The end of lawyers

TheCreepMuch chat yesterday at chambers tea about a broadcast predicting the end of lawyers. “I hardly think that society will be able to do without us to solve their problems,” commented OldSmoothie.

“Ah, but they say that we’ll all be replaced by computers,” added TheCreep.
“Mightn’t be such a bad thing for some of us,” said BusyBody to UpTights in a stage whisper heard by everyone.
“I heard that, you know,” said TheCreep sulkily.
“But why would you think that was directed at you?” chirped BusyBody, clearly up for mischief as she turned back to UpTights and continued at the same volume: Anyway, I’m sure he’ll find someone to suck up even when all the QCs are gone.”
“You really think you’re so clever, don’t you?” said TheCreep as his cheeks started to flush.
Then TheVamp, sensing trouble, stepped in to shut him up: “Oh, Mr CreepyWeppy. You always look so sweet when your little cutesy wutesy little cheeks blush like that. Don’t you worry that goody goody little head of yours. Of course they’re not going to get rid of lawyers. I mean, you don’t think we complicate everything just for nothing, do you? It’s for the precise reason that if anyone ever tries to get rid of us, there’ll be no-one left to know how to undo the mess we’ve created.”

March 8, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ One Comment
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End of the road

OldSmoothieMuch chatter in chambers tea yesterday afternoon about fixed costs in road traffic cases. “It’s the end of the junior bar,” said TheCreep.
“And the junior junior bar,” said BusyBody.
“And definitely the baby bar,” piped up one of the pupils.
“Well at least the senior bar should be okay,” growled OldSmoothie smugly. “I mean, I haven’t done a small road traffic case for twenty years.”
“Yes, don’t worry OldSmoothie,” said BusyBody. “You’ll be absolutely fine. There’ll still be lots of work for you. The only problem will be that there’ll be no junior tenants to pay all the rent which pays for your clerk and your big room. But hey, you never know, maybe you’ll be able to work out of one the libraries.” OldSmoothie’s face dropped. “Oh,’ added BusyBody, “and there’ll be no-one around to refer work up to you either.”
“I don’t know,” said UpTights. “First it was no win-no fee. Now it’s just no fee.”

February 23, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ Comments Closed
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Terms of enragement

Vexatious_colourThe thing I’ve started to realise about ClichéClanger is that his gruff Northern demeanour and no nonsense approach belies a very wry sense of humour and a subtle twinkle in the eye. Today I received a good example where I am still left not knowing whether he’d made a Freudian slip or a joke. They were instructions for a case involving a client who has been causing him no end of grief and they began: “Your instructing Solicitor is enraged to represent the Claimant in this matter…”


February 16, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ Comments Closed
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Gleaning

“It wasn’t stealing, Madam.” It was TheBusker during his closing speech yesterday at Taunton Magistrates Court. He had been hired at great expense by a local solicitor to come down to the West Country to get his son off a charge of scrumping apples. By coincidence I had been in a case in the county court down there and went to watch his case once mine was finished.
“What do you mean it wasn’t stealing. This boy stole twenty-five apples out of Mrs Frobisher’s orchard. If that’s not stealing, what is?”
“Madam, when you had Peter Rabbit read to you as a child, were you on the side of Peter as he took the carrots from the field or that of Mr McGregor?”
“Yes but he was a fictional character, it’s hardly the same.”
“But it’s the same as those times you have been blackberrying with your family and strayed off a public footpath and into a farmer’s field or watched as your child ran across that field and delighted in collected mushrooms for the evening meal.”
“MrBusker, however sympathetic you make your case sound, how can you say that climbing into an orchard and running off with all those apples isn’t stealing?”
“Madam, it’s because when you take something that it’s customary for everyone to do at one time or another, it isn’t stealing as you don’t have the necessary dishonest intent.”
“So what is it then MrBusker? Enlighten me.”
“Madam, the correct word is gleaning. Peter gleaned the carrots, you gleaned the blackberries, your children gleaned the mushrooms and yes my client gleaned the apples. Without the element of dishonesty, none of these people, Madam, are thieves and thankfully, the common law of England does not yet recognize a crime of gleaning.”

With which the magistrate dismissed the charges and the solicitor’s son walked free.

February 9, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ 6 Comments
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Piffling

BabyB LPlate improvedMy opponent was much more senior than me today and it was clear from the off that he didn’t get on with the judge. I’m not sure whether it was his patronising manner or the judge’s irritation which came first but either way it caused such tension that the judge eventually reacted with the following: “It must be a great come down to have to come and argue with the baby bar out here in Medway on such a piffling little case as this one?”

After that the case, for me, was lost. Completely and utterly. My opponent was on the comment in a flash. “Your Honour, this may be a piffling little case as far as you’re concerned but for my client it is the most important thing in his life at present and I would ask that despite your clear prejudice that you give this case the fair hearing it deserves.”

Then ever other sentence rubbed in the words ‘piffling little case’ to the extent that by the end of the hearing the judge was clearly concerned about the prospect of appeal should he find against my opponent.

Which, surprise, surprise, he didn’t.

February 2, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ Comments Closed
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Get out of jail free card

Yesterday I had my third case in as many weeks in which a Defendant successfully claimed that he’d had a blackout at the wheel. Automatism they call it. ‘Simply not my fault, mate.’ More like a get out of jail free card if you ask me. That’s certainly how it felt today when a seriously injured claimant failed to get anything due to this technicality. Worse, the robing room chat with a few other barristers afterwards was that they’ve also seen a lot of these cases. Always the same expert and the same insurance company behind it. One barrister even went so far as to suggest that he’d represented that insurance company and discovered that there’s a new claims handler been brought in from (of all places) FakeClaims&Co to shake things up with the promise of a big bonus if he significantly reduces payouts.

It’ll be interesting to see how this develops.

January 26, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ Comments Closed
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Tontine

“Have you ever heard of a tontine, BabyB?” It was OldRuin and I admitted that I hadn’t. “Quite simple, really. An agreement whereby a group of people hold assets together and as each one dies those left behind get what remains. Generally to do with annuities, you know.”
“Oh, I see,” I replied, not really seeing.
“Well, the reason I ask is that I was party to a tontine with three friends from university. We had no money back in those days and very rarely thought a great deal about the future. But despite that, when it came to our final term we used up all our savings to buy four bottles of Chateau Mouton Rothchild 1945. Said to be possibly the greatest vintage of the last century, you know.’ He paused before continuing. “One we drank on graduation and another after a tragically early death of one of our merry band in a skiing accident. The third was opened a couple of years ago after another passed away – a high court judge no less. Today, I have the unenviable task of opening the final bottle.”
“I’m sorry to hear that OldRuin. Very sorry indeed.”
He looked older than ever, as if he was surveying not just his own life but the whole span of his three companions’ lives as well. Their ups and downs, loves and losses. “Very kind of you to say BabyB. Really never thought it would be me. I was never the sporty healthy type you see. But you never can tell.” He paused again, wistfully, before turning to me and bringing forth a smile of happiness which looked as if it had suddenly appeared from his youth. “The whole point of the tontine, BabyB was to be able to share it with people for whom you care and I wondered if you and Claire would like to share this bottle with me today?”

Which is just what we will be doing later.

January 19, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ One Comment
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Divorce central!

BabyB LPlate improvedWhoever said lawyers were vultures? Well, without mentioning their name, I have just had forwarded to me an internal memo which has been circulated around a well-known firm of family lawyers saying the following: “Gear up for Monday! It’s time once again to turn those post-Christmas new year blues into little rays of financial sunshine :-)”  I kid you not. Right down to the fake little smile. Then after a load of motivational chat about how the credit crunch was already helping business, it ended with: “Oh, and don’t forget, please remember that with the inevitable increase in activity during January, your fee-income target is (as always) 20% higher this month.” I wouldn’t be surprised if they also gave an award for the most number of acrimonious disputes brought through the door. Lawyers, huh? You gotta love ’em.

January 2, 2016 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ 2 Comments
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Therapy

OldSmoothie was boasting last night to just a couple of us in the clerks room about his latest sexual conquest. Apparently she was not only his opponent last week but is also twenty years younger than him. UpTights walked in on the conversation and said: “You really are a sad, lonely and dirty old man. What is it they say? Only two things are certain in life: death and a certain fat old barrister who’d get up on a crack on a plate.”
“That’s a bit rich coming from someone who’s been cocked more times than Davy Crocket’s musket.”

This seemed to hit home as her face turned into a boiled fist and she started shaking with what I can only assume was pent up rage at the pompous silver fox who was looking particularly irritating and smug today. But has completely lost it and was unable to speak and so just stood there stamping her foot and shaking some more. Then OldSmoothie took on a nasty look and bent down towards her and whispered: “I had a dream the other night UpTights. I saw a young girl building a gilded scaffold. Somewhere she could climb up and hide from the world behind her empty smile. I saw her clambering ever higher, her bony fingers stretched to the sun. Then I saw the noose tightening around her neck and heard her solitary scream as she jumped from the same scaffold she had erected to help her survive.”

UpTights had stopped shaking and was silent. Then she started crying uncontrollably. OldSmoothie looked at her and as if it was the most natural thing in the world took her in his arms and hugged her. UpTights by this point had turned catatonic and OldSmoothie pushed her away slightly, held her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. He then smiled almost flirtatiously and said: “You know, I could charge good money for therapy like that.”

With which he was gone.

December 29, 2015 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ Comments Closed
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Killing time

“You’re always rushing around, BabyB. Chopping up your life into hours, minutes, seconds. It’s what you lawyers are about. But if you’re not careful BabyB, you’ll turn into one of them and your whole life will be lost onto some dusty, meaningless timesheet.”

It was my mother and I didn’t argue because she was right. “Take the time to stand and stare. Look out your window at the cherry blossom in April or watch the girls go by in the Summer. I don”t care what it is but just take a little bit of pleasure in being rather than doing.” She looked at me softly and added: “I do worry for you, BabyB.”

December 22, 2015 ¡ Tim Kevan ¡ Comments Closed
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