Letting the side down

Last weekend I went to the CBA (Criminal Bar Association) Conference in the lovely city of Birmingham. I had been looking forward to it for some time, partly because I’m fond of Brum, partly because it was lots of CPD points for relatively little cash and partly (or mostly) because it meant a city-break with my best buddy (also a criminal hack) who will henceforth be nicknamed Partner in Crime.

On Saturday morning we sat down in a Birmingham University lecture theatre for the first talk, given by none other than the Attorney General, Lord Goldsmith QC. I’d seen him speak a couple of years previously at a Young Bar event (we barristers know how to live!) and had enjoyed it, so my hopes were high. How wrong I was! Firstly, there was absolutely no hint of enthusiasm on his part. His speech was delivered in a dry, tediously soporific monotone as though the last couple of years had drained all the life out of him. (Perhaps they had. Maybe if he’s feeling the pressure, he should step down from the process of deciding whether or not to prosecute his mates, but I digress…) Worse, though, was the subject matter.

Many criminal barristers have been tearing their hair out at the recent proliferation of CPS Higher Courts Advocates (HCAs). These in-house lawyers have started doing a great deal of crown court hearings. It started with preliminary hearings, but has spread to PCMHs (Plea and Case Management Hearings, for the uninitiated), committals for sentence and (eek!) even the odd trial! Some of these are very good advocates and even more are very nice people. But there are some who are, frankly, awful and they are snaffling a lot of work. The most annoying thing is that they conduct PCMHs and only brief counsel if the defendant enters a not guilty plea and there needs to be a trial. Then you get a case that hasn’t been prepared properly in its early stages, since the person preparing it has missed obvious points.

The AG droned on at length about how brilliant CPS were and how well these “employed barristers” were doing. There is, we were told, only one Bar, which encompasses both self-employed (i.e. proper) barristers and those who work in house. Gerenally speaking, I don't really object to this. Then he went on to hint that it is mean-spirited for the self-employed Bar to resent those with the same qualifications as us gaining the same experience, including conducting trials. I don’t resent people with the same qualifications as me doing the same or better work. What I resent is people who tried and failed to succeed in a Chambers (or as a solicitor advocate), joining the CPS as part of their “we’ll take anyone” recruitment drive and doing work of a far higher level than CPS would ever have allowed them to do had they remained in private practice.

There were other subjects too, but I should probably move on. After he’d finished his speech he left straight away without taking any questions. A canny move and lucky escape, as tensions were running high. Partner in Crime was on the edge of her seat, itching to give him a piece or her mind! Happily, the day improved and in the course of it there were some great lectures. The AG was immediately followed by the shadow AG, Dominic Grieve, who was a brilliant speaker, though perhaps more anecdotal than he could have been. He also spoke against the AG’s suggestion that junior criminal barristers might one day as a matter of course train in CPS and spend a few years there before moving into the self-employed Bar. The day wasn’t supposed to be political, but I think he might have won the Conservatives a few votes. I, a lifelong leftie, shuddered to think that the unthinkable may be happening – I have lost so much faith in our government due to the mess it's making of the criminal justice system that I may be turning Tory. To think it should come to this…

Back to school

For most of us, today was the first day back in court after a four-day Easter break. Maybe it's partly because the sun was shining outside, but there was a real gloominess about the Crown Court I was in, just like the beginning of a new school term. As well as chatting about what we'd been up to over Easter and general robing room gossip, there was some discussion about reported plans to abolish wigs in civil, family and commercial proceedings. Lord Phillips of Worth Matravers (the Lord Chief Justice) has declared that they contribute to the public perception that lawyers and judges are out of touch. Wigs and gowns will, however, continue to be worn in criminal cases. Obviously it doesn't matter whether or not people unfortunate enough to become involved in either side of the criminal justice system think that lawyers and judges are out of touch!

I have mixed feelings about court dress. On the one hand, robes are another thing to carry around and in summer are not the most comfortable thing to wear. In one of my recent forays into the civil courts a judge decided to dispense with robes, which I quite liked. On the other hand, they do help maintain anonymity to a certain, albeit limited, degree. I've been told several times by clients who see me without my wig and gown on that they barely recognise me. Also, wigs are a great leveller. When you're two minutes' call and up against somebody who's been at the Bar longer than you've been alive it somehow helps that you're dressed the same - not just because it improves your confidence but because it improves your client's confidence in you. It's quite difficult to be taken seriously by some old lags when you're a fresh-faced young thing (oddly, this is a problem I've experienced less and less lately) and wearing a wig definitely helps.

On balance, I'm in favour of keeping wigs and gowns. I know that tradition alone is not a reason to hang onto something pointless but once traditions are dispensed with there's no going back. And for all that they're old-fashioned and odd-looking, wearing a wig does mean you don't have to make any effort with your hair in the morning and if that isn't a good reason to keep them, I don't know what is.

The Old Guard v Ally

Like most other sets, the Chambers I'm in has a real variety of people as members. Being a friendly sort of person, I get on with most other tenants - in fact, I can only think of one person I actively dislike. There is, however, a small but influential group that frequently annoys me. All its members are middle-aged or slightly older men who love nothing more than a good old moan either about how the Bar's not what it used to be or about petty Chambers problems. Being fond of a good moaning session myself (especially about work), I could forgive them this, but there are also strong elements of sexism and classism in these people. I think of the group as The Old Guard, which I suspect they would quite like.

The other day, I was minding my own business catching up on some papers when one of The Old Guard entered. Most people knock before going into each others' rooms but this chap didn't, which irritated me slightly. "Ah, beagle! Got a minute?" he boomed and before I could say, "no, not really," he was settling himself into my roommate's chair and telling me he needed to talk to me about Ally.

Ally (so nick-named in tribute to my inspiration, Ms McBeal) is one of our two pupils and has recently started her second six. She and I have always got on very well and, whilst I haven't seen her in court yet, I think she will do well. I wondered whether this old buffer had been against her on a mention or something and formed a different view. Alas, nothing so straight-forward...

Turns out she'd started wearing (gasp!) knee-high boots to work. The Old Guard were horrified at this and thought that I should have a word with her. I suggested that her pupil master might be a better person than me, but he was adamant it should be a fellow "young woman". I didn't think it was appropriate for me to start lecturing pupils on how to dress and, whilst I hadn't seen these boots, she always looks perfectly smart to me anyway. Old Buffer then asked me if I would have a look at the boots in question and say whether I thought they were appropriate or not. I said I was too busy and he went out in a huff.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Ally entered, saying that Old Buffer had told her I wanted to speak to her. Furious with him (though at the same time grudgingly admiring of the old pro) I made up some nonsense about pupillage checklists and, trying not to be too obvious, studied the boots. Unfortunately they did look a bit tarty, so now I have to choose between openly agreeing with The Old Guard or siding with Ally.

When I started this job I knew I would have to make some tough decisions but I never thought they would involve passing judgment on pupils' footwear. Hopefully I'll manage to avoid The Old Guard long enough for them to find something else to get upset about.

Turbulent times

Ever since pupillage, I've only ever really done criminal work. As many people involved in this area know, we criminal hacks currently live in troubled times. Not only is there widespread unrest about fees (things are set to change next month when the long-awaited new fees structure comes into operation), there is also less work around than previously. This is largely due to the CPS having employed a number of in-house advocates (HCAs, which stands for Higher Courts Advocates) who are covering an increasing amount of work. So what's the beagle to do?

Part of me (in fact, most of me) wants to just ride this rough period out and trust that things will improve. Inevitably, the criminal bar will shrink and hopefully people who stick things out now will be OK in the future. I did think about jumping ship and looking for an in-house job, but that was just a moment of madness. So I've hatched a secret plan to tide me over.

I had a discreet chat to some civil colleagues and our two civil clerks and am about to start taking on civil work. At 5 years' call I reckon I'm still just about junior enough to start a new area of practice. I have made it clear that I only want easy cases to begin with and that I still want to keep my criminal practice going. Next week I have a fast track trial, which seems simple enough, though I might well be missing a crucial point or two! It's a contractual dispute over a few grands' worth of unpaid invoices. I've dug out my civil notes from the BVC and borrowed a copy of the Civil Procedure Rules. How hard can it be? Either I'll crash and burn, in which case I'll develop a new respect for my civil colleagues, or I'll add an extra string to my bow which can't be a bad thing. Maybe I'll grow to love commercial disputes, though I'll be surprised if they're as much fun as jury trials. Watch this space...

The beagle is back

Apologies for such a long absence! I spent the whole of last week prosecuting a trial at a court miles away and never seemed to find time to blog. The trial was all about a big feud between neighbours which culminated in a night of wanton violence. As is usually the case, the winners were prosecuted! We had all sorts of fun during the trial, including jurors making complaints about witnesses following them, the officer in the case mistakenly telling witnesses there was nothing to prevent them sitting in the public gallery before they gave their evidence (thankfully the CPS rep managed to stop them in the nick of time) and, best of all, the Legal Beagle and CPS rep being told by the complainant that they were "just as bad as the pigs". Charming! On the plus side, I had a lovely opponent and the fact that the trial overran by two days prevented me from doing all sorts of other bits of rubbish on Thursday and Friday.

Regular readers (assuming I have any) will know that I was dreading a trip to the Court of Appeal (see Would your lordships give me a moment?). The much-worried-about hearing took place a week and a half ago. Happily, the appeal was allowed, though their lordships did describe the goings on in the court below as "unhappy circumstances" which was mildly embarrassing! All in all, it went far better than expected and I left court wondering why I'd fretted about it quite so much. I do wonder if I'll ever reach a stage in my career where I don't have the sort of nervous panics that are better suited to somebody about to get on their feet for the very first time. I really hope so!

Monday misery...

I have had an entirely pointless morning today. After spending a significant amount of the weekend preparing a trial, I arrived at court bright and early this morning and after a chat to my opponent, a nice woman I hadn't met properly before, I set off to the cells to see if my client had arrived on the prison van. So far as today's case was concerned he's been on bail but he was in custody for other matters at another court. The staff in the cells said he wasn't there and they weren't expecting him. My solicitor then arrived at court bearing the news that, yes, he had been in custody on other matters but he had been granted bail on Friday. Unfortunately for him (and for me) he had been arrested at his home address on Saturday morning and was being taken to a Magistrates court about 60 miles away this morning (when the police arrest people over the weekend and keep them in custody, they need to be produced at the local Magistrates court on Monday morning). So my trial had to be adjourned. When this sort of thing happens in civil cases, the barristers still get paid their brief fee. Not so in crime - I shall get paid the princely sum of £46.50 for my efforts. Aside from my financial gripes and wasted weekend, all the witnesses came to court, the court itself will now be empty today and this sorry mess will cost quite a bit of public money.

It's not all rosy for my civil brethren, though. I got back to Chambers to find a colleague looking very annoyed. He'd been sent the papers last week for a personal injury case due to be heard tomorrow. He'd prepared it fully and had even sent a written advice, only to receive a telephone call from the solicitors this morning asking for the brief back as they'd sent duplicate instructions to somebody in another set of Chambers a month ago but only realised their mistake this morning! This means he's likely to be out of court tomorrow (as I may well be too - my trial was supposed to last 2 days!). Technically, he'd be entitled to bill his solicitors the agreed fee since it's entirely their mistake. I think he ought to do this, not only because he deserves to be paid but also because it might mean the solicitors are more careful next time. Others think that in order to keep the solicitors sweet he should either bill half or nothing at all. I can see their point, but if they have any principles at all, they should have no objection to paying up.

All in all, not a very good start to the week!

Want a pupillage? Then read this...

Being a junior(ish) criminal barrister, I'm always up for thankless tasks which are both time-consuming and tedious. This is why I am on our Chambers' pupillage committee. The closing date for applications isn't until summer but they are already pouring in. Although we consider them all at the same time, after the closing date, I do flick through them as they arrive before filing them away. As anybody on the legal scene knows, competition for pupillages is fierce and applicants need to stand out. We get loads of great applications and it saddens me that many good candidates will be unlucky as there simply aren't enough places for everybody. We also get a fair few applications which don't make it very far in the selection process. Some of these are just awful and I have a fair amount of sympathy for the people who send them, as they have invested a lot of time and money in a career which, realistically, is unachievable. Others are let down by a few basic errors. As this is the time of year when future barristers (and future McDonald's employees) start sweating over their pupillage applications, I thought I'd try to help by highlighting some of the most common mistakes applicants make and giving some advice on how to improve applications. So here we go with some top tips for pupillage success:

1. Learn when to use "practice" and when to use "practise";

2. Learn how to spell "pupillage" (yes, really);

3. Make sure you know what Chambers are asking for. We ask for a handwritten covering letter but every year about 25% of the letters we get are typed. Some Chambers have their own application forms, in which case they won't want to wade through CVs and letters;

4. Even if your A-level results are rubbish, don't just leave them out on your CV, otherwise we'll just assume they are anyway. If there's a reason for poor exam results then say so (provided it's a good reason, not just that your cat died);

5. Make it clear that your decision to be a barrister is an informed one. Don't just tell us that your mini-pupillages confirmed your decision to practise, say what you learned from them. Show that you have a realistic expectation of what pupillage will be like (you could do a lot worse than read pupilblog, which is a very accurate portrayal);

6. If that all sounds obvious, then you're probably a good candidate anyway. If it all sounds like too much hassle then do a more deserving applicant a favour and drop out now!

Hope that helps! Of course, if you are one of the talented but unlucky ones, you're sure to find a well-paid proper job with security, holiday pay etc. so will eventually have the last laugh!