Day 21 (week 5): Spineless

The Boss is spineless. He is a yellow coward of the very worst kind. He is a greedy, self-serving scum of the earth parasite who would even give his profession a bad name. He has so little spine that were it not for his starched barrister wing collar, I don’t know how he’d manage to stand up.

It was a criminal case today. They don’t settle. They are a matter of justice one way or the other. The Crown against a particular private individual The state enforcing the laws. The defender arriving and exercising the right to a fair trial. Innocent until proven guilty and all of that. Even plea bargains don’t exist in this country.

Or so I thought. However, I under-estimated even the Boss’ ingenuity in this respect. For once he was at court an hour early. Met up with the client for the first time (two minutes) then with the reconstruction expert (three minutes). Then he was off "to talk to his opponent". I tagged along despite his look of irritation at my doing so. However, in hindsight I realise that it would have looked suspicious if he’d actually asked me not to accompany him, again the usual practice. It was for this reason only that I was once again privy to what I am beginning to believe, no do believe, is a scandal.

The two barristers took themselves away from the rest of the crowd (save for me) and then started chatting. Turns out that the prosecutor used to go out with a particular member of our own Chambers who the Boss does not get on with. Well, that led to a good quarter of an hour’s worth of cruel gossip at her expense. Then it was down to business. "Any chance of reducing it to careless if we were to plead guilty?" "Unlikely, but I could run it past them. Why? Is that an offer?" "Well, I don’t have any instructions but I’m sure I could bring him round to see sense if that was on offer." "OK. I’ll make the call."

Ten minutes later, the prosecutor had called the file handler at the CPS who very reluctantly had agreed to reduce the charge, "in return for me buying her dinner this evening" he smirked. "It’ll give me the rest of the day off which I could do with, actually. Quite a heavy weekend. Just got back from skiing."

That was all the Boss needed. Straight back to the client. Explained the risks of putting this in front of a jury. "Notoriously unpredictable", he said. "Not that I don’t think you’ve got a strong case. You have. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been fighting. But if you can in any way manage that risk before you enter that courtroom, I think we at least have to consider it." The client was, to say the least, reluctant. He had been advised by the last barrister that the case against him was hopeless. "I entirely agree", the Boss said, as he stepped up his settle mode a notch further. "It’s why I would never advise you to pleading guilty to the charge made. However, even if there’s a ten per cent chance that you get yourself in front of a rogue jury – and I’m afraid they do exist – well. It’s your call and I wouldn’t like to seem like I’m trying to persuade you one way or the other…" "…However, if the charge were merely careless driving, the most you’re likely to get is a six month ban. On the other hand, a rogue jury and you’re possibly looking at packing your toothbrush."

This was simply beyond the pale. The man was innocent, of that I was absolutely sure. The other side’s reconstruction report was a shambles and I’m not surprised that the Boss’ opponent was prepared to reduce the charge. It shouldn’t even have got anywhere near the courtroom. I do not pretend to hold myself to the highest of standards and I do not think have the naïve illusions of the Bar that many people may possess. However, even discounting for my already jaded image of the profession, I was ashamed.

Needless to say, it settled. Client only got a two month ban, probably reflecting the fact that the Judge had also read the papers and didn’t think the client was guilty either. The terrible irony of this was that the client left the court raving about how great his "brief" was and how he’d recommend him to all his mates. And to cap it, the Boss left muttering sarcastically, "Yeh, because I so want to build up a criminal hack’s practice".

Back in Chambers by noon. Brief fee, £2,500. Boss away for the rest of the afternoon.


Day 20 (week 4): Information is power

Overheard TopFirst’s pupilmaster talking about him to another member of Chambers today. I was just about to enter their room when I heard them talking. Couldn’t help but listen. "Got him to look up a point on restitution the other day. Still don’t understand it myself but he came up with the answer. Got the prize for it in Cambridge apparently. Not that there’s exactly much call for that sort of thing around here." Then came the interesting bit. "You know his dad was a barrister for a few years." "Yes, I did hear something about that." "Caught with his pants down with a judge’s wife, apparently. No-one would instruct him after that. Knew that judges were always going to be finding against him." "Yes, heard something like that, too. Requalified as a solicitor or something, didn’t he?" At that point I heard one of the clerks coming down the corridor and had to make myself scarce.

All information is power.


Day 19 (week 4): Criminal case

Looks like I will get to see my first criminal case next week. The Boss appears to be the king of the returned brief at the moment and a privately paying road traffic prosecution just came through the doors. Causing death by dangerous driving. Essex businessman driving a Porsche gunning down Marylebone Road at seven in the morning. Knocks over a middle-aged man who obviously didn’t see him coming. Seems like a pretty good defence as the client was driving west with the sun behind him. The man crossing the road was obviously dazzled and was crossing some ten feet before the crossing. The main reason for the prosecution it seems is that there were skid marks on the road and although there is no proof, there is a suggestion that the client was speeding. In fact, it may well boil down to how well the two reconstruction experts perform on the day. Will be good to see the Boss finally fight a case.


Day 18 (week 4): Employment Tribunal

Finally, another court hearing with the Boss today. Actually an employment tribunal. I had been under the impression that the Boss didn’t do any employment work. I was wrong it seemed. He did a hearing (which settled at the door of court) about ten years ago. "It’s just like the small claims track. No real formal procedure. Just a free for all in front of a tribunal who know no better." Well, that was assuring.

Off we trotted to the salubrious surroundings of Croydon employment tribunal. The Boss was for a city worker claiming sex discrimination on the basis that she’d got a smaller bonus than her colleagues. Mysteriously, her former barrister had suddenly become unavailable for today’s hearing only yesterday. Hence the return of the papers to Chambers and their eventual arrival on the Boss’ less than busy desk. The claim was for £80,000 and at first glance at least, looked like a try on. No positive evidence on our part of any actual discrimination. Simply, the client had got less than the average. Further, the average bonus of the three other female employees had been slightly lower than the average of the thirty male colleagues. And? One of those three women had been well above the average. There was hardly a pattern.

Despite this, the Boss had blithely taken on the case on a no-win, no-fee basis. He’d spotted that the other side had made an offer of £10,000 to get rid of the case months ago and therefore once again assumed that it would settle at court.

He was right. £15,000 and the client was told that she was lucky to be getting anything. Overheard the other barrister telling the Boss that he was very keen to settle as he had a Big case starting tomorrow that he’d have to pass up if this one went ahead. No wonder they both seemed rather jolly as they went for a glass of champagne after the case.


Day 17 (week 4): Bluffing

BusyBody is really starting to get on my nerves. I have taken to offering my services to at least one new member of Chambers each day for an extra set of papers but for the last two days in a row, they have mentioned in passing that BusyBody had already offered but that they’d bear it in mind in future. Maybe she spammed all of Chambers with the offer. Maybe she’s been round each individually. Whatever it is, I hope she’s annoying those members of Chambers as much as she is me. I asked her whether she was busy at lunchtime. She replied that her pupilmaster was working her pretty hard. It did feel better hearing a straightforward lie, though. Something quite up front and almost honest in that approach. No attempt to try and muddy the waters and spin her activities in advance. Just straightforward denial. Anyway, we can both play at that game so I told her my pupilmaster was not giving me enough work and so I’d asked the Clerks if they could allocate extra.


Day 16 (week 4): Holidays

Holidays, it seems, are almost not an option for pupils. Kind of like a game of chicken where if one makes the call, the others may follow. However, no-one is prepared to break ranks and go for booking some time out in case they somehow give the impression that they are not desperate to be taken on. Worrier was the one who came asking whether I was taking any time off over Christmas. I said I was thinking about it which was a lie. There are so few opportunities to get any edge at all over the other pupils that all opportunities need to be seized. The Christmas break is a perfect time to pull ahead of at least one of the pupils who will undoubtedly break rank eventually. I suggested that perhaps we both ask our pupilmasters. Yeh, right.


Day 15 (week 3): The Appeal

Saw the Boss actually do some work today. In the grand and historical surroundings of the Lord Mayor’s Court, no less. His opponent spent an hour setting out his grounds of appeal and putting his arguments to the judge who looked decidedly unimpressed. Then it was the Boss’ big moment. He stood up and offered my Skeleton Argument to the Judge. “I’ve summarised my case in there, Your Honour. Do you have any questions arising from the points made?”

The answer came back no.

And that was it. He won, got his costs (£3,000 for the hearing, £1,500 for the Skeleton Argument) and was away.


Day 14 (week 3): So much for Atticus Finch

Not sure why I’m keeping this blog but I have to admit that I’m enjoying it as one of the few outlets in an otherwise extremely dull world at present. It’s Thursday evening and the rest of the world is warming up for the weekend. Not so for BabyBarista. No. Drafting a Skeleton argument for an appeal which the Boss has tomorrow afternoon in Mayor’s and City of London Court. To be fair, since he did the case at first instance he actually seemed like he knew what he was talking about in this case in the five minute introduction he gave me before swanning off at 3pm. It’s now 11pm and I’m still struggling through three House of Lords’ authorities on measure of loss. This was not the reason I came to the Bar. Though come to think of it, I’m not sure why I did. Anyway, I do know that it wasn’t to be slaving away on a Thursday evening over obscure points of law hardly anybody even cared about when they were first decided. On behalf of an arrogant Pupilmaster and an insurance company, making sure that a disabled old lady doesn’t get an extra £20,000 loss of earnings. So much for Atticus Finch.

At least tomorrow I may get to see the Boss perform in court. Been three weeks so far and no sign of him even stepping inside of a courtroom. Got close, of course, before the settlement. Obviously, there’ll be no witnesses and cross-examination but still. Might be interesting to see.


Day 13 (week 3): Biding time

It was kind of ok that I wasn’t thanked yesterday for doing all of his work for him. But today, the Boss seems in some way to resent me for the fact that he got drunk yesterday. Go figure. We are definitely not going to get on and that’s clear to both of us. However much of a snidey creep I can try and be, it’s not going to wash with the Boss and so my only hope is that eventually I simply earn a little respect.

Alternatively, I play on his weaknesses and give him no option but to support me. Plenty of raw material in that respect. Just means I need to watch for opportunities. For now, all I can do is continue to make the coffee, albeit sullenly, photocopy efficiently and bide my time.


Day 12 (week 3): Paranoia

I have worked out that today I have done around £4,000 worth of work for the Boss. He was sent a whole load of cases in which he was asked to draft proceedings. Each one was a car case and except for the dates and precise amounts, they were almost identical. 18 months worth of whiplash injury (apparently that’s around £3,500), around £10,000 for hiring a replacement car and £5,000 damage to the car. He has a precedent for this sort of thing which he made a bog deal of showing me. Like somehow this was the magic which he added to the case. Hardly. I do understand why he was concerned to try and justify some input though as once I’d got through the 20 sets of papers (£200 a shot), he didn’t even check them. Straight out with the DX back to the solicitors.

In the meantime, the Boss had important business to be getting on with. One of the few solicitors who provides him with any decent work was in town today and expected the works. Lunch was therefore taken at 11.30am and the Boss wasn’t seen again until 5pm. Not surprising that he didn’t check the work really given the state he was in by that time. Made some snide remark about no amount of work he does is enough to please his wife and left. District Line to Parsons Green.

It seems to me that for all their supposed independence, most barristers live in a state of complete paranoia and spend so much time kowtowing to solicitors who deign to give them favour that their independence is worth even less than their pride.


Day 11 (week 3): OldRuin

The Boss was back with a vengeance today. He’s got kids aged 5 and 3 and is already stumping up thousands in school fees. On top of that according to a comment I picked up from the Head Clerk on Friday, he has a wife with expensive taste. “He won’t be able to afford not to be back in on Monday with the Christmas holiday his wife is demanding.” However, despite his three days off, he looked a little ragged when he strolled in this morning. Some comment mid-morning about the kids keeping him up. Not my place to ask so I just kept my head down.

Met the Boss’ room-mate for the first time today. He’s about sixty-five and has been practising for over forty years. Although in his time he was pretty successful, he apparently fell into the trap of many barristers, particularly of his generation and spent what he earned and now can’t afford to retire. This means that he’s left between the rock a the hard place. He’s not working hard enough to get the juicy briefs which pay the decent cash and so he has to work pretty hard to bring in anything at all from the scraps which are now passed on from the likes of the Boss. Apparently he was the Boss’ pupilmaster. Anyway, all in all a very charming man. He was in his “country clothes” as he said today. “Just arrived in on the 8.15am to Waterloo.” Lives somewhere down in Hampshire and has the air himself of a dilapidated country pile, gently harking back to better times but too modest to mention them. In fact, we shall call him OldRuin from now on.

What I liked about him most of all was that he was the very first person in Chambers to offer to make me coffee.

I of course declined.


Day 10 (week 2): Worrier

I don’t imagine that every Friday is going to be so easy but the Boss is still on his rest following his lucrative settlement on Tuesday. So far, I’ve got through three sets of papers for three different members of chambers. However, I fear that BusyBody has the same idea. I’m kicking myself for even imagining that it was somehow original. It’s obvious that this is one long lobbying session of members of chambers and there are, I guess, a very limited number of strategies which can be deployed. I shall have to endeavour to add a little originality in future.

The only pupil I havn’t mentioned so far is someone for these purposes I shall call Worrier. In many ways, her nervous tendencies will probably make her a very good lawyer. However, they can also drive you simply to wanting to shout ‘Stop’. Enough is enough. No more worry. Just get on with it. No detail is too small for Worrier. Do you think I should put a full stop here, a comma there? However, I have to admit that out of the three others, I see her as the only possible ally. She is the most impressionable and easily led and I have recognised early on that this may well come in useful.

I don’t want to sound harsh but I didn’t set the rules. In fact I think the whole pupillage thing it a farce. But if it’s there, don’t expect us not to try and win. And definitely don’t blame us if people get hurt along the way.

It’s only a game.


Day 9 (week 2): Utter barristers

Today I am feeling a little the worse for wear. Last night was my ‘call night’, the time when I was officially ‘called to the Bar’. Technically called to the ‘utter’ or ‘outer’ Bar. So I’m an ‘utter barrister’ or something like that. Anyway, we all queued up in Inner Temple Hall and marched up in front of our families and various members of the great and the good to officially be made barristers. Be given the right to wear the wig and gown.

It was all explained though for the life of me, I still don’t understand it. Maybe it’s a variation on South Park’s ‘Chewbacca Defence’, something designed to befuddle and confuse. Who knows. Remember the scene in Pulp Fiction when they tried explaining Dutch marujana laws. Something like that but centuries older. Let me try. First, inner barristers were students as they sat at the inner tables in Hall. All simple so far and that compares to utter barristers who are juniors and QCs. I’m still there. Then, the next day you trot off to court as an utter barrister along with all your newly found QC buddies. But no. Once at court, they go back to being the inner Bar as they can plead from ‘inside the bar’ in Court.

No, I’m still none the wiser – a phrase incidentally that is worth mentioning in front of any lawyer just to hear them mutter back almost like a Pavlovian reaction, “no but hopefully at least better informed.”

I’m glad we’ve got that settled (just what the Boss said on Tuesday).

Day 8 (week 2): BusyBody

Guess what. No sign of the Boss today. No sign of him for the rest of the week in fact. He figures that he’s got his brief fee for the five day trial and so at the very least after all that hard work he deserves a rest. By jove, he’s earned it. Not that I’m complaining. When the cat’s away…Baby Barrista goes to the library. Well, gets the chance to visit a couple of the libraries actually. Turns out there’s quite a social scene already developed. A little Pupil ecosystem all of its own.

Anyway, today was the first day in which I started my plan to win over each Member of Chambers one by one. I’ve drawn up a list in Excel and have set myself a target of doing at least one piece of work for each of them by the time of the tenancy decision at the end of next September. Of course, this is top secret and specifically designed to steal a march on the other pupils.

Speaking of whom, today, let me introduce you to pupil number 3 who we shall describe as BusyBody. Boy oh boy is she that. Wants to know everyone’s business and more. Wants to interfere, boss and generally organise everyone on the planet. It’s exhausting just watching her so I can’t imagine what it must be like to be whizzing around inside her head. Needless to say she’s been on every student committee and organising body you can imagine and was renowned even before arriving at Bar School. A human whirlwind, unable to sit still. Oh, and an over-achiever on all fronts which makes it even more unbearable. She’s the other one with the Cambridge first. In fact same college as TopFirst, just the year below. Didn’t have time for a masters. Life is short, particularly when you’re BusyBody.

First impressions. On balance, I’m against.


Day 7 (week2): No-win no-fee

Just got back from my first busy day today. The Boss was actually stressed for once and it was all over a no-win no-fee agreement. It was a piece of work which the Boss had signed up to on such an agreement way back when and thought nothing more of it. A stress at work case which he assumed would settle as most of that type of work does. Well, this one didn’t and was promising to end up in a five day bun fight at Central London County Court starting tomorrow. The first big problem was that until last night, truth be told, the Boss really hadn’t ever read the papers particularly carefully. It just seemed the sort of case which was going to settle. Had all the signs. Starter offers from the other side. Time off work for stress in the past for the client which should have put his employers on notice that he was vulnerable. At first blush it all seemed dandy. No such luck. Late last night, the Boss started ploughing through the documents the other side had handed over months ago. Needless to say, I received a late night and rather abrupt phone call asking (ie instructing) me to get in early the next morning.

6am this morning, bleary eyed, I crawled into Chambers and started delving deeper into the disclosure. By the time the Boss arrived at half past eight I’d made a pretty good start and had managed to highlight a couple of good reasons why the other side might not be making the offers which the Boss had anticipated. A few extra-curricular problems from the client which the Boss hadn’t previously picked up on which might scupper our case ob causation. Well, rather than getting any credit for spotting these points, it seems that all day I’ve been seen as the reason why the Boss might be about to lose “forty grand’s worth of fees” as he kept muttering under his breath. As if somehow, it would have been better to have discovered it in the middle of the trial.

With this much money at stake for the Boss, one thing was clear. Settlement was a priority and the quicker the better. Given that his solicitor had twice as much again riding on the case there wasn’t much resistance there. As for the client, the solicitor apparently gave him a call mentioning the difficulties that his other evidence might cause and …well, you do understand. Yes, the client understood. What was he going to do some eighteen hours before his big day in court?

Anyway, all’s well that ends well as far as the Boss was concerned as he’s now a big fat brief fee up. “Fifteen grand on the brief and five for the previous work”. Of, and that’s before the 100% uplift, taking him up to his beloved “forty grand” which is still resonating around my head.

Never take on a lawyer on a no-win no-fee is what I say. Invest now in legal expenses insurance. Pay up front. But whatever you do, don’t let the lawyers start worrying about getting paid. However much they protest otherwise, it’s there in their mind. Not even at the back of their mind. It’s a big fat ugly screaming beast jumping up and down on their head telling them to settle.

Just don't ok. Don't.


Day 6 (week 2): Slough

I’m not sure that I’d follow Betjeman and drop bombs on Slough but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be visiting it too regularly. Sterile, soulless place of modern buildings and a roundabout. Asked the cab driver for the County Court and sure enough, was taken straight to the Magistrate’s Court. I really don’t think I’m the first one to fall for that. Worse though is that he then went on a further drive around Slough only to bring me via a different route to the County Court which turned out to be right next door to the Magistrate’s for once. £12.40 later and with only minutes to spare, no time to argue the point. Junior Tenant was looking a bit stressed. Had his mobile out and looked relieved to see me. “Really glad you’ve arrived”. I need a favour. Can you go and photocopy these documents for me in the court office. No problem at all. Any excuse to have some time to myself.

You might think. Except that I was about to be hit with mini-scam number two even before we got into court. “That’s be £14.20, sir”. “What, these documents are for the court. What do you mean you’re going to charge me? You didn’t tell me that before.” “Been standard policy to charge 10 pence a sheet for over five years now, sir.” “But, but….” There was no choice. Fleeced again.

Then there was the mini-dilemma as to whether to try and get the money back off JuniorTenant. I figured, I think correctly, that he knew what he was doing. Had probably been hit with that one himself and to ask would only risk alienating him at best and losing his vote in the tenancy decision at worst. Pettier things had been known to decided the path of a barrister’s career. A brave face and a slightly worldlier barrister delivered the photocopied bundle to Junior Tenant as he was in conference with his client. “Come in. Have a seat in the corner over there.” You don’t say.

To be fair to Junior Tenant, he’s probably pretty hard up financially himself. He’ll now be paying rent to Chambers and yet he’ll still be building up what they call an age-debt. Traditionally solicitors don’t seem to pay barristers for an average of around six to twelve months. Apparently, this can lead to some pretty hard times even for the best of them. Particularly when after a few years you actually have to start paying tax on what you’ve billed even though sometimes it’s only an off-chance that you’ll even receive it. Pretty rude as far as I can see but it’s something barristers just seem to take. Paranoid that if they stand up and fight, solicitors will go elsewhere. That there’ll always be someone who will break rank and take the work if they start being too demanding.

The joys of being self-employed.


Day 5 (week1): Library life

Found my first Pupil Skive today. Pretty obvious really. Time in the library. “Researching a point”. Found a whole collection of pupils wandering around the library, gossiping and looking like they’d just been let out of jail. What would you give as the collective noun for such a gathering? A giggle? Certainly for some of them. They really are an earnest bunch as a whole. Not a little self-important too. Breathlessly talking about the merits of their respective pupilmasters, the cases that they’re on. Perrrlease. Give up on it won’t you. It’s a job and a pretty menial job at that. Perhaps that’s why they treat it so seriously since if they didn’t they’d realise quite how they’re being exploited. After one week, it seems clear to me that for less than the price of a junior coffee-maker in the local café (not even Starbucks), Chambers gets itself a bunch of dogsbodies who will do all the inconvenient bits of paperwork, not complain at having to spend two hours poring over a photocopier and will offer to make coffee or tea on an hourly basis. Not only that, but come Spring, they have a ready source of cheap labour to keep the solicitors happy with all those small claims hearings which the whole profession seems to treat as loss leaders, ways of bringing in the bigger work.

In the meantime, my contemporaries who went off to City solicitors are dealing with multi-million pound deals and flying off delivering papers to the Middle East whilst those in the City are swanning off on training courses in places like Geneva.

For me, I am to meet the most junior tenant at Slough Count Court at 10am on Molnday morning. Of, the glamour of the Bar.


Day 4 (week 1): Lunch

It’s now Thursday afternoon and this is the first time that I’ve been set some written work to do. I’m therefore sitting at my computer just a few feet away from the Boss writing this blog under the auspices of doing a Particulars of Claim in a workplace liability case. What the Boss doesn’t realise it that I’ve had a precedent emailed over from a fellow pupil in another set which should save me a good couple of hours of work. Time enough then for a short note.

Until now, I have wholly occupied in trundling along behind the Boss and meeting and greeting other pupils. It seems that the way he likes it done is to refuse to acknowledge my presence when he’s with other barristers outside of chambers. We were at lunch yesterday in one of the Halls and he greeted a number of his chums. Some had pupils and the only confirmation that I was not invisible was that there was the perfunctory nod from them. A knowing look, that we’re all in the same boat. Not much fun is it etc. Raised eyebrows and at least there’s some real human interaction.

Did at least learn an important lesson at lunch. Chat was about nothing in particular and after much thought I eventually piped up with something designed to impress only to find that the Boss had decided to speak at the same time. Quick as a flash, he looked at me and pointedly said, “Sorry, after you” with raised eyebrows. It is not the first tikme that I have noticed that his best put downs are in the insincere courtesies he offers around. “No, no, I said. Sorry to interrupt”. “No, I insist,” he replied. “Go ahead”. Well, I was lost for words by that point and could only manage a bit of incoherent ramblings.

Top First was sitting opposite and smirked into his soup. Round one to him.


Day 3 (week 1): Political correctness day

It was political correctness day yesterday. First I had the chat from the Boss. He told me that if I was being sexually harassed that I was to come to him. However, “for the avoidance of any doubt”, he went on without even a hint of irony, if I believed that he was sexually harassing me, I should go to the Head of Chambers. Yes, of course, I said. Certainly. I’ll do that. Must not forget.

Well, the Head of Chambers was quite different. There are two men and two women doing this pupillage and we were all herded into his very grand room. After a brief introduction telling us that Chambers had been founded some sixty years ago and that we were following in a fine line of young barristers before us, he continued. “Now. I’ve got to tell you this. Bar Council regulations and all that. Sexual harassment. Terrible mess. Hope it doesn’t happen. However, if it does, I’m bound to inform you that you should report it either to your pupilmaster or to me. This is without reservation and you should be fully aware that we comply entirely with the bar Council policy on this issue. I’m also bound to tell you that should you make any such complaint it will not be held against you in this Chambers.”

Well, that was that and now we knew.

Except it wasn’t.

“However, I’m probably shouldn’t say this, but it’s meant in the most helpful way. Consider it practical advice from an old hand at the Bar. Bear in mind that whilst you are absolutely within your rights to make any such complaint, in fact more than within your rights, you must not forget also that there are consequences to every action. This is always the case and is no different here. Whatever you do has consequences whether you notice them or not. I can’t say what they’d be in these circumstances but you have to be aware that not all Chambers or barristers are as enlightened as us. Not that they’d actively discriminate against you in those circumstances. It’s just that you should know that they would know. That’s all.”

Welcome to the modern Bar.


Day 2 (week 1): TopFirst

Not a bad start yesterday. No worse than I expected. Was shown around chambers and introduced to the clerks and a number of the other barristers. Much of it a blur. Also met one of the other three pupils. My competition for this year. On average only one in four gets taken on and there is no avoiding the fact that we are directly in competition for that place. Seemed nice enough. Bit of a swot, though. Got a first at Cambridge and even went on to do an LLM. Very quiet although I’ve been told that quiet is not a bad tactic for pupillage. I’ll call him ‘Top First’ for now. Seems strange when you’re training for such an ostensibly outgoing and independent profession that you spend the first year proving your abilities to slime up to the right people and keep out of the way of others.

Had my first chat with the Head Clerk. Consisted of a “Welcome, Sir, your pigeon-hole’s over there. Always make sure you tell us where you are when you’re not with your pupilmaster. Good luck.” Quite an intimidating manner. By far the most impressive person I’ve met in Chambers so far. The other clerks all kept their heads down when he was talking and only peeked up to say “good morning” when he introduced them. A tight ship indeed.
Today, we meet the Head of Chambers.


Day 1 (week 1): The Boss

Well, here it is. Truly the diary of a nobody. A pupil barrister on his first day in Chambers. The letter offering me the place simply told me to arrive for 8.30am in the Clerks Room where I would be introduced to my pupilmaster who, for these purposes, I shall call the Boss. Obviously, I’d already had a brief chat with him on the telephone and I’d checked out his profile online. Educated at Winchester and Trinity College, Cambridge it was a pretty traditional upper middle class barrister background. Upper second in law and the called to the Bar in the Middle Temple in 1988. He’d therefore been a barrister for some eighteen years and I’d found with a bit more of a google search that he was married with two kids. Official interests: chess and tennis.

I’ve been warned about pupillage by those who have gone before. A glorified coffee-maker and under-paid photo-copier are the most common descriptions so far. Such is the Ordeal through which the Bar Council continues to force their brightest and best. Interviews and offers might be sufficient for Goldman Sachs or McKinzies. Not so, the Bar. Twelve months living in close proximity before they decide whether to take you on or not. A sort of upper class reality show in microcosm where every one of your foibles will be analysed, where a blackball system exists such that if you annoy one person, you’re out. As with Big Brother, you’re playing to the lowest common denominator. Attempting to be as inoffensive as possible in the sound knowledge that it won’t be the votes for that get you in but the lack of votes against. Sure, they’ll go through the motions of checking my work and ticking the Bar Council’s Equal Opportunities forms. But the crunch comes in the unsaid so-called ‘Tennis Club Test’ – would they have me in their club…or not.

So, there are my pre-conceptions. It’s now 7.30am. I’ve spent the Summer working for Starbucks in preparation for this day and now it is time for me to set off on my hour-long commute to the Temple.