Abstract
Judges fulfil a fundamental constitutional role in democratic systems. Most research on judges, though, focuses on the public and constitutional significance of the judicial role, not the needs of individual judges. This article applies a labour law lens to help reconceive the judicial role in a way that balances the individual and collective needs of judges with the institutional and constitutional needs of the third arm of government, drawing on comparative analysis of Australia and the United Kingdom, and examples from common law countries. I argue that, while some progress has been made towards using labour law to structure and inform judicial roles, labour law offers new insights into how judges and judicial work might be supported. This may both assist judges in their individual capacity and support the judiciary as an institution. It therefore has significance for judges as individuals and the judiciary’s fundamental constitutional role.
Introduction
Judges fulfil a fundamental constitutional role in democratic systems, including in resolving disputes, 1 applying (and making) law, 2 acting as ‘a safeguard against arbitrary power’ 3 by scrutinising government acts and legislation, 4 upholding the rule of law and protecting individual rights. 5 In constitutional law scholarship, much focus has been paid to how judicial institutions can secure and balance judicial accountability with judicial independence, with the ultimate goal of maintaining public confidence in the judicial system to secure the courts’ constitutional role. 6 While some attention has been paid to how the terms and conditions of judicial office might impact upon constitutional principles, the fundamental concern remains with securing the constitutional role of judicial institutions, not the position of judges as individuals. Scant attention has been paid to judicial careers in the existing literature: 7 research on work, careers and the professions rarely includes or considers the judiciary. 8 Most research on judges, then, arguably tends to ignore that judges are human, instead focusing on the public and constitutional significance of the judicial role. 9
Increasingly, however, there is an acknowledgement that judges are not just ‘judicial officers’: they are also individuals, with particular needs and requirements. Further, there is growing recognition that if judges are not supported effectively, they will be unable to fulfil their constitutional role optimally. The contemporary judiciary faces fundamental institutional and personal challenges, including in relation to the pursuit of diversity; part-time work; managing mental health, stress and capacity issues; ensuring proper support for judges, including in relation to ethical concerns; and providing proper resourcing to the court. 10 These are challenges that go to the heart of the sustainability and efficacy of the judicial role. Thus, it is timely to reconsider how judges are supported and treated as they fulfil their constitutional function.
In a general employment setting, labour law provides a means of balancing the interests of workers with those of employers to reach outcomes that support both individual needs and organisational priorities. Kahn-Freund sees this as balancing the inequality of bargaining power inherent in the employment relationship. 11 Given the limited power that resides in individual workers, and the limited effectiveness of law in regulating the workplace, Kahn-Freund posits unions as having a fundamental role in balancing employer power: ‘On the labour side, power is collective power.’ 12 Labour law offers ‘reasonably predictable procedures’ by which the inevitable conflicts of interest between capital and labour might be adjusted and negotiated. 13
Similarly, Collins argues that employment law aims to ensure that the labour market functions effectively as a market, while also protecting workers against excesses of market logic. 14 Any balance between these competing interests will be ‘complex and contested’ and has no fixed solution: rather, it is continually adapting to new contexts and demands. 15 From an industrial pluralism perspective, collective bargaining could then be seen as a means of reducing social conflict and preventing industrial conflict from escalating into political revolution. 16 Organisations of workers are therefore granted rights to bargain collectively and engage in industrial action, but also accept limits being placed on their activities, such as through restrictions on allowable industrial action and political strikes. 17
In the judicial context, a labour law lens could provide a means of reconceiving the judicial role in a way that balances the individual and collective needs of judges with the institutional and constitutional needs of the third arm of government. A ‘labour law lens’ in this context means a view of judicial office that is informed by individual and collective labour rights and entitlements, which considers the applicability of labour law to the work of judging. Individual labour rights in Australia and the UK focus on a number of similar issues, such as protection from discrimination; minimum statutory terms and conditions of employment (including those relating to pay, working time, flexible work, pensions and leave entitlements); protection in the event of termination (including protection from unfair dismissal, notice requirements and redundancy provisions); and occupational health and safety. Collective labour rights in Australia and the UK focus on the right to organise collectively, collectively bargain over terms and conditions of work, and take industrial action.
Judges occupy a comparatively privileged position when compared with most employees in the labour market. As a result, many minimum standards will not apply, particularly those that relate to minimum rates of pay, pension entitlements and protection from termination. In these areas, judges have terms and conditions of work that well exceed the statutory minima. 18 In other areas, however, labour law offers comparative benefits to judges’ existing conditions of work, particularly in relation to collective labour rights, discrimination law and workplace flexibility. It is these areas of labour law that are the focus of this article.
Of course, ‘judges cannot be considered in the same light as employees of commercial organisations or public servants’: 19 the fundamental constitutional role of the judiciary and the need to secure judicial independence necessarily temper how a labour law lens might be applied to judicial work. In applying a labour law lens to judging, the ‘state’ 20 occupies a challenging position as both an ‘employer’ of judges and a different arm of government from which judges need separation and independence. 21 This stands in marked contrast to the level of power and control traditionally exercised by employers over employees, including in how work is performed. 22 Navigating this tension and acknowledging this difference is one of the key challenges of applying a labour law lens to the judicial context.
While acknowledging these challenges, a labour law perspective still offers an established and well-considered lens for informing and illuminating court practices 23 and may assist courts to better balance individual, institutional and constitutional needs. A labour law lens draws attention to organisational processes in courts, with a focus on what judges need to function, and other processes that may support a judge in fulfilling their role. 24 It therefore adds the human dimension to discussion of the judicial role. 25
More particularly, a labour law lens offers four potential advantages if applied in the judicial context, which are increasingly pertinent given the individual and institutional challenges facing the judiciary. First, by helping to balance the needs of individuals and institutions, a labour law lens could enhance individual performance and strengthen the organisation as a whole. 26 Thus, it may help to improve the performance and capability of the judiciary, assisting courts in fulfilling their constitutional function and optimising the supply of judicial labour. 27
Second, a labour law lens (particularly one that includes discrimination law) may assist with promoting judicial diversity. While a more diverse judiciary may not lead to different decision-making, 28 judicial diversity is important for securing judicial legitimacy and ‘helps ensure public confidence in the [judicial branch], and therefore in the rule of law’. 29 For Malleson, then, judicial diversity and equal participation is ‘an inherent and essential feature of a democracy without which the judiciary will lose public confidence’. 30 With a holistic understanding of judicial diversity — acknowledging the interrelationship between judicial appointments, working conditions, appraisals, training, career development, travel and deployment in promoting (or hindering) diversity 31 — it becomes increasingly evident that promoting diversity requires a reconsideration of the judicial role and terms and conditions of work. It is in this area that a labour law lens might offer significant assistance. This is particularly important given that Australia and the UK have not generally been successful at achieving judicial diversity using established methods and programs, especially at the higher levels of the judiciary. 32 This flags the importance of considering alternative options and strategies.
Third, by promoting the interests of individual judges, a labour law lens may increase judicial satisfaction and retention. In the 2016 UK Judicial Attitude Survey, the results for England and Wales courts and UK tribunals found that 83 per cent of respondents were most concerned by changes to judicial morale since 2014. 33 In the 2014 survey, 86 per cent of respondents in England and Wales courts and UK tribunals saw judicial morale as a key future challenge for the judiciary, and 56 per cent identified the loss of experienced judges as a future challenge. 34 Thus, judicial retention and satisfaction are major institutional challenges, at least for the judiciary in England and Wales. In Australia, Opeskin has also identified judicial retention as a major challenge in seeking to optimise the supply of judicial labour, and flags the need for better working conditions to reduce judicial attrition. 35 A labour law lens offers one means of identifying reforms that might promote judicial retention and address barriers to judicial satisfaction.
Fourth, labour law offers a means of channelling and managing collective action. This both offers the potential for judges to work collectively to improve their working situation and provides a degree of structure or predictability to the collective negotiation process. As Collins notes, employers need industrial relations mechanisms to secure ‘collective cooperation’ from the workforce; negotiation and cooperation between employers and workers can promote trust and confidence in the workplace. 36 Thus, labour law offers a working model for how governmental power might be collectively balanced to promote the interests of judges, again increasing judicial satisfaction.
A labour law lens is not without its detractors. The growing emphasis on individual employment rights, and the weakening of collective structures, has been criticised for facilitating a neoliberal individualising of the labour market and undermining employment terms and conditions in practice. 37 Labour law is also limited in scope — relying on the traditional distinction between employees and independent contractors — and is therefore under-inclusive and insufficiently responsive to changing corporate structures to protect vulnerable workers in the modern labour market. 38 Further, there are concerns that the enforcement of labour law is fundamentally flawed, at least to the extent it relies on individuals (and unions) in a weakened position to challenge established corporate power, or regulatory agencies with limited resources to scrutinise many thousands of firms. 39 These are all valid criticisms of labour law and its enforcement. However, even recognising these limitations, a labour law lens still offers new insights into how workers might be protected and supported in the labour market, and how we might balance individual and institutional needs more effectively.
This article therefore considers how applying a labour law lens to the judiciary might inform judicial employment, drawing on examples from common law countries such as Australia, the UK, Ireland and the USA and focusing particularly on emerging case law in the UK on judges as ‘workers’. These international examples provide a striking counterpoint to the general resistance in Australia to viewing judges as ‘workers’ or ‘employees’. 40 The developing case law in the UK is particularly noteworthy, given that Australia and the UK share common legal foundations, similar judicial models and similar labour laws, making the UK and Australia highly appropriate comparator countries. 41 Further, governments in the UK and Australia are both putting pressure on judicial terms and conditions of work in the name of ‘austerity’ and ‘financial restraint’, potentially causing tension between the government and judiciary. Even with these broad similarities, the UK has made substantially more progress towards viewing judges as workers. 42 This may reflect the institutional and constitutional differences between Australia and the UK, such as the extensive reliance on recorders in the UK (which may make part-time working more accepted), and the UK’s unwritten constitutional framework for the separation of powers, which may mean that a labour law lens offers more potential to reform UK judicial structures than in Australia. Regardless, the UK remains an illuminating and revealing comparator for the Australian context, and a labour law lens still offers new insights for both jurisdictions.
This article commences by evaluating trends towards applying labour law to the judiciary, with a particular focus on case law relating to judicial terms and conditions in Australia and the UK. It then considers how the use of a labour law lens to view the judiciary might change courts’ operations, focusing on collective labour rights, discrimination law and workplace flexibility. I argue that while some progress has been made towards using labour law to structure and inform judicial roles, there is still significant scope for this to be extended. This may both assist judges in their individual capacity and support the judiciary as an institution. It therefore has significance for judges as individuals and the judiciary’s fundamental constitutional role.
Viewing the Judiciary Through a Labour Law Lens
Reluctance in Applying a Labour Law Lens
Judges — and the work of judging — are not typically seen through a labour law lens. This may be attributable to three key factors. First, the fundamental importance of judicial independence and impartiality
43
has led to a reluctance to interfere in the work of judging. There is a fear that labour law will interfere with and affect judicial decision-making and potentially allow for executive interference in the judicial process.
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As argued by Justice Margaret McMurdo, former president of the Queensland Court of Appeal: we must remain vigilant to ensure that the concepts of separation of powers and judicial independence are not undermined, however subtly, including by the notion of judges as employees.…judges, like cabinet ministers and members of parliament, collectively govern, not as employees of the executive, but as public officers of their distinct branches of government.
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Second, and relatedly, the importance of independence and impartiality to the legitimacy of courts and judges may have operated to obscure and deflect attention from the position of judges as individuals. Judges tend to be seen as representatives and servants of the state, exerting authority and aspiring to an ideal of objectivity. 49 This has a physical manifestation in court dress and attire, with judges ‘covering their individuality with a black robe’. 50 Judges are transformed into public existence through the use of symbols and court traditions: 51 in this process, judges are dehumanised and come to symbolise their role rather than their own identity. Thus, ideals of independence and impartiality and court traditions may create an illusion of sameness amongst judges, which prevents recognition that judges are a group of individuals who work and think differently. 52
That said, the presence of a more diverse judiciary increasingly challenges the depersonalisation of judges: as Rackley has argued, The woman judge continues to be seen as a threat to the aesthetic norm; her presence on the bench is an inescapable irritant, simultaneously confirming and disrupting its established masculinity.…Her perceived difference challenges traditional understandings of the judge and judging, disrupting the previous uniformity of the bench and revealing an unavoidable gender dimension to previous understandings of adjudication.
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Third, differences between judging and other forms of employment may be seen as undermining the use of a labour law lens in this context. In addition to the importance of impartiality and independence, and consequent limitations on the state’s power to direct judicial work, it is arguable that judges (unlike other workers) are not in a position of inequality or inferior bargaining power, 58 making a labour law lens inappropriate. As the third arm of government, 59 judges are arguably as powerful as the executive or parliament and have significant resources with which to protect their own interests. However, this confuses constitutional power with individual power: while judges may be able to hold the government to account in fulfilling their constitutional role, they are unlikely to have equal bargaining power in relation to their own terms and conditions of appointment and work. This is particularly the case for members of the lower judiciary, who may not wield substantial personal power. Thus, power disparities are relevant when considering the position of judges.
Of course, as noted above, judges cannot be unreflexively equated with employees of commercial organisations or public servants.
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Courts operate differently to business: as Marilyn Warren, former Chief Justice of the Victorian Supreme Court, has noted, [A]s a fundamental democratic institution, the Judiciary has different objectives and processes to commercial enterprises, which are focused on increasing productivity and reducing the bottom line…The link between the inherently inefficient processes of open justice and the institutional legitimacy of the Judiciary means that notions of efficiency relevant to market activities are inappropriate when applied to judicial administration[.]
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It is important, then, to recognise the potential institutional or structural constraints that may limit how far a labour law lens can be applied to the judiciary. Simultaneously, it is also important to recognise an emerging shift in how judges and the work of judging are viewed. Gee and others map a shift (which is reflected in the Constitutional Reform Act 2005 (UK) (‘CRA’) 65 ) in UK courts from a culture of individualism — with resistance to performance management amongst judges, and solitary working lives, 66 largely justified on the basis of judicial independence 67 — towards a culture of corporatism, with a focus on minimum standards of legal knowledge, courtesy and the skills of judge-craft. 68 This has also prompted the centralisation of power in senior judges to manage and enable this culture of corporatism. 69 This cultural change has been driven by a range of factors, including the growth of the judiciary, the decline in judicial homogeneity with growing diversity and the development of judicial career paths, which put more emphasis on training and development. 70 Equally, some courts have experienced a shift towards managerialism, with judges no longer being viewed just as independent decision-makers but also actors in a public organisation delivering services. 71 This may then justify a focus on court accountability for the use of resources 72 and the recasting of the judicial role to focus on the delivery of ‘services’. 73 For Hunter, the ‘neo-liberal judge’ is one who works within a bureaucratic ‘KPI-driven regime’ with a focus on settlement. 74 A labour law lens therefore both reflects emerging trends in court management and offers a means of critiquing such trends from individual and collective perspectives.
A Labour Law Lens in Australia
While a labour law lens may significantly enhance our understanding of the judicial role, there has been limited take-up of this approach in existing case law. In Australia, at the federal level, the Australian Constitution provides limited consideration of the position of judges as individual workers or employees. Provision for judges’ appointment, tenure and remuneration is made in s 72 of the Constitution, which provides for appointment by the Governor-General in Council; removal by the Governor-General in Council, on an address from both Houses of Parliament in the same session, on the ground of proved misbehaviour or incapacity; remuneration as fixed by Parliament, which cannot be diminished during a judge’s continuance in office; and judicial retirement ages (age 70 for members of the High Court; age 70 or less for other judges).
There has been limited consideration in the Australian case law of judges’ terms and conditions: 75 where these issues have been considered in the courts, the cases have largely focused on judicial tenure and whether s 72 applies to State or Territory courts. 76 Other cases have focused on the nature of judicial power. 77 Thus, most disputes in Australia have arisen in the context of the judiciary as an institution; there has been minimal consideration of judges and judging using a labour law lens in the Australian case law.
A potential exception to this arose in the context of judicial pensions. In Austin v Commonwealth, 78 the High Court was asked to consider the constitutional validity of a federal tax on state judges’ pensions. The tax would have exposed the judges in question to significant liability via a ‘superannuation surcharge debt’: the first plaintiff, a judge of the Supreme Court of New South Wales, would have been liable to a debt of AU$550,780 if he worked until the mandatory retirement age of 72.
For the High Court, it was irrelevant whether the tax operated in a ‘harsh and unreasonable manner’ on individual judges: ‘Unreasonableness is not a ground of invalidity of a tax.’ 79 Instead, the tax was invalid as it treated State judges differently (and disadvantageously) to other high-income earners and federal judges. 80 This constituted an interference with State arrangements for judicial remuneration, which could have affected the States’ ability to recruit and retain judges to ‘perform an essential constitutional function of the State’. 81 The provisions denied ‘the interest of the State in providing an adequate level of remuneration’ for judges, 82 which impaired State ‘liberty of action’ in relation to ‘the working of its governmental structure’ 83 and interfered with the States’ relationships with their judges. 84 The tax, then, was constitutionally impermissible.
Austin was clearly not a case about the status of judges, except as it related to the integrity of the Australian federal structure. As noted by Gleeson CJ, ‘[t]he issue is one of interference; of impairment of the constitutional integrity of a State government’. 85 Thus, judges are notable for their constitutional function, not for their individual rights. Further, for Kirby J (in dissent), judicial remuneration is not relevant ‘because it is important to the comfort and lifestyle of the judge’; rather, its ‘governmental importance’ lies in attracting and retaining ‘worthy’ office holders to the bench. 86
Similarly, in Baker v Commonwealth, 87 federal magistrates argued that their exclusion from the non-contributory defined benefit pension scheme afforded to federal judges was invalid, as it undermined the appearance of judicial independence. The Federal Court held that it had not been shown that a reasonable, well-informed lay observer would apprehend that magistrates’ independence and impartiality would be jeopardised by the lack of a judicial pension, having regard to other safeguards of judicial independence and their judicial salary. 88 However, the majority of the Court did recognise that it was possible that judicial remuneration could be reduced so low that courts ‘would not be recognisable as Ch III courts’, 89 if they became ‘the exclusive preserve of the idle rich or the corruptible poor’. 90
These cases reveal that a labour law lens has rarely — if ever — been applied to the position of judges in Australia. Indeed, the High Court of Australia has explicitly denied judges’ status as employees: in Re Australian Education Union, 91 it was held by the majority that ‘Ministers and judges are not employees of a State’. 92 However, the Court did not explain what, indeed, judges were, if not employees.
Judges as Workers: The UK Context
The Australian context may be compared with the situation in the UK, where there is a much clearer move towards regarding judges as ‘workers’. 93 This goes beyond the idea that judges are ‘judicial officers’ with an overriding constitutional function and acknowledges that judges are individual workers with their own needs, careers and aspirations, who may be aided by labour law and individual and collective labour rights. 94
These developments have been particularly prominent in the context of discrimination law, where judges have repeatedly been held to be ‘workers’ for the purposes of EU and UK equality legislation, despite occupying judicial office. In O’Brien v Ministry of Justice, 95 the Court of Justice of the European Union (‘ECJ’) held that ‘the sole fact that judges are treated as judicial office holders is insufficient in itself to exclude the latter from enjoying the rights provided for by that framework agreement [on part-time work]’. 96 Judges could only be excluded from the Framework Agreement if their relationship was held to be substantially different from the relationship between employers and those who fall within the category of ‘workers’ under national law. 97 While it was for the national court to determine whether this was the case, the ECJ noted that the national court’s decision should be made having regard to the spirit and purpose of the Framework Agreement on part-time work, and in light of the distinction between workers and the self-employed; 98 and having reference to how judges are appointed and removed, the way their work is organised and the rights attached to their position (such as sick pay, maternity or paternity pay and other benefits). 99 Finding judges to be ‘workers’ would not undermine their independence: 100 indeed, according to the Advocate General, employment rights would strengthen the economic and practical independence of the judiciary. 101
The UK Supreme Court, applying the ECJ’s test, held that judges were ‘workers’ for the purposes of the Framework Agreement, on the basis that ‘they are not free agents to work as and when they choose. They are not self-employed persons when working in that capacity [as judges]’. 102 The Court considered that (i) the character of judicial work differed from that of a self-employed person; (ii) the rules for judicial appointment and removal were such that ‘no self-employed person would subject himself’ to them; (iii) the way judicial work was organised for them, and that recorders and other part-time judges were expected to work during defined times and periods, meant judges had less discretion over when they worked; and (iv) part-time judges were generally entitled to the same employment-related benefits as full-time judges. 103
The decision in O’Brien echoes the similar result in Perceval-Price v Department of Economic Development,
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where the Court of Appeal in Northern Ireland held that tribunal members were entitled to rely on equal pay legislation as ‘workers’. The Court said: All judges, at whatever level, share certain common characteristics. They all must enjoy independence of decision without direction from any source, which the respondents quite rightly defended as an essential part of their work. They all need some organisation of their sittings, whether it be prescribed by the President of the industrial tribunals or the Court Service, or more loosely arranged in collegiate fashion between the judges of a particular court. They are all expected to work during defined times and periods, whether they be rigidly laid down or managed by the judges themselves with a greater degree of flexibility. They are not free agents to work as and when they choose, as are self-employed persons. Their office accordingly partakes of some of the characteristics of employment, as servants of the State, even though as office holders they do not come within the definition of employment in domestic law.
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However, this does not mean that judges are ‘workers’ for all purposes or engaged under an employment contract. In Gilham v Ministry of Justice, 107 it was held that District Court judges were office holders and not employed under a contract of employment or contract for services. The judges therefore did not meet the definition of ‘worker’ in s 230(3) of the Employment Rights Act 1996 (UK), which depended on the existence of a contract, and were not entitled to whistleblowing protection.
In the Employment Appeal Tribunal’s decision in Gilham, judges were categorised as ‘statutory office-holders’, who held an ‘office with duties defined by statute’. 108 Mrs Justice Simler endorsed the definition of ‘office’ adopted by Lord Sumption in The President of the Methodist Conference v Preston 109 as ‘a position of a public nature, filled by successive incumbents, whose duties were defined not by agreement but by law or by the rules of the institution’. 110 Thus, as office holders, judicial posts are defined by their public nature and the source of their duties (here, statute and rules made under statutory authority 111 ). In this context, judicial office could be distinguished from an employment or contract arrangement, as there was no negotiation of the judges’ terms of appointment and remuneration. Moreover, the relationship was not at the will of the parties, as it could only be terminated in specific and limited circumstances such as incapacity or misconduct. 112
The Employment Appeal Tribunal in Gilham explicitly distinguished O’Brien on the basis that the earlier case concerned rights under EU law, rather than domestic employment law. 113 While judges are in an ‘employment relationship’ for the purposes of EU derived rights, 114 this does not extend to non-EU derived domestic law.
The Court of Appeal approved the substance of the Employment Appeal Tribunal’s decision.
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A judge’s obligations are derived from judicial office itself, not from an employment contract, and judicial functions are derived from statute.
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The absence of a contractual relationship was also important for perceptions of judicial independence: it is in principle desirable to have as much visible distance between the judiciary and the executive, and a status that depends purely on the holding of an office is better from that point of view than a contractual relationship of worker and employer, with its inevitable connotations of the former being subordinate to the latter.
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We are very aware that our decision that…[a judge] is not a worker…creates a distinction between those employment rights accorded to workers which derive purely from domestic law and those which derive from EU law…and that may not appear to be a coherent or particularly satisfactory state of affairs. But the only way of avoiding the problem is to find that judges work under a contract with the Lord Chancellor, and such a finding is not open to us on the conscientious application of [common law] principles…If that is an anomaly it can only be remedied by Parliament.
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Reconceiving Judicial Roles Through a Labour Law Lens
A labour law lens refocuses attention on individual and collective rights for judges, across the whole life cycle of their role. 119 As discussed above, judges will derive limited benefit from many labour law rights, at least to the extent they represent statutory minima for terms and conditions of work. However, labour law offers potential advantages for judges in relation to collective labour rights, discrimination law and workplace flexibility. These areas will be considered in turn.
Collective Labour Rights
Collective labour law offers a means of structuring and channelling collective action on the part of workers. Workers are granted rights to collectively organise, bargain and undertake industrial action to support their demands. For example, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights 120 protects freedom of association in art 22, which states: ‘Everyone shall have the right to freedom of association with others, including the right to form and join trade unions for the protection of his interests.’ This is also protected by International Labour Organization conventions, including the Right to Organise and Collective Bargaining Convention, 1949 (No 98) 121 and the Freedom of Association and Protection of the Right to Organise Convention, 1948 (No 87), 122 both of which have been ratified by Australia and the UK.
Pay, pensions and working conditions are areas that, for employees, might be the subject of collective action and negotiation. While judges’ terms and conditions of employment likely exceed statutory minima, this does not mean they are subjectively or objectively adequate. While terms and conditions of work are a major factor in judicial retention, and may also affect judicial recruitment, 123 it appears that many judges in England and Wales are discontented with their conditions of work. In the 2014 UK Judicial Attitude Survey results for England and Wales, 86 per cent of respondents who had been in the post for at least five years felt that working conditions were worse than they were five years ago, and 48 per cent said they were significantly worse. 124 Only 2 per cent said conditions were better; and none said conditions were significantly better. 125 In relation to pay, 78 per cent of respondents felt that pay and pension entitlements did not adequately reflect the work they did; and 63 per cent did not feel their salary was reasonable. 126
These findings were even more marked in the results of the 2016 survey for England and Wales: 78 per cent of salaried judges said they had experienced a loss of net earnings in the last two years, 127 and 74 per cent felt that their pay and pension entitlements did not adequately reflect they work they did. 128 This was having a significant and deleterious effect on judicial morale: 63 per cent of respondents said judicial salaries were affecting their morale, and 82 per cent said it was affecting morale of judges they worked with. 129 Similar results were found for salaried judges in Scotland and Northern Ireland in 2016. 130 In relation to working conditions, the 2016 survey found that a substantial majority (76 per cent) of judges in England and Wales and UK tribunal members felt they had experienced a deterioration in their working conditions since 2014, and 33 per cent felt conditions were significantly worse. 131 Many judges were also concerned for their physical safety in court (51 per cent) or outside of court (37 per cent). 132
By contrast, Australian judges appear more satisfied with their terms and conditions of work. In the 2007 National Survey of Australian Judges, 76.3 per cent of judges were satisfied with their benefits, and 69.4 per cent were satisfied with their salary. 133 However, this level of satisfaction was much lower than that for overall work (at 92 per cent). 134 It is also debatable whether these results would still hold more than a decade later. In Appleby and others’ 2016 survey of Australian judges, 49 per cent agreed or strongly agreed that judicial pensions and remuneration were a challenge for their jurisdiction. 135
In Australia, remuneration for federal judges (and other public officers) is set by the Remuneration Tribunal. The Tribunal ‘takes a conservative approach to annual adjustments to remuneration’ 136 and provided only one pay increase — of 2 per cent from 1 January 2016 — for judges from July 2013 to October 2016. 137 In effect, this meant that judicial remuneration, on average, was falling behind other sectors and professions: over that same period, the Wage Price Index increased by over 7 per cent, public sector wages by over 8 per cent and wage increases for public sector bodies covered by federal agreements (on average) by over 10 per cent. 138 A further increase to remuneration for federal judges — of 4.8 per cent from 1 January 2017 — was awarded in November 2016, recognising the ‘increased complexities faced by judges’ and aimed at ‘restoring relativities [with state and territory pay], in an environment of continued economic and wages restraint’. 139 This ‘conservative’ approach to remuneration ignores judges’ financial needs as individuals and expressly acknowledges that judicial income is falling behind inflation and other sectors. Thus, in Appleby and others’ survey, respondents expressed concern with the process of setting judicial remuneration (whether by government or tribunal), that remuneration is not linked to the consumer price index and that entitlements are rarely reviewed. 140
Reforms have also been introduced to make judicial pensions more ‘[s]ustainable and affordable’, 141 and therefore less generous for individual judges. In the UK, for example, the Judicial Pension Scheme 1993 (‘JUPRA’) has been replaced with the New Judicial Pension Scheme 2015. This imposes higher individual contributions on judges and reverts to a career-average defined benefit pension, rather than a final salary pension under JUPRA. 142 The transitional provisions in the pension changes were successfully challenged in the Employment Tribunal and, on appeal, in the Employment Appeal Tribunal and Court of Appeal, as a form of age discrimination which was not justified as a proportionate means of achieving a legitimate aim. 143 This challenge related to the transitional provisions only; it did not consider the broader constitutional validity of the pension changes in reducing judges’ pay and conditions. 144
In the face of ongoing restrictions to judges’ pay and pensions, and deteriorating working conditions, collective action by judges might be particularly beneficial in securing better terms and conditions of work. It is not contentious that judges may be represented by some sort of professional association. Art 12 of the Universal Charter of the Judge, which represents minimum norms for judges and was unanimously approved by delegates at the meeting of the Central Council of the International Association of Judges in Taipei in 1999, says: The right of a judge to belong to a professional association must be recognized in order to permit the judges to be consulted, especially concerning the application of their statutes, ethical and otherwise, and the means of justice, and in order to permit them to defend their legitimate interests.
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A judge, like any other citizen, is entitled to freedom of expression, belief, association and assembly, but in exercising such rights, a judge shall always conduct himself or herself in such a manner as to preserve the dignity of the judicial office and the impartiality and independence of the judiciary.
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A judge may form or join associations of judges or participate in other organisations representing the interests of judges.
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Collective action on the part of judges may be particularly concerning given the need to ensure internal and individual independence from judicial colleagues. 148 However, it is certainly arguable that collective action to secure terms and conditions of work is unrelated to judicial decision-making: judicial independence can be maintained — and, indeed, enhanced — by improved conditions of work, which are better secured through collective negotiation. Thus, collective action does not innately jeopardise judicial independence and integrity, so long as it is limited to terms and conditions of work.
More challenging, though, is the potential for collective action on the part of judges to lead to judicial proceedings: either to adjudicate on the legality of collective action or to rule on the application or interpretation of a collective agreement. Judges being asked to rule on the legality of their own actions and terms and conditions of work puts obvious pressure on the independence and impartiality of the judiciary. However, it is not unknown for judges to be asked to rule in this way: indeed, the UK cases on the status of judges and Australian cases on judicial pensions raise similar issues. In these cases, though, the issue in question generally related to a different jurisdiction or court, or did not directly affect the judges making the ruling. Thus, challenges to the independence and impartiality of the judiciary are put at arm’s length. It is possible that similar separation could be achieved in relation to collective action; and, if judges were involved in negotiations that were under challenge, there is always the option of recusal. 149
Reflecting the importance of freedom of association to the judiciary, judges are already represented by a range of bodies. In the UK, for example, the UK Association of Fee Paid Judges was established in 2014 to represent the interests of part-time UK judges. Its aims include to promote greater understanding and better resolution of issues facing fee paid judges, and in particular:…[c]ontribute to the understanding and resolution of legal issues and working practices facing fee paid judges; [and] promote and protect the rights of fee paid judges.
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In Australia, the Judicial Conference of Australia (‘JCA’) is an incorporated association which includes judges and magistrates from all jurisdictions in Australia. It has over 700 members, representing over half the judicial officers in Australia. 151 The JCA provides a collective and representative voice for the judiciary, and has issued position papers on issues such as judicial pensions 152 and submissions to Senate Standing Committee inquiries on topics like complaints regarding judicial behaviour. 153
Associations have a number of similarities to trade unions: they are groups of individuals with a common interest or purpose and may consist of a group of individuals working in particular area (such as judges). However, associations lack the workplace rights of trade unions; they have no right to engage in collective bargaining or industrial action, and employers are not legally bound to negotiate with them.
That said, it is not unheard of for judges to act collectively, including through associations. The Association of Judges of Ireland (‘AJI’), for example, was established in 2011 as a ‘representative body’ for the interests of its members, which include the ‘vast majority’ of judges in Ireland. 154 While it ‘does not represent the judiciary as such’, and is not a trade union, the breadth and coverage of the AJI’s membership (with coverage of over 90 per cent of serving judges) 155 means it can play a significant role in advancing the judiciary’s collective interests and has higher coverage than unions in most other industries. The Constitution of the AJI includes amongst its aims ‘[t]o promote the interests of its members in their professional capacity’ and ‘[t]o promote the general interests of its members, including those interests arising upon retirement from the Bench’. 156 The AJI has advocated for judicial interests in relation to pay 157 and pensions, 158 though this has taken the form of letters and meetings with members of the executive, rather than industrial action. Thus, it is a more ad hoc form of collective action than would typically be undertaken by trade unions.
In other common law jurisdictions, judges are represented by formalised unions. In the USA, the Association of Administrative Law Judges (‘AALJ’) is a federal employees’ union, which represents the interests of federal administrative law judges and collectively bargains with the Social Security Administration. It has lobbied in Congress for increases to judicial wages, improvements to pensions and increases to annual leave, and has undertaken collective bargaining in relation to workplace safety and working conditions.
159
Collective bargaining is now undertaken when any change is made to the security or safety conditions that affect federal administrative law judges.
160
Like representative bodies in other jurisdictions, the AALJ was originally established as a professional association: however, increasing incursions on judicial independence in the 1990s, and a move to a corporatist management structure, meant The AALJ leadership realized the judges needed the legal protection which could only be achieved by forming a collective bargaining unit, a union. There was of course a good deal of resistance to the notion of judges, skilled professionals, forming a union. There was much debate, an election was held and the majority of judges voted for the protection of a union.
161
Even industrial action by judges is not unheard of — though not in the UK or Australia, and it is generally in response to sustained or calamitous attacks on the rule of law. Judicial strikes have occurred in countries such as Egypt, Spain, Italy, Greece, Tunisia and Uganda. 165
Thus, there are examples of collective action and trade union representation for the judiciary in other countries. Applying this to Australia, formalised collective structures would give judges a voice and opportunity to negotiate with the executive on issues such as pay, pensions, safety and working conditions. It is questionable, though, whether this would be any more effective in practice than existing collective structures, such as the ‘associations’ currently in place in the UK and Australia. A labour law lens does, however, draw attention to the need for formalised and clear processes for consultation and negotiation with judges, which are currently lacking in both jurisdictions. Ad hoc processes for expressing concern to the executive lack the predictability and certainty of labour law mechanisms.
Discrimination Law
As discussed above, judges in the UK are increasingly using discrimination law to advance their individual and collective interests. However, discrimination law is not often thought of in relation to the judiciary. While The Bangalore Principles of Judicial Conduct 2002 include a section on ‘Equality’, this is confined to the treatment of parties before the court, not judges themselves. 166
For the general workforce, however, there is a growing body of individual anti-discrimination rights, which cover areas such as direct and indirect discrimination, harassment and victimisation. While the specific provisions of these laws vary from jurisdiction to jurisdiction, there is a clear prohibition of discrimination in employment on the basis of protected grounds, such as gender, race and ethnicity, caring responsibilities, sexuality, age and disability.
Discrimination law has a growing relevance for the judiciary. First, as demonstrated by the emerging UK case law, discrimination law may assist in ensuring equality of judicial terms and conditions of work, including in areas like pensions 167 and pay. 168 This is particularly relevant for those who work part-time in the judiciary 169 and who are ‘non-traditional’ judges. 170
The consequences of applying discrimination law to the judiciary could be wide-ranging. For example, Hunter has mapped the ongoing exclusion of women from senior judicial positions in the UK, perhaps due to greater emphasis being placed on ‘old’ (masculine) judicial qualities in promotion processes, a narrowing eligibility pool and the process of statutory consultation for senior appointments. 171 Similar trends are evident in Australia. 172 As illustrated by the UK Supreme Court case of Essop v Home Office (UK Border Agency), 173 promotion processes can be indirectly discriminatory, even if it is unclear how or why they disadvantage certain applicants. The ongoing exclusion of women and non-white judges from senior judicial positions is an area that would benefit from scrutiny through a discrimination law lens. Further, the exclusion of less senior judges from certain employment benefits, as was explored in Baker v Commonwealth, 174 would also benefit from review, particularly if women and non-white judges are largely confined to these positions.
Thus, discrimination law may be one tool for supporting female and non-white judges. This is particularly important given the challenge of retaining non-traditional judicial officers: in the 2016 UK Judicial Attitude Survey, the results for England and Wales and UK tribunals indicated that 144 of 472 female judicial respondents (31 per cent) were currently considering leaving the judiciary early (ie, in the next five years, when they were not scheduled to retire). 175 Similarly, 30 of the 77 Black and Minority Ethnic (‘BAME’) judicial respondents (39 per cent) were considering leaving in the next five years. 176 This runs directly counter to efforts to increase female and BAME participation in judicial institutions. While discrimination law is not the only tool that might assist judicial retention, it has particular importance for non-majoritarian groups.
Second, for judges generally, discrimination law may offer a new lens to review existing terms of judicial appointment. This is particularly pertinent in relation to judicial retirement ages: unlike other workers, all Australian judges and magistrates are subject to mandatory retirement ages, ranging from ages 65 to 72, 177 and judges in the UK are subject to a mandatory retirement age of 70. 178 In my previous work, I have criticised Australian judicial retirement ages on two grounds: first, that they no longer reflect contemporary conditions; and, second, that they are unnecessary in practice. 179 A discrimination law lens further bolsters these criticisms of judicial retirement ages. 180 Fixed retirement ages are not generally acceptable in the modern Australian or UK employment context: for other occupations, the legislature has decided that mandatory retirement is no longer suitable, 181 and compulsory retirement is now generally prohibited. 182 Judges are one of the few groups that may still be subjected to compulsory retirement. 183 Judicial retirement ages, then, are better seen as ‘a prime example of arbitrary age discrimination’. 184 A labour law lens would likely support calls for the abolition of judicial retirement ages.
That said, judicial retirement ages may fulfil a specific constitutional role, over and above their usefulness in relation to the general workforce, limiting the applicability of a labour law lens to the judicial context. Judges themselves support the retention of mandatory retirement: in Appleby and others’ 2016 survey of Australian judges, only 9 per cent of respondents thought that there should not be a mandatory retirement age for judicial officers. 185 Judicial retirement ages arguably help to contemporise the courts and open up opportunities for younger appointees by increasing judicial turnover, and prevent capacity issues from impeding the judicial function. 186 Instead of removing retirement ages, Opeskin therefore argues for a hybrid model of judicial tenure, that adopts both age limits and term limits, to both ‘[control] for the risk of decrepitude among elderly judges’ and ‘[ensure] there are “regular and seemly exits” that generate change and renewal on the court’. 187 For Opeskin, this is the most reliable means of securing judicial independence and the integrity of the court. However, Opeskin also advocates for increasing judicial retirement ages to address the cost of judicial pensions and judicial attrition, 188 revealing some of the practical challenges occasioned by retirement ages.
I have previously criticised these arguments in favour of judicial retirement ages for embodying and perpetuating age stereotypes and ignoring the need for some process of capability assessment for all judges. 189 Instead, ‘[r]ather than relying on mandatory retirement to address capacity issues, these concerns should prompt deeper consideration of how we respond to judicial incapacity, and how we support chief justices in fulfilling their internal management role’. 190 This is also consistent with the findings from Appleby and others’ survey, where 77 per cent of respondents agreed that ‘it would be appropriate for judicial officers to be asked to undergo capacity checks at the request of a Head of Jurisdiction or a relevant body constituted by judges’, and only 12 per cent expressed any disagreement. 191 Capacity issues are a problem for the judiciary, even with retirement ages in place. While effectively addressing these issues raises complex tensions between judicial independence and accountability, 192 relying on judicial retirement ages to address the problem is not a workable solution. While a labour and discrimination law lens may not resolve these tensions and issues, it offers a new way of describing and conceiving of judicial retirement ages, which may challenge the prevailing orthodoxy and acceptance of mandatory retirement.
Of course, as for the general workforce, there are fundamental limitations in using discrimination law as a tool for protecting individual rights. 193 Even where judges are entitled to protection under discrimination law, they may struggle to prove their claim. In McGrath v Ministry of Justice, 194 for example, the Employment Appeal Tribunal upheld the Employment Tribunal’s rejection of a comparator for an Employment Tribunal lay member of a full-time salaried Employment Judge. This meant the claim was doomed to fail. Despite these practical limitations, a discrimination law lens still offers new perspectives and insights that might assist non-traditional judges in particular.
Workplace Flexibility and Working Time
Workplace flexibility is important for recruiting and retaining a diverse pool of candidates for judicial office, and can help judges to manage health issues 195 and caring responsibilities, 196 particularly into older age. 197 In the 2014 UK Judicial Attitude Survey, results from England and Wales and UK tribunals found the inability to work flexible hours was a factor that would prompt early retirement for 17 per cent of respondents; 198 conversely, the opportunity to work part-time would make 34 per cent of respondents more likely to remain in the judiciary until the retirement age, 199 and increased flexibility in working hours would influence 25 per cent to remain. 200
In the 2016 survey, respondents were asked how important opportunities for flexible working were to them: in the results for England and Wales judges and UK tribunals, 44 per cent of respondents thought flexible work was important. 201 Despite this, only 13 per cent rated opportunities for flexible working as good or excellent; 54 per cent said they were non-existent. 202 That said, flexible working was found to be most important to tribunal judges, and tribunal judges also had the best access to flexible working. 203 An absence of flexible working in the higher judiciary might impede judicial progression and advancement, particularly for those with caring responsibilities (often women). In the National Survey of Australian Judges, 48.4 per cent of respondents identified compatibility with family responsibilities as an important or very important factor in their decision to become a judge. 204 Thus, a focus on workplace flexibility may enhance the judiciary as an institution, by promoting judicial recruitment, satisfaction and retention. 205
Promoting workplace flexibility is consistent with a labour law lens and trends for the general workforce, with the introduction of a statutory right to request flexible working in both the UK 206 and Australia. 207 However, unlike for the general workforce, flexible working is fairly uncommon for the judiciary. In England and Wales, part-time work has been available for some salaried (permanent) judicial roles up to and including at the High Court level since 2001. Part-time work was extended to all salaried posts in 2005, so long as it had ‘no material adverse impact on the business needs of the court or tribunal or the services to users’. 208 Thus, judges have ‘[no] absolute right to sit part-time nor is the opportunity to sit part-time reserved for discrete sections of the judiciary, such as those with caring responsibilities’. 209 Part-time sitting is seen as a ‘flexible concept’, and sitting patterns can take a ‘number of forms’ across days, weeks and months. 210 However, the minimum sitting requirement is normally at least 50 per cent of the full-time equivalent. 211 The Crime and Courts Act 2013 (UK) also amended s 23 of the CRA to provide that the Supreme Court must be composed of a maximum number of 12 full-time equivalent judges, rather than a maximum number of 12 individual judges. This has the potential to facilitate part-time judicial appointments to the Supreme Court, possibly allowing for more diverse appointments.
While it is desirable to facilitate part-time and flexible working for judges, it remains to be seen how many judges actually make use of these provisions and, indeed, whether part-time working becomes an acceptable option for the judiciary in practice. As noted above, few respondents in the 2016 UK Judicial Attitude Survey felt they had good access to flexible work: only 13 per cent rated opportunities as ‘good’ or ‘excellent’. 212 Thus, it appears that take-up of flexible work is limited in practice, possibly due to institutional constraints.
Flexible work arrangements for judicial officers have also been implemented in some Australian states and territories. Victorian magistrates and judges, for example, may work part-time under a part-time service agreement, so long as they perform a minimum proportion of 0.4 full-time duties. 213 In considering whether to enter into a part-time service arrangement, the Chief Justice or Chief Magistrate may have regard to the operational needs of the court; the personal and professional circumstances of the judge or magistrate; parity and equity with other judges or magistrates; and any other relevant considerations. 214 Under these provisions, part-time judges and magistrates must not engage in legal practice; must not undertake paid employment or conduct a business, trade or profession of any kind except with the approval of the Chief Justice or Chief Magistrate; and must not hold a remunerative office in any company, trustee company, incorporated association or other entity, except with the approval of the Chief Justice or Chief Magistrate. 215
In the National Survey of Australian Judges, most judges were satisfied with the compatibility of their role with family responsibilities (74.6 per cent), compatibility with lifestyle (75.4 per cent) and hours (70.8 per cent). 216 At the same time, 73.8 per cent of judges regarded the volume of work as unrelenting. 217 Forty-seven per cent of women respondents always felt rushed, compared with only 17 per cent of male respondents. 218 This difference was statistically significant. 219 Further, women judges are more likely to feel that work intrudes on family time and home life, with almost half of women judges saying that this happens always or often. 220 In Appleby and others’ 2016 survey of Australian judges, 77 per cent of respondents agreed or strongly agreed that workload was a challenge in their jurisdiction. 221
This may indicate that, while part-time work is at least notionally available in some courts, a broader cultural shift in favour of part-time and flexible working is required in Australia: as Opeskin notes, few Australian judges take up part-time roles,
222
let alone other forms of flexibility, meaning the potential of part-time work is ‘under-realised’.
223
Indeed, in Appleby and others’ survey, many of those same judges who saw workload as an issue also saw part-time judicial roles as a challenge for their jurisdiction: 32 per cent saw it as a challenge for the judiciary, and female judges were slightly more likely to perceive the use of part-time judges to be a challenge than their male counterparts.
224
Most of the concerns expressed by judges related to the administrative burden of facilitating part-time appointments.
225
The authors concluded that the high number of neutral responses to this question might reflect the underdeveloped use of part-time judges even in those jurisdictions that permit them, and the prohibition on part-time appointments at the higher levels, so that judicial officers have not had sufficient experience of these appointments to have formed a view [on the issue.]
226
Conclusion
Viewing the judiciary through a labour law lens starts down a contentious path: judges are loath to be seen as ‘employees’, 229 or to see the state as their ‘employer’, and concerns regarding judicial independence and the integrity of the judiciary must remain paramount in any discussion. That said, judges in the UK are increasingly finding (EU) labour law and collective action to be instrumentally useful in securing their position as workers, particularly in the face of government austerity measures. These actions have not been attempted (or, perhaps, even contemplated) in Australia. This may both reflect higher levels of contentment amongst Australian judicial officers, and a written constitutional framework that is far more sceptical of treating judges as workers.
The examples of judicial pay and pensions, which occur repeatedly in the sections above, provide a case study of the fundamental differences in how judges are viewed in Australia and the UK: in Australia, judges are treated differently to workers, and have therefore received lower pay increases than the general working population; in the UK, the structuring of judicial pension reforms (at least in relation to transitional provisions) appears to have been driven by a desire to treat judges in the same way as other public servants, including by introducing transitional provisions that were not tailored to the judiciary’s particular circumstances. 230 While the UK approach is more consistent with a labour law lens, it fails to acknowledge the existing differences between public service pensions and judicial pensions. 231
Reforms to judicial pensions in the UK therefore sound a note of caution in unreflexively applying a labour law lens in a way that does not accommodate the distinctive needs and institutional structures of the judiciary. However, potential barriers to the use of a labour law lens are not always fatal: it is possible to respect the needs of the judiciary as the third arm of government, while still adopting reforms to court processes. Indeed, a labour law lens is consistent with current trends in judicial and court reform, which have seen a renewed appreciation for the importance of court processes relating to appointment and recruitment, and workplace flexibility. A labour law perspective offers a means of critiquing these developments, which are still limited in their scope and impact, and offers ideas for how they could be improved or extended, using insights from the general workforce. Further, some of the institutional constraints encountered by the judiciary could be addressed using guidance applicable to the general workforce, as in the case of flexible working.
More generally, though, these examples illustrate the difficulty of ensuring adequate working conditions for the judiciary, particularly in relation to pay and pensions, in times of government austerity. While these are issues that affect all workers in periods of stagnating pay, a labour law lens reveals the risks to judicial retention and satisfaction that emerge from ignoring the personal and financial needs of the judiciary. As the judiciary faces an ever-challenging context — with the politicisation of judicial decision-making, 232 difficulties in recruitment in the UK 233 and declining resources for the courts 234 — it is imperative that court processes be reconsidered, to emphasise how judges are supported and developed throughout their career.
Resorting to legal action to secure better terms of work for the judiciary (including through the use of discrimination law) could be a problematic path: legal action to vindicate a workplace right might escalate tensions between the government and the judiciary, and could prevent considered and calm negotiation between the parties. That said, having a formalised structure for negotiation and consultation, like established labour law procedures for collective action, might actually help to defuse tension and provide a (more) predictable course of discussion. Thus, a labour law lens might both create and resolve tension in this area. This emphasises the importance of an integrated approach to a labour law lens and the potential complementarity of individual and collective rights.
Overall, then, a labour law lens offers a means of scrutinising court practices, to improve judicial recruitment, performance, satisfaction and retention. This will not only help judges as individuals and as a collective, but will also support the public function and constitutional role of the courts. Employment rights could actually strengthen the economic and practical independence of the judiciary. 235 Thus, a labour law lens could help to ensure the institutional integrity and quality of the judiciary, rather than running contrary to it. It therefore offers a useful complement to existing public law scholarship.
