Life as a Criminal Pupil Barrister – On My Feet
I’m now just over halfway through my second six in pupillage.
In a matter of months, I’ve gone from observing my supervisor, watching him glide through cases without appearing to break stride, to representing clients myself across an array of matters, from the Youth Court to the Crown Court.
The transition from observer to advocate in this arena is almost impossible to articulate.
Watching your supervising barrister operate at such a high level can lull you into a false sense of security. It’s only when you walk into court alone, papers in hand, that the reality truly lands. Those first weeks on my feet were a blur: adrenaline, coffee, nerves (more nerves), moments of euphoria, a healthy serving of humble pie, and an unexpectedly intimate knowledge of the nation’s motorways.
The old adage is true — nothing quite prepares you for being on your feet.
At the start, no matter how late I stayed up preparing, I felt underprepared. Every possible scenario played out in my head the night before court. But experience is a powerful teacher. Over time, preparation became sharper and more focused. I learned what matters. I stopped catastrophising about every conceivable twist and instead began to trust the work I’d done.
And when I started backing myself, outcomes began to reflect that belief.
This is a challenging vocation. I’ve had a client offer to fight me moments after we met. I’ve seen another repeatedly hit their head against a wall. I’ve heard threats directed at everyone in court apart from, rather touchingly, me.
But there is no greater professional feeling than breaking through to a challenging client on a human level. Going from hostility to trust within the space of an hour. From confrontation to tears and gratitude. Few careers offer such an intense, humbling, and deeply human rollercoaster.
If I had one piece of advice for anyone about to start on their feet, it would be this:
Lean on the collegiate spirit of the Criminal Bar.
Early on, a barrister told me that as a pupil he once faced a question he couldn’t answer. Within seconds, five silks in the robing room were researching the point and offering guidance. I’m glad to say my experience has mirrored that story. Whether in chambers or robing rooms across the country, I’ve found generosity with time and knowledge in abundance — even well past midnight when a tricky issue needs unpicking.
Never be afraid to ask. People genuinely want you to succeed.
And above all — enjoy it.
This isn’t just a job. It’s a privilege.
