‘The judge went absolutely berserk’: my life as a barrister in badly behaved Britain
I came to the end of my degree and thought: “Oh my goodness, I’ve got to get a job. What can I do?” It was a combination of enjoying drama, theatre and public speaking, as well as spending time looking at books, that led me to train as a barrister. There are certainly lots of theatrics in court.
Traditionally, you never wash your wig. When you start practising, your wig is shiny and white, so it’s obvious that you are new to the job. Once you have become seasoned, your wig will be dull and beaten up, which oddly gets you more respect.
Court is an inherently formal environment – and the more formal the environment, the more amusing it is when someone gets something wrong. The public should refer to a high court judge as “my lord” or “my lady”, but I heard one witness use “mate”. An elderly client referred to a very dry, middle-aged judge as “young man”, which raised a snigger in the courtroom. Another guy, for reasons I never understood, called everyone “Dipper”. Outside the courtroom, he referred to me as Dipper. He referred to my client as Dipper. Then, in court, he referred to the judge as Dipper, which they found very irritating.
Once, the opposing client didn’t have a solicitor – which is highly unusual and not recommended – and hadn’t made any contact, so we assumed they weren’t going to turn up. Then the door burst open and in he came. The first thing the judge said was: “You haven’t produced any evidence to support your case at all. Why shouldn’t I dismiss your claim straight away?” They pulled out a plastic bag, packed full of mouldy, musky-smelling documents, and emptied it all over the judge’s desk. The judge went absolutely berserk.
I haven’t detected much change in people’s attitudes due to the pandemic. Sadly, human nature means just as many arguments still end up in legal disputes, although a lot of hearings are now online. This also means that people have trouble dealing with technology. One court attender couldn’t hear what was going on and got increasingly cross. He was effing and blinding that the system was rubbish, even though everyone in court could hear him. Suddenly, his son appeared in the background and said: “Dad, you’ve still got your headphones plugged in.”
Naturally, people are far more relaxed addressing a judge on the screen at home than they would be in court. When I called one of my witnesses to appear before the judge, she appeared on the screen in her dressing gown, looking as if she was on holiday, smoking a cigarette. I sent an urgent text message: “Can you please at least put on a jumper and put out your cigarette when you are giving your evidence?”
In another case, a farmer lost a litigation that resulted in him having to pay thousands of pounds to a neighbour. He went to the bank, asked for the thousands he owed in 2p coins, then mixed it into a huge pile of manure, loaded it on to a tractor, drove to his neighbours’ and tipped it all over their front garden. I had to admire his creativity.
