Most of our trades and professions bring on new recruits through some form of apprenticeship, which typically involves watching those who have developed an expertise through experience. Craftsmen in some trades would become “journeymen”, certified competent having completed their apprenticeships, explaining Henry IV’s lament in Richard II: “Must I not serve a long apprenticehood… and in the end… boast of nothing else but that I was a journeyman to grief?” The apprenticeship journey, however, is an effective way both to learn a trade or profession and to test drive a career, without the grief.
The Bar experience
At the Bar, at the end of their academic training, students are “called to the Bar” and formally become “barristers”. They may not, however, hold themselves out as practising barristers until they have served a prized apprenticeship, known as pupillage. Ordinarily, each pupil will have one supervising barrister, who will change during the 12 months of the pupillage. Pupils accompany their supervisors to court and to conferences; they usually sit in the same room, listening to every conversation with a solicitor, opponent, or another barrister. They relive the war stories, learning from the previous mistakes made by others. This gives pupils the chance to absorb the working lives of a number of barristers, each of whom will have a different practice and a different style. In turn, a set of chambers will have a good opportunity to assess the pupil.
This work experience has been honed over the centuries that the Bar has been in existence as the advocates’ profession. Its beginnings were nothing to write home about. In the 16th century, the Inns of Court, which trained aspiring barristers, required pupils to take part in exercises which had to be recited from memory. The Black Books of Lincoln’s Inn record that the judges of one competition in 1557 directed that the submissions should not contain “above two points argumentable”, disclosing perhaps an irritation with prolixity with which most barristers are familiar. But in these more enlightened days, pupils are required to experience aspects of a barrister’s work in sufficient depth to enable them to reach a competence threshold agreed between the profession and its regulator.
What now?
But what of the “new normal”? We have all become used to WFH. And many of us (at least those without school-aged children) have grown to like it. We all have the technology to work effectively and efficiently from home, and what is not to like about going to court in your slippers? Currently, the area around the Royal Courts of Justice is moribund; tumbleweed blows down Fleet Street; Chancery Lane is the Marie Celeste. Although barristers are perfectly free to travel to work, it seems that few choose to do so. We don’t even bother to set our out-of-office any more. Our homes have become our offices.
There are, of course, many advantages to all of this: no commute; flexible and more efficient use of time; less expense all round. But what of the flip side? It is easy to overlook the long-term downside, which is considerable. Work for many is not just sitting at a computer, bashing out words: it is rubbing shoulders with colleagues, absorbing and occasionally giving tips, and sharing ideas. It is what makes work-life fun.
The apprenticeship does not end with pupillage. When in chambers, barristers continue to learn from each other. We will often try out a submission or mull over a document together, asking for and giving advice. There is always a reassuring second view on a thorny ethical dilemma, and a sympathetic ear when things get difficult, as they often do. Our colleagues force us to be better than we think we can be, and give confidence in an adversarial world. We are much more together than we are alone. Those in the senior ranks of chambers learned their craft from the great practitioners who preceded them. It is vital that they do their bit in turn. No matter how good the technology, there is no substitute for physical presence: we need to study the practical application of our craft in three dimensions, not in two. We need to talk to each other.
Learning on the job
Little of this aspect of work-based learning has been aired in the media, which is instead full of reports about the excellence of remote learning facilities. Remote learning has a valuable role, but it has its limitations when it comes to the courtcraft and those other soft skills that a successful practice at the Bar requires.
Quite apart from all this, do we not all crave the social interaction that comes from being at work together? Video conferencing is fine, but it is not a patch on the craic that comes with sharing a lecture platform, taking part in a conference with a room full of talented people, or standing in court experiencing the adrenaline rush of fighting your corner.
Most important, though, is the impact of remote working on junior recruits at the Bar. Starting out in practice is daunting. Knowing you might be in court tomorrow against somebody who may be 20 years your senior can be intimidating. At the Bar, the buck stops with you. That is the hardest part of the job. And it can be a lonely place. On occasions like this, reassurance from a more experienced colleague is critical. The last thing you want on top of that is a life of solitude spent working from home. And what goes for the Bar is surely also true for many other careers.
We have done what we can for our two pupils during lockdown, simulating as much as we can of the normal pupillage experience. But our remoteness from chambers has had an impact on all of us, not just our pupils. We hope we return to normal soon.
Guy Fetherstonhaugh QC and Elizabeth Fitzgerald are barristers at Falcon Chambers
