Being a barrister: the best job in the world, except for when it isn’t.
Nick Pointon
Senior Lecturer in Law, University of Exeter
Barrister (2010 Call, Slytherin Lincoln’s Inn)
Fee-paid Judge of the First-Tier Tribunal
Let’s begin by disabusing ourselves of three misunderstandings about barristers. First, it isn’t really one profession. The Bar is really a collection of different professions, each with their own specialisms. A criminal barrister is about as far from a tax barrister as Taylor Swift is from Rammstein. Second, most barristers do not spend all day on their feet in court. Depending on your area of specialism, many barristers will spend most of their time working on papers. Third, and most importantly, nobody looks good in a wig and gown. Thankfully, they aren’t often worn in most areas of practice.
With that out of the way, let me tell you a bit about one of the greatest professions on earth.
The Inns of Court
What do Harry Potter and the Bar have in common (besides the fancy dress)? They each have four ancient houses or, in the Bar’s case, ‘Inns’. Every barrister belongs to one of the four Inns of Court: Lincoln’s Inn, Gray’s Inn, Inner Temple and Middle Temple (think Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, not necessarily in that order…) These are some of the most ancient institutions in the country. Historically the Inns of Court had responsibility for the training of barristers. Today they perform a variety of educational, social and culinary functions in the life of a barrister. They also ‘call’ you to the Bar, actually making you a barrister, once you have completed the Bar Course.
All students on the Bar Course must have joined an Inn of Court before they start the course, and must attend a number of ‘Qualifying Sessions’ with their Inn during that year. These sessions range from guest lectures to advocacy training, but almost always involve a nice dinner (they used to be known as ‘Dining Sessions’, such was the centrality of the culinary offering to a hungry Bar School student…)
Yet earlier involvement with the Inns is where the real money is (literally). The Inns of Court are wealthy institutions which offer a range of scholarships each year, with the majority of these being available for students on the Bar Course. Almost £6m of scholarships are awarded by the Inns each year. These range from smaller contributions to costs all the way up to prestigious ‘Major’ awards such as the Lord Mansfield Scholarships of Lincoln’s Inn (each £21,000) and Peter Taylor Scholarship of Inner Temple (£22,000). For many, myself included, this generosity of the Inns is the difference between being able to pursue a career at the Bar or not.
So which Inn do I join? The short answer is that it doesn’t really matter. Don’t worry yourself unduly about it. They are all great. The longer answer is: their approach to scholarships varies a bit. Some Inns distribute more money than others (but often have fewer members than others). Some Inns aim to interview all applicants for scholarships, whereas others will shortlist based on paper applications first. All of this information can be found on the websites of each Inn.
The Bar Course
Once you have your law degree (or your Graduate Diploma in Law, if converting from a non-law degree), it is time to go to Bar School. The name of the course changes from time to time (and from institution to institution), but it is typically called the ‘Bar Practice Course’ or ‘Bar Professional Training Couse’. It is a one-year course (if taken full-time), offered by a range of different institutions across the country. It is expensive. Fees currently range from about £12,000 to £19,000. More detail on the course, providers and costs can be found here.
Admission to the Bar Training Course is not especially difficult (you need a 2:2). The real bottleneck in the process comes at the next stage – pupillage.
Pupillage
Getting pupillage is the hardest bit of trying to become a barrister. It is fiercely competitive. The most recent Pupil Survey by the Bar Council identified that only 39% of respondents obtained pupillage in their first year of applications. Among these 39% will be some very accomplished applicants. Sadly, the reality is that many students who complete the Bar Training Course will not get pupillage.
There are two ways of applying for pupillage: first, through the ‘Pupillage Gateway’; and second, directly to ‘non-Gateway’ chambers (those who advertise their pupillages outside the Gateway). Think of the Gateway as being a bit like UCAS.
The application process varies between chambers, but typically starts with a written application form. Promising applicants at this stage are then invited for a first-round interview. This could take the form of a panel-based interview asking questions and/or a particular exercise (e.g. presenting a court application or debating a point). Many chambers will then trim the pack of applicants further still, inviting the best back for a second-round interview.
Those who get pupillage rightly feel a tremendous sense of accomplishment. But the challenge is yet to come. Pupillage is a bit like a one-year job interview. It lasts for 12 months and, towards the end, your chambers will vote on whether they wish to offer you tenancy or not. Each member of chambers has one vote. You are therefore out to impress as many people as you can.
The structure of pupillage is split into two halves. The first six months (‘First Six’) are spent shadowing your pupil supervisor and other members of chambers, assisting them with their work and observing them. The second six months (‘Second Six’) is when it gets real: at this point, you take your own cases, in your own name, and make your first appearance in court as a pupil-barrister. Most second-six pupils will have a busy diary, being sent all over the place conducting a flurry of different hearings and trials.
It is hard. There is no getting around the fact that pupillage can be a gruelling year. The aforementioned Pupil Survey recorded 88% describing stress levels as ‘moderate’ or ‘high’. Conditions have improved substantially over the years (gone are the days when the pupil was sent out to fetch the dry cleaning), but the learning curve is steep and you are surrounded by very impressive individuals.
But it is brilliant, precisely because the learning curve is steep and you are surrounded by very impressive individuals. It is often said that you learn more in one year of pupillage than in four years of Law School. No two days are the same and you are constantly being challenged, discovering the limits of your capability and then expanding those limits day after day. In terms of professional growth, it is second to none. The same survey found 90% of respondents reported a positive experience of pupillage.
In terms of personal life, the picture can be a difficult one. Yet even here, the Bar can come into its own. Camaraderie at the Bar can be fantastic. The vast majority of barristers are self-employed, working for themselves (and often by themselves). But they are also social creatures who value each other’s company, wisdom and good humour. Particularly at the junior end of the Bar, the social scene can be a vibrant and tremendously supportive place. The presence of others in your position (or still young enough to remember your position) are a vital counterweight to the pressures of the job.
Tenancy
If you impress in pupillage, chambers votes to offer you ‘tenancy’. This makes you a fully-fledged member of chambers. The training wheels are now off; it is time to build your practice. At this point, there is no salary. You ‘eat what you kill’, meaning that you are paid for the work that you do. Your reputation turns upon how well you do it. The more you impress (your instructing solicitors and your lay clients), the better the work you get. For a profession historically criticised as nepotistic, it is generally a meritocracy in this respect. You are only as good as your last case, creating a strong correlation between how good you are and how much you succeed. No two days are the same. The variety is fantastic; the adrenaline of court work addictive; and the highs of winning intoxicating.
It is, therefore, the best job in the world. Except for when it isn’t. The stress can be extraordinary. At trial your task is to represent someone and fight their corner at a time when their world might be falling down around them. They might be arguing over money, or it might be more serious: their livelihood; their right to see their children; their liberty. What you do or fail to do has enormous consequences.
Conditions are not always what you might imagine. Junior barristers might receive their papers late the night before court. They might have several cases being heard in the same day, sometimes in different courts. They might be instructed by solicitors who didn’t have the time to prepare the case properly. They might be working for legal aid rates, which are far from generous. They might not get paid for years after doing the work. They might encounter an opponent who is intransigent (a posh word for a complete prat), or a judge who is a bully. Even their client might be a thoroughly unpleasant piece of work.
But imagine if it didn’t happen. Imagine if there were no barristers. While Shakespeare might have written ‘Let’s kill all the lawyers’, the Rule of Law would collapse without us. Barristers are vital parts of the machinery of justice. The skill with which they perform their task is not merely a matter of professional pride, but a matter of societal necessity. There are other jobs of which this is true, but none of them are as good as being a barrister.


