To avoid the premature onset of this unfortunate and debilitating condition I have, after nineteen years working as a claimant personal injury lawyer, decided to give up my secure income and join the ranks of self-unemployed Mediators. I am hanging up my dictaphone.

When I first came across mediation as a method of dispute resolution I knew instinctively that I was mediator and not a litigator, so I re-trained. I suppose I peaked too early in my litigation career. During my time at Thompsons in Liverpool I had the good fortune of handling what appeared to be a straightforward employer’s liability broken finger claim (you know the kind of case, one for the trainee). It turned into Knowles v Liverpool City Council [1993] 4 All ER 32. I was only two years qualified when the case reached the House of Lords. My immaturity showed in the hangover I nursed on the morning of the hearing after meeting up with a university mate the night before. Still I wasn’t expected to do very much other than carry the bag and stand up when Lord Hailsham walked passed.

I was a bit disarmed and a little disappointed by the informality – grey suited men sitting around a large curved table just chatting about the case with not a fleck of ermine in sight. Intellectually I was about an hour an a half behind the conversation. Strangest of all was when a troupe of brightly clad young tourists wandered in and occupied a row at the back. They must have been as bewildered as I was as Their Lordships discussed whether or not a sandwich filler provided by the works canteen could amount to work equipment. I wonder if this quaint practice of entertaining sight-seers-on-a-budget has survived our security paranoia?

Sadly for young solicitors trying to make partner, court reporters will happily name the barristers who regaled their Lordships with wit and erudition and even the firms that instructed them but not the case handler, the one who did the real work. Well now you know.

No related posts.