Simon Myerson QC responds to Alex Deane's criticisms (click here to read the article), arguing that the Criminal Bar is still a career worth pursuing

In order to see whether there is anything in the preceding litany of gloom and doom, I have tried to analyse the actual complaints.

It seems to me that there are three. First, that our author did not get a fair run at his work. Second, that as a result of this he made very little money. Third, that he did not like the way he was treated by a number of people. But he proceeds on the assumption that it is like this for the entire Criminal Bar – or a substantial proportion of it. I do not believe this assumption is correct.

The figures, first of all: Googling the term 'barristers' earnings' produces statistics from the Bar Council showing that for criminal work barristers earn between £10,000-£30,000 in their first year and £40,000-£90,000 in their fifth year. Of course, that depends on you, your talent, your ability and luck. But even for the almost terminally unfortunate pupil of 25, it would only mean that you wouldn't earn proper money until you were 30 – not really the stuff of despair. That earnings are not what they once were is simultaneously true. But you still earn a fair whack more than the average wage and you are your own boss with an interesting, varied and responsible job that is actually useful.

Second, the clues: the article contains a litany of complaints about chambers. But these are, necessarily, specific rather than generic. For example: client choice is important. If the client decides he wants a different solicitor it is the job of the clerk or chambers to ensure that the barrister does not work for solicitors who do not actually have a client. The state does not run a compensation service for those who work hard but are then told they are not wanted. The author was a tenant: his chambers could – and should – have taken a robust approach to such behaviour by solicitors.

Similarly, no set of chambers should be sending their junior tenants to work for peanuts as a loss leader. The good ones don't and the circuit sets don't. But that complaint is not about the Bar – it is about the set and how it is run. On the subject of ushers, clerks and benches resenting outsiders, it's true that magistrates can certainly be touchy, but I have not encountered touchiness based on being an outsider.

I have also been in courts on every circuit in the country, in every major town and quite a few minor ones. I have been doing the job for 23 years, and I have never, ever, found the ushers anything other than helpful and polite.

Sense of satisfaction

What could have been said? Well, I can't myself contemplate writing even the most negative piece without mentioning the sense of satisfaction I get from assisting people who would be outrageously disadvantaged if required to articulate their case for themselves.

That is the essence of criminal practice at the Bar – the levelling of the playing field so that everyone has proper representation. This is worthwhile and deeply satisfying, even when politicians are calling you a parasite. I can, I have and I do put up with a lot of rubbish. The financial rewards can be great, but providing I make a living they are secondary to a sense of vocation, pride in the profession and job satisfaction (in that order).

What should not have been said? The article strikes me as being complaining and demanding.

Complaining: it sticks in the craw that a barrister considers it demeaning to compete for work. This is a competitive world. No client deserves less than the best they can have. The onus is on you to demonstrate that the best person is you – and yes; it is difficult and the dice are loaded. Notwithstanding which, if you find it beneath you then you shouldn't be doing the job. The world doesn't owe you a living. Many, many good young barristers make a go of doing criminal work because they enjoy it, are excited by it and are good at it.

Demanding: the moan about pupillage awards is from the wrong end of the telescope. Pupillage awards are a sum of money paid to people who are not yet able to do the job. The money comes from the earnings of the barristers in chambers. They are being trained by someone who will give them their all and receive not a penny for doing so. If the pupil is diligent, they may, after eight or nine months, save their supervisor about an hour by doing a standard piece of work pretty well. Until then they cost hours of time. That time is given happily, because the pupils themselves are usually delightful company, eager and willing to work hard and learn, and because supervisors are committed to the profession and to the pupils.

Misguided criticism

To complain that you aren't paid enough in those circumstances is misjudged. The aim of the award is to ensure that a pupil can pay their rent, travel and eat without too much worry. It is to make up for you not having a private income, not to give you one.

I certainly believe that what has been done to payment for criminal cases is indefensible. The Bar accepted the need to reduce the amount of money the country spent on criminal legal aid and co-operated fully with Lord Carter in his review, redistributing the money in the budget from the more senior to the more junior.

That the government then tried to impose a costs scheme for larger cases – which was nothing to do with those proposals – was unpleasant. The cynicism with which it now asserts that costs should be reduced a further 23% to reflect CPS fees, when it had previously acknowledged that CPS fees unjustifiably lagged behind defence fees, is quite breathtaking. But that does not outweigh the simple fact that being at the Bar is a remarkable privilege.

Don't come to this job because you want to earn a shed-load of money (although you may). Come because you want to make law and apply law so that everyone in this country (accused or victim, rich or poor) has someone to articulate what they want to say at the time when they most need to say it. There isn't much you can do that is more important than that.

Simon Myerson is a barrister at St Paul's Chambers and author of the blog Pupillage and How to Get It.

Click here to read Alex Deane's counter-argument, 'Crime doesn't pay'.

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