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No matter how strong your academic record or how glittering your Bar exam grades, what sets apart the very best in this job is experience. When you start out, you are likely to feel Not Very Good At This. That’s OK. The experience you begin to accumulate will mould and improve you faster than you realise. And while being book-smart on the law is important, sometimes the fastest way you learn is by talking a problem through with someone in the robing room, or by falling flat on your face in court. Both are valid techniques. And you will still be relying on both in two decades’ time.
Court etiquette is confusing to the point of nonsensical. There is a baffling choreography of people standing up and sitting down in apparently random formation; there are strict rules as to who is allowed to speak, and when; but perhaps the most baffling is that words often don’t mean what you think they mean. For instance, a judge telling you ‘I can’t hear you’ probably doesn’t mean that they can’t hear you. It is far more likely to mean: ‘You’ve forgotten to put your wig on, doofus’. Likewise, any sentence prefaced with ‘With the utmost respect’ is guaranteed to be delivered with absolutely no respect whatsoever. You’ll pick it up.
Within hours of being on your feet, your clerks will ring to acquaint you with a particular breed of court hearing. The sales pitch is always the same. ‘Just a quick mention’. Do not be fooled. Like the puffer fish, the beguiling exterior often masks a world of pain. If you have other hearings to attend, you can guarantee that the quick mention will start an hour late, spiral hysterically out of control and poleaxe the rest of your day.
In the criminal courts, you will need to adjust to subverted reality. For almost everybody you meet – not only guilty defendants, but innocent defendants, complainants, witnesses, police officers and prison staff (‘The defendant refused to get on the van to court today’ is the classic euphemism for ‘Umm, we forgot to tell him the van was leaving’) will stare you straight in the eye and tell you things that you will struggle to tally with the real world. It is one of the reasons, I think, why we place such a premium on truthfulness between lawyers. The very worst reputation you can carve out for yourself is somebody who is sharp or untrustworthy. Much better to be thought of as an honest bumbling halfwit than somebody whose name raises a knowing eyebrow among other barristers. Trust me.
Criminal law is ultimately about people. While a hardening of your outer shell is inevitable given the traumatic nature of the subject matter, it is essential to remember the human beings – whether defendant, complainant or witness – at the beating heart of a criminal case. While a handful of barristers can get away with borderline sociopathy and a wholesale lack of people skills, the best lawyers I know tend also to be the most empathic; those who maintain professional detachment, while keeping sight of the humanity at stake.
Another law of legal physics: that hugely exciting trial, the one with the fantastically innovative defence or the obviously lying swine who you can’t wait to cross-examine, on which you’ve spent months of weekends preparing – it’s probably not going to happen. The trials you are desperate to run are wont to be those that crack on the day or are adjourned by the court to a date when you are unavailable. The one you have been dreading, however, with that impossible client and reserved to that dragon of a judge – oh that’s a runner. And more than that, it’s going to overrun into that holiday you’ve booked. Sorry. That’s just physics.
It might seem easy to forget, deep into week four of a deathly dull fraud trial, that you remain an active participant in the public administration of justice. Do not forget. As a cautionary tale, I can do no better than recommend that you search Twitter using the terms ‘Bhangra Laptop of Doom’. Then sit, read and weep with gratitude that that story was not about you.
You will cross-examine the kids. A domestic argument with your partner will be delivered in numbered and paragraphed submissions. You may even find yourself pleading in the alternative. ‘If, which is not accepted, I was supposed to take the cat to the vet, I would still raise an issue of remoteness regarding the costs of cremation.’ That sort of thing. Your partner deserves fair warning of what is to come.
The greatest part of the job is, without doubt, the people you work with. You will share courtrooms and do intellectual battle with some of the most awe-inspiringly brilliant minds that our country has to offer. You will survive on the charity and kindness of your colleagues, the court staff, the probation service, court security, the witness service and the many others who toil in often intolerable conditions to keep our justice system running. On the difficult days, it is the people who will pull you through. To quote David Brent, ‘You will never work in a place like this again. This is brilliant. Fact.’
Granted, it is an incredibly important job, in which you carry often sole responsibility for a case which can determine the course of the participants’ lives, but it is still only work. Other things matter more:; family, friends, health and the pursuit of mild contentedness (the closest a barrister gets to happiness). This existence – especially in criminal law, where you are faced not only with the inherent complexity and pressure of the job, but with the added stressors caused by being part of a system in which little works as it should – will consume you if you let it. Take care of yourself, and of the people who matter.
Best-selling author of The Secret Barrister: Stories of the Law and How It’s Broken (Picador: 2018) and Fake Law: the Truth About Justice in an Age of Lies (Picador: 2020) and Independent Blogger of the Year (2017 and 2016 Comment Awards), the Secret Barrister is a junior barrister specialising in criminal law and blogs at thesecretbarrister.com. Nothing But The Truth: Stories of Crime, Guilt and the Loss of Innocence by the Secret Barrister was published by Picador on 12 May 2022.
No matter how strong your academic record or how glittering your Bar exam grades, what sets apart the very best in this job is experience. When you start out, you are likely to feel Not Very Good At This. That’s OK. The experience you begin to accumulate will mould and improve you faster than you realise. And while being book-smart on the law is important, sometimes the fastest way you learn is by talking a problem through with someone in the robing room, or by falling flat on your face in court. Both are valid techniques. And you will still be relying on both in two decades’ time.
Court etiquette is confusing to the point of nonsensical. There is a baffling choreography of people standing up and sitting down in apparently random formation; there are strict rules as to who is allowed to speak, and when; but perhaps the most baffling is that words often don’t mean what you think they mean. For instance, a judge telling you ‘I can’t hear you’ probably doesn’t mean that they can’t hear you. It is far more likely to mean: ‘You’ve forgotten to put your wig on, doofus’. Likewise, any sentence prefaced with ‘With the utmost respect’ is guaranteed to be delivered with absolutely no respect whatsoever. You’ll pick it up.
Within hours of being on your feet, your clerks will ring to acquaint you with a particular breed of court hearing. The sales pitch is always the same. ‘Just a quick mention’. Do not be fooled. Like the puffer fish, the beguiling exterior often masks a world of pain. If you have other hearings to attend, you can guarantee that the quick mention will start an hour late, spiral hysterically out of control and poleaxe the rest of your day.
In the criminal courts, you will need to adjust to subverted reality. For almost everybody you meet – not only guilty defendants, but innocent defendants, complainants, witnesses, police officers and prison staff (‘The defendant refused to get on the van to court today’ is the classic euphemism for ‘Umm, we forgot to tell him the van was leaving’) will stare you straight in the eye and tell you things that you will struggle to tally with the real world. It is one of the reasons, I think, why we place such a premium on truthfulness between lawyers. The very worst reputation you can carve out for yourself is somebody who is sharp or untrustworthy. Much better to be thought of as an honest bumbling halfwit than somebody whose name raises a knowing eyebrow among other barristers. Trust me.
Criminal law is ultimately about people. While a hardening of your outer shell is inevitable given the traumatic nature of the subject matter, it is essential to remember the human beings – whether defendant, complainant or witness – at the beating heart of a criminal case. While a handful of barristers can get away with borderline sociopathy and a wholesale lack of people skills, the best lawyers I know tend also to be the most empathic; those who maintain professional detachment, while keeping sight of the humanity at stake.
Another law of legal physics: that hugely exciting trial, the one with the fantastically innovative defence or the obviously lying swine who you can’t wait to cross-examine, on which you’ve spent months of weekends preparing – it’s probably not going to happen. The trials you are desperate to run are wont to be those that crack on the day or are adjourned by the court to a date when you are unavailable. The one you have been dreading, however, with that impossible client and reserved to that dragon of a judge – oh that’s a runner. And more than that, it’s going to overrun into that holiday you’ve booked. Sorry. That’s just physics.
It might seem easy to forget, deep into week four of a deathly dull fraud trial, that you remain an active participant in the public administration of justice. Do not forget. As a cautionary tale, I can do no better than recommend that you search Twitter using the terms ‘Bhangra Laptop of Doom’. Then sit, read and weep with gratitude that that story was not about you.
You will cross-examine the kids. A domestic argument with your partner will be delivered in numbered and paragraphed submissions. You may even find yourself pleading in the alternative. ‘If, which is not accepted, I was supposed to take the cat to the vet, I would still raise an issue of remoteness regarding the costs of cremation.’ That sort of thing. Your partner deserves fair warning of what is to come.
The greatest part of the job is, without doubt, the people you work with. You will share courtrooms and do intellectual battle with some of the most awe-inspiringly brilliant minds that our country has to offer. You will survive on the charity and kindness of your colleagues, the court staff, the probation service, court security, the witness service and the many others who toil in often intolerable conditions to keep our justice system running. On the difficult days, it is the people who will pull you through. To quote David Brent, ‘You will never work in a place like this again. This is brilliant. Fact.’
Granted, it is an incredibly important job, in which you carry often sole responsibility for a case which can determine the course of the participants’ lives, but it is still only work. Other things matter more:; family, friends, health and the pursuit of mild contentedness (the closest a barrister gets to happiness). This existence – especially in criminal law, where you are faced not only with the inherent complexity and pressure of the job, but with the added stressors caused by being part of a system in which little works as it should – will consume you if you let it. Take care of yourself, and of the people who matter.
The Chair of the Bar reports back
Clement Cowley, Partner at The Penny Group, explains how global events can influence the performance of pensions and ISAs, and why taking a long-term approach to investing is often the most effective strategy
Mário Barroso, Head of R&D and Method Development at AlphaBiolabs, discusses what family law professionals need to know about hallucinogens, from the main hallucinogenic drugs encountered in family proceedings, to their effects and the testing options available
Harmony Christian Ministries is the latest charity to benefit from a £500 donation from AlphaBiolabs via the company’s Giving Back initiative
By David Green
Mário Barroso, Head of R&D and Method Development at AlphaBiolabs, examines the forensic science underpinning hair drug testing, its evidential scope and limitations, and why it remains the gold standard for evidencing patterns of drug use in family proceedings
Developing a tech start-up demands a different definition of excellence to the Bar, says Saara Idelbi. The co-creator of Advocatr on entrepreneurship, AI advocacy training, and matching the thrill of a killer cross-examination
At the start of her term, Chair of the Bar 2026 Kirsty Brimelow KC set out a series of priorities for the year ahead. One of those priorities was children in the justice system
As the world becomes more digital, Barbara Vinagre Mota examines international research into the mental health consequences of judges’ exposure to graphic and immersive evidence, highlighting the importance of support systems
Reviewed by Daniel Barnett
James McNeill Whistler at Tate Britain until 27 September Rothko in Florence at Palazzo Strozzi until 23 August Reviewed by Stephen Cragg KC
