Objectifying life

OldFatherTimeSometimes legal practise seems like a never-ending round of technical points. Nit-picking at the margins to bring a little more injustice to the world. It’s no wonder some lawyers get depressed.  It’s as if they live in the shadow of the real world.  Looking at it through their own peculiar prism and seeing only a watered down reflection of reality.  Breaking it down into neat and tidy little issues.  Objectifying life.  Sucking the poetry from our souls and leaving a world in which everything is boiled down to some cynical legal platitude.  Where even real life heroes are made ordinary.  A world in which they are the masters.  A world where they know everything and yet, nothing at all.

Today I’m done with it and I’m dropping the wig and going off on holiday for a few days.

May 17, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ 4 Comments
Posted in: Uncategorized

Sneeze

Went off to court today and was against a very stuffy opponent who was immaculate in every way.  Even though I wasn’t out of the ordinary he made me feel like the scruffiest tramp ever to grave a courtroom.  Anyway it was open court and we were all decked out in our wigs and gowns.  As we waltzed into court, for just a second the flowing robes felt almost like a suit of armour all set for gladiatorial combat.  Such a shame then that by the end of the hearing even what little dignity with which I had started was in tatters.  You see, there I was.  Sitting opposite my opponent.  Looking all serious and intent when all of a sudden I got a terrible urge to sneeze.  Well, as you can imagine.  I suppressed it immediately.  Except it didn’t go away.  It was one of those sneaky little sneezes which slips around everything you throw at it and comes back even stronger for the next round.  At one point I gave in to it and held my head back about to sneeze as the whole courtroom looked at me and then as if it was just being mischievous it went away without actually happened.  But, you guessed it.  It hadn’t actually gone away.  It’d just side-stepped for a minute and was back in action and hit me without any warning with an almighty thunder.  Boy, I think it was so loud that they could hear it in the other courtrooms.  In itself though, that would probably have been okay.  I could just about have lived with that by burying my head in my notebook and imagining I wasn’t there.  The problem with this particular sneeze was that it had taken me unawares whilst wearing a wig.  The significance of this was that as my head was levered backwards I didn’t have time even to consider that in fact when it was triggered forward it would literally be bombs away.  You guessed it.  As I play it back in my mind, it is all in slow motion but at the time it happened in an instant.  Yes, my wig was displaced from my head and sent flying not onto the floor in front of me or anywhere so convenient.  It went flying through the air only to land on the judge’s desk, knocking over her jar of ink and her water glass and sending it all everywhere.  But just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, after having wiped off most of the water and ink, the judge then peered down at me and asked,
‘Mr BabyBarista.  Do you have an application which you would like to make.’

You what?  An application?  It was like having to go round to the next door neighbour’s and ask for your football back.
‘Er, yes, Your Honour.  Can I have my wig back.’
‘What’s the magic word, Mr BabyBarista?’
‘Please, Your Honour.  May I have my wig back.’
‘You may.’

Even at that stage I got no assistance from either the judge himself or her usher.  Instead, all concerned sat and watched as I had to make the long walk of shame up to the bench and slowly gather up my bit of horse hair.

So anyway.  On balance.  Wigs?  I still say get rid of them.

May 10, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ One Comment
Posted in: Uncategorized

BattleShips

Today I went along to a settlement conference with an insurer that usually instructs UpTights but got me today as she was already booked up. This is basically where both sides get together and chew over the fat on the case and eventually make offers to try and get rid of the case early on. Today though was different. UpTights had given me a warning about what might happen beforehand: “I’m afraid BabyB that you’ll find our insurer client today a little eccentric. Nothing I can do I’m afraid. He has his foibles and ultimately he’s the boss. Very frustrating though.”
“What sort of foibles?”
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.”

The conference was to take place along one particular floor in chambers so that people would be able to go off to their own private rooms for discussion and then return to the main room for negotiation. OldSmoothie was representing the other side and was there first. For some reason his clients were not in attendance. “I believe that you’re representing Sundance today. Shame UpTights isn’t here. I just know how you love these occasions.”

At which point Sundance the insurer himself appeared. “Ah, OldSmoothie, very good to see you. All set for a show down, I hope?”
“Been practicing all month Sundance. Shall we get down to it?”

OldSmoothie went over to the telephone and called down to the clerks: “Can you bring up the toys please?”

A few minutes later and FanciesHimself the junior clerk came into the room carrying a box in front of him like it was the crown jewels. I looked more closely. It was a game of Battleships. “Set ’em up then, OldSmoothie. Your turn to go first, I believe?”

At this point no-one had yet explained exactly what was going on but it was slowly starting to dawn on me. “Don’t worry BabyB,” said Sundance after they’d set it up. “This is no more random than putting your case in front of a judge and it’s a heck of a lot cheaper. We start with an agreed settlement range. Then if I beat OldSmoothie here at Battleships, he only gets the bottom of that range. If I lose, he gets the top end. Simple as that, really.”

He noticed that I looked slightly confused. “Why brief counsel on our own side you ask?”
“No, I wasn’t wanting to suggest…”
“I’ve known OldSmoothie here for years. Fought hundreds of cases against each other. He always insists that if we are to settle a case by Battleships. He’ll only do it if UpTights can be the referee. You’re just lucky enough to get the brief as her stand-in.”

OldSmoothie looked very pleased with himself. “Yes, she’s the most expense Battleships referee in the world ever.”

They both sat down at the table and stared at each other like it was high noon at the OK Corral. Silence descended and then the duel began.

On this occasion it was OldSmoothie who won the day and he rang his solicitor client from the room to report on what a tough negotiation he had been through.

May 3, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ 3 Comments
Posted in: Uncategorized

GolfDay

Yesterday was GolfDay.  Nothing else to call it.  Despite the conditions, one of the big clubs (which I won’t name for fear of giving away the identity of the people in this story) was holding a competition.  First I overheard my opponent on the train on the way to court on the telephone to one of his friends.
“I know mate, it’s a big one.  Tell me about it.  Look, I’ve got a case at the moment but definitely count me in.  I’m gonna have a chat with my opponent and see if I can’t get rid of it at the door of court…Yeh, yeh, I know.  Another ‘golf settlement’.  Good thing no-one’s done a graph comparing my settlement days to golf tournaments.”

Now you’d think that this would give me the upper hand at court and in normal circumstances it would.  Were it not for the fact that the judge called us into his chambers as soon as we arrived.
“Gentleman.  I’ve been looking at the papers in this case and I am extremely unhappy that this has come anywhere near a courtroom.  It should have settled years ago a car case like this, one side saying one thing, the other side saying another.  Looks like a straightforward fifty-fifty case to me.  But whatever your own views, let me tell you now that unless this case settles, I shall seriously be considering water costs orders against the lawyers after this case has finished for encouraging litigation where none were needed.”

Now if ever there was a code red to kick lawyers into doing what the judge wanted it was the threat of wasted costs against them personally.  Threaten the clients and the amount of damages and it was water off a duck’s back.  By tomorrow they’d be onto the next one.  Like some croupier in a big casino, all they were doing was administering other people’s bets.  Judges know this best of all and so when they really want something they threaten to hit the lawyers where it hurts which is one place and one place only.  Their pockets.
“And don’t start getting into arguing about which side I might blame for this litigation.  In my view you’re both as bad as each other.  In fact, I’m even minded to send these papers off to be reviewed by the disciplinary committees of the Law Society and the Bar Council.”  He added just for good measure.

Actually, there’s another hole in a lawyer’s thick hide and that’s the fear of being hauled in front of his professional body.  This judge was clearly on a mission as he’d hit a double whammy with his first two blows.  He clearly wanted rid of this case and fast.

After we left the court, I went to my client and explained that the judge was encouraging us to settle at fifty-fifty.  This would be an excellent result for us as I’d been expecting to lose the case outright on the evidence.  “But I’ve been fighting this case for over four years now and they’ve never made any offers in the past.  Why would they do so now?”

I could hardly tell him that it was because my opponent was desperate to get to the golf course and the judge was in a bad mood.  Doesn’t exactly give you faith in the system of justice.
“Well, being at court often focuses people’s minds on the potential weaknesses in their own cases, I guess.  Let’s see what they come back with.”

We both then looked over at my opponent on the other side of the room who was clearly having a heated discussion with his own client who looked very unhappy.  At one point the client stormed off in a rage only for my opponent to follow him and continue the conversation.  Eventually, I saw the client nodding reluctantly and then my opponent came over and asked if he could have a word with me.
“Been a bit of a difficult one as you can imagine but I’ve eventually brought him around.  Told him that he could be going home with nothing and a horrendous costs order again st him personally if he wasn’t careful.”

Which just wasn’t true, but, hey, not my business.
“So, I eventually brought him round to the judge’s suggestion.  I think we can settle on fifty-fifty.”

Now this was an absolute gift horse for my client and I really should grabbed the offer immediately.  However, I felt that his desire to play golf may squeeze just a little bit more.
“Look, I know you’ve got the stronger case but my client’s here after four years of worry and he’s ready to have his day in court.  I have talked to him about settlement but the most that he’ll come down to is sixty-forty in his favour.”
“BabyBarista, are you mad?”  He appeared quite angry at my response, no doubt due to the fact that he could see his golf game receding into the distance.
“Sorry.  Sixty-forty or we have a day in front of the judge.”

He looked at me for a while weighing up whether I was bluffing or not.  Now this is the first time that I’d had to put my staring skills into practice.  All came out of a drunken conversation with Claire a few weeks ago about blinking.  Specifically, if you’re going to negotiate well, you can’t afford to blink after a big bluff – kind of the same principle as Krushchev having blinked in the East-West showdown in the early sixties Bay of Pigs crisis.  So we’d since spent many a drunken hour having blinking competitions on the basis that it was actually good training for the bar.  Now, finally, was my moment and after I’d said my bit, I looked him straight in the eye and held my gaze…and held it still.  Not a blink to be seen, although my eyes were starting to water.  Eventually he cracked and blinked first.
“I’ll take instructions,” he said and went back to his client.

Ten minutes later and a sixty-forty settlement was ours and my opponent whisked us back in front of the judge.
“Excellent, gentlemen.  What an eminently sensible course of action, if I may say so.”

He then took a look at his watch.
“And conveniently enough, should be just enough time to make the first tee after lunch.”

It was only at that point that I suddenly took in the various memorabilia which were spread around his room.  Not for him the pictures of old judges.  Instead, it was old cartoons of golfers and the odd photo and trophy.

Suddenly it all became clear.

When I rang my ClichĂŠClanger who was my solicitor once again, he said,
“Well, well, BabyB, from the jaws of defeat…you certainly pulled it out of le chapeau and slam dunked it on this one, I must say.”
“Oh, it was nothing really.”
“But what did you say to your opponent to get them to settle?  I’ve been trying to get anything out of the other side for years.”
“Oh, just an old-fashioned staring match and he blinked first,” was all I replied.

ClichĂŠClanger, of course, thought I was joking.

April 26, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ 2 Comments
Posted in: Uncategorized

Manners

“How’s Claire, BabyB?” It was OldRuin back in chambers again. “I’ve always had a soft spot for her, you know. Very fond of you she is, I’d say.”
“She’s very well, OldRuin. Building up a pretty successful practise as well.”
‘”Yes, I’ve no doubt about that. You know what stands out about her?”
“What’s that?”
“Impeccable manners, BabyB. Understated, modest and kind. I might sound old-fashioned when I say this but in my view it’s the key to success at the bar. With solicitors, with clients and above all with judges.”  He mused a little and then continued: “Many’s the time that I’ve had an opponent who I have to admit that I found more than a little irritating. But if he wanted to interrupt my submission in front of the judge then I would always give way. You know, the arrogant and rude will always stab themselves in the foot so long as you let them.  Hoisted up on their own petards.”

Then he did what he has often done in the past and alluded to knowing far more than he was letting on. “Let me take your former colleague TopFirst as a counter example to Claire. Even if he’d applied for tenancy at this chambers, he would never have been taken on.” He paused and gave one of his kindly looks again. “She’s a bright lady, our Claire. Got a lot to teach us all, BabyB.”

April 19, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ 3 Comments
Posted in: Uncategorized

Bless

BabyB LPlate improvedWent off to court today to be faced with someone who was very clearly a second six pupil on their first day in court. The biggest giveaway was the fact that despite it being a small claims track case the pupil turned up with both volumes of the White Book guide to civil procedure despite the fact that in a million years he wouldn’t be referring to either one. Then there was the skeleton argument which ran to about ten pages and included reference to “Donoghue v Stevenson: the law of negligence explained” and “Lord Atkin’s neighbour principle” explaining in intricate detail why one driver on “one of Her Majesty’s highways” owed a “common law duty of care” to another.

Bless.

April 12, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ 6 Comments
Posted in: Uncategorized

Treadmills

OldSmoothieYou’d think with all the money they all earn and the self-important strutting which goes on, that members of chambers would all be blissfully happy. But sadly very often that couldn’t be further from the truth. Today it was OldSmoothie voicing his woes: “You know, BabyB, sometimes I wonder what on earth it’s all about.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like the money and let’s face it, there’s a lot.”  He laughed in an over-weight, greed sort of way. “It’s just the treadmill that goes with it. Fully equipped with expensive wife, big house, school fees and all the other necessities of a middle class life in London. What’s worse is the more you earn, the faster gets the treadmill. You know, only this month I’ve just paid out fifty grand on bills of one kind or another. Okay, it’s a bad month but it’s like the treadmill’s on full speed and I wouldn’t be able to jump off even if I wanted.”

Now don’t get me wrong, OldSmoothie doesn’t represent all lawyers and of course i’m sure there are even some happy lawyers. People who dance to work, whistling a merry tune about time sheets and limitation deadlines. People who actually enjoy taking technical points at the expense of justice or truth and maybe even people who put their clients first.

Well, maybe, anyway.

April 5, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ 2 Comments
Posted in: Uncategorized

Pupil fodder

It’s now several years since I did my first case in court and as I sized up my opponent this morning, I considered how appropriate it was that April Fool’s Day should be the date set for the official release of the pupils into the wild. April, the cruellest month delivering this one fresh from his pupilmaster’s cocoon complete with sparkling white bands, unused wig and ram rod straight back as if his mother was somehow at his shoulder reminding him not to slouch

Despite it being a small claim, he approached me carrying not only two huge volumes on court procedure but also a skeleton argument and a three inch thick bundle of authorities on car cases. He drew breath: “Do you accept,” he said, “that a car driver owes a common law duty of care to another when driving on one of Her Majesty’s highways?”
“Er…”
“And do you accept that breaches of the Highway Code constitute negligence?”
“Er…”

He’d obviously been told to be forceful since despite the obvious and wholly uncontroversial points he was making, I couldn’t get a word in edgeways as he pretty much recited his skeleton at me. Then, I spotted SlipperySlope across the other side of the waiting room who was obviously here on a different case. He was clearly in high spirits and as I approached he put his hands on his hips and pushed out his chest somewhat theatrically before saying: “You smell that? Do you smell that? Pupils, BabyB. Nothing else in the world smells like that.” He paused and then added: “I love the smell of pupils in the morning.”
“Er…”
“Smells like…victory.”

Which in my case turned out to be right.

April 1, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ One Comment
Posted in: Uncategorized

TechnicalPoint

BabyB LPlate improvedToday I was instructed by an insurance company to go and kick out a claim against some builders who had accidentally burnt down a house in which they had been working.  Despite the fact that the builders’ insurers had accepted responsibility, today they wanted to get out of paying a single penny simply due to the fact that the homeowner’s solicitors had delivered the claim form half a day out of time.  The other side argued that if the solicitors had been negligent then the claimant would have a remedy against them.  The judge agreed and kicked out the case.

Which about sums up much of this crazy legal system of ours.  The people responsible get off and both side’s lawyers will get paid by insurers.  It’ll then go off to be litigated in an even more complicated and technical professional negligence action in which two more sets of lawyers will profit.  Several years after the damage was caused, the homeowner might get to see a small amount of compensation.  Well, maybe.

Worst of all, I could see my opponent today delighting in the technical point he was succeeding on.  Just when is it, I wondered, when someone suddenly changes and becomes a lawyer?  When they start taking pleasure in diverting justice away from the people it is ostensibly there to serve by raising some clever, weedly, finickity little point which other than lining the pockets of even more lawyers  serves only to add to the sum of human misery in the world?

Whenever it is, it happens just as surely as legal cats becoming very fat.

March 29, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ Comments Closed
Posted in: Uncategorized

In my dreams

OldRuin“What would be your dream life, BabyB?” It was OldRuin again, having had time to mull over what I’d said to him yesterday.
“I’ve no idea,” I replied. “But I guess it’d have to involve having financial security for my mother. Maybe pay off her debts, get her a bigger house.”
“And what would you be doing?”
“I don’t know. I never imagined I’d be a barrister but I kind of like it now I’m here. Sounds sad but the security thing’s the only bit I’d change.”
“Will you grant me a wish, BabyB?”
“Of course, OldRuin. What?”
“That you try to stop making plans and start dreaming again. Dream like you were a child again.” He hesitated before continuing, “Boundless.”

I’ve no doubt that I looked more than a little perplexed and he fell back into a voice I’ve heard him use before, only just above a whisper. “It’s sorrow and longing which carve out the depths of your soul, BabyB.” Again he looked at me, this time a little wistfully before adding, “But it’s your dreams which give it life.”

March 15, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ 3 Comments
Posted in: Uncategorized