Barristers’ career motivations in the twentieth century

ABSTRACT

Lawyers’ motivations are often scrutinised at the formative stages of their legal education or early careers. Aspiring lawyers are asked what they wish to achieve, why they want to work as lawyers, or what sort of lawyers they wish to be. This article takes a different approach, considering lawyers’ motivations retrospectively. It asks lawyers who are retired, or who are near the end of their careers, to reflect on what had originally motivated them to work in the field. It combines social science research methodology with legal historical scholarship, to gain a better understanding of what motivated lawyers in Ireland in the mid- to late-twentieth century.

1. Introduction and context

The career motivations of lawyers are often scrutinised. Usually this is done at some point during their legal education or when they are at the early stages of their careers. Aspiring or junior lawyers are asked about why they want to work as lawyers, what sort of law they wish to practise, and generally about their goals, objectives and motivations. Taking a different approach, this article considers lawyers’ motivations retrospectively. Barristers who were at or near retirement were asked to reflect on what had originally motivated them to work at the Bar in the twentieth century. The career motivations of twentieth-century barristers are worthy of study, not only to gain better insights into the profession but also because barristers played very significant roles in Irish public life for most of the century. As well as being legal practitioners, they were politicians, public servants, broadcasters and commentators. They had the power to shape both public debate and public policy, but hitherto their experiences and motivations have received little scrutiny. This article sheds light on the motivations of those who joined the profession and who held positions of considerable influence and authority in the Irish state.

Ireland in the twentieth century had inherited a “split” legal profession of barristers and solicitors. Solicitors were client-facing and conducted transactional work, such as conveyancing and probate, as well as some limited advocacy (Hogan 1986; Hall & Hogan 2002). Barristers were specialised advocates, briefed by solicitors (Ferguson 2005; Howlin 2023). Practising barristers were self-employed individuals. Unlike in England and Wales, they did not operate out of chambers, but rather worked in a communal Law Library similar to that in Northern Ireland (Hart 2013). Payment of an annual library subscription gave barristers access to a workspace, social spaces, communications infrastructure and a repository of printed legal sources (Howlin 2023). Overheads could be kept relatively low, and success did not depend on getting into chambers (or on getting into “the right” chambers). Morison and Leith, examining the working lives of barristers in Ireland and Northern Ireland in the 1990s, point out that the library system also “radically” affected how work was allocated, compared to in a chambers system (Morison & Leith 1992). The centrality of the Law Library to the Irish profession was later enshrined in the Code of Conduct of the General Council of the Bar of Ireland, which was given written expression in the 1980s: rule 8.18 stated that the Law Library was “the central and primary place of practice for the Bar of Ireland”.

As an independent referral Bar, the “cab rank rule” meant that clients, via their solicitors, could avail of the services of any available practising barrister (Flood 2022). As one interviewee expressed it, “it was considered that you had an obligation to accept every case which was within your competence. It’s possible to turn down work because you’re too busy, because you don’t have time or because you don’t know enough about it” (P25). Barristers were sole practitioners, and were not permitted to conduct themselves as partners or groups of associates. This independence brought with it both advantages and disadvantages. Being self-employed meant that each individual barrister was responsible for all aspects of their practice, including correspondence, filing, researching, typing (or later, word-processing), keeping accounts, chasing fees and paying taxes. Unlike in England and Wales, a barrister could not rely on the practical support of a chambers clerk to deal with administrative matters, though some barristers privately engaged professional accountants, typists or secretaries.

Before being called to the Bar all barristers had to complete a Barrister-at-Law (BL) degree at the King’s Inns in Dublin (Kenny 2016). The King’s Inns offered several different pathways to qualification in the twentieth century. Some barristers had university degrees in law; others had degrees in other disciplines, and some did not have university degrees, but completed a diploma in legal studies at the King’s Inns before commencing their BL degree. Of those who had studied at university, University College Dublin was the most common place from which bachelor’s degrees were awarded, followed by Trinity College Dublin.

Over the course of the twentieth century, the number of practising barristers in Ireland grew significantly. This was most evident from the 1960s, following several decades of low, relatively stable numbers. The gender composition of the Bar began to change from the early 1970s, when increasing numbers of women joined the profession (Bacik et al. 2003), and the socio-economic composition broadened as free secondary and third level education brought a more diverse range of students into law schools (Howlin 2023). Barristers’ fees and incomes were relatively moderate until the late 1980s and 1990s saw significant growth in areas such as high-value commercial litigation and state tribunal work (Howlin 2023).

2. Lawyers’ motivations

Some writers on the legal professions presume the existence of certain values among early-career lawyers. For example, writing in the late 1990s, in a US context, Simon considered that “[m]any young people go to law school in the hope of finding a career in which they can contribute to society” (Simon 1998, p. 1). A few years later, Rhode referred to “the values of social justice that sent [lawyers] to law in the first place” (Rhode 2003). Mcleay describes the ideal of “the good lawyer” as a possible motivating factor for lawyers who carry out pro bono work in the interests of ensuring access to justice (Mcleay 2008). Abel notes that after the Second World War, US lawyers were “inspired by the rights revolution: the civil rights and anti-war movements, feminism, environmentalism, consumerism, and the ‘War on Poverty’” (Abel et al. 2015, p. 203).

Commentators from outside the legal profession, by contrast, sometimes ascribe more venal or self-serving motivations to lawyers: power, status and money (Rhode 2003). These competing visions of lawyers’ motivations represent two ends of a spectrum. Such “bi-polar representations of legal roles” have been identified by Boon as typical in discourse on common law legal professions (Boon 2005). He cites as examples Scherr’s superhero vs wage slave analogy (Sherr 1995), Twining’s dichotomy of “statesman policy-maker” vs “mere technician” (Twining 1967) and Goldsmith’s heroes vs technicians analogy (Goldsmith 1996). However, it is not always necessarily clear that social justice is a significant career motivator for aspiring barristers; nor is it necessarily the case that barristers are mainly motivated by self-interest. The reality may lie somewhere between the two extremes, and there may be additional motivating factors which have not been captured in the literature to date.

The late decades of the twentieth century saw scholarship on motivation among law students in the United States and the United Kingdom. For example, in the 1970s, Erlanger and Klegon found that altruistic motivations declined between the start of law school and the early years of legal practice (Erlanger & Klegon 1976). Other studies in the United States have similarly found that socialisation in law school tended to motivate students away from public-interest idealism (Homer & Schwartz 1989–1990 Schleef 1997). In the late 1980s, Sherr and Webb considered the motivations of university law students in the United Kingdom (Sherr & Webb 1989). They found that law students’ motivations were, in descending order, interest in subject matter, desire for intellectual stimulation, desire for professional training, desire to practise law, prospects of above average income, enjoyment of debating and arguing, desire for independence, expectation of a stable, secure future and the prestige of the profession.

Early-career motivations among lawyers were included in Dinovitzer and Dawe’s more recent comparative analysis of the legal professions in Canada and the United States. Although motivation was not the primary focus of that study, it identified the following common early-career motivations: desire to pay off debt; desire for prestige; desire to promote social justice; and desire for work/life balance (Dinovitzer & Dawe 2016). These factors impacted junior lawyers’ decisions to work in large law firms or in the public sector.

There has been no detailed empirical work to date on lawyers’ motivations in mid-twentieth-century Ireland. Connolly and Hilliard included, in their 1993 study of women in Irish legal professions, discussion and analyses of women lawyers’ aspirations (Connolly & Hilliard 1993). Their focus was more on the personal traits considered essential for success than on the factors which motivated the study participants to pursue careers at the Bar, but nevertheless the study provides some useful insights into the mindset of 1990s female barristers and solicitors. In their 2003 study, Bacik, Costello and Drew explored the experiences of women barristers and solicitors in more depth, including their typical career trajectories and areas of specialisation (Bacik et al. 2003).

There are several examples of published and unpublished memoirs of twentieth-century Irish barristers, and such narratives were generally for public consumption and entertainment (Healy 1939; de Vere White 1957; Deale 1971; Comyn 1973, 1982, 1983, 1991, 1993, 1994, 1996; Bewley 1989; Lee 1990; MacKenzie 1991; Mackey 1991; Lindsay 1992; O’Higgins 1996). They tended to have a dual focus: the retelling of amusing anecdotes, and the creation of a narrative arc which described key professional milestones. Their authors tended to say little about their motivations for joining the Bar. Several had family members who were lawyers (e.g. Healy 1939; de Vere White 1957; Comyn 1973 et seq; O’Higgins 1996), and it is to be presumed that this at least partially influenced their career decisions. Those who recalled other motivations did not tend to go into much detail. For example, Lindsay (1992, p. 95) recalled “ …  it was the sense of theatre about the courts which appealed to me”.

It is evident that a range of factors has motivated law students and early-career lawyers in common law jurisdictions, both in the decision to pursue legal careers, and in choosing one type of legal career over another. A specific focus of this article is why law students or early-career lawyers chose the Bar over other legal careers, such as working in a solicitors’ firm.

3. Methodology

This study uses qualitative data gathered from interviews with individuals who practised as barristers in the twentieth century. There were 29 semi-structured, face-to-face interviews. The purpose of the interviews was to access first-hand accounts of experiences of life at the Bar, where there has always been a rich oral tradition. Barristers in other jurisdictions have been interviewed about aspects of their work (e.g. Hunter 2005; Flood & Whyte 2009; Flood & Hviid 2013; Goulandris 2020). There also are a small number of Irish studies, which have employed interviews (Morison & Leith 1992; Connolly & Hilliard 1993; Caroll McNeil 2016; Coen et al. 2020) focus groups (Bacik et al. 2003) and questionnaires (Bourke 1966; Bacik et al., 2003).

Ethical approval for this project was granted by University College Dublin. The research participants were people who had been in practice in the second half of the twentieth century. The earliest call to the Bar among the participants was 1953 and the latest was 1993. One was called in the 1950s; five in the 1960s; thirteen in the 1970s; eightin the 1980s; and two in the 1990s. Most participants were called to the Bar in their mid-twenties.

Those who left the Bar to take up judicial posts (see below) had more truncated careers at the Bar, and were also subject to a statutory retirement age. Those who remained had lengthy careers at the Bar spanning several decades. Six participants had worked at the bar for 50 years or more, for example. Most were called to the Bar in their mid-twenties.

The study sought to capture as diverse a range of experiences as possible, while still recognising that this was a relatively small-scale qualitative project. Purposive sampling was therefore used in selecting participants. Approximately one-third (nine) of the participants were women, which broadly aligned with the proportion of women at the Bar by the end of the twentieth century. The participants also represented different practice areas (family law, crime, judicial review, personal injuries, etc.), as well as different geographic areas. Both of these tended to change over time – the Irish Bar was quite generalist in nature, and barristers tended to work in different practice areas, or might start out working on circuit around the country, but settled in Dublin after they took silk. Most of the participants had very large, busy practices while three had, in their own analysis, more modest practices. Almost all participants had experience of practising in both the superior courts (High Court and Supreme Court) as well as in the lower courts (District Court and Circuit Court).

Eleven participants (just under 38 per cent) came from families where there were already barristers, solicitors or judges, while the majority were from non-legal backgrounds. While some participants discussed their involvement with party politics, others had no experience in this area. Those who were politically active were involved with the centre-right and centre-left parties Fine Gael, Fianna Fail and Labour, in that order. Not all participants identified their religious background, if any, but those who did included one Jewish, one Presbyterian, one Church of Ireland and six Roman Catholics. The sample also included some diversity in terms of disability and sexuality: one participant self-identified as LGBTQ+ and one disclosed a learning disability. The participants also had different educational backgrounds. Most had primary degrees from universities and some had encompassed disciplines other than law, including mathematics, commerce and economics. The participants also had diverse professional backgrounds. One participant had worked as a solicitor before being called to the Bar and two had worked in academia. Others had jobs or careers unrelated to law: one worked in sales, another in a manual job, and another managed a farm, continuing to do so while working at the Bar.

Four participants held the role of Attorney General (the legal advisor to the government and the most senior barrister in the state) later in their career. Eleven had served as judges in the superior courts after their career at the Bar. There is a considerable body of literature which addresses some of the challenges and considerations for researchers who interview elites such as members of legal professions (e.g. Nir 2018). Some social scientists argue that “elite” groups are more difficult to penetrate than other types of groups (e.g. Cochrane 1998; Desmond 2004). Smith, however, argues that many of the claims made in relation to “elite” interviews are equally applicable to other types of interview. She also questions the use of the term “elite”, which rests on “the rather simplistic idea that there is a dichotomy between ‘powerful elite’ and ‘powerless others’” (Smith 2006, p. 645). Accessing interview participants in this instance was relatively straightforward, partly due to the smallness of the jurisdiction and the use of the “snowballing” technique (asking interviewees to recommend other interviewees). Literature on interviewing elites indicates that respondents such as judges and lawyers are alert to status and expect to be interviewed by individuals of similar standing who are knowledgeable about legal work (Fielding 2002). The gulf between practising lawyers and legal academics is not as wide as, say, the gap between medical practitioners and social geographers.

Various challenges present themselves when interviewing members of the legal professions. Some of these can be characterised as problems of trust and understanding. For example, potential participants might see no value in the academic research; there might be some mistrust between the legal professional and the academic researcher; and the purpose of the research might not be clearly communicated. Practical problems also present themselves: barristers may live or work anywhere in the country; if still in practice, they are likely to be very busy with limited time to spare; conversely, those who are retired may be vulnerable, or suffer from ill-health. In a performative profession such as the Bar where success is to be projected, it might be difficult for barristers to honestly articulate frailties or anxieties. Morison and Leith captured some of these potential difficulties, acknowledging that it might be difficult for barristers to give frank and truthful answers to their questions, and they identified some possible reasons for this: “they might wish to express (and, perhaps, believe in) the professional ideology; they might be suspicious of our intentions; they might simply misinterpret the questions asked of them” (Morison & Leith 1992, 14). Another difficulty when it comes to asking individuals about their professional motivations is that there may be a temptation to ascribe lofty motivations and aspirations to their decisions. More venial considerations of power, money and status, for example, might be quietly dropped from the narrative; people wish to present themselves in the most positive light. However, such risks are ever-present in qualitative research which relies on personal narratives.

The present study differs from some of the earlier studies mentioned above in that participants were asked retrospectively about their career motivations, rather than at a contemporaneous time early in their careers. There are clearly some limitations to this; the passage of time can cloud memories, and past decisions can be overlain with current concerns.

The interviews were typically 90 minutes in length, each generating around 30 pages of typed text upon transcription. Coding was done using NVivo software. Interviews took place at times and in locations chosen by the participants for their convenience. This included my on-campus office and the participants’ homes, home offices or libraries, official or private offices and judicial chambers. In advance of the interviews, all participants were provided with “participant information sheets” explaining the scope and purpose of the study, and the purpose of the interviews. Some participants communicated clarificatory questions or queries in advance of their interviews. Some sought to see the question topics in advance. I also encouraged post-interview follow-up questions or queries. Interviews were audio-recorded, with the exception of one, where the participant declined to be audio-recorded. Several participants requested and were provided with typed transcripts of their interviews, and once or twice a participant requested that a statement be removed, redacted or clarified.

Elites are said to be averse to standardised research instruments, preferring a conversational format (Fielding 2002). The semi-structured format adopted in these interviews involved drafting an interview schedule with question topics to be covered, but allowing the conversation to stray beyond the set questions and allowing topics to arise naturally in the course of the conversation rather than sticking rigidly to the schedule. Given the diversity of experiences among the participants, several of them had considerably more to say on some topics than on others. The semi-structured format allowed for deeper discussion of those topics. This flexible approach also allowed for wider discussion; it facilitated exploration of the unanticipated and unexpected topics which arose. It also allowed for follow-up and clarificatory questions, helping to avoid misunderstanding or miscommunication.

4. Career motivations: push and pull factors

Participants were asked about their paths to careers at the Bar and about their early motivations. They were asked not what motivated them to study law or to work in the general field of law, but specifically why they chose the Bar, as opposed to other types of legal careers such as working as a solicitor. Most participants cited multiple push and pull factors which influenced them to join the profession, rather than a single motivator. As will be seen below, the most commonly cited reasons were family tradition; the influence of friends; having had some experiences with the law; a desire to help people; and a desire for independence. Some were attracted to the Bar on the basis of their university experiences, for example in debating. Less commonly cited was a desire for status. One participant (P4) claimed not to have wanted a career at the Bar at all; they wished to pursue artistic pursuits, but were pushed into a career in law by members of their family. This was the only individual who did not appear to have agency in relation to their career decisions, though as will be seen below, not all participants could identify any clear motivation for joining the Bar. Some joined the Bar as a result of strong “push” factors, such as wishing to avoid working as solicitors, or desiring to leave another career and start afresh. Others joined the Bar simply due to a lack of other opportunities.

4.1. Pull factors

Individuals were attracted to the Bar by a number of things, including people they already knew at the Bar, the work environment and the opportunity to engage in oral advocacy.

4.1.1. Family and friends

As noted, 11 participants disclosed that there were other legal professionals in their families when they started their legal careers. Some were thus following in a family tradition in choosing the Bar. One, for example, explained that their mother was a barrister (P21), and four said that their fathers were barristers (P2, P11, P18, P26), though interestingly, one of these was at pains to point out that this did not constitute a “family tradition”, saying:

I chose to do it because my father had done it ... but more because it seemed like an interesting life. (P26)

Several had siblings at the Bar (P25, P26, P28) who provided encouragement or support. Others cited more distant relations, such as a cousin (P10) who qualified around the same time as them, and another whose aunt had qualified as a barrister:

I had an aunt … called to the Bar in the 1940s which was most unusual … but she didn’t practise very long at the Bar so she wasn’t a barrister when I knew her. (P7)

Some had family members who were solicitors (P4, P14, P15), while others mentioned having relatives who were members of legal professions in other jurisdictions (e.g. P15).

The relatively high incidence of family connections among the participants is unsurprising given the dynastic nature of the legal profession in twentieth-century Ireland. There were families with three generations of barristers who not only practised at the Bar but held senior positions in the judiciary and as elected representatives.

4.1.2. Influenced by friends or acquaintances

As well as family, some participants (e.g. P25) were influenced by friends or acquaintances who were barristers and who made it seem like an appealing career choice. One participant, who had left school at a relatively early age and worked in a field which had nothing to do with law, met a barrister through playing rugby:

He took a bit of interest in me and then at some stage said “well, the Bar might suit”, so that’s how … I ended up doing that. (P9)

P14 recalled being “constantly drawn to my friends who were doing law”. Another participant developed friendships with “people who were … also Arts students but were going to do Kings Inns and it kind of seemed like a good idea at the time really” (P27). In a profession composed of self-employed individuals, where feelings of isolation were not uncommon (Howlin 2023), having a ready-made network of family, friends or acquaintances was extremely helpful. Irish barristers had no law firm or chambers structure, and many relied on relationships forged at school, university, the King’s Inns, or through sporting, political or religious associations.

4.1.3. Personal experiences

Three participants were drawn to the Bar because of earlier interactions with the law; for example:

There was a lot of emphasis on law in my family in the sense that my father was always involved with people who were in trouble. (P5)

One recalled, as a student, attending a court case in which their father was involved as a litigant:

I think I spent an afternoon watching some of the older seniors examining or cross-examining … (P25)

Another had been involved in a legal case where they had been held to be at fault:

I will never forget my experience in court that day … I was very driven by that experience. (P14)

These personal experiences of the law in action had a formative impact in motivating individuals to pursue careers as advocates.

The impact of university experiences was interesting. For many participants, university was a formative period where they “discovered” the law or discovered advocacy or debating, whether or not law was their primary discipline. Six participants specifically mentioned pursuing debating or public speaking at university. For example, one participant, who was studying for a degree other than law, recalled:

I got involved in debating. And through debating I met a lot of lawyers, star lawyers, and a lot of them came to the Bar. (P7)

Another, who was also studying a different discipline, said:

Initially I wouldn’t have had any interest in doing law but when I went to college I was involved in debating and stuff like that and I became interested in it. (P15)

I went to university without any great idea about what I was going to do … I became involved in debating … . (P27)

Debating, acting and public speaking appealed to several of those interviewed:

I was interested in things like debating and public performance and you get the idea that if you like the sound of your own voice that’s something that an awful lot of barristers have in common … that was the bit that appealed. (P21)

I did a lot of amateur drama, I liked public speaking, I enjoyed it, I participated a lot in debates, I didn’t win any competitions. I really enjoyed amateur drama, I really liked it and I liked acting and just really enjoyed public speaking. I’m a kind of gregarious person. (P14)

I loved the debating in college … whilst I didn’t debate a huge amount myself, I loved the cut and thrust of listening to the debate. (P16)

As well as involvement with debating societies, other participants recalled being inspired by law lectures. One described somewhat serendipitously wandering into a law lecture during their early days at university:

I did not know what I wanted to do when I left school. I liked debating, I liked public speaking and in those days you were able to just wander around university deciding what you might like to do, so freshers’ week was a week spent partying and basically going from one lecture to another and when I got into a law lecture given by John M. Kelly, the constitutional academic lawyer, I was just fascinated by the lecture and I literally decided I’d come back for more of that. (P14)

Another participant mentioned that Professor Kelly’s lectures “were so popular that students and some mature people from other faculties would come and sit in the back of the class” (P17).

Several participants said that they had been interested in debating at school or university, and that the Bar then appeared to be the natural progression:

Because I was good at all the things in school that suggest that’s where you might go. I was good at English, I was good at history, I was captain of the debating team, I was interested in politics and current affairs and it just seemed like a fit. (P10)

By contrast, one participant said that although they had been interested in law before attending university, “ …  when I went to college then I lost complete interest in the law. Wasn’t interested in the law, wasn’t interested in the law at all” (P5). Nevertheless, this individual ultimately ended up practising at the Bar for many years.

4.1.4. Independence

As noted, Irish barristers worked independently and were neither employed in law firms nor grouped in chambers. For some, this was a cause of anxiety or stress during their professional lives, but several participants were particularly attracted in their early years to the idea of being independent and self-employed:

The idea of being self-employed … was interesting to me. (P15)

I had an idea about it alright as being a kind of individual endeavour as being opposed to being a kind of “mouse on a wheel”. (P22)

Working at the Bar offered a level of flexibility and individuality not available to those who chose to work in solicitors’ firms or, for example, in the civil service.

4.1.5. Other motivations

Only one participant (P7) referred to status as a motivator, and only one recalled having a desire to help people:

From an early stage I just recall wanting to do law. Some of it comes from watching – ridiculous now in hindsight – TV programmes which didn’t reflect the reality, but it always seemed to me that being a lawyer was about assisting people in whatever way that was. It was about doing right and making sure that people got their rights accorded to them so that was always my main motivation. (P13)

The low incidence of these motivations is somewhat surprising, given how much they are cited in the international literature. This is discussed further below.

4.2. Push factors

In addition to the various “pull” factors outlined above, there were also “push” factors which nudged participants into careers at the Bar, despite not necessarily being attracted by anything inherent in the profession.

4.2.1. Barrister as second choice

Not everyone who joined the Bar did so as their first career choice. As discussed above, it was not necessary to have an undergraduate degree in law in order to qualify as a barrister. Whilst some barristers studied law at university, others had diverse educational backgrounds, with degrees in such disciplines as arts, mathematics, commerce, architecture, medicine or veterinary medicine. Some had either disliked or failed in these disciplines and found their way into law as a second choice. For example:

I couldn’t get into Medicine and I would have to repeat a year and my parents didn’t have the money to support me through maybe 8 or 9 years in Medicine and so my father encouraged me to look at other options and probably my second option would have been Law. (P16)

I didn’t really like doing Medicine. So after one or two not very successful academic years, I headed for [University College Dublin] and Law and to tell the truth I never failed an exam subsequently so … that was me and Law. (P18)

Another (P20) said they joined the Bar “having failed Veterinary”, while P25 reflected:

I knew that I would never get a good enough degree to go into the Foreign Service which is something I would have been interested in. I also knew that I really wasn’t going to be a great person in a nine-to-five job. So the Bar was by default, it’s not because I sort of said, “oh I want to be that, do that or say that”. (P25)

Aside from those who were unsuccessful in their undergraduate studies, other barristers chose this career in an attempt to escape from a family business or a career path that had been set out by their family. For example:

I discovered after about a year I wasn’t terribly happy in the [family] business. I actually didn’t really like it and I was constantly drawn to my friends who were doing law. (P14)

Another (P5) said “probably the biggest reason was to avoid becoming an engineer”. These instances of people joining the Bar as a second choice or even as a last resort contrast with much of the international literature which portrays legal careers as aspirational.

4.2.2. “Not a solicitor”

An unexpected finding was that several participants turned to the Bar as a somewhat extreme reaction to exposure to the possibility of working in a firm of solicitors. Several aspects of solicitors’ work were identified as unattractive or unappealing, including the salary, the physical environment, the repetitious nature of the work and the perceived lack of freedom. Seven participants specifically cited an aversion to solicitors’ work. For example:

I was brought in to meet the family solicitor … He was a very, very old tradition style solicitor. I think I probably lost interest when he said to me that I could apprentice to him and that all going well that when I qualified I’d earn seven pounds a week … I’d had summer jobs where I’d earned multiples of that, so I felt that maybe being a solicitor’s apprentice wasn’t quite for me, so I decided that the Bar was what I wanted to do and that’s what I went for. (P12)

I spent three months in a solicitor’s office before I did the Bar and I walked out one day and said “oh my God, is this what they’re doing?” They were talking about wills and conveyancing … to me a nightmare. (P20)

Another recalled a “very, very short experience of one day in a solicitor’s office … just one day. Less than a day” (P23), while others did not need the office experience to know that they were “never in favour of being a solicitor anyway” (P8). For example:

I was in absolutely no doubt from the very start that I was going to do the Bar rather than solicitors. Solicitors would never have been in my mind’s eye at all, from right at the start. (P16)

Some described their impressions of solicitors’ firms:

I just thought it more office-bound … solicitors’ offices would have been unattractive to me … in those days, you always had to ask counsel for their opinion. (P17)

Initially I did apply for some solicitors’ firms in London and I did an interview with one of the big firms for about three hours and I think I realised during that, this wasn’t really for me … I think it was that experience going in and everyone seemed to have their little desk and their cubbyholes and it was all feverish activity and I just thought, I just had a very intense feeling that this wasn’t for me  … . (P22)

There may have been personal characteristics which rendered these individuals more suited to working as independent barristers than as employed solicitors. This is considered further below.

4.2.3. Motivations unclear

There were participants who were unable to point to any specific motivation for joining the Bar. They were vague about how or why they developed an interest in advocacy. For example:

I don’t know how I developed an interest in it. (P1)

I had no idea how or why I wanted the Bar, I just wanted to do it. (P3)

Why did I do it  …  I couldn’t tell you … I can’t tell you why. (P8)

This could partly be explained by the passage of time; two of the participants mentioned above were called in the early 1970s. However, it is also likely that some people who entered the profession simply never clearly identified or articulated their own motivations. P3 recalled having a “great feeling” about the decision: “I just knew that this was where I want[ed] to be”.

4.2.4. Accidental barristers?

Some participants found themselves unintentionally pursuing a career at the Bar. They wished either to broaden their experiences or to gain a professional qualification, and found themselves enjoying the work more than they had expected. One participant, who worked in academia, decided to spend a year devilling so as to better understand the practice of law and thus inform their academic teaching (P24). They found that working at the Bar suited them so much that they wished to pursue it on a full-time basis, and left academia. Another described deciding to study for the Barrister-at-Law qualification, not intending to practise at the Bar on a long-term basis:

I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do after college … As I finished my degree course I was not intending to become a professional lawyer … Then I thought I might as well do the King’s Inns and get the professional qualification and it still wasn’t clear to me what I wanted to do so I thought I would give the Law Library a try and loved it and stayed with it. (P28)

While neither of these individuals had intended to practise as barristers, both had successful and rewarding careers at the Bar. This kind of serendipitous career path is not usually captured in empirical studies which focus on barristers’ motivations and career choices prospectively, rather than retrospectively.

5. Discussion

Both push and pull factors were identified among the career motivations identified by the interview participants. The main “pull” factors appear to have been having family and friends at the Bar (and working as solicitors), and a fondness for debating at school or university. These considerations addressed both the social and practical demands of the profession. The main push factor was that joining the Bar was better than the other career alternatives available; for some it may have been the “least worst option”, and was, for several individuals, certainly preferable to working a solicitor. While some participants could clearly articulate a dominant motivation for their choice, others mentioned multiple factors, reflecting the complexity of career decision-making. For example, P5 was both trying to escape a family business, and was influenced by seeing the law in action. This is unsurprising; complex career decisions necessarily involve a multitude of considerations.

Very few participants mentioned loftier ambitions such as upholding the rule of law, protecting the marginalised or disadvantaged, or “doing good” in the world. One participant expressed this as follows:

There was no great “I want to be an outstanding lawyer, I want to play a role in the administration of justice”, it was: “I better do something that’s not intellectually taxing” so I ended up in the King’s Inns and in [university] and qualified in ‘68. (P20)

The ideal of “the good lawyer” was not something which featured in these discussions of motivations. One participant said that their main motivation for joining the Bar was simply their interest in the law (P14); another described being attracted to “the majesty of the law” (P17).

Purely financial considerations were also conspicuously absent as stated motivations. However, one could infer that such considerations may have co-existed alongside some of the acknowledged motivators, particularly for those who joined the Bar from the late 1980s on, when earnings began to rise. In that decade, public attention focused on high-earning barristers and there was considerable media coverage of barristers’ fees, particularly in relation to tribunal work. From the 1990s, a number of high-profile tribunals of inquiry were established under the Tribunals of Inquiry (Evidence) Act 1921. These were extraordinarily expensive, and some ran for several years. Very high fees were paid to some barristers for their work on these tribunals (Barry & O’Dowd 2001) and this attracted significant commentary in the media and in public discourse generally (e.g. Irish Press, 1993, 1994; Irish Independent, 1997; Irish Times, 1997). The Law Reform Commission later estimated that between 70 and 80 per cent of the costs of some of them “were attributable to third-party legal fees” (Law Reform Commission 2005, para 7.43).

6. Conclusion

As discussed above, scholars such as Simon, Rhode, Mcleay and Abel ascribed various motivations to junior lawyers which can collectively be described as “a desire to do good”.

Simon wrote that the lofty aspirations of law students, who wished to achieve social good, were not usually realised, and that “[l]ate in their careers, especially if they achieve worldly success, they often recall their hopes with nostalgia and regret” (Simon 1998, p. 1). However, it has been demonstrated that such aspirations were, for the most part, absent from the interviews conducted with members of the Irish Bar. Absent too was a sense of regret about unfulfilled ambition. Almost every barrister interviewed for this project expressed satisfaction with their careers, and was able to point to specific aspects of work at the Bar which they had enjoyed.

Common public perceptions of barristers’ motivations, such as the prestige or financial gain identified by scholars such as Rhode, were not necessary aligned to the realities, certainly as expressed by the members of the profession interviewed for this project. Although most of the discourse on lawyers’ motivations has tended to take what Boon describes as “bi-polar representations”, it is evident that a scale which ranges from “doing good” to “power and prestige” will not capture all of the motivations of lawyers or potential lawyers. More prosaic considerations such as family connections and an enjoyment of public speaking were the dominant influencers.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).