It was an excitable Linklaters press release last week that announced its managing partner Gideon Moore had recently met with a senior Catholic Church official to discuss same-sex relationship discrimination in the Caribbean.

Moore was part of a delegation from a coalition of companies arguing that inclusive and diverse societies are better for business and economic growth. Moore's quote explained how it was an "honour" to attend the private audience and he was "proud that Linklaters is committed to LGBT equality and inclusion".

Hooray for Linklaters, or so it seems. The firm's eagerness to shout about its involvement in this event is a good example of all firms' readiness to espouse their commitment to diversity of all kinds. But look at the clients they act for and the picture becomes decidedly more murky.

Last year, Linklaters acted on two significant hotel deals – one for Saudi Arabian sovereign wealth vehicle the Public Investment Fund (PIF), and the other for Qatari state-backed fund Katara Holdings.

In both countries, homosexuality is punishable by death.

The contrast between the two could not be more stark. The fact that the Magic Circle firm is celebrating its minority-supporting behaviour while working closely with state-backed entities from such regimes makes its commitment to diversity feel rather hollow.

Linklaters global diversity manager Daniel Danso acknowledges that there is a conversation to be had on the issue, and says younger employees coming into the firm raise similar questions. To them, he says he points to the firm's own track record with diversity initiatives to show what a business can be.

This is not just a Linklaters problem of course. Morgan, Lewis & Bockius advised PIF on an investment last year too, and a vast swathe of top firms count state-linked oligarchs and oppressive regimes as clients.

Some firms have shown it is possible to stop acting for clients because of reputational or moral issues. Gibson Dunn & Crutcher stopped lobbying on behalf of Saudi Arabia against U.S. legislation affecting oil-producing countries, after the alleged killing of dissident Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi last year. And Mishcon de Reya quit as adviser to Brexit campaigning group Leave.EU over its appeal against its £70,000 fine from the Electoral Commission in 2018.

Such examples are rare though. Many would also argue it is not a law firm's job to take a stance on a client's ethics – and that if they did, they would be left with a sparse client list. Danso states that the firm has to be "realistic about absolutism" when it comes to who it works with, adding that similar concerns could be raised about the U.K. due to its chequered past when it comes to LGBT rights.

Yet it is not unreasonable to think that law firms should think twice before trumpeting their pro-minority stance if there is an apparent clash.

This is not to say firms should not have private meetings with senior figures in the Catholic Church about these things. Perhaps that gathering will yield some tangible results.

But rather than talking about itself, a better starting point for a law firm might be to acknowledge how problematic some of its clients are and to explain what it is doing to push back against them. After all, its position as a top-tier adviser is arguably more effective than its role as an employer.

When quizzed on the topic, Danso recalls that when the firm introduced an LGBT and ally network across its Asia offices, some local clients reacted negatively. He says the firm did challenge them, and "put its neck on the line" to defend itself.

More stories like these plus examples of firms offering financial assistance or pro bono advice to support charities fighting oppressive laws would be refreshing.

Because that is where the real proof of commitment lies. It might not produce the same headlines, but it would certainly be more powerful than a self-congratulatory press release.