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When I was a youngster, I always wanted to be a criminal barrister. I had no idea what it entailed. I didn’t know that most barristers were self-employed or operated from chambers. I thought it would be an interesting and exciting career and that I, like all barristers, would become as rich as Croesus. A life of untold luxury awaited. Thirty seven years later, 14 of them in silk, the money for my yacht and private jet has gone to HMRC. I can’t afford to retire (not that I want to) and I plough on living the hand-to-mouth existence that most criminal barristers know so well.
I am often asked by youngsters whether I would recommend a life at the criminal Bar. There are many reasons not to become a criminal barrister. To qualify you need to spend three years at university and a year at Bar school. After that, with well into six figures of debt, you commence the practically impossible quest for pupillage and tenancy, having forked out over a thousand pounds for a wig and gown. It is an incredibly competitive world. Around 20,000 students a year attend Bar schools up and down the country chasing after 600 pupillages. Last year, only those with first class or upper second degrees obtained an offer. Not a single person with a 2-2 (a ‘Desmond’ as it was known in my day) was offered a pupillage – so if I tried to become a barrister today, I’d have fallen at the first hurdle.
If you are one of the lucky ones to become a junior tenant, you will then start to earn money. But how much? 11.8% of junior tenants earn less than £30,000 a year, but that doesn’t mean it’s yours to spend. You need to fund your own pension, pay chambers’ rent, pay for travel to court, pay off your student loan and, if you go on holiday or are off work sick, you don’t get paid. Notwithstanding the measly net amount you earn, you will still come to fear two dates in the calendar that send a shiver down the spine of all criminal barristers. 31 January and 31 July, when the taxman (or woman) cometh. Your tax bill will be for more money that you can ever remember receiving, with quarterly bills on top for VAT – money you have received but, even though it’s not yours, you will have spent.
If you compare your journey to that of a train driver your career choice should be a no brainer. A train driver needs a grade C in either GCSE maths or English, then becomes a paid trainee for a year. After that, with no student debt and no need to buy their own uniform they start on a salary of around £40,000. They don’t pay upwards of 20% of their salary in chambers rent, they don’t pay VAT, their tax is deducted as PAYE, they get paid travel, their employers make their pension contributions, they get paid holidays and, if they’re ill they get sick pay.
At the self-employed Bar you only have to work half days – you just choose whichever 12 hours you like. I always wanted a job where I didn’t suffer from the two (wish your life away) factors – ‘Thank goodness it’s Friday’ and ‘I don’t like Mondays’, and as a criminal barrister I have such a job. I don’t look forward to the weekend because I have to work on Saturdays and Sundays.
Being master of your diary you are not constrained to the four weeks’ paid holiday that train drivers have. You can take as many unpaid holidays as you like, but don’t necessarily expect to go on them. Cases overrun or are listed without consultation or concern as to your availability. I’ve lost count of the number of holidays I’ve booked and paid for but not been able to go on. My mother-in-law is very happy when my cases overrun. She has taken my place at the last moment countless times. If you want to know about my family holidays to Russia or India’s Golden Triangle it’s no use asking me, you’ll have to ask my mother-in-law.
Cases overrunning is one problem. On the other side of the coin are cases being taken out of the list. I had a case which was listed for trial on 9 September, but on the evening of 8 September I received an email informing me that it was now a mention to fix a date (the fourth time it had happened with that case). I had to return a case fixed for the same date to another barrister. That case went ahead. I’ve had other cases taken out of the list and my diary is now empty until December. Perhaps I’ll see if there are any train driving jobs available. I’m also pretty sure that list officers up and down the country are conspiring to fix all of my cases on the same date. I had a full diary until Christmas, but three cases were taken out of the list due to a lack of court availability and have now all been listed on the same day.
Another advantage to being at the criminal Bar is you get to travel. You’ll probably do more miles per annum than the train driver, especially in silk. Whereas the train driver will live a few minutes from the station, you’ll have cases all over the country. This year I’ve been in Newcastle, Birmingham, Cardiff, Manchester and pretty much everywhere else. I even had a case in Carlisle that was fixed for a 10am start on a Monday but was taken out of the list due to no court availability at 9am that morning. The court listing officer was kind enough to call and inform me, starting the conversation with, ‘Good morning, Mr Bell. Have you set off yet?’
Notwithstanding the above, being a criminal barrister is an exciting and interesting job. The stakes are high. When the jury return their verdict, your client will either be going home or to prison for life.
The criminal barrister community is a tight knit and fantastic group of people. Wherever I’m working, whenever I go into a robing room I am always delighted to bump into barristers I’ve known for decades but rarely see. They are also an incredibly diverse crowd. All classes, races and religions are strongly represented and there are wonderful social events you can (and should) attend. I went to the Midland Asian Lawyers Ball in October which was, as always, a cultural highlight of the year.
Of course there are other branches of the law you could go into where you could earn so much more money and not suffer the difficulties and uncertainties that are unique to the criminal Bar, but, until I see a television drama entitled Rumpole of the Chancery Bar or Kavanagh Planning KC, they’re not for me.
So, as Christmas approaches and I head off to Poundland to buy the children’s presents and then to Aldi to order the turkey, I consider the question again, should you become a criminal barrister? My answer is a resounding yes – it’s a no brainer.
Gary Bell KC is a criminal defence barrister at Libertas Chambers. He has over a third of a century’s experience and specialises in multi-handed fraud, drugs and murder cases.
When I was a youngster, I always wanted to be a criminal barrister. I had no idea what it entailed. I didn’t know that most barristers were self-employed or operated from chambers. I thought it would be an interesting and exciting career and that I, like all barristers, would become as rich as Croesus. A life of untold luxury awaited. Thirty seven years later, 14 of them in silk, the money for my yacht and private jet has gone to HMRC. I can’t afford to retire (not that I want to) and I plough on living the hand-to-mouth existence that most criminal barristers know so well.
I am often asked by youngsters whether I would recommend a life at the criminal Bar. There are many reasons not to become a criminal barrister. To qualify you need to spend three years at university and a year at Bar school. After that, with well into six figures of debt, you commence the practically impossible quest for pupillage and tenancy, having forked out over a thousand pounds for a wig and gown. It is an incredibly competitive world. Around 20,000 students a year attend Bar schools up and down the country chasing after 600 pupillages. Last year, only those with first class or upper second degrees obtained an offer. Not a single person with a 2-2 (a ‘Desmond’ as it was known in my day) was offered a pupillage – so if I tried to become a barrister today, I’d have fallen at the first hurdle.
If you are one of the lucky ones to become a junior tenant, you will then start to earn money. But how much? 11.8% of junior tenants earn less than £30,000 a year, but that doesn’t mean it’s yours to spend. You need to fund your own pension, pay chambers’ rent, pay for travel to court, pay off your student loan and, if you go on holiday or are off work sick, you don’t get paid. Notwithstanding the measly net amount you earn, you will still come to fear two dates in the calendar that send a shiver down the spine of all criminal barristers. 31 January and 31 July, when the taxman (or woman) cometh. Your tax bill will be for more money that you can ever remember receiving, with quarterly bills on top for VAT – money you have received but, even though it’s not yours, you will have spent.
If you compare your journey to that of a train driver your career choice should be a no brainer. A train driver needs a grade C in either GCSE maths or English, then becomes a paid trainee for a year. After that, with no student debt and no need to buy their own uniform they start on a salary of around £40,000. They don’t pay upwards of 20% of their salary in chambers rent, they don’t pay VAT, their tax is deducted as PAYE, they get paid travel, their employers make their pension contributions, they get paid holidays and, if they’re ill they get sick pay.
At the self-employed Bar you only have to work half days – you just choose whichever 12 hours you like. I always wanted a job where I didn’t suffer from the two (wish your life away) factors – ‘Thank goodness it’s Friday’ and ‘I don’t like Mondays’, and as a criminal barrister I have such a job. I don’t look forward to the weekend because I have to work on Saturdays and Sundays.
Being master of your diary you are not constrained to the four weeks’ paid holiday that train drivers have. You can take as many unpaid holidays as you like, but don’t necessarily expect to go on them. Cases overrun or are listed without consultation or concern as to your availability. I’ve lost count of the number of holidays I’ve booked and paid for but not been able to go on. My mother-in-law is very happy when my cases overrun. She has taken my place at the last moment countless times. If you want to know about my family holidays to Russia or India’s Golden Triangle it’s no use asking me, you’ll have to ask my mother-in-law.
Cases overrunning is one problem. On the other side of the coin are cases being taken out of the list. I had a case which was listed for trial on 9 September, but on the evening of 8 September I received an email informing me that it was now a mention to fix a date (the fourth time it had happened with that case). I had to return a case fixed for the same date to another barrister. That case went ahead. I’ve had other cases taken out of the list and my diary is now empty until December. Perhaps I’ll see if there are any train driving jobs available. I’m also pretty sure that list officers up and down the country are conspiring to fix all of my cases on the same date. I had a full diary until Christmas, but three cases were taken out of the list due to a lack of court availability and have now all been listed on the same day.
Another advantage to being at the criminal Bar is you get to travel. You’ll probably do more miles per annum than the train driver, especially in silk. Whereas the train driver will live a few minutes from the station, you’ll have cases all over the country. This year I’ve been in Newcastle, Birmingham, Cardiff, Manchester and pretty much everywhere else. I even had a case in Carlisle that was fixed for a 10am start on a Monday but was taken out of the list due to no court availability at 9am that morning. The court listing officer was kind enough to call and inform me, starting the conversation with, ‘Good morning, Mr Bell. Have you set off yet?’
Notwithstanding the above, being a criminal barrister is an exciting and interesting job. The stakes are high. When the jury return their verdict, your client will either be going home or to prison for life.
The criminal barrister community is a tight knit and fantastic group of people. Wherever I’m working, whenever I go into a robing room I am always delighted to bump into barristers I’ve known for decades but rarely see. They are also an incredibly diverse crowd. All classes, races and religions are strongly represented and there are wonderful social events you can (and should) attend. I went to the Midland Asian Lawyers Ball in October which was, as always, a cultural highlight of the year.
Of course there are other branches of the law you could go into where you could earn so much more money and not suffer the difficulties and uncertainties that are unique to the criminal Bar, but, until I see a television drama entitled Rumpole of the Chancery Bar or Kavanagh Planning KC, they’re not for me.
So, as Christmas approaches and I head off to Poundland to buy the children’s presents and then to Aldi to order the turkey, I consider the question again, should you become a criminal barrister? My answer is a resounding yes – it’s a no brainer.
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