ compensation, many balk at the hourly pay raises that have been floated.

The median wage in Oregon last year was about $23 an hour, according to the Oregon Employment Department.

But legal work is traditionally a high-paying field, with privately retained criminal defense attorneys often charging $300 to $400 an hour.

State budgeteers have yet to provide an overall estimate of how much it’d cost to permanently raise public defenders’ hourly wage to $125 or $242 or some other amount between the two.

The idea of paying public defenders the same as prosecutors is common in many states, according to the non-profit Sixth Amendment Center, which studied Oregon’s public defense structure in 2019. Maine is the most recent state to offer pay parity, said the center’s director, David Carroll.Struggling to get by

During the five years that Nikki Thompson represented indigent clients at a public defense firm in Portland from 2017 to 2022, she says a dark financial cloud hovered over her life.

She took on credit card debt. She had to take on a roommate to make ends meet. And she drove a 20-year-old Honda Civic that she’d bought from her brother at a very discounted price, then worried how she’d ever come up with the money to replace it if it ever broke down.

“As a 37-year-old trying to eke it together, it was hard,” Thompson said.

Last year, she left to become a prosecutor at the Multnomah County District Attorney’s Office, a job that pays significantly more. She said she didn’t leave for the money, but it certainly made her decision easier.

“There was a psychological piece to it where it felt a little bit like I wasn’t a grown-up anymore because I was making so little money,” Thompson said. “And it didn’t feel like I was being respected by the system, certainly not as a professional.”

Thompson stayed in public defense longer than many. A recent analysis found that 60% of lawyers at non-profit public defense firms in Oregon left their jobs over a nearly three-year span. They cited uncompetitive pay and unwieldy caseloads that hindered their ability to provide adequate representation.

“They’re coming in, they’re working a year or two, and they’re moving on,” said Rep. Greg Smith, R-Heppner, during a pre-session discussion among lawmakers that broached the subject of what amount was the right amount to pay public defenders.

“The compensation that these attorneys are receiving, while there’s no doubt from a District 57 perspective, that’s a lot of money,” Smith continued, “in the scope of everything that’s going on, it’s pretty hard to convince an attorney to come in and work at that pay level.”

Outside of that December meeting, legislators have seldom discussed the topic in public.

But there are other issues besides hourly wages to tackle, as well. Many public defenders say the state also must lower their caseloads, though that is unlikely. The director of the state agency that pays public defenders – the Office of Public Defense Services – said during a meeting last month that she won’t ask legislators for an estimated $118 million more to accomplish that because that’s not a realistic option right now.

No bills propose reducing caseloads, either.

But proposals already on the table would address several other issues that could help stem the crisis. Senate Bill 413 and House Bill 2467 — sponsored by Sen. Chris Gorsek, D-Gresham, and Rep. Janelle Bynum, D-Clackamas — propose repaying up to $200,000 of public defenders’ student loans at the rate of $20,000 to $25,000 for each year they work in the field. Senate Bill 322 is among a few bills that seek to change the oversight of Oregon’s public defense commission from the state’s judicial branch to its executive one – an important bureaucratic change, their backers say.

Rep. Kevin Mannix, R-Keizer, is sponsoring House Bill 2140, which would make most public defenders county employees, a change that could result in higher pay for public defenders in some counties. Evans, the Democratic representative from Monmouth, has proposed legislation that could make at least 35% of public defenders state employees, which also could result in heftier salaries for those defenders.

Oregon is one of only two states including New Hampshire that doesn’t employ public defenders as county or state employees. Employing public defenders as government workers allows for far greater oversight and financial accountability, according to the Sixth Amendment Center.

Lisa Ludwig, who is on the commission overseeing Oregon’s public defense system, said public defenders have long accepted that they would be paid far less than most other lawyers.

“Historically, it has been baked into the concept of being a public defender that you’re going to be poorly paid,” said Ludwig, a public defender and lawyer in private practice. “That’s what makes you pure and an underdog. It’s almost a martyrdom.”

But a younger generation less willing to accept that and a market flush with higher paying jobs has led many newer lawyers to steer clear of public defense. The solution, Ludwig said, is more money from the Legislature.

“It’s pretty clear the market has spoken,” Ludwig said, “and the only way to get people to do this work is to pay them more like lawyers.”