Kim Kardashian’s success in law proves her misogynistic haters wrong

Kim Kardashian has once again found herself at the heart of a tidal wave of criticism – only this time it seems to be totally unwarranted.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ll know that the reality TV star has just completed California’s rigorous law apprenticeship path, passed the ‘baby bar,’ and graduated from the same legal system she’s worked within for years to fight unjust incarceration.

It’s a feat that few could accomplish. So why, therefore, instead of applause, is Kim facing mockery and ridicule?

The answer: misogyny, elitism, and resentment of a woman who refuses to stay in the box she was put in.

Her critics on X claim that Kardashian ‘paid for her degree’ or took a ‘run-around’ route, but, let’s be clear, California’s legal apprenticeship path is not a shortcut.

It’s one of the oldest and most grueling routes to becoming a lawyer, requiring thousands of supervised study hours, passage of the First-Year Law Students’ Examination (commonly called the ‘baby bar’), and ultimately will end in her taking the same Bar Exam as law school graduates. 

And she’s done all that while simultaneously producing television, running a multimillion-dollar business empire, and raising four children.

Yes, she pursued this from a place of immense wealth and privilege, but isn’t it admirable when someone with no financial incentive and nothing to prove chooses to dedicate their time and energy to something larger than themselves, simply to help improve society?

Isn’t this exactly the kind of influence we should want celebrities to wield? 

We often complain that celebrity culture is shallow or self-serving, but Kim Kardashian has repeatedly used her platform in extraordinary ways to advocate for criminal justice reform in the past. 

Through her initiative, she’s brought resources to issues that receive far too little sustained attention from politicians (let alone pop culture figures), such as the injustices of mass incarceration, wrongful convictions, and sentencing inequities.

Her work has also led to the release of multiple people serving what I can only describe as unfair prison sentences, including Alice Marie Johnson. She’s a grandmother and first-time nonviolent offender who had been sentenced to life in prison without parole for her role in a drug trafficking operation.

How is it then fair that when one of the most famous women in the world chooses to use her fame to fight for the voiceless (and does the intellectual and emotional labour to back it up) she’s mocked for not being ‘serious’ enough?

Much of the criticism reeks of a kind of snobbery. The idea that only those who take the traditional law school route are worthy of respect ignores the long American history of legal apprentices, including Abraham Lincoln, who doesn’t normally find himself having much in common with a Kardashian. 

Apprenticeship paths are still recognised in multiple states because they allow working people (especially those without access to elite institutions) to enter the profession. That path is especially relevant in a time when law school debt can exceed six figures.

But underneath this criticism is something even more toxic that is often at play when it comes to cultural opinions on the Kardashians: misogyny. 

Detractors of this family don’t just question her non-traditional route into the legal profession; they question her right to be taken seriously at all. 

They reduce her to her body, her beauty, and her brand. There’s an unspoken rule here: if you’ve made your name in reality TV that was originally created after a sex tape made you famous, if you’ve built a brand around femininity and being a sex symbol, you’re not allowed to be serious or smart. 

Yet if she were a man – someone who built such a massive business, leveraged fame into political influence, and committed to a years-long educational pursuit – she’d be called a genius and an entrepreneur with brilliant acumen.

We’ve seen it too many times before. Women in public life are expected to prove themselves in ways men simply aren’t.

They are expected to apologise for ambition, downplay their success, and stay in their lane – particularly if they’ve been culturally positioned as sex symbols. 

Angelina Jolie, for example, was a critically acclaimed actress who happened to be beautiful and open about her sensuality. As a result, as she aged, she had to work hard to be taken seriously as a humanitarian and director.

In contrast, male actors transitioning to directing are often immediately treated as auteurs, without seemingly needing to prove moral or emotional ‘growth.’

Or take Sydney Sweeney, who is relentlessly accused of dating her male co-stars and hyper sexualised. The idea that her confidence in her appearance somehow diminishes her complexity or credibility is, not only outdated, but also deeply reductive.

When female celebrities are unapologetic about their achievements, the backlash often comes disguised as legitimate critique, when the reality is that a man would never face the same pigeonholing. 

Of course, it’s fine to question the role of celebrity in politics and justice reform. Skepticism is healthy, and the Kardashians’ brand of hyper-consumerism and perpetuation of unhealthy beauty standards are worth questioning. 

But dismissing Kim Kardashian’s achievements outright doesn’t just undermine her work, it also discourages others – especially women – from using their power to fight for something bigger than themselves.

So yes, this reality star then legal apprentice didn’t go to traditional law school, but she still accomplished something – with the intention of making herself better capable of changing a broken system.

And that’s far more than her critics have even attempted. 

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing James.Besanvalle@metro.co.uk. 

Share your views in the comments below.