This book has gathered dust on my shelf for a long time; it was one of those I said I’d read ‘when I retired’. Well, I retired five years ago and have only just got round to it – oh silly girl! It takes some reading and a lot of concentration but is worth the effort. I defy you not to react with shock and incredulity at some of the things it reveals.

We’ve all been in the court room, via television at least. Among others, Kavanagh QC, Judge John Deed, Law and Order and, if you’re old enough to remember the lunchtime offering, Crown Court, have all shown us what happens both in court and behind the scenes. We’ve witnessed the highs and lows, justice and injustice meted out, sometimes in equal measure, as well as the arguments between learned colleagues. It makes for great drama and entertaining viewing.

The author of this prize-winning non-fiction book is, as the title might suggest, cast in anonymity, and I can understand why, since he (funny that I naturally assume it’s a male) lifts the lid on the judicial system in this country, revealing its flaws and quirks for all to see.

...he (funny that I naturally assume it’s a male) lifts the lid on the judicial system in this country, revealing its flaws and quirks for all to see.

First, we see the nerves of the junior barrister easily thrown, even on a sure-fire case, then the anger comes through; yes, this is an angry book. We read of the abuse of the system, the weaknesses of that system, and the apparent nonchalance and lack of interest shown by many – even among those whose duty you would think it was to be interested. Even the media seems only to report the high-profile cases, not the daily farce of the real life of a barrister which can be both disheartening and frustrating.

We get a potted history of the legal system in England and Wales. Eye-watering sentences of the past now reduced to more humane terms of imprisonment, or other sanctions. There are surprises along the way, too; I didn’t realise that the two-tier system of Crown Court and Magistrates as we know it today, only came into being in 1971.

Then there’s an introduction to the characters who perform a role in a court case, what they do, how they behave (or in some cases, how they should behave). ‘The full spectrum of human behaviour’ can be observed, appropriate or not, it seems. It looks at the legal process from Magistrates Courts through Bail and Remand to Trial and Sentencing as well as considering the role of the Crown Prosecution Service. Some parts are more accessible than others. An occasional focus on victims makes it more human.

The book is eye-opening, at times shocking and definitely thought-provoking. It should be of interest to all of us ...

Daily court life is described as scenes of pandemonium – or organized chaos – you choose, especially in the halls outside the magistrates’ court, as junior barristers among others, spread themselves between several court rooms at once. And our SB obviously has little time for ‘the pantomime’ of those lower courts, usually led by lay people with minimal training in the law (just 18 hours of legal instruction), who make pronouncements often based on gut feeling rather than the advice the legally trained clerk might offer. He’s critical of the Legal Aid system and of successive governments who choose not to invest in the process of law.

The book is eye-opening, at times shocking and definitely thought-provoking. It should be of interest to all of us unless we can guarantee that we will never be the victim of crime, will never commit a crime of negligence, or never be in the wrong place at the wrong time resulting in our facing a wrongful allegation. Perhaps, though, that’s why other institutions get so much more press coverage and political attention than the legal system: as individuals, we are more likely to have personal experience of the NHS and we all have a personal investment in education, but the law? Until you find yourself embroiled in it for one reason or another, it feels like the criminal justice system is for other people. But SB tells us that innocent people and victims, as well as the guilty, are being failed by the system, that there are fundamental flaws which fail people all the time. I was, at various points, both shocked and outraged to hear about the ways in which this happens and how inaccessible legal representation can be to a growing number of people. Acquiring legal aid appears to be a minefield and if you pursue a matter at your own cost, there is no guarantee of recompense if you are ultimately found to be innocent.

I was, at various points, both shocked and outraged to hear about the ways in which this happens and how inaccessible legal representation can be to a growing number of people...

The Secret Barrister both prosecutes and defends and is adamant that the system fails both plaintiff and defendant. I am not trained in the law, have little experience of the legal system and therefore have to trust what he says and therefore, cannot but share his concern. His motivation for writing all this down seems genuine and heartfelt. First published in 2018, I don’t know if anything has changed or if we’ve been too busy with pandemics and wars and in-fighting amongst politicians, but I hope someone has taken note and at least begun the fight to make things right.

The book is interesting though despite the title, anecdotes are few; it is fascinating, informative and at times, hard-hitting, and it is a hard read, written with much the same dryness we might associate with dusty old legal tomes. As I said at the start, it requires time and concentration if you’re going to get through it, but it is a worthy read.


The Secret Barrister is published by Macmillan