In the town of Oberlin, Kansas, the brick roads of Penn Avenue evoke the feeling of an old West cow town. For Steve Hirsch, these streets are more than a scenic backdrop; they are his office. At 64, Hirsch serves as the county attorney for four different counties and the city attorney for 20 separate communities across western Kansas. His portfolio doesn’t stop at the law; he files income tax returns, manages estates, and holds membership in nearly every civic organization in town.
Hirsch is what rural communities call a “pillar”—a generalist who provides the essential legal infrastructure that keeps small municipalities functioning. But as Hirsch nears retirement, his situation highlights a precarious trend sweeping across the Great Plains. The lawyers who hold these multifaceted roles are aging out, and there are far too few young attorneys willing to step into their shoes.
Kansas is now facing a systemic crisis of “legal deserts,” where residents must travel hours to find basic legal representation. To combat this, state lawmakers have launched a targeted financial incentive program designed to lure a new generation of lawyers away from the high-paying, specialized firms of Topeka and Lawrence and into the wide-open spaces of rural Kansas.
The Rise of the Rural Legal Desert
The term “legal desert” isn’t just descriptive; it’s a metric of systemic failure. According to a 2024 report from the Rural Justice Initiative Committee, nearly half of the state’s rural counties now qualify as legal deserts. Kansas Supreme Court Justice KJ Wall has noted that this number is actively increasing, with over a dozen more counties added to the list since the initiative began.
The impact on the average citizen is stark. Data from the Legal Services Corporation indicates that at least three-quarters of rural households face at least one civil legal issue every year. Despite this, more than 85% of those households do not receive adequate legal help. When a county lacks a resident attorney, the ripple effects are felt in every corner of civic life, from property disputes and probate work to the basic administration of city ordinances.
The shortage has created a burnout cycle for the few remaining practitioners. Shawn Leisinger, Associate Dean at Washburn University Law, points out that the lack of local counsel forces criminal defense attorneys to travel across two, three, or even five counties just to fulfill basic court appointments. This inefficiency strains the judicial system and leaves rural defendants with less consistent representation.
A Financial Bridge to Rural Practice
The barrier to entry for rural practice is primarily economic, and cultural. Urban law firms offer specialization and salaries that rural municipalities simply cannot match. The modern law student is often trained for a niche—corporate mergers, intellectual property, or high-stakes litigation—whereas a rural lawyer must be a “jack-of-all-trades.”
To bridge this gap, Kansas has implemented a two-pronged financial strategy administered through the Kansas Department of Commerce and the Office of Rural Prosperity. The goal is to lower the financial risk for young attorneys transitioning into these underserved areas.
| Incentive Tier | Benefit Amount | Requirement |
|---|---|---|
| Law Students | $3,000 Stipend | Commitment to practice in a rural area post-graduation |
| Practicing Attorneys | $20,000 per year | Active service in a rural area (up to five years) |
By offering up to $100,000 over five years to practicing lawyers, the state is attempting to offset the lower average salaries found in rural districts, making the “rural mindset” a more viable career path for those who value community impact over corporate ladders.
More Than a Legal Practitioner
The role of a rural attorney extends far beyond the courtroom. Kansas Court of Appeals Chief Judge Sarah Warner describes these lawyers as the “backbone of civic culture.” Without them, municipalities are less informed, and the resources available to citizens in crisis vanish.
For Steve Hirsch, the job is as much about friendship as it is about the law. “I tell young attorneys that you’re more than an attorney to these people, you are a friend,” Hirsch says. “You will end up being their pallbearer at their funerals.”
This level of integration is what attracts a small but dedicated group of newcomers. Noah Hahs, an Overland Park native, made the jump to northwestern Kansas after a stint in Dodge City. While he jokes about driving 30 minutes into Nebraska to find “the good chicken,” he finds a professional freedom in rural practice that is nonexistent in the city. “Out here, there’s really an opportunity for whatever you want,” Hahs says. “It’s almost easier to say what I don’t do than what I do.”
Similarly, Corey Dipman, a Washburn Law student and former Navy veteran, is spending his summers under Hirsch’s mentorship in Oberlin. Dipman’s goal is specific: he intends to run for county attorney in Gove County, where the sole remaining resident attorney is planning to retire.
The Path Forward
The success of these incentives will depend on whether the financial lure is enough to overcome the lifestyle shift. Moving to a legal desert requires a willingness to forgo big-box stores and specialized professional circles in exchange for high-profile leadership roles early in a career. For the right candidate, the opportunity to serve as a city or county attorney immediately after law school is a quick track to civic influence that would take decades to achieve in a metropolitan firm.
Disclaimer: This article is provided for informational purposes only and does not constitute legal or financial advice.
The incentive programs are scheduled to begin implementation in late fall. The Kansas Department of Commerce will be the primary point of contact for eligible law students and attorneys seeking to apply for stipends and annual payments.
Do you think financial incentives are enough to solve the rural professional shortage? Share your thoughts in the comments or share this story with a legal professional.
