Another year; another Law Week. Another five days of lawyers appearing in libraries, drafting free wills and competing with sausage sizzles for the attention of a public seemingly more interested in the odd snag than quality legal information.
This year, I thought it was time someone spared a thought for the lawyers: overworked, underpaid, and with only the Law Society to protect us.
So, on the opening day of Law Week, I went to the Law Week Expo in Parramatta, to collect signatures for a petition. It read:
To the Fair Work Commission:
A Petition of the citizens of the Commonwealth of Australia.
We bring to the attention of the Fair Work Commission that the legal profession has been overworked and underpaid for far too long. It is a myth that lawyers do well. Most lawyers do no good at all.
It is time to bring this unbalanced profession back into balance by the introduction of an Award for Lawyers.
We the undersigned petitioners ask the Fair Work Commission to introduce an Award for Lawyers with the following minimum conditions:
– maximum 40 hours work per week
– minimum salary of $70,000 per annum (plus super) after first two years of practice
– no open plan offices
– at least one secretary for every two lawyers
– at least an hour for lunch every day (and an hour and a half on Fridays).
I had agonised about the demands – especially the minimum salary. I thought $70K per annum was believable (just), yet high enough to raise the ire of Law Week’s usual exponents: the underpaid staff of NGOs and government departments.
Huddling in booths, they were distributing brochures, fridge magnets and pens to passersby, and each other. I approached the nearest booth, seeking a lawyer.
“Hi,” I said. “Would you happen to be a lawyer, by any chance?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“No, it’s okay actually …”
“I’m collecting signatures for a petition: minimum pay and conditions for lawyers.”
“Yep, hand it over.”
Without so much as a skim-read, she signed.
The next lawyer I unearthed did the same, as did the next. Even the non-lawyers were blindly sympathetic.
“I work in admin,” said someone with a most informative fridge magnet. “Even I get paid more than the lawyers. And you wouldn’t believe their workload.”
“Maybe they manage it by not reading a thing.”
The police gave my petition a moment’s consideration. But then they rejected it outright. Not because they read it, of course.
“Can’t sign in uniform,” they said. “Could be viewed as a conflict of interest. Now, please excuse us …”
They went back to posing by their new police car: a Porsche Panamera with NSW Police badging. A loaner from Porsche, they explained.
I even canvassed the public, but lacking a fridge magnet, or sausage, or Porsche, I struggled to capture attention. Again, a few signed, but nobody read my petition.
Despite all my hard work in carefully framing the petition, the only person who actually read the thing was a young lawyer from the Guardianship Tribunal.
“… open plan offices,” she said, considering my list of demands.
“How is one supposed to get any work done?” I said. “Let alone do office politics?”
“Coffee,” she said. “You go out for coffee. Now, do you promise my name won’t appear anywhere if I sign this.”
I promised. She signed. And this young lawyer – to remain nameless – deserves to be lauded as the only person I encountered at the Law Week Expo with the sense to read what they sign.
Guardianship Tribunal, you should hang on to that one.