Book review: The Secret Barrister: Stories of the Law and How It’s Broken

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The Secret Barrister is, in simple terms, a modern and up-to-date exposé of criminal law and court proceedings in England and Wales. It has allegedly been penned by a junior barrister of 10 years’ experience who, in their own words, describes the barrister role as one that ‘first and foremost advocates, presenting cases in court, usually the Crown Court, on behalf of either the prosecution or the defence’ (p. 10). However in the opening chapter the author goes on to explain that:

…in practice, the job also requires the skills of a social worker, relationship counsellor, arm-twister, hostage negotiator, named driver, bus fare-provider, accountant, suicide-watchman, coffee supplier, surrogate parent and, on one memorable occasion, whatever the official term is for someone tasked with breaking the news to a prisoner that his girlfriend has been diagnosed with gonorrhea. (p. 10)

There are many readers of this journal who will relate to that last quote, and this why it is a must for anyone working in probation services.

The author starts off by explaining to the lay person, in a somewhat tongue-in-cheek introduction, how and why the criminal court system was formed. The author disarms the reader with humour and Rumpolesque vocabulary, but don’t be fooled by this, as this book significantly undermines the idea of justice, the very core of a justice system that our modern-day society believes it has as protection. This assertion is summarised thus:

…as someone immersed in the fog of the criminal courts, my fear is that the public’s lack of insight into our secretive, opaque system is allowing the consecration of a way of dealing with crime that bears little resemblance to what we understand by criminal justice. That defendants, victims and, ultimately, society are being failed daily by an entrenched disregard for fundamental principles of fairness. That we are moving from a criminal justice system to simply a criminal system. (p. 9)

With comments like this is it any wonder the name and identity of the author is anonymous? Indeed, this is a core theme running throughout the book. We do not know if the author is who they say they are; nor can we be certain that the book is not written by some wily old retired judge or journalist wanting to settle scores with the system. However, to all intents and purposes, if disbelief is suspended this is what makes this book particularly exciting – to think that this person is still working daily in a court near you. Finally, the need for anonymity is striking given the outing and repercussions of others within the criminal justice system who have dared to speak out about their profession, department or institution. The bravery of this person, knowing that their career could be smashed on the rocks of institutional outrage at any moment, only adds to the importance of the words and message within.

Throughout the book the author continually uses trials, cases (disguised to protect persons involved), procedures and policies to destroy the idea that the law is there to protect you. The unashamed observation that people are not receiving a fair and just representation, never mind trial, leads the reader into the future ramifications of those convicted of a crime. In a probation context this is extremely worrying as risk factors are established in part by a person admitting responsibility or guilt and owning up to their alleged crime. For many, non-disclosure of material evidence has led to cases collapsing, or alternatively an innocent person is sent to jail and a guilty one set free.

The author describes how the decimation of criminal justice institutions across the board has led to many not being fit for purpose. With regard to the probation system the secret barrister states:

the tearing up of local probation service trusts in 2014 has been the disaster that was predicted.…There has followed a stream of reports criticizing the woeful performance of many community rehabilitation companies, repeating recurring complaints from demoralized staff. Meanwhile at the National Probation Service, inexperienced, inadequately trained staff are monitoring ever-increasing caseloads of high-risk offenders in the community. (pp. 326-327)

I feel like a relatively short review is doing The Secret Barrister an injustice. I spent weeks reading it as I didn’t want to miss a single point and made 4000 words of notes, and I still feel as if I have fallen short. I loved this book for its humour in a dark place and for its simplicity in explaining the good, the ugly and mostly the bad scenarios in our court proceedings – the aftermath of which, probation officers, more than likely, have to contend with. A must read, for anyone who works within the law and criminal justice system. Will there be The Secret Probation Officer?