Anne Prossnitz, Esquire

2022 Temple Bar Scholar Report

Prior to arriving in London for the 2022 Temple Bar Program, my exposure to legal London consisted of studying its sixteenth and seventeenth century history in law school. In my studies, legal London was a complex network of equity and common law courts; inns where students lived and learned the law by attending hours-long moots; and barristers racing around in wigs and robes. Plaintiffs in early modern England did not file a lawsuit with a single lawyer; instead, they had a bona fide team composed of a barrister, solicitor, and clerk. Fast-forward 400 years and I was surprised to find that while some of this has changed (no more hours-long moots or strict division between common law and equity), much has stayed the same.

Nowhere was this commitment to tradition more clearly on display than in the opening of the legal year at Westminster Abbey, which traces its origins to the Middle Ages. High court judges and senior barristers processed down the Abbey’s halls, bedecked in robes and wigs, before gathering to listen to the Dean of Westminster’s sermon. I could imagine a sixteenth century Court of Requests judge seated in the same hall, similarly being called upon to affirm his commitment to justice before commencing another legal year.

The confluence of church and state at this ceremony was not the only difference between the British and American legal systems that struck me during our first week there. At our visit to Outer Temple Chambers, we learned more about the division of labor between barristers and solicitors—another aspect of the historical English legal system that has endured. Barristers appear and argue in court, while solicitors work up the case and interact with clients throughout. The manifestation of the split profession that I found the most startling is how it plays out in the discovery or “disclosure” process, which itself is much more limited than our American incarnation. The solicitor is tasked with obtaining written statements from key witnesses, instead of depositions. As a result, the first time a barrister will meet or question a witness occurs on the stand during trial. Given the countless hours I had spent preparing for depositions and reviewing discovery in clinical work, it was difficult to disentangle the process from what I associate with litigation. The benefits are apparent: it allows cases to move through the courts faster and makes for less predictable in-court testimony.

During the second and third weeks of the program, I had the privilege of shadowing barristers at One Essex Court and Fountain Court Chambers, respectively. At One Essex, I attended a remote hearing with two barristers as they argued a motion to amend and strike in front of a Deputy Master, akin to a Magistrate Judge in the States. What I expected to be a relatively straight-forward and brief hearing based on the written submissions turned out to be closer to a marathon oral argument, with both parties displaying a masterful command of the record. My time at Fountain Court was equally illuminating as I spent the week observing a civil conspiracy trial in commercial court. Without the presence of a jury (as juries are no longer used in civil trials in the United Kingdom), counsel dove straight into the complexities of their case. I marveled at the barristers’ ability to speak at length and to respond to the judge’s questions about a highly technical subject, often without referring to written notes.

Additionally, between lunches, tea breaks, and hearings, I witnessed how collegial and collaborative the Bar can be. At One Essex, barristers often popped into each other’s rooms with legal research questions or joined each other for impromptu lunches at the inn. At Fountain Court’s weekly tea and cake break, I spoke with pupils, our equivalent of first-year associates, about their enthusiasm in working with both junior and senior barristers.

Our last week was spent as “clerks” on the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom, with each of us shadowing a different Justice. We prepared for a weighty case on whether Northern Ireland was obligated to revive its investigation into the 1989 death of an individual under the European Convention on Human Rights. Between our readings, conversations with the Justices, and talks with their judicial assistants, I received a crash course in European treaty law and its interaction with legal precedent in the United Kingdom. During two days of oral arguments, the advocates had the benefit of time to walk the Justices through the relevant documents and read passages from key cases. The process felt more conversational and less gladiatorial than oral arguments with strict time restrictions can sometimes be.

At our dinner with the Justices on one of the last evenings, I was asked what I would take away from this experience that would apply to my everyday career. I responded that while we are often told in law school that there is no one effective way to be an advocate, that does not often bear out, as we are still exposed to a common litigation style in American courts. The adage had not truly crystallized for me until seeing the deliberative and measured styles of barristers at trial and at the Supreme Court. Perhaps there are no longer hours-long moots at the inns, but the mastery and discipline of the advocates I observed appeared to be well-rooted in the English legal system.

I owe a profound thanks to my hosts at One Essex Court, Fountain Court Chambers, and the Supreme Court, as well as the many judges, barristers, and solicitors we met for their generosity of time throughout our stay. They provided us with an immersive, richly informed, and once in a lifetime experience. I am also deeply appreciative to the American Inns of Court for sponsoring and coordinating this extraordinary program.