Mark Cannon QC, who died on 22 January 2022, grew up in Chislehurst, Kent. Mark read Modern History at Lincoln College, Oxford, followed by Law at Robinson College, Cambridge, and was Called to the Bar in 1985. He joined chambers at what was then 2 Crown Office Row (now 4 New Square) as a third-six pupil to John Powell QC. He became a leading junior in construction law, professional negligence litigation and insurance law. By the time Mark took silk in 2008, he had contributed to several chapters of Jackson and Powell on Professional Negligence (now Professional Liability) and was one of three general editors of its latest edition. In 2010, he co-authored an important monograph on Professional Indemnity Insurance. He was an exceptional chair of the Professional Negligence Bar Association between 2009 and 2011. Mark became Head of Chambers in 2017, a role he enjoyed and carried out with wisdom, practical common sense, integrity, and distinction. He was elected as a Bencher in 2018 and was a regular at Inn dinners and events.
I am very grateful to Mark’s sister Margaret, his old schoolfriend Jonathan and his friend and chambers colleague Paul Parker for allowing me to share some of their thoughts and stories.
Mark was a tough and always fair court-room opponent, and an excellent advocate; his cross-examination was legendary, and his intellect was huge, although he was typically modest about it – Margaret tells of how at the Buckingham Palace Garden Party after he took silk, they were chatting to someone who had done amazing things for charity, and Mark said, ‘All I’ve done to get here is to be quite good at my job’. Mark built a thriving first instance and appellate practice, particularly in construction and insurance. He was sitting as an arbitrator shortly before he died.
Mark was immensely generous with his time, never turning away any request for ‘just five minutes’. The chaotic state of his room was a contrast to the organised way in which he dispensed advice, retrieving from the back of his mind (or sometimes from a pile of law reports) exactly the case on point. One of the great pleasures of working with Mark was to have a disagreement about a point of law. Decent arguments were regular. Mark was habitually immovable, and some have described him as stubborn, but he was usually right. He was an excellent source of chambers’ memorabilia, retrieving at many an opportune moment that one relevant document from the vast amounts of papers in the drawers of his huge desk, usually to deflate an ego or make an unanswerable point at a meeting.
He often listened to music whilst working, sometimes classical, but more often from the 1970s, and punk music was a favourite (particularly Siouxsie, the Banshees and The Cure). Mark and I discovered we had been at the same Ian Dury concert in 1978, although we didn’t meet until we both joined chambers in 1986. Mark was a talented self-taught piano player, and his 12-bar blues were a regular highlight towards the end of the many parties which he hosted at his house in West London and later on at Brinshope, his home in Herefordshire. The breadth and depth of Mark’s guest list was astonishing; with friends from prep school, university days and from the Bar, and he was a generous and welcoming host. He was also a founding member of the not-quite-all-of-chambers Christmas Lunch events which began in their early years with 6 of us at El Vino, but were later held at Bucks Club, by which time there were over 30 guests. He put much time and thought into choosing the menus, and the accompanying wines; Mark liked good food and fine wine, and he was a decent cook.
An excellent skier, until recent years Mark organised ski trips (known as ‘Canno Tours’) in various resorts, but it was Argentière in the Courchevel valley where his skiing heart belonged, and for many seasons he rented Chalet Alauda, where he was the best host one could wish for, and a hard task-master on the slopes. He showed great patience with my two young boys when they were learning to ski, and surprisingly little embarrassment at skiing with me or (on one occasion) with a giant inflatable Mr Blobby. ‘Après ski’ was, for Mark, a relative term, with long skiing mornings followed by even longer lunches at a favourite restaurant – asked by a puzzled waiter why he and his friend Major Bill regularly ordered several half-bottles of red, perhaps it wasn’t the wisest thing to point out that a half-bottle was priced at less than half that of a whole bottle; the price went up the next day.
Another passion was travel, particularly to Spain or Italy, where in the company of a travelling companion or two, he would visit churches and museums, posting regularly on social media about where he was and what he was thinking about a particular carving or fresco. As Jonathan aptly puts it, as a British traveller, Mark represented a tradition that can be found in the novels of EM Forster or the travel writing of Evelyn Waugh. He consulted guidebooks, wore sensible walking shoes and never wasted time taking touristic photographs. He was also a prodigious reader, particular of political history, Anthony Trollope and PG Wodehouse. I was on a chambers’ interview panel with Mark when the interviewee dropped a quote which he said was from Trollope’s Barchester Towers; ‘I think you’ll find that’s from The Warden,’ said Mark. It was.
Mark was particularly close to his sister Margaret, his cousin Johanne, and his four godsons. Mark and Margaret’s father, Brian, had died suddenly when Mark was 17, and their mother died in 2004. Mark spent most of lockdown at Brinshope. When diagnosed with cancer in April 2021, he rarely complained, and decided not to let his illness define him. After all, he had been a founding member of The Stoics Dining Club at Oxford. Unable to tour Italy last summer, he posted photos and stories, and delighted us with a virtual tour instead. In August, he moved in with his cousin, Johanne, and her husband, Mark, who provided remarkable care for him during his last few months, throughout which he remained positive and optimistic. He exchanged Christmas and New Year greetings and said he hoped to see us all in person soon.
Mark was a gifted barrister who had a deeply loyal professional following. He was a lovely, decent, kind man, generous with his knowledge and his time, clever and funny and warm, and he is irreplaceable as a colleague and as a friend.
