Disability, the latest frontier… and so begins the reality of surveying the landscape around the deserted station where the disabled barristers’ odyssey has arrived along that dusty road paved with, allegedly, the best intentions. In totting up the mileage covered, it is important to note the great strides taken and a couple of milestones passed, as evidenced by the Bar-call selfies posted online.

Luckily, those disabled odysseans have not been complacent, despite their great academic and professional achievements; tirelessly swimming against the tsunami of ignorance, fear, embarrassment, history and tradition.

On 5 December 2024 at 6:00pm a distinguished panel, including Christina Warner, Daniel Holt, the Bar Standards Board’s Mark Neale and myself, had the privilege of speaking at Middle Temple’s inaugural Disability Forum. It was a pleasant, educational and, if I may write so, inspirational evening. The room soon became crowded as attendees arrived, chatting happily as they found their seats. Meanwhile, we speakers exchanged smiles, pleasantries and, most importantly, perceptions, understandings and experiences of life at the Bar with a disability.

After our host welcomed the attendees and introduced the event, we were delighted with a presentation by a young, highly talented poet, singer-songwriter named Miss Jacqui. Seated in her electric wheelchair, she had us reflecting on ethnicity, disability and rarely vocalised truths in her poetry – thinking that was occasionally suspended by a sudden line or couplet sparking restrained smiles or raucous laughter. Her artistic excellence, seemingly as limitless as her talent, further granted us the privilege of hearing her beautiful voice and song.

After the applause, the chairperson and the rest of the panel delivered our speeches.

We spoke about our experiences at the Bar with a permanent – and in my case, a severe physical – disability. My perspective is conditioned by the fact that I was called in 2001 and have been in full-time independent practice since. I have witnessed both the best and the worst treatment our traditionally noble profession can unleash against a different-looking colleague.

To substantiate, I shared personal anecdotes: as far back as the late 20th century, my pupillage chambers, a high-profile Treasury set, already had excellent disability-access amenities per ‘reasonable adjustments’ before s 15 of the Disability Discrimination Act 1995 became law in 2002 – introduced by the Special Educational Needs and Disability Act 2001. The building had lifts, special access furniture and my own workroom – just as if I were any other barrister.

However, this accessibility came at the cost of being subjected to appalling discrimination by certain barristers, including one of my pupil masters. Three incidents stand out.

First, he rejected every piece of my written work with his red biro, offering no constructive feedback beyond ‘read more law books’. Second, he told me not to be propelled in my wheelchair by my PA next to him in public. Third, during a case at the old Central London County Court (Business List), he ordered me to ‘keep away from [him] and [his] clients’ and not to listen in – despite pupils learning by observation.

I did not take this lightly. I complained to senior members of chambers and the Bar Council, receiving much sympathy but no visible action – note, this was over 24 years ago. At the end of my 12-month pupillage, I was advised by the pupillage committee chair (now a High Court judge) to reconsider my career choice and become a solicitor instead.

Ignoring that advice, I went into a 3rd six pupillage at my current chambers, where I have been a practising member since 2002. Until Christmas 2023, my chambers was the total opposite of my pupillage set – situated in a mid-17th-century building at 1 Essex Court, Temple, with an ancient staircase, Pugin fireplaces and zero wheelchair access. However, what the building lacked, then-head of chambers Mr Bhalla and other members made up for with goodwill.

For the first few years, I was carried up and down the staircase while my PA followed behind with my dismantled wheelchair. Fortunately, my brother, then a barristers’ clerk, arranged to carry me as needed to facilitate my access.

However, as my God never lets perseverance go to waste, when my brother changed occupation and joined the legal ranks himself and was thereon unable to facilitate my physical access, Middle Temple very kindly granted me free use of an empty room at 1 Brick Court basement that had a stair lift, for about another two years. Subsequently, when Middle Temple found a new tenant for the room, I was politely kicked out of my little chambers quasi-annex and I found myself, yet again, still a member of my chambers but with no building to physically access!

Nevertheless, God again came to the rescue and my own Inn, Inner Temple, has been very kindly been granting me the free use of meeting rooms when I need to come into the Temple to meet clients for case conferences. I have also been granted free access to library online legal resource subscriptions, and it is all these extremely generous special arrangements that, independent of any laws, makes my practice as a barrister viable and self-evidently has been sustainable for almost 25 years.

As I told the audience, it was not law that made the great differences for me (and I expect for others too), it was no more and no less than simple, basic, human empathy and goodwill. My original pupillage chambers had all the physical disability access imaginable, but zero humanity; and yet by contrast the chambers and Inns with generally less physical access capacity, have rolled up their sleeves and helped to get doors pushed open.

There is still a very long way to go in this odyssey, but I was happy to recognise that significant progress has been made, not by one, but instead by the goodwill of many. I do not believe the many outstanding miles left to be travelled can be properly undertaken in the vehicle of litigation, as litigation cannot change perceptions or attitudes. Instead, what is needed to complete the journey towards fair and reasonable opportunity to participate is: an effective means of scrutiny and challenge of misconceptions.

And so, optimistically, I find that the odyssey of the disabled barrister is no longer a solitary dingy being rowed against the tide, but a collective endeavour powered by the steady winds of goodwill, empathy, and – dare we hope – slow but genuine systemic change. Laws may set the framework, but it is the human spirit that breathes life into progress. If this journey is teaching us anything, it is that real change is not simply dictated – it is also inspired, encouraged, and built upon the small but resolute acts of those who refuse to accept exclusion as the status quo. As we press forward, let us not be content with milestones passed, but remain committed to the journey ahead, forging a profession where talent, not physicality, determines one’s path. The station may still be deserted, but the track is clear, and the destination – though distant – is undeniably in sight.