2009 Annual Dinner

THE GREAT HALL, LINCOLN’S INN

AFTER DINNER SPEECH 

BY MR. JUSTICE PENRY-DAVEY

Mr Senior, whilst the young cry, “Who is Penry-Davey?” (or worse, “Who does he think he is?”) a few of you, like the rose red city, half as old as time, may experience a hint of déjà vu in my speaking at this dinner. It was 17 years ago to the very day, 26 June 1992, that I first spoke here and 15 years ago that I did so (as you and I believed) for the last time. What, I hear you cry, have we done to deserve this? Somewhere at those dinners in a dark corner of this hall was a young, ebullient, bouncy, thrusting and prematurely rotund junior. If you were against him, it was unwise in advance of the case to disclose your home telephone number because he had comfortably the largest telephone bill on the Circuit. Though, in a sense, he glittered, even amongst the Circuit cognoscenti, there were few who dreamt that the glittering prize of the leadership of the circuit would one day Stephen be yours. Indeed, I see from your recent Leader’s Column in the Circuit magazine that you scarcely believe it yourself. Perhaps the electorate of the Circuit are the living embodiment of the old maxim, “There’s nowt so queer as folk,” but one thing is clear, Mr Senior: I lay entirely at your door the responsibility for the recycling of the pre-senile probably past it Parkinson’s Penry, the poor person’s Puisne, from the slim, serious, sensible, sentient, sensitively sexy, senior circuit Silk that I was all those years ago.

And so I rise, this time with considerable difficulty, to what used to be my feet more conscious than ever of the privilege of being guest of honour of the Circuit, of which all my professional life I was a member and for which I have such great and enduring affection. Mr Senior, like your predecessors, you will sometimes feel the loneliness of the long distance Leader. When I set out, as the big waves rolled in, I had the rock of the support of my dear wife Judy; and she’s still here. We also have assistance from our predecessors. I had help from Bob Seabrook, Tony Hidden, my oldest friend who, sadly, as you have heard cannot be here tonight, and most immediately of all, from Michael Wright. After that first dinner 17 years ago he came up to me and said in a kind and loving way, “David the last person to get a standing ovation at this dinner was Danny Brabin; and he died 4 weeks later.” Michael, I am so sorry to have been a continuing disappointment to you. On the other hand, it is quite possible that you won’t have to hang on for too much longer. In any event, your advice is a great encouragement to brevity.

I was of course succeeded as Leader by history in the making, the first Leaderene of the South Eastern Circuit, plain old Heather Hallett, as she then was. She followed me as Leader; she followed me as Chairman of the Bar; she followed me as a Puisne after I had the pleasure of trying her last case. I led and she followed, until a moment not so long ago when, in the twinkling of an eye, without so much as a ‘How’s Your Father’, she overtook me at speed. Now, there she sits: the Right Honourable Dame in the middle, dishing it out. Complex, high grade, extempore judgments as if she had been doing it for years. And, on the wing, I sit there lost in admiration and wonderment, thinking to myself, “It just isn’t fair.”

Mr. Leader Lawson, known to the in-crowd as “Whispering Mike”, having enjoyed a successful time as Leader, took the shilling and went off to Maidstone. His recent transfer to Lewes, the Circuit magazine tells us, has broken the hearts of many in Kent. And so the luxurious green pastures of Lewes welcome Michael. He is making new friends but after just a few months there, he is still looking forward to meeting His Honour Judge Coltart. He has come to the tentative conclusion that Simon Coltart must work nights because he never seems to be there during the day. Michael should be reassured by the well established and ancient Lewes tradition of superbly well kept judicial gardens which complement the excellence of the adjacent green pastures.

Stephen Hockman – or Hockperson, as good gender neutral practice now requires him to be – worked hard for the Circuit and is now in some danger of becoming a media personality. He too went on from the Leadership to the Chairmanship of the Bar and was lucky enough (as he himself put it) to have the challenge both of Carter and Clementi during his year. One of the directories describes him as, “Keeping a firm hand on the tiller,” though it doesn’t actually identify the girl concerned (sorry, that’s a joke for the over 50s). It goes on to describe him as having an acute perception of the mind of the court. That makes the profound and probably unwarranted assumption both that the court has a mind and if it does, that the mind is capable of being made up.

Dazzling Dutton was another to follow the well worn path from Leader to Chairman. His services to advocacy training are enduring and unequalled. He worked tirelessly for Circuit and Bar. Indeed, his expenditure of energy became in itself a major threat to the worldwide carbon footprint movement and has prompted Hockperson to call for an international environmental court.

And so to Spens: calm, well prepared, full of aplomb, dedicated, industrious. It’s quite hard to find a good word to say about the fellow. But he does have a marvellous sense of fun; something I have witnessed in the shady courtyard of the beautiful Lisbon hotel where we met on a very jolly Circuit trip. I think it only fair to add that the general sense of fun was heightened by the attempts of the Circuit to reduce the size of the European wine lake. Enjoying that trip and assisting in that effort were yet another notable ex-Leader and his wife, John and Patsy Alliott, who added a dash of elegance and style to our otherwise somewhat motley crew. Well, we all need moments of relaxation but seriously: why are these good men and women prepared to work their guts out for the Circuit and the Bar? It’s actually, ladies and gentlemen, because of you. There was a time when you wanted to be a barrister. Perhaps you still do.

So you do your LLB and you scrape the BVC
You spurn the CPS and join the CBA
Or if civil you’re inclined to, it’s PIBA, still OK
You keep smiling at the LSB and watch the BSB
And at last you’re off to court in the hope that there’s a fee
If it’s OCOF (that’s ‘one case one fee’) it may just pay your way
But with VHCC cases, it could well be sweet FA
You size up your opponent, who’s a proper HCA
You humour the old boy in purple, he’s an HHJ
You tolerate the client, who’s a first class SH one
And after it’s all over, you’re well and truly done
But cut and thrust for year on year is good for you, you see
‘Cos if you keep it up, you’ll wow the JAC
And you might even get Lewes
Where there’s honey still for tea.

Why oh why do we do it? Forget the honey. It’s because it matters. People matter. For those people, you matter. And so, whether it’s the new recruit going off to Thames Magistrates, you going off to Snaresbrook, or Norwich, or Croydon, or the Bailey, or the County Court, or the High Court or, further afield, in the Hague, in death row cases across the Atlantic, maybe in the ICC or working for justice in countries where there is none through organisations like the Burma Justice Committee or the new African Court of Justice and Human Rights, or travelling to Russia, China, South America, Mexico, countries looking to set up independent courts and fair trial systems. It’s because it matters. A group of us has been in Mexico several summers, showing how our criminal justice system works and putting on a mock murder trial. Some of you have heard me speak before about a marvellous man we met called Pedro Aragonez who was pioneering forensic science services in one of the Mexican states. Some months ago sitting in his car at traffic lights with his 16 year old son he was gunned down by hit men from one of the drugs cartels who felt he was in their way. He died for the rule of law. Despite Michael Wright, you won’t be required to do that. But when you get your peanuts cheque or sometimes, nothing at all, take consolation from the importance of the job you are doing. At a time when faith in some of our institutions has descended to levels of farce, our democracy and the rule of law can do with plenty of the highest integrity, resolution and fearlessness. My old grammar school song spelt it out in the anachronistic language of Empire but with sentiments that are perhaps timeless:

Stick it out, the need is on you
Days to come depend upon you
And the torch is in your keeping
All the way

Ladies and gentlemen, even if you’re a member of the CRAFT club (I can’t remember what CRAFT stands for now because I can’t remember an effing thing... Oh yes; that’s what it stands for...) just remember please, even when you feel battered, beaten and rock bottom, those two words: It matters.