lateforlawschool

Gosh, this is a little neglected, isn’t it? I do apologise. Allow me to sweep away the cobwebs and tumbleweed.

I had not intended to neglect this, but I have had a summer of exams, illness and other things. However, I do intend to return. I’m sure I shall be spouting off about something or other sooner rather than later.

Watch this space.

I have finally received my first marks back from the two pieces of work I have submitted so far. Alright, it was about a week ago, but I’ve been busy. Video games don’t play themselves you know. You might remember me saying that I need to achieve at least a 2:1 to have any real chance of getting a position after the “education” part of my training.* You might also remember that my marks from the first academic year (or two, in my case) don’t count towards my final grade.

The marks are out of 90, and mean the following:

Anything over 70: A first.

60-70: 2:1

50-60: 2:2

40-50: A third.

My first mark was a 56, so a strong 2:2. I was a little disheartened by this at first. While my first year’s marks don’t count, I obviously want to be hitting the 2:1 scale before they start to count. Also, some applications for work experience schemes will ask how you did in your first year. Surely this was not an auspicious start.

However, I felt a lot better after reading the marking comments and discussing it with the tutor who marked the papers. The places where I lost marks really fell into two main areas. Formatting and quoting. Essentially, I didn’t annotate properly, and I didn’t realise that I should quote from legal journals as well. I knew the stuff. I found relevant cases and judgements. I realised what the important points were, and addressed them. I had actually read some of the journals for pointers, but incorrectly thought we were obliged to only quote cases.

I’m actually feeling pretty good about this now. I’m told that if I had known to address these issues, my mark would have been on the border of a 2:1 or a first. This means I’m on the right track. My only complaint is that I should have received the mark for my first piece of work before the second was due. I didn’t. When the second mark came back, it was marked down for all the same reasons (I got a 58, a shade off a 2:1). Had I received the first feedback in time, it would have achieved the magic mark.

All in all, I’m feeling pretty good about it. There is work to do, but there is every indication that I’m capable of doing it. Before the end of December, I’d not written an essay in about 12 years. I was really worried that the actual academia part of the degree. While these marks aren’t exceptional, they are an indication that I can do it. I’m feeling pretty good.

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*Irony: Most lawyers I know say they learned all the important lessons in the vocational part of training.

In the last post, I talked about what happens after you’ve completed the LLB. If you intend to become a lawyer, you go off to do one of the two post degree vocational courses, and then join the fight for either a training contract or a pupillage.

If, like me, you have decided that you do want to work in the law after your degree, you essentially have two decisions to make. Do you want to be a barrister or a solicitor? And which area of law do you wish to practice in?

As I said last time, it’s no use making these decisions halfway through your third year, in the majority of cases. There’s no point setting your sights on international contract dispute management if all of your optional modules were geared towards, say, human rights in the UK. The ship has sailed, and you forgot to make sure you were on the right one.

I keep returning to the point that it’s never too early to make these choices, and that it can easily be too late. So I must know exactly what I’m aiming for, right? Wrong. I’ve not got a clue. I haven’t yet made the basic choice about whether to choose the route of a barrister or a solicitor.

Being a barrister is the bit all law students dream of, right? When we set out on this course, we imagine ourselves strutting around the court, robed and wigged, setting the world to rights. Advocacy is a seductive role. But I also really feel the attraction of being a solicitor. Building a relationship with clients, giving advice that could avoid court altogether. Both streams appeal, but I’ve got to pick one.

Becoming a barrister seems slightly harder, as it is much more competitive. It’s also a little less secure, as the barrister is basically self employed, paying fees and rent to the chambers he or she gets into. If you join a chambers, you’re essentially joining an organised collective, rather than a firm. But it is appealing, which is why it’s massively oversubscribed, and people are fighting tooth and nail to get appointed anywhere.

Becoming a solicitor isn’t easy either. It’s also oversubscribed, but perhaps not as badly as the Bar. I don’t want to make this sound like the “soft option,” because it’s not. I really do find the idea of being a solicitor as appealing, but for different reasons.

As well as this, there’s the sector. I already have some ideas, like any early Law student must. I don’t think I’ve any interest in tax law. Arguing about whether a jaffa cake constitutes a cake or a biscuit seems to me slightly like arguing about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin. A diversion at most. Shame, because tax law is, I’m given to understand, very well paid.

So what appeals to me right now? Well, each of the following does:

Crime

Employment

Intellectual Property

Human Rights

Communications (with particular reference to current online comms)

Shipping (This one sticks out on this list)

Immigration

See what I mean? That list is purely off the top of my head, without looking into anything too hard. Others will come up. I may complete an area of study and find I love it, and I’m good at it.* I may complete one I thought I’d love, and hate it. Who knows?

I’m doing what I can to whittle this list down. I’ve already been (tentatively) offered a mini-pupillage in one of these areas. I am unutterably excited by this. As well as looking good on a CV, I will see the process close up, and hopefully get a good opportunity to ask a lot of questions. I’m doing what I can to seize this chance with both hands.

As well as things like these (and I will start to apply for vacation schemes and the like soon), I need to look at some of the information about the profession. Money isn’t the big thing, but how much do some sectors earn? If I’ve got a straight choice between two areas, but one earns three times the amount of the other, I’d be mad to not consider that.** Which areas are more employable? I’d like to see figures about the ratio of applicants to places broken down by sector, but I can’t find anything.

I like the idea of being a “high street” solicitor. I like the idea of employment advocacy. I like the idea of being a criminal defence barrister. I like the idea of advising on Human Rights, or communications disputes, or standing up for unrepresented asylum seekers, or a dozen other things. But I can’t do them all.

I will have to pick, and soon. But at the moment, I’m just enjoying to occasional decent argument about legal theories, and preparing for exciting work experience opportunities. I’ll let you know how I get on.

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*A good example of this: I thought I’d hate both tort law and property, but I’m actually starting to find them really interesting.

** I’m in the enviable position of not having kids, so as long as I earn a comfortable wage, I’m reasonably happy.

There are many common misconceptions about law and the legal process that pop up in the public eye or mainstream media. For the most part, these are understandable, but can lead to serious misunderstandings. I would like to address some of these as they pop up here and there. Today, I’d like to look at pressing charges.

We often see reports saying that person A is pressing charges against person B, or signs in shops saying that they will press charges against any shoplifters. In terms of criminal charges, these are misguided. This thinking is perhaps a hangover from the times when prosecutions were brought by private individuals. With some exceptions*, most criminal prosecutions are brought by one body: the Crown Prosecution Service.

To use an example, let’s imagine that Fred Smith goes for a drink with his mate Dave Jones. After a drink or two, Fred and Dave begin to argue. Dave storms off to the toilet, leaving Fred on his own at the table, with Dave’s items on the table. Fred stands up, slips Dave’s expensive new phone into his pocket, and walks home before Dave returns. Dave returns to the table, realises his phone is gone, and reports it to the Police.

As it happens, this pub has CCTV inside and out. The report is assigned to an officer, who goes to the pub and watches the CCTV. This is of good quality, and clearly shows Fred stand up, slip the phone into his pocket and walk out.

The officer has now established what has happened. We know where the phone went, and how. The important issue now is why. There’s a reason for this. Every criminal offence contains points to prove. Theft is a pretty simple one: A theft occurs if a person dishonestly appropriates an item belonging to another, with the intention to permanently deprive that person of it. The offence is not complete until all of these criteria have been fulfilled. If the taking of the item is not dishonest, it’s not a theft. If the intention is not to permanently deprive, it’s not a theft.

Why is this? Well, there are a few reasons. Let us imagine that Fred wakes up the next day, calls Dave and says: “I’m sorry mate, I’ve got your phone. I never intended to keep it, I just wanted to annoy you for the night after we argued.” This could be construed as a prank, an intended annoyance between two friends who have temporarily fallen out. There is an important distinction to notice here: Fred is saying he never intended to keep the phone or keep it away from Dave. He claims he never intended to permanently deprive. Whether this is believed or not is a matter of perception, possibly to be decided by a court.

Now let’s imagine it slightly differently. On his way home, Fred flings the phone into the river, chuckling as he does so. Some people might consider that theft has no occurred, because Fred does not profit by it. This is not so. The phone has been dishonestly appropriated (he slipped it into his pocket when his friend was unaware), and Dave isn’t getting it back. The offence is complete.

Now let’s imagine a third option. Fred wakes up, realises he has the phone, and immediately calls Dave. He tells Dave he is sorry, that he was angry, and he will return the phone. He did intend to give the phone to his son, but thought better of it in the morning. Is the offence complete? Surely not, if Fred has now called in to offer the phone back? Well, it’s not quite that clear cut. If we accept that Fred did, when he pocketed the phone, intend to dispose of it, then at the time he took the phone the intention was to permanently deprive. The offence is complete. Whether charging him with the offence is in the public interest is a different matter that the CPS will have to consider.

But what does this have to do with who presses charges? Well, consider it a primer. Let’s say the last example is the one we’re working with. Let’s say that the report is made before Fred calls Dave to offer the phone back, and the report is allocated to PC Pelham. PC Pelham goes to the pub, watches the CCTV, and sees Fred pocket the phone before walking off. He updates Dave on the matter, who says he’s just had a voicemail from Fred, explaining how daft he feels, how he regrets it now, and he’ll be right round to drop off the phone. Dave explains to PC Pelham that he doesn’t want to press charges because Fred is his friend, and he’s got his phone back anyway.

This is where the fallacy is. If anyone is to press charges and take the matter to court, it will be the CPS. PC Pelham will provide the evidence to a CPS lawyer, who will decide if the charge is to be authorised. Dave would never have been the man to press the charge, so his desire to not do so is relatively immaterial.

Now, in this case, the CPS would very likely not authorise the charge. It is a minor offence, the victim does not wish to support a prosecution, and the phone is back with the owner. As well as deciding if the offence has been committed, the CPS must consider two other factors: Is there a realistic prospect of conviction, and would this be in the public interest? It could be argued that the answer to both of these questions is no. If Dave isn’t willing to say Fred stole his phone in court, there are obvious problems.

So why is this the case? Why does the victim not get the ultimate say in whether charges are brought? Well, there are some sound reasons for this. Let’s imagine a domestic violence victim. Let’s assume, for the sake of argument, that the victim is female, and the abuser is her male partner.**

One night, Mr Bloggs kicks Mrs Bloggs down the stairs. He’s a nasty piece of work, and Mrs Bloggs has nowhere else to go. She doesn’t report it, but the hospital are concerned, and they tell the Police about her injuries. The Police arrive and speak to Mrs Bloggs on her own, not in the presence of Mr Bloggs. Mrs Bloggs breaks down, and admits to years of abuse.

Now, in this situation, what do you think happens if Mrs Bloggs has the final say on whether charges are levelled against her husband? Mr Bloggs waits until she is released, grabs her by the throat, and makes it perfectly clear what will happen if the charges aren’t dropped. He never gets to court, the cycle repeats, and eventually we’re at Mrs Bloggs’ graveside. If we’re lucky, Mr Bloggs is in cuffs, but it’s not likely. However, if the onus is taken away from Mrs Bloggs, and the charging decision made by a third party, the only thing left to consider is whether there is a realistic chance of convicting Mr Bloggs. He knows that threatening Mrs Bloggs won’t affect that decision.

Whether or not the CPS always get those decisions about whether to charge or not correct is a different matter, but it is plain to see that the reasons for the decision resting with a third party are sound.

*There are some other bodies that can bring criminal prosecutions, such as Trading Standards, HMRC and others. I’m restricting this to the example of the CPS, purely to make it clear that criminal proceedings are brought by a body, rather than individuals or victims.

** This is the majority of cases, but it’s important to remember that it’s not the exclusive scenario. Men are abused by women, and same sex relationships aren’t exempt either.

When you start studying Law, you’d better be ready for a good argument. If you’ve not got the basic skills for that, you’d better learn. And quickly. Much of studying and practicing law is putting across your side of an argument across, and if all you can bring to the table is “I’m right because I am”, then you’re dead in the water.

The first module we started with was an introduction to Law. It was a two hour arguing session. I was amazed at the arguments people put forward, and how they did it. I’ve recently heard all kinds of gems, both in class and out. I’ve been told how the Germans are all authoritarian and violent, how wikileaks has proven that AIDS was invented in a lab in the Congo, how we obviously didn’t land on the moon, and other gems. Now, when challenged, most of these arguments have devolved into “It is true, I promise.” This isn’t an argument. It’s an assertion, backed up with nothing. If I, or others, challenge you, and your best response is akin to stamping like an angry child, then you’ve lost. You brought a knife to a gunfight, and it didn’t work out. You simply didn’t bring the tools for the job.*

If you want to make an argument, keep some things in mind:

– Don’t just say “this is the way things are”. I’m looking at that point about Germans here. If you’re going to make sweeping claims about an entire nation, and the way they act, you’d better be able to back it up. If you can only point to the Nazis, then sorry, you’re not trying. A nation did a thing once does not equal a nation always does that thing.

– Choose your examples wisely. Now, when the point about Germans was made, I had to listen to how one person had an ex that spent some time in Germany, and knew a couple of people like that. Well, bully for you. It proves nothing. I heard about how someone else had been there once. In total, they had experience of less then ten Germans, and most of those second hand. If your evidence group isn’t enough for a football team, it’s not enough to extrapolate to an entire nation. I could, at this point, have pointed out that I spent nearly ten years in Germany as an army child. I could have pointed out that I go there about once a year. But that destroys the point. It’s not relevant. It’s one person’s experience of life in that country.

– But do bring evidence. The Wikileaks/AIDS thing? Not a scrap. Nothing. My point was this: If this news had been in there, and there was proof that one of the most devastating diseases of our time was a man made atrocity, wouldn’t the media have picked up on it? If you can’t evidence a claim like that, you’re going to get laughed at. I am going to ask where your tinfoil hat is.

– Ad hominem is bad. Ad hominem attacks are where you attack the person, and not the argument. If you can’t pick apart the argument being made, don’t go after the person. It makes you look stupid. If your response to my point about how everyone deserves a fair trial is to attack me personally, you’ve lost. You’ve got no point to make, and you’re just embarassing yourself. With that in mind…

– Stay calm, be reasonable. If your response to my argument is to tell me to “f*** off”, well, see above. You might have decent and valid points, but no-one’s going to listen to them if you preceded them by swearing at them. If you can’t be reasonable, no-one is going to think your argument is reasonable. If you can’t keep to this basic rule of discourse, your chances of changing minds are very slim.

– Admit when you’re wrong. Cede the ground when a superior argument has been made. If you’re doing this with the smaller points, then you’re stronger for the bigger points. Learn to say “I’m sorry, I take that back”, or “I take your point there”. Otherwise you’re just a can rattling in the wind. No argument will change you, and no-one else will feel that they should change.

In outlining all of this, I’m addressing myself as much as anyone else. I’m just picking up these skills, and I’m sure I will be on the wrong end of a good beating every now and again when I get it wrong. This isn’t an exhaustive list of do’s and don’ts either. Right, who wants an argument?

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*This you/I language makes it sound like I’m holding myself up as a fine example of how to do it right. I’m not. It’s just a bugger to write this any other way.

One of my biggest worries when I started my degree was whether I had left it too late to become a solicitor. I will be 36 when I finish, and 37 when I’ve done either of the vocational qualifications. Would I be too long in the tooth for someone to take on? Would I be doing an expensive degree only to find out the market had no use for me? In the end, I decided that this was something I’do always wanted to do, and even if it didn’t lead to anything, a good quality degree never hurts. Besides, I was doing this to prove to myself that I could. So I got on with it.

Recently, I’ve started looking into this again. I’ve read a few contradictory things, and was a little unsure. The other day, I tweeted this concern, not particularly expecting anything other than other mature students giving their thoughts and experiences.

Imagine my surprise then when Charon QC dropped me a line offering to have a chat about my prospects. In the offline world, the man behind Charon is a respected academic lawyer who co-founded the BPP law school. When talking about legal education and career prospects, he knows of which he speaks.

We spoke for a while about my CV, my studies and my aims. The key things to take away from the conversation were as follows:

1) It’s not too late. A lot of firms value a bit of life experience. My work experience is directly relevant, and that can only help. Entry to the Magic Circle firms might be out of my reach, because they like to get them young, and train them up in their ways. As this was never where my interests were, I’m ok with that. For everyone else, my circuitous route to law might be an advantage.

2) My grade will be all important. This isn’t specific to my situation. Law is apparently the most popular degree in the UK now, and while many of these students won’t be pursuing a legal career, there are only a finite number of jobs. Less than a 2:1, and I can forget it, especially as I can’t point to recent A-level results as proof of academic quality.

3) Put the work in. Obvious, I know, but there are no shortcuts. Be thorough, learn the cases, know the precedents. If you don’t bother, why should a firm employ you above someone who did? Trust me, they have plenty to choose from.

Overall, the talk was massively encouraging, and very helpful. I really appreciate that someone who knows their stuff on this subject took the time to go through things with me. I’m realistic, but I know if I get it right, I can still get into the industry. This simple fact gives me great encouragement.

As it happens, a couple of days later, something else popped up, that gave me cause to question one of the assumptions I’ve made here. I will talk about that one shortly.

Read this link

Meet Nicky Wishart. Nicky attends school in Eynsham, Oxfordshire. Eynsham is near Witney, in David Cameron’s constituency, making Nicky one of Cameron’s constituents. Nicky attends a youth centre, presumably in the same district. That youth centre is due to close next year, due to budget cuts.

Now, we are often told that the young are not political enough. That they do not vote enough. That they are disillusioned and disenfranchised before they are able to become part of the political system. Nicky, to his credit, gave the lie to this, and organised a peaceful picket of Cameron’s constituency office. Note: not his home, his car, his kids’ schools, but the place from which the business of democracy in his constituency is carried out. Further note: picket. Not riot. Not direct action, or anything else one could read as a euphemism, a picket.

Now, somehow, Thames Valley Police found out about this. I do not know how, and it is relatively unimportant. A public demonstration was being organised, and it is right and proper that they found out, as they can then effectively police said demonstration. Let’s assume someone knew this, and told them about the demo.

What concerns me is what happened next. The story I have linked to states that it was anti terror police that visited the school. I suspect that this is not the case. Most areas have a designated schools officer, who will cover a couple of schools, and deal with what happens in those schools. This normally means bullying that has become sufficient to become a legal (rather than educational) issue, the sort of thefts that happen in schools, and behavioural issues which are again serious enough to warrant police involvement. I am happy to accept Thames Valley Police’s statement that it was one of these officers that became involved, as it seems the most likely explanation. Occam’s Razor and all that.

Whichever flavour of Police officer it was, there was a warrant card and a uniform. They spoke to the school, and Nicky was taken out of class. This is not in dispute. Nicky was taken to speak to the Police officer, in the presence of the head of the school. Again, not in dispute. A member of staff called Nicky’s parents, explained that the police had arrived, and wanted to speak to Nicky about something on Facebook. Thames Valley Police have not disputed this either.

Now, this is where accounts diverge. Thames Valley Police told the Guardian that: “On Tuesday 7 December, our schools officer for west Oxfordshire attended the school in Eynsham and spoke to a 12-year-old boy in the company of the pupil’s head of year, about a planned protest. This was not with the intention of dissuading him from organising it, but to obtain information regarding the protest to ensure his and others’ safety. As with any demonstration, we always aim to facilitate a peaceful protest.”

Nicky gives a slightly different account. He states that he was told that “if a riot breaks out we will arrest people and if anything happens you will get arrested because you are the organiser.” The officer apparently had more information for Nicky: “He said even if I didn’t turn up I would be arrested and he also said that if David Cameron was in, his armed officers will be there ‘so if anything out of line happens …’ and then he stopped.”

Now, there are lots of points to consider here. Was it right that the Police spoke to Nicky? Well, yes. It would have been right to approach him to say “We understand you’re planning a protest. Tell us what the plans are, and we can work with you to ensure that a peaceful protest ensues.” However, Nicky is 12. And had done nothing wrong. This being the case, Nicky’s mother, who lives 10 minutes from the school, should have been contacted. This isn’t a kid that’s been throwing rocks through windows. If it were, and he were in trouble, she would have been contacted. To not do so before speaking to him gives the impression (valid or not) that you are trying to catch him on the hop. If Police forces are trying to outfox schoolkids, we’re in trouble as a nation. Now I’m sure that’s not the motivation. I’m sure someone higher up gave them a talk without tea and biscuits, and demanded instant info on the demonstration. I’m sure this lead to not contacting his parents before speaking to him. This doesn’t make it ok. It just means you had a slightly less nefarious reason for cocking up. This information should not have been relayed by the school.

Now, the next bit is in dispute. Thames Valley Police say they had no intention of dissuading Nicky from protesting. But Nicky says he was told “if a riot breaks out we will arrest people and if anything happens you will get arrested because you are the organiser.”

Got that? You started it, you get nicked. Fair enough, right? No. Not at all. Not even a bit. If I organise a chess club meeting, and the top chess player shoves a pawn into someone’s eye because they lost, I don’t get nicked for assault. BECAUSE I DIDN’T BLOODY DO IT. Organising something does not, in any way, make you responsible for everything that happens there. Football club directors don’t spend the night in the cells when hooligans kick off. It’s a very basic point of law that you are responsible for your own actions, not another’s. Now, I know you can point to offences such as incitement, coercion, conspiracy etc. That’s a mistake. Those offences are still and action. The offender still had to coerce, conspire, incite. There is no evidence whatsoever that Nicky did any of these things. If he were arrested for the actions of others, someone would have some explaining to do.

Nicky also states that he was told that he could still be arrested if these things happened, but he wasn’t there. Utter, utter nonsense. If I organise a football match, and am unable to attend myself, I’m not liable to prosecution if the goalkeeper beats the star striker with a corner flag. Are Thames Valley Police stating that it is Nicky’s job, as organiser, to police the demo? Is a 12 year old boy more accountable for the actions of those attending a demonstration than trained, equipped, well backed Police officers? No. It’s a ludicrous suggestion, and one that can only be intended to intimidate.

And now we come to the finest part. The mention of armed police officers. There is a way we could see this as reasonable. Perhaps if the officer said to the organiser something like the following:

“Look, this demo is all well and good. I understand you have your valid reasons for it. I understand you intend no violence. But do remember this is the occasional place of work of the leader of our country. Please ensure that those attending know that if they try anything like breaking in the back door, the man out the back with an MP5 might not know it’s a protesting schoolboy. I want no tragic accidents here.”

However, what Nicky describes is not that. His description sounds more like a hired heavy walking round a china shop advising that “it would be a shame if something were to happen.”

Certain issues must be borne in mind. The story hit the Guardian website at 1749 today. There is time for further developments. We must consider the following:

There are discrepancies between the accounts of Nicky and Thames Valley Police. The school might be able to come out and say which they heard, but at the moment, they say they are “dealing with [the matter] internally”. I find that disappointing, as much light could be shed by their account.

Nicky is a scared 12 year old, normally confident, but terrified because the Police are speaking to him about public demonstrations. His account could well be slightly exaggerated, through no fault of his own. However, we find ourselves returning to that original mistake of not asking his mother to attend. If she had, an adult recollection of the meeting might be available, however biased. I keep returning to this with almost every point, as it is fundamental. I see no reason, at the moment, that Thames Valley Police did not contact her and request her attendance at the meeting.

I would like to know the following:

1. Was Nicky really told he would be liable for arrest if criminal acts were carried out by the attendees? Was he told this was true even if he didn’t attend?
2. Did the officer warn Nicky about firearms officers in the way he described?
3. What information did Thames Valley Police seek about the demonstration to arrange the meeting with Nicky? Was this obtained?
4. Most importantly, above all, why was Nicky’s mother not contacted? This thread runs through everything that is said on the subject after that. It is, in my view, a basic omission that massively undermines anything the force might have to say on the subject in future.

You have a right to protest. Do not be talked out of it, but conduct it in a peaceful and contructive manner. If you are requested to attend a police meeting, take a witness. Or a tape recorder. Or both.

And you are not, in any circumstances, liable to be prosecuted because someone else did something you knew nothing about and did not suspect, even if it happened at an event you organised.

Nicky, you seem like a kid I can respect. Don’t let this incident put you off, because it sounds, at first hearing, like you had it planned right.

Thames Valley Police press office is, understandably, closed at this time.

The following is a draft from Simon Singh, via Carmen D’Cruz.

“This week is the first anniversary of the report Free Speech is Not for