George and I are colleagues in chambers. We often share thoughts and reach out when either of us needs a sense check or a check in. Wellbeing at the Bar, managing the complex emotions and handling trauma, are things that we both feel strongly about. Below are our reflections on peer support and the community that is ‘The Bar’.

Hannah Markham KC:

In a profession which can be fraught with adversarial combat, there is nothing more supportive and welcoming than walking into a room and knowing that you are in a safe environment of belonging. It can be an advocate’s room at court, or a meeting room for a seminar or chambers event. The Bar is a curious combination of collaborative pulling together and adversarial pulling apart. I have learnt in my years (28 of them at the Bar) how very important it is to be aware of what is happening for my colleagues, for those I am ‘against’ and to listen to – and be mindful of – when others are struggling: managing private difficulties, bereavements, losses and medical issues.

No other profession is so taxing and demanding of our private time and weekends, and yet so lacking in understanding of how the outside world can impinge on the inner court world.

Just before Christmas my mother fell and needed surgery; she became extremely unwell. I had to stop everything: my colleagues and friends, of course, stepped in and stepped up – ‘What can we do? How can we help?’ – but it was the judges and the clients who I needed to understand why I suddenly could not be at court, and why their cases needed to be moved or adjourned. I was profoundly moved by the responses from everyone and it made me think about the day-to-day role each of us has in providing empathy, compassion, support and care for one another.

With International Women’s Day coming around again, it brings a timely reminder of the power of women for other women; of the need to hold in our thoughts those who have less than us: those feeling anxious and overwhelmed; so, being asked to pen this article gives an avenue in which to share thoughts about how we can do this. As former Chair of the Family Law Bar Association (FLBA) and as current Chair of Women in Family Law (WiFL), I have been privileged to see and experience first-hand the drive and care from so many in our profession to make things easier for others.

It is vital to stand up for juniors when we hear unnecessary comments. Words which cut deep and erode confidence have no place in the courtroom, whether by colleague or tribunal. Take the time to check in with that person, email them to see if they need any support, make it clear you saw and heard what happened and that you do not condone it.

Protect those who are working hard to manage a demanding practice along with caregiving: whether for children, elderly parents or unwell relatives. When sending emails be mindful that, for many, knowing that an email has come in – when they need to be away from their computer – can add stress and overwhelm.

When someone walks into an advocate’s room looking unsure of their place, check in with them: make them feel secure and valued. Be aware that a ‘gaggle of barristers’ can feel daunting to those who are new to the area or juniors joining. It is important that we are aware that our friendships and familiarity can seem a block to others so being aware of this and being mindful of how that may feel is vital.

Those of us in a senior role, in my view, have a central role in reminding judges about time demands and in calling out unreasonable requests for overnight work and preparation. We are entitled to set boundaries and remind judges of life beyond the courtroom.

Joining associations like WiFL and the FLBA can provide a place in which peer support can feel amplified and embracing. When juniors and seniors alike come together and share the same stories, the sense of ‘Can I do this?’ often falls away. Peer support is invaluable, because no one understands the job like those who do it! The FLBA and WiFL recognise the absolute need to ensure that wellbeing and respect remain illuminated for the profession. The FLBA’s respectful working policy, launched in 2023, is there so that no one person has to hold disrespectful behaviour or tolerate bullying. WiFL has held seminars on feeling imposter syndrome and how to overcome this. The profession is, in many ways, not fit for purpose when it comes to wellbeing, but that does not mean that we should not press to make it happen. So: this March, this International Women’s Day, resolve to listen, support, protect and encourage. To all, and for all.

George Harley:

Belonging at the Bar can feel awkward. It’s competitive. We can envy and fear peers, often irrationally. Imposter syndrome can embed. Fragile egos whispering, ‘You’re not as good.’ Worse, our brittle egos defining what others think of us. What judges, our opponents’ barristers think of our craft. We glimpse them laughing in a court corner and assume it’s all ‘about me’. It can be solitary. So, finding a sense of belonging can be a challenge. This inner voice got the better of me. One day I was superhuman, the next subhuman. Thrashing about amid this inner sabotage often led me to drink as a silencer.

There is WiFL. There is no male association to find commonality. There is a women’s WhatsApp group in Chambers but not a men’s. So I seek out kinfolk to be openly vulnerable with, share our worries and sometimes self-sabotage.

Men of my age, 30s/40s, with a young family can struggle to balance life. Perhaps we have some macho sense that we need to maximise our working capacity to prove how broad our shoulders are. In the absence of groups, sharing spaces, we sit in a vacuum of our own anxieties and seem not to stretch our wellbeing muscle. I can envy the support I see female barristers seek out, who form groups and networks. I think men want to but stumble at the asking.

That said, at low ebbs when I have reached out to senior male members of the family Bar, I have only ever found compassion. A dulcet, paternal ‘Ah George, I’ve been there and know these feelings well.’ After losing a lost case, a kindly ‘George, you can’t please everyone and you can die trying.’ I find much support from female barristers when I reach out. It’s the reach that brings the belonging.

With or without a gendered group, compassion can be found. Soon you can hear pleas of ‘go easy on yourself’. Share the hard times, don’t bray about the good. In that moment you connect with someone, and that connection can powerfully disperse fears and perilous thoughts. And you realise you are just human. Like everyone else. And even those adorned with accolades have their fear-filled moments. That connection is an embrace and there, you belong.

So I might not have a family Bar men’s group as such. But when I sit with another after a brutal day, when I feel less and other, the available kindness creates the congruence where belonging can be found.