Final Furlong


Written in Buenos Aires for ‘Death Cafe‘ this piece is about more about life than death – it concerns the ‘final furlong’.

For some – you might say ‘the lucky ones’ – death comes in old age, suddenly, painlessly and without warning. Others may face a long and challenging ‘final furlong’. Those of us in this group will need to prepare for death if we are to get it right – or as right as preparing for an unknown death can ever be.

Preparing for change is often one of our most difficult tasks as we age. We may be distracted by other concerns, in denial about our mortality, or simply too frail to address it. The one inevitability is that we will not escape it; so there is need to prepare well for a ‘good death’.

I shall be dealing with several aspects of ‘the final furlong’. My list is not exhaustive, nor my opinion definitive. There is more to be said, and I hope readers will add their experience and insight to produce the best-crafted approach to the process of infirmity, dying and death. Of particular interest is the less visible group who face the final furlong prematurely, before age can justify demise.

As it is unlikely that you will be given sufficient, if any advance warning of death, this advice is applicable to every adult, irrespective of age.

The first essential – to make a Will.
Recently, as a barrister I was instructed by the Official Solicitor to deal with an application in the Court of Protection on behalf of a dying woman. When younger, she had made a Will, but in the meantime her son – her sole beneficiary under her Will, had died. She was however fortunate in her final years to be cared for by a devoted step-daughter who lived with her. These were happy years until the old lady developed dementia. It was then that her historic (and now useless) Will was discovered, and her incapacity made it too late for her to make a new one.

Under the rules of Intestacy her step-daughter would receive not a penny. Within the list of the distant relatives to benefit, none had maintained contact with the old lady and most knew not of her existence. Using its inherent powers, the court indicated that it would change the Will in favour of the step-daughter, adding that there had rarely been a more deserving case. Yet the night before the hearing, the old lady died, and her step-daughter was forced to leave her home with just her clothes after 15 years as unpaid resident carer.

This tale tells of a bigger story. It speaks of the need to make, and review your Will to take account of your present circumstances. The ‘old Will in a drawer’ may be your last iniquity to a well-spent life.

My advice: after the age 25 make a Will, and update it as your life circumstances change. In later life, address your choices ‘root-and-branch’ to ensure your Will is appropriate and fair. Make a list of everything you possess, from real estate (houses and land), shares, policies and pensions – to other assets such as savings, vehicles, jewellery; then list their location. Set out your wishes in simple terms. A solicitor may prepare this for a charge, but it is possible to make your own Will by following this simple free guidance here.

The second essential – to prepare two powers of attorney.
As we age we lose capacity. At first this may be simply ‘a senior moment’ and a forgotten name. Few people reach the end of life with both memory and reasoning intact. In the future there will be many more elderly people with cognitive deficit. More concerning for a younger generation is the possibility of loss of capacity through trauma, such as car accident, major illness or stroke.

Most incidents of loss of capacity come suddenly and without warning. So it is wise to prepare powers of attorney that enable a relative or friend to make important decisions on your behalf should you lack capacity. There are two powers of attorney – one for health and welfare decisions; one to manage financial affairs. They cannot be exercised against your will, so that should not be a reason for failing to take this step.

My advice: make both at any age beyond 40 years. There is a cost to register your powers of attorney, but the cost is infinitesimal compared with the professional charges that will be involved should this choice be neglected. Ask a family member to assist you, or prepare both using the government’s on-line free service here.

The third essential – to make an Advance Decision and Advance Statement.
The advance decision sets out your instructions concerning your medical care at the end of life. Properly made and recorded, it is binding on medical professionals and relieves distressed relatives of difficult, sometimes divisive decisions. Whilst assisted dying is not currently a legal option in the UK, supported dying is. So this is your chance to specify the extent of care you would seek at various stages when your death is imminent, or should worthwhile existence have ceased.

You will be relieved to know that your advance statement is a more creative document. Here you state your preferences for care should you not be able to articulate them when the time comes. These may include where you would prefer to end your days, how and by whom you wish to be cared, by what name you wish to be addressed, what food, music and interests are important to you, and as important, what you would wish to avoid.

Preparing both the decision and the statement are simple using the free Compassion in Dying on-line support here.

Those facing terminal care should also make an advance care plan. For this you need to consult your treating physician when the time comes. Ensure that your advance decision and advance statement are attached to the care plan.


Prepare your own funeral / other arrangements.
Whilst to some this sounds a morbid topic (which it is), others find it quite empowering. You will not experience what you plan, but by preparing in advance, your family will be spared much work, stress, distress, and probably many arguments as to what is best.

At the most basic level, would you wish to be buried or cremated? Where would you wish to be buried or have your ashes scattered, how and by whom?

My mother chose her own funeral director – someone who she had known and respected. She pre-paid her funeral arrangements, as a sculptor, carved her own memorial stone, and specified the exact position where her ashes should be placed. On her death all that was required was a simple phone call – everything else was sorted.

My advice: prepare a plan. Humorously mark it “It’s My Funeral’, leave a list of who you wish to be invited, and how they may be contacted. Why not choose your favourite music, hymns, readings, and set out your wishes for a funeral breakfast or wake? Make provision for this within your Will so that the cost is clearly covered and not contested.

Where do you want to die?
In ‘The lady and the Reaper’ film we witness the conflict between the medical profession and the Grim Reaper. Hopefully, your advance decision will have taken care of this particular battle.

But there remains the issue of where you would wish to end your days. I have visited splendid care homes that are well staffed with caring people – yet often I sense the tediousness of day-to-day existence that many residents experience in a care or nursing home.

Towards the end of my mother’s life, remaining in her own home with support afforded her access to all that was familiar in a location where friends could drop by.

Others may not be so fortunate. Removal to a care home can be confusing and may be distressing. For those with mental capacity, the move is itself a form of bereavement when they let go of possessions and familiarity.

My advice: Write down your wishes. If you own your home, assess its suitability for old age, advancing infirmity and ‘the final furlong’. What is needed to allow you to remain there? Can it be adapted to afford you ground floor living? What about electronic, key-less entry for family, visitors and carers? What is the value of your home should you need to move? What other accommodation will your equity and savings afford? If you do not own your home, what alternatives are out there by way of retirement or sheltered accommodation?

If you reach the stage where you may need hospital care, do you really want to undertake this last journey and face death in a hospital bed? If not, your family and friends need to know your wishes and feelings, so that they can be respected.

Departing with dignity and saying goodbye
Most of us reach the end of life with unfinished business. It may be an argument with a relative or friend, or an unspoken acknowledgment of love, thanks or support. At the simplest level it could just be who you would wish to be informed when you die.

My advice: make a list of who you wish to be told of your death, and how they can be contacted. Write letters to those that you love, respect and will miss, together with those that you know will feel your loss. Should you have outstanding issues, you can address them in a letter sensitively – understanding that there can be no reply.

In Mitch Albom’s ‘Tuesdays with Morrie’, facing end of life, Morrie was asked what he valued most in life. His answer was unsurprising – ‘family, friends and relationships’.

Perhaps, by way of acknowledgement or repair, a word of thanks or forgiveness to our family, friends and those we have known and valued can be our final parting gift before we die?

Stephen Twist © 2017 for Death Cafe
With thanks to for the photo

Barrister of 37 years is hotel manager for 3 months



Thirty seven years of practice as a barrister must have an outcome. Silk; or judicial appointment to the High Court Bench? No.

A quiet fade-away into slippered retirement, wearing jazzy socks and carrying a secateurs? Not.

So, for what else, as professional life slips to a close, is an aging barrister qualified?

Those who know me know the answer without the help of this blog. Over the past nine years, fifteen months in Buenos Aires has told me about life, and the need to live it. It has incited me to dance Argentine tango – the tango walk, the moment, the giro, the embrace. So, when my friends said, “Come and look after Casa Luna while we are away”, the answer was a sudden and simple, yes.

Picture if you will, a warm balmy evening, the crickets cricketing across the paving stones, the soft sound of music drifting on night air, the lights low, a rustle in the trees where a slow draft of liquid air gently shakes glossy leaves. As we reach the steps to wide double doors, the music is defined as tango. Above, figures move in close embrace, feeling the dance and feeling life.

The orchestra strikes up a song from Di Sarli for a new tanda. I ‘cabeceo’ across the room to secure a mirada response from an unknown dance partner. She smiles. I walk. We meet at her table. She rises to dance. A passing tanguero nods for us to enter the pista. We embrace and we walk. I feel her weight, her balance, and the tenderness of her touch. I smell her perfume, and allow the infinite structure of the music to dictate the rest.

We dance the tanda of three songs, each taking us further and further into the moment of the dance, before the cortina indicates that we part. Light suffuses, our breathing synchronises, we experience that ‘melting moment’ of connection when dance becomes life, and life becomes dance. Deeper and deeper, until there is no more depth to explore. The music ceases. We stand for a moment before returning to her seat. This is the milonga of Buenos Aires. This is the magic of dance.

Seven thousand miles from England. But a million miles from legal practice on the North Eastern Circuit. Courts and clients fade to distant memory. ‘Not before 10.30 at Teesside Combined Court Centre’ ceases to have meaning. We leave the milonga at 6 am, a taxi awaits, it races through deserted streets until we reach our leafy bario, collecting media lunas (tiny sweet croissant) and brewing fresh coffee as the sun rises before another glorious balmy day.

So, there it is. Until April, Casa Luna, Buenos Aires shall be my home, a place filled with sunlight, and anchored with an embrace.

If you want to know more about this particular journey, do not stay here – for this page will be silent until April. Simply visit to learn about and follow the life of a tango dancing barrister in Buenos Aires – the ‘ups and downs’ of Argentine life, and this special connection to another world.

Advocacy – a low in Family Courts, or a sign of the times?

bald faced

With thanks to Mark Anderson for use of his cartoon

After 37 years of practice at the Bar – out of touch? I hope not as much as you would expect. Moved with the times? Now, here you can judge.

Today’s blog concerns family court advocacy.

I have not always been a family practitioner. There was a time – up to 1997 – when my practice involved largely criminal defence and regulatory work. After a diet of inner and outer London Crown Courts, and of course, the Central Criminal Court, I moved to the North Eastern Circuit to spend my time in the Crown Courts of Yorkshire. It follows that my advocacy skills were seated in the demands and honed by the constraints of plain speaking criminal advocacy.

The process was simple. Examination involved asking questions. Non-leading questions. The simpler, the better. Each question could, and frequently was prefaced with the words “who, what, where, when, how, why”. The aim of the question was to elicit a reply, and the reply was the evidence. Oral evidence was the currency of the court.

Cross examination permitted leading questions – where a direction or suggested answer occurs naturally within the question. Previous inconsistent statements could be put to a witness and tested by questioning – “here, you said ‘a’; now you say ‘b’; why the difference?”

Beyond those simple rules, we did not stray. To do so would result in the judge stopping line of questioning and the defective question prevented. Save for older silks, most complied, and we got along fine.

Whilst the admissibility of affidavits and statutory declarations has always been permitted, there came a time when pre-prepared statements were encouraged, and later required. In civil proceedings, the statements were to stand as the witness’ evidence, and it would be on their written statement that they would be tested in cross examination.

As a process, this lasted ‘but five judicial minutes in a long legal landscape’. Advocates used the statements to prepare the ground, rather than setting it. So it is rare today that witnesses are called and tendered on the basis of their written statement. Instead, advocates track through already deposed facts and recollections, and judges sit silently permitting this to happen, as if they hear the revelation for the first time.

But the main current transgression in advocacy skills, is the use by advocates of ‘comment’ dressed elaborately as a question. We all know that there is a massive difference between questions, assertions and comments. The first is designed to elicit evidence, and the others are an argumentative measure of the questioner’s opinion.

Habitually in family courts, lines of questioning are loaded with comment, or flung at witnessed as assertions. Some practitioners may say this is simply to ‘set the scene’ for a question. Mostly, the scene does not need to be set, and the assertive comment from an advocate is entirely out of place where the judge has read the evidence bundle. Maybe this is the problem – maybe the judges haven’t and the advocates are seeking to describe the case to the judge, rather than question the witness on their evidence?

The more judges permit it to occur, the more it happens, to the point of normalising the ‘assertive-comment question’. The clarity of the process is not the only casualty; another is a diminution of the skill of the advocate. As opinion and evidence blur, so does the original integrity of the purpose and function of questioning witnesses. Witnesses are not simply confronted – which is good; but bullied, confused and invited to argument – which is cruel, unnecessary and to my view, unprofessional.

The flaw now appears ubiquitous in family courts, as family judges sit back and listen to comment-laden questions fired repetitively, to the point that when it comes to closing submissions (or comment) there is not a fresh comment to make.

Some suggest that the family courts have ‘floated away from the mainstream civil legal process’, with altered rules of evidence and procedure. Yes, family courts have a special, human job to do -one that frequently requires a more informal approach -but the casualties of free-for-all questioning are extensive, not least the skill and ability of advocates to question without comment.



Its my money. Trust me!


Over the final half of my 37 years as a barrister in private practice, I have been arguing over money.

Not mine, I hasten to add, but other people’s. In particular, divorcing spouses or cohabitees. There comes a time after almost every separation when two people who have lived together and loved, start to argue about the spoils. Those that can afford it rush to a solicitor or direct access barrister and commence battle. Those that cannot pay may chose to go it alone.

Either way, they have embarked on a battle from which there is little respite – until they run out of money, of energy, or are crushed at court in a final hearing.

But the purpose of this blog is not to bemoan honest,hard-working people spending inordinate amounts of their money on lawyers and in courts. It is to examine the fundamental flaws of financial remedy proceedings (as the financial arrangements are called in court).

My first observation is prosaically procedural. How is it that going to court to argue financial splitting of assets can remotely be justified? The cost of this process starts at £12,000 for the couple, and soars to a dizzy £100-120,000 in more complex cases. In J v J the parties managed to rack up £920,000 in costs between them, much to the judicial amazement and displeasure of Mr Justice Mostyn. Do they get a return on their investment? J v J didn’t; and generally, the chances are – not.

Readers of my earlier blogs will recall my commentary on the alternatives of mediation and arbitration, which I will not repeat here. Guidance by a single expert makes sense, assuming the expert knows what a judge would do, and that both parties agree to be bound by the outcome. There is, of course, the other ‘questionable’ alternative of splitting at the outset by way of pre or post-nuptual agreement.

My main concern here is to do with the philosophy of division where children are involved. In fact, my problem goes further – to question of ‘ownership’ and ‘responsibility’.

The financial wars that I have witnessed rarely focus on the children. Yes, this may be the court’s first consideration when it comes to making an order, but the children seem to remain ‘bit players’ in the battles, unless they are to be used as weapons to secure a greater share of the booty for one of the parents.

So, what would happen if we changed the rules?

Imagine this. When two people decide that they are to have children, they would do so in the knowledge that they forfeit ownership of property to them? How would that be?

Simple. The law would deem that all matrimonial property vested immediately in trust for the children, and that each parent became a trustee for the child. Rather than children being ‘the first consideration’ for a court, a child or children would be deemed to be the beneficial owners of all of the property. There would no longer be the ‘divvy up’ entitlement of assets to to each parent; there would be an appropriate of provision for the parents’ immediate needs and no more. The rest would be managed exclusively to provide everything that their child would need through to the age of 21.

What a glorious world that would be – children placed, where they deserve and need to be – at the centre of decision making as the beneficiary and responsibility of their parents’ endeavours.

But will such ever come to pass? Of course not. We have neither the imagination to prioritise children over parental greed, nor the legal system to oversee it.

Instead, we will continue to subsidise the lifestyle of lawyers (of which I am one). But, long may it continue – for after all, what value the future of our children?

Circling restorative justice – are we missing a trick?


If it is a distinction to have been part of the exponential development of mediation in the late 1990’s – then I suppose I have that distinction. It was an exciting time – when Harry Woolf made his transition from Master of the Rolls to Lord Chief Justice of England, and with his elevation, the insertion of alternative dispute resolution into the Civil Procedure Rules of England[1].

They were interesting times too. We felt we had invented mediation – it seems forgetting the Conciliation Act of 1896, and the earlier peace circles of ancient civilisations. But commercial mediation spread like a shoal, spawning a vast fry of ADR, arbitration, med-arb, conciliation and early neutral evaluation.

Whilst professionals and others found ways to make money from the dispute resolution industry, restorative justice crept up on the nets with relative invisibility – or was it simply that we commercial mediators were not looking?  It seems that we in England had totally missed the pioneering efforts in 1992 of Canadian judge Stuart J in R v Moses. But following the success of initiatives in Northern Ireland, the restorative approach went on to capture both hearts and imaginations across the UK, and since then, whether by democratic socialism, or the post-Thatcherite hashtag ‘Big Society’, restorative justice has become well and truly embedded in post-sentence youth justice.

The Northern Irish experience showed that outside service providers – public authorities, police or private institutions – were unable to penetrate tight-knit, segregated communities. When it came, change resulted not from managed community initiatives, but from the vision and application of individuals – from people. They were the visionaries that recruited others not by salary, but by conscience –  involving ordinary, local people meeting other people with problems of conflict – to listen, to help, to suggest and to empower, with a belief that change is possible.

The concept of the restorative circle is integral to the community restorative process, although I have to admit that when I first encountered circles at the European Forum for RJ conference ‘Beyond Crime – pathways to desistance, social justice and peacebuilding’ in 2014 with Professor Dr Evelyn Zellerer, I was skeptical. The idea seemed a little too ‘touchy-feely’ for my commercial mediation tastes. It was only after participating in a circle, that I became hooked. Since then I have introduced circles into my model of dispute resolution and participated in countless circles with other practitioners.

But, what of its use within criminal justice as part of the sentencing process?

In R v Moses, Barry Stuart observed, “Many might debate the extent any decision-making process shapes the result, but indisputably process can be as determinative as content. In sentencing, process profoundly influences the result. The process influences, not just what, and how matters are addressed, but who participates and what impact each person has in shaping the final decision”.

“Currently the search for improving sentencing process champions a greater role for victims of crime, reconciliation, restraint in the use of incarceration, and a broadening of sentencing alternatives that involves less government expenditure and more community participation. As many studies expose the imprudence of excessive reliance upon punishment as the central objective in sentencing, rehabilitation and reconciliation are properly accorded greater emphasis. All these changes call upon communities to become more actively involved and to assume more responsibility for resolving conflict. To engage meaningful community participation, the sentence decision-making process must be altered to share power with the community, and where appropriate, communities must be empowered to resolve many conflicts now processed through criminal courts”.

What was achieved here was revolutionary at the time, and transformative in its effect. The role of professionals in court was changed, a wider array of interested parties (including family) were included, more and better information was received, and a bigger range of options created. Here was a sharing of responsibility involving both offender and victim – to a higher and more constructive degree than in the conventional sentencing process – using community resources and strengths to give greater reach.

What has happened since? Restorative circles remain a central and most effective way to produce acknowledgment of harm and changes in recidivism. Youth offenders will frequently find themselves involved in restorative circles with their victims and justice professionals. Yet English courts have not seized this opportunity fully, especially with regard to the sentencing process itself.

Will restorative justice languish as yet another service level industry, managed on the periphery by ‘providers’, delivered by paid practitioners, and destined to join the fads of failed initiatives?

Restoration cannot be ‘delivered’ as if from Amazon, dropped off by Parcel Force to be signed for by the customer. It is not a commodity. It is not a service. It involves a change in the way we relate to offenders. And it should start with the courts themselves when considering sentence, rather than an afterthought as an adjunct to punishment.


[1] CPR 1(4)e

Let’s leave the party….

child protection


Back in February 2014, I raised a question about ‘party status‘ in relation to private law proceedings concerning children – cases where parents disagree about the care and upbringing of their children. To save the reader returning to it, I was simply querying whether giving parents in conflict, the right to manage proceedings in relation to their children was right or appropriate for the twenty first century?

Since then, I have had a number of discussions with other lawyers about public law cases, and their responses have been surprising.

For the uninitiated, public law proceedings concerning children relate to situations where local authority children’s social services feel the need to be involved with families to protect children from harm. The harm may come from poor or inappropriate parenting, downright dangerous lack of care, or even an outside threat from extended family or friends.

As a civilised society, we need local authorities to be proactive in this role, as much as we may instinctively hate the idea of children being removed from their parents -and the only home they have known.

Under a regime introduced by the President of the Family Court, local authorities may have involvement with families for a substantial period of time before proceedings are issued in court. By seeking to work with parents, social workers may be able to achieve sufficient improvement in care that parents may provide good enough parenting and matters need not go to court.

As lawyers for parents and children, we become involved when all attempts to provide a safe home and upbringing appears to have failed. Then the local authority will issue an application in a family court for a public law order – maybe a care, supervision, or even a placement for adoption order. Only now is a guardian for the child or children appointed, and even here their active role is limited.

However, public resources are provided for the parents or carers of the child. Parents become ‘respondents’ to the application brought by the local authority, and have a right to publicly funded representation. The court then wrestles with the dichotomy between the rights of the parents to their family life, and the rights of the child to protection.

So, what is my concern?

Well, it is simple. At a time of limited resources and huge pressures on public funding, why are the parents appointed (and funded) to be drivers of the case? Why do we insist on an adversarial approach in every case involving local authority intervention? Why are parents pitted against social workers backed up by social services lawyers? With legislation that is supposed to be ‘child centred’, why is not the voice of the child – or the independent professional charged with representing the child – not calling the shots?

It would take a significant change in the intellectual/social/legal approach to child care cases to implement a new, totally child-focused system. We would need to go back and re-write the Children Act 1989. But how would it be if, in every case where a child was considered to be at significant risk, a properly trained, properly paid, experienced professional guardian was appointed to oversee conflict between the local authority and the parents from the point of view of the child or children?

Where proceedings were notified by the local authority, a Public Guardian Service with sufficient resources of lawyers and structures, would take over the proceedings. The parents would become compellable witnesses – having the right for their voices to be heard, thus attending to their Article 8 rights. But the case would be conducted by the Public Guardian’s Office with the needs of the child being central. The guardian’s legal team would received or obtain statements from the parents, and these – together with all the other evidence (including that of the local authority) would be considered by a family judge or tribunal.

Other lawyers will be quick to realise some of the implications of this concept. Yes, along with the loss of ‘party-status’, the parents would lose the right to be legally represented, save in cases where very serious findings against a parent may be made. Parents would become answerable to the court’s assessment of the needs of their children to be protected, rather than remaining as they are now, as central managers of the litigation. And we lawyers, who have made a living out of representing parents, would forfeit that work.

But the idea is not simply to save spending massive resources on providing representation for parents, it is to bring about a change in the culture of public law family proceedings. To get away from the adversarial, combative approach – and to substitute a system where everyone’s focus started and finished on the needs of the child. Competent guardians (supported by a Public Guardian’s Office) would encourage local authorities to engage more, and more positively, with families to secure good-enough parenting. They would determine when the whistle should be blown on parents and carers that had not responded to the chances given.

For the first time in the history of children’s litigation, the child would be centre stage – supported and resourced by those best equipped to see through the eyes of a child.

Invent some futile work


Reproduced with thanks to the Legal Aid Agency

FAS Ex506. It sounds important, doesn’t it?

Writing this blog for a mix of readers, I had better explain. First, what is a FAS Ex506?

Well, it is a ‘form’ that barristers and solicitors are required to fill it in to get paid for publicly funded work. Not, I may add, for ‘fat-cat lawyers’ – those filling in such forms are at the very bottom of the food chain when it comes to remuneration, with rates frequently lower than those for a joiner or plumber.

So, what happens to the ‘form’?

Every ‘form’ that is filled in at court is handed to the judge at the end of the case. It may be a case lasting days – or only minutes. Frequently the judge asks for the forms to be brought up to their chambers by a court official when the case is over. The judge will sit and initial entries, making sure that their signature is appended to every variable on the ‘form’. There could be up to eight signatures needed per form, and there may be up to ten ‘forms’ to be signed. Once signed, the court official carries them back to court and distributes them to each advocate in turn.

Now this is just the beginning of a journey for FAS Ex506. The advocate takes their ‘form’ back to their barrister’s chambers or solicitor’s office. Numerous other documents are added to it, including the advocate’s instructions to undertake the case on that particular day, a copy of the court’s order requiring the advocate to attend at a given time on that day, a copy of that day’s order stating what happened in court, and the advocates hand-written account of the hearing.

We now have a bundle perhaps containing over 20 pages of information – recording in minute detail every aspect of the case: what was expected to happen, what actually happened; why it happened; why what was expected to happen differed from what actually happened; what was going to happen next; what the advocate thought had, might or probably would happen; and if it didn’t happen, why not.

The bundle proceeds to a fees clerk, who checks it in meticulous detail for the slightest error. A missed signature would cause a crisis – any problems detected result in the bundle being returned to be repaired – perhaps by going back to the same judge at the same or different court on another day, for a missing signature to be added.

If approved by the fees clerk, the bundle of papers is sent to the Legal Aid Agency. Here a clerk with a NVQ in paper administration sorts all of the bundles for each case and inspects each page of each bundle for mistakes. Do the legal aid clerks receive bonuses for each bundle they reject?…for the most trivial issue will result in its return to sender. A summary that has been prepared by the fees clerk will be marked for accuracy by the legal aid clerk, and only if it passes with full marks will the request for payment be approved.

So, what is my point?

It is impossible to quantify the amount of time that is spent by the advocate, the judge, the fees clerk and the legal aid clerk simply on administration. In an era when digital data recording is preferred, why is this mountain of documents prepared and transmitted? Why the repetition of the same document frequently submitted by each advocate? Why is a judge expected to certify the information, when much of it is, or could be readily evident from the court order?

The system was introduced with little forethought. The Legal Aid Agency created their own monster, which they now administer at considerable public cost. No single person has put their mind to review or remedy this mindless exercise.

I suggest that the Legal Aid Agency gets its house in order and scraps the futile FAS Ex560. If they do not, I propose that the judges should add a further 30 minutes to each timed hearing – to account for judicial time taken in administration on behalf of the Agency. Were they to do this, I bet you can quickly guess how speedy would be the response!