City lawyers need to make sure that sexual misconduct claims are dealt with by the proper authorities

My first job after university was working as an articled clerk for a City law firm.

From memory, six of us joined that year: three men, three women. Very soon, the females started complaining quietly to us how they were the subject of sexual harassment, naming individual partners and the warning signs to look out for.

One name kept cropping up: a senior partner who was also high up in the Law Society. At one stage he was talked about as a future president of this august body. He was in charge of recruitment and training, and on the milk round, it was noted how he graduated towards the female candidates and suggested they might care to join him for dinner afterwards. This was a practice he repeated at the firm. His party trick was to ring up a young woman staff member and say he was so sorry, but he was due to be going to a dinner that night with his wife, but she’d unexpectedly had to cancel. Would you mind awfully taking her place? It was black tie, so please, go home, and change into something long. They learned that this was an invitation to be avoided.

I quit City law but stayed in touch with friends who remained and heard their tales of partners trying it on with women employees and subjecting them to all manner of unwelcome approaches, on all manner of occasions: away days, dinners, lunches, taxis, meetings, working late at night or simply, in their offices during the day.

The City firms were terribly sexist places, and females were subjected to awful behaviour. If that is a blanket condemnation, that’s because it was – all the firms were the same. One, I recall, had an all-male interview panel that liked to make only the male applicants tell them a joke. The filthier, the better your chance of being hired.

Not just law firms, of course. Accountants, banks, trading floors, insurers – the City was a dreadful place for a woman. But let’s stick to the lawyers.

Ryan Beckwith, a partner at Freshfields Bruckhaus Deringer, one of the smartest houses, has just been fined £35,000 and ordered to pay £200,000 in costs for engaging in sexual activity with a junior female colleague. The solicitors disciplinary tribunal found that he failed to act with integrity and brought the profession into disrepute.

They agreed that Beckwith, 41, did not initiate sex with the complainant, referred to as “Person A”, who is in her twenties.

Nicola Lucking, the tribunal’s chairwoman, said the judges had not ruled on whether Person A had consented to sexual activity, but only that it was inappropriate for Beckwith to have engaged in sexual activity with a junior colleague who was intoxicated and therefore had impaired judgment.

Beckwith has resigned from Freshfields. He was not struck off, and is free to remain a solicitor. His barrister, though, said the verdict “renders all to dust for Mr Beckwith.”

Such a case would have been undreamt of in my day. We’ve clearly come a long way since then, and that is to be entirely welcomed.

But it’s not satisfactory. The tribunal had previously rejected an attempt by Beckwith’s lawyers to have the case thrown out, on the ground that the allegations should be heard by a criminal trial and not a disciplinary tribunal.

His is thought to be the first of this nature to be heard by the panel, and is being hailed as a turning point in how professional bodies tackle the blurring of professional and personal lives. Andrew Katzen, a regulatory law specialist at the law firm Hickman & Rose, said: “The allegations against Mr Beckwith were extremely serious. But they are allegations that, only a few years ago, would likely have been rejected by the Solicitors Regulation Authority [which forwarded the complaint to the tribunal] as being outside their remit.”

The Beckwith saga raises questions. Why has he been allowed to carry on being a solicitor? There’s no doubt the seriousness of the misconduct charge levelled against him, but apparently, it only warrants a fine.

While the tribunal did not focus on the issue of consent, the evidence concerning Person A’s intoxicated state and her mental impairment comes as close as possible to the definition of the offence of rape. Surely, this is a case that should be heard before a judge and jury, not a professional disciplinary panel?

Normally, in instances of serious misconduct where a crime may have been committed, the case is dealt with by the criminal process first, and then is considered by the relevant professional body. Beckwith may still be referred to the police for a criminal prosecution if Person A wishes. But isn’t this the wrong way round?

Certainly, as a warning to others, the Beckwith case serves that purpose. It shows, too, just how far the legal profession has travelled, and indicates a determination to reform. All that is hugely positive. But it does not feel satisfactory. By wishing to be seen to do the right thing, professional bodies may be entering difficult, murky waters. Far wiser, surely, to seek clarity via the police and criminal law.