I’ve seen barristers bullying and abusing their power – here’s how they get away with it

The legal profession needs a wake-up call. Barristers like me are continuing to face professional challenges because of inappropriate conduct from their colleagues – and even judges.

In the Bar Council’s most recent report, we now see stark evidence of what I’ve known for a very long time: that barristers suffer bullying, sexual harassment, racism, sexism and online abuse.

Some 44 per cent of barristers who took part in the survey said they have experienced or witnessed bullying, harassment and discrimination. As a barrister who has witnessed multiple flagrant abuses of power, I suspect this figure is just the tip of the iceberg.

Ask someone what comes to mind when they think of a barrister and they’ll probably conjure up images of mythical creatures in wigs and gowns, like something from an episode of Rumpole of the Bailey. They imagine people in ancient costumes, dedicating their lives to fighting for justice – both in and outside of the courtroom. But this fantasy is far from reality, believe me.

It is hard to explain to outsiders that those who are trusted to implement the law – and those who sit in judgement on other people’s lives – can also be guilty of the very same behaviours. But they can.

And even though many barristers work tirelessly to uphold the rule of law, and deeply believe in justice and fairness, there are far too many who exploit their positions of power to bully others. Most barristers have a war story: from punch-ups in the robing room to Nazi salutes in court.

As an advocate for women who speaks out about gender inequalities under the law, I have my own war stories: I’ve suffered abuse from other barristers on social media who have called me a c***, w*****, b****, vile, a narcissist – and have told me I should be sanctioned and disbarred.

Last month, a police inspector was banned from policing for his misogyny towards me and others. And when I attended a momentous awards ceremony recently, my name was read out as a shortlisted candidate for my cases championing the rights of women – and a solicitor and her colleagues booed me.

Yet the Bar Standards Board who regulates barristers said their behaviour towards me does not breach the code of conduct. In this case, instead of investigating abusive barristers, the BSB investigated me.

I feel unwelcome and at risk in the legal profession. And, when people see those in power (or their peers) behaving in reprehensible ways, it gives licence to other men to send horrendous messages, too.

Here’s one memorable example: a senior white male KC had bullied and harassed me for months on social media. After I called him out, I was accused of being “seriously offensive”. The irony is: bullying behaviour is normal, so he wouldn’t be held accountable – but a young female barrister challenging a powerful man is (apparently) a step too far. The subtext was clear: I should know my place and shut up and put up, or I will be punished.

If we are to change the culture, then we need to hold barristers accountable for that culture. If you were a victim of rape would you feel confident being represented by a barrister who called a female advocate a “c***” on social media? No wonder our justice system is broken and failing women when the actors within it behave like perpetrators.

Bullying at the bar is also particularly insidious because of the peculiarities of the profession. You are taught early on in your career that to move up the career ladder, you need to get the seal of approval from the legal establishment. Unlike other professions which are seen as meritocratic (“those who work hard shall succeed”), promotions and advancements for barristers and judges often depend on whether you are liked or whether your face fits.

For barristers to have those magical letters after their name, KC, they need more than 10 references from judges and colleagues. If barristers want to get star public ratings, they need to pass the anonymous feedback test – which means anyone in the legal profession can say anything about you, even if they have never met you. They can trash your reputation and end your career with just a few spiteful words – and there is no accountability because their identity is protected.

So, how do we transform the culture at the bar? To my mind, the Bar Council needs to first acknowledge the lack of diversity in the profession. Barristers remain largely white, male and privileged. Bullying thrives in environments where outsiders can be singled out with little repercussions.

A report published by the Bar Standards Board in 2022 showed that the gender balance of the most senior barristers (KCs) is 79.1 per cent male and just 18.8 per cent female – and only 35 per cent of all court judges are female. I know many women who have been pushed out of the profession because of a toxic work environment that would not be tolerated by any other profession.

Barristers from ethnic minority backgrounds are also more likely to experience discrimination. In fact, 39 per cent of barristers from ethnic minority backgrounds said in the report that they had experienced discrimination – compared with 14 per cent of white barristers. (Let’s not forget: there has never been a Supreme Court judge of colour, despite many qualified candidates.)

Two of our former Supreme Court judges are members of the Garrick Club, an elite male members’ club that explicitly discriminates against women by refusing them membership because of their gender. This, despite the fact that judges in their position would likely rule on gender-based discrimination cases.

Last week, district judge Kate Thomas brought legal action after her application for a promotion was rejected by the Judicial Appointments Commission. She said the decision reflected a “long-standing concern that it [the judiciary] is a club – an old boys’ club”.

She believed she had been blackballed from promotion after making a bullying complaint against a more senior male judge. She also said people had given negative comments about her during “secret soundings”.

While her allegations were denied – and her claim rejected by the court – she still shone a light on the secret appointment of judges which includes whispers behind closed doors, where anyone with an axe to grind can ruin your chances of career promotion.

As with any workplace, women and minorities who speak out about harassment and discrimination suffer significant professional and social penalties, which warns people to keep quiet. One of the central tenets of bullying in any workplace context is the silencing of dissenting voices.

Another peculiarity of the legal profession is the barristers’ code of conduct, which prevents a barrister from bringing the profession into disrepute. This creates a culture where criticising the legal system is met with fear and disdain.

If people do speak out, they should not fear complaints being weaponised against them. The complaints system needs to be open and even-handed and not used to silence those who dare to challenge injustice.

Dr Charlotte Proudman is a barrister specialising in violence against women and girls and a junior research fellow at Queens’ College, Cambridge