October 2021. It’s the first month of my Bar Course, and I’m at the Reader’s Feast in Middle Temple Hall. I am wearing heels, which is a mistake. I am already 5’10 and have incidentally ended up talking to the shortest people in the room. In trying to channel my inner Duchess of Cambridge… I have ended up looking like the BFG – but never mind. Onwards. I am talking to a barrister who specialises in data law. He had come up and introduced himself cheerily, stating that he was going round chatting to all the students. I wonder what it is about me that screams student, but I am grateful for his company. Quite apart from the fact I am towering over this poor man, I know next to nothing about data law, aside from the usual grumbles about GDPR. He kindly explains, and it turns out data law isn’t as boring as it sounds (promise).
The evening continues, and I soon forget about my giant stature and crumpled toes. I go on to chat to another Bar student who used to work for an MP, and another who sells clerical garments part time. At dinner, I sit opposite a retired barrister, and we discuss his work in the Hague as defence counsel at the Yugoslavian War Crimes Tribunal. I (rather bizarrely) encounter a fellow midwife, who currently advises film producers on medical scenes. I fleetingly glimpse John Major but fear I may have less to say to him than the data law barrister. In a haze of good food and wine, I joke and laugh with barristers, students, and many others. The evening flies by. My Yugoslavian War Crimes friend sits up during dessert and states, ‘I’m usually in bed by now, but I do like to stay for the Port’. I look at my watch: it’s 21:00. What a champ.
Prior to this evening, I had only attended Qualifying Sessions online. In the hangover of lockdown life, Middle Temple had retained many online sessions and were offering several ‘hybrid’ sessions. Like many during the pandemic, I had become accustomed to online learning. My GDL year oscillated between online and in-person, masks, and no-masks. Suffering from the effects of my Covid-19 vaccination (my housemate cheerily commented that she had ‘never seen someone look so awful’), I still managed to log on to my online classes, weakly contributing through a daze of fever and rigors. By the time I reached the Bar Course, restrictions were starting to lift, but online options were retained. I never met my dissertation supervisor in person, because why commute for a conversation when you can have it in the comfort of your own home?
I don’t mind this. There are lots of advantages to online learning. The cost, for one thing: online Qualifying Sessions at Middle Temple are usually about £5, as opposed to dining in Hall, which varies from £15 to £50. Travel to the Inn may also be costly, which is only compounded for students outside of London. Comfort and convenience are also factors – we all know and love the feeling of pairing a suit jacket with pyjama bottoms, or momentarily pausing your video to snaffle down some mid-zoom snacks. Often, there’s just nothing like your own home and a cuppa. In the immortal words of DJ Jazzy Jeff, ‘Ain’t no place like home’.
While online sessions are great, they simply cannot give you everything. When you are at the Inn, rubbing shoulders with barristers and judges, you get a real sense of history and place. For an evening, you aren’t a Bar student toiling in the trenches of litigation exams, you are a member of a profession. If you haven’t dined in Hall yet, prepare yourself for a bit of pomp and ceremony – some processing, standing, and a smattering of Latin – but far from being alienating, I think this all adds to the sense that you’re part of something. During that one evening, I met barristers from all walks of life, all genuinely interested in my path to law and my ambitions, eager to share their own experiences and wisdom. You are bound by shared food, shared wine, and a common interest.
This kind of connection is not the type that can be experienced or practised in the comfort of one’s own home. It is only through sitting and eating with people, the most ancient and human ritual, that you have the time and opportunity to listen, understand, and learn from people who are 20, 30, 50 years down the road from you. It’s wonderful. If you can, do it. The people I met were brilliant – sometimes intimidating, but always kind. The food is also pretty good – rumour has it that it’s the best of the Inns, and I’ve experienced nothing to the contrary. All in all, I’d say it was 15 quid well spent.
Alex studied Theology at the University of Oxford before going on to qualify and work as a midwife in London. She has just completed her BPC, having received a Queen Mother Scholarship from Middle Temple. She is due to commence pupillage at 4 Paper Buildings in October 2022.
