I began this post on the flight back to Melbourne as I watched the lights of the New South Wales coast slip by beneath me.
I was on my feet at 0715 on the second day in Sydney. I made up a cup of coffee as I dressed and got my suitcase packed. The cab from Silkari to Kirribilli Club (where the offsite meting was to be held) was lined up for 0815. I made my way downstairs and was delighted to see two of my colleagues, one of whom was up from Melbourne and the other from Canberra.
The venue was almost in the shadow of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and part of it looked out over the bay. It was, truly, stunning. The sessions were very much worth attending, but I don’t suppose they’ll be of much interest to a general readership. It’s enough to say the business looks like it’ll develop in some really interesting ways in the next few months.
Sydney Harbour Bridge
The team is a good one – friendly, clever and accomplished. It was great to catch up with them socially for a few drinks after the day’s work activities were completed. I caught a cab from the venue to the airport (right over the Harbour Bridge, which I got a kick out of – it’s the little things!). I was back in my digs in Melbourne about 0200.
I woke up on the first morning in Sydney feeling much better than I should have done after a fairly late night. In case I didn’t mention it, the accommodation was at Silkari Suites in Chatswood, a suburb which looked like a tightly-packed version of Malvern. I was on my feet a little before 0800. I got a clean suit on and grabbed a complimentary coffee from the cart downstairs.
It took me a little while (and a trip to google maps) to navigate from Silkari to LexisNexis’ offices, and a little longer again to remember that I needed to get to the reception on the first floor to get a day pass for the building. This is what happens when you get very very used to working from home! The offices are on one of the upper floors and it felt good to have windows with a view. I found my way to the desk I’d booked and set to dealing with emails and a few odds and ends of work from both of my jobs. About mid-morning I had a very productive face to face meeting with my boss (the first time I’d met her in three dimensions – which is an interesting commentary on what the pandemic has done to everyone’s working habits!).
Chatswood, NSW, Australia
I had to attend remotely a mediation for the other job in the afternoon and so I stepped out for some sushi while I had a chance. I’d briefed John Richards QC, who put the plaintiff’s case robustly and adeptly. Sadly, the matter didn’t settle. It was a bit hard to focus my mind after the mediation, but I was able to attended to some preparation for the next day.
I called it a day at about 1815. I picked up some groceries for dinner and decided to go for a run down to the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I’ll talk about that over on my running blog. It’s probably enough to say that it’s a great city to run in.
Sydney Harbour Bridge and Opera House
I do like Sydney. There’s a novelty, of course, but it’s a lovely city.
In my last post I mentioned that my job with LexisNexis had included a bit of an adventure. This adventure took the form of an off-site meeting.
The company’s main office is in Sydney, and something like half of the team I work in are based up in the Harbour City. The rest of us are scattered around the country and nearly all of our interactions take place through email and video-conferencing. The powers that be decided that there would be value in us all meeting in person and invited us to come up for the said meeting and to work a day or two from the main office in Chatswood. I hadn’t flown anywhere since 2013 save for an SES deployment to Lismore a few years ago and so this seemed like a terrific idea.
I flew up on the Monday of the week of the meeting. I’d spent the day at my legal practice job and hadn’t had time to change. As a result I was flying in a suit, looking like a throwback to another corporate era. I didn’t mind at all.
Like a throwback to the golden age of air travel!
I’ve always loved approaching a city from the air at night. Los Angeles from the air is breathtaking – a carpet of lights as far as the eye can see. Regardless, I was smiling as I saw the lights of Sydney coming up beneath us and humming that song by Paul Kelly. Clive James once criticised people who sneer at air travel. I agree with him. I love the sense of possibility that airports have. I like the food. I like airline coffee.
Sydney by night
We got into Sydney about 2300. The cab ride from the airport to the accommodation took a while because the cabby (like his passenger) had no sense of direction. I spent a couple of hours attending to emails and the like for both jobs. and turned in at about 0300 after a quick shower.
While I’ve been neglecting this blog over the past two years, I’ve had a couple of career developments. The first arose mid-2021. I received a phone call out of the blue asking if I’d be interested in applying for a role as a legal writer with Lexis Nexis?
Yes. Yes I would.
I’m now working for that publisher three days a week as their writer for Personal Injury law in Victoria. The job is great: we’re well resourced and the work is interesting.
There’s been at least one adventure in that line of work so far; I’ll talk about that in my next post.
Taking that job three days a week led to an attempt for me to keep going with practising in personal injury work two days a week. This was less successful: too many files and too little time, alas. Eventually, the boss said he would have to have someone take on my role full time. I couldn’t disagree: the money I could bring in working two days a week certainly wasn’t covering my own wage, let alone making a profit for the firm. So, my work concluded last Friday. If all else fails, I have a sign to wave beside the freeway.
Even lawyers need a backup plan
I shall certainly miss my friends at PR&Co. Good people, doing good work. On the whole, though, I think this is for the best for me. There’s so many new things in this world – so many jobs to explore – that I’m positively looking forward to the new challenge.
I had a matter fixed for hearing yesterday for a nice lady with an injury case. She was quite nervous and so she’d brought three members of her family to the office for the conference pre-hearing. The client and her family are from India originally.
The hearing was to proceed by Zoom, and so we set the client up on a computer in a spare office. As I got everything ready, I was mainly thinking about the half-dozen other things I needed to do so the hearing would proceed smoothly. As I often do when I’m thinking about something else, I was chattering away rather thoughtlessly to avoid an awkward silence. One of the things I had to do was enter the computer login password, which is in part the word “Blackjack”. Without thinking about it I blathered away “so the password is ‘blackjack’ so clearly whoever set it up was either a keen gambler or a fan of the 1960s Country Party, the leader of the party then being called John “Black Jack” McEwen”
The client asked why he was called “Black Jack” and I explained “well, I understand he had dark hair and had quite a dark complexion and …”. It was at this point that I remembered who I was talking to and the fraught ethnic times we’re in and thought in a panic “Oh Lord, I hope they don’t think I was having a go at them!”. I felt my face getting red and I blithered on by saying “and, I understand he favoured dark suits, and he was Prime Minister for a bit too, and … Oh good, we’ve got Zoom up and running!”.
I don’t think the client and her husband were paying much attention to it all, but from the grin on her son’s face he was clearly enjoying watching me trying to dig my way out of the hole I’d dug myself into!
Comic relief can be useful in stressful times; apparently yesterday it was my turn to provide it.
I’m typing this post on the tram home just before midnight. I should feel pretty cranky. At present I’m working flat out and playing catch-up with a number of files. As a result of the sudden departure of a colleague my file load will probably go up by about 30-40%. I left the office tonight at about 11:40pm after settling the memo to counsel for a brief and the index for a court book for a looming worker’s compensation hearing. I don’t expect to be in bed much before 2am. I was hoping to run home from work which, plainly, did not happen.
As I said, I should be cranky. And I’m not. Every day I get to work with a great team of people. I’m doing work that matters, for clients who are genuinely grateful nine times in ten. The puzzles thrown up by the files are challenging and use every bit of my skill and knowledge as a lawyer.
How good is it? If I won the lottery on Saturday I’d still show up for work on Monday morning.
Over the years I haven’t had much trouble with work bumping into my private life. Oddly though, it did happen last night. While I was from the tram stop a black car pulled up beside me with four young men in it.
One of them leaned out and asked “how’re you going?” expectantly. I replied “good” and then “do I know you?”.
“Yeah! you appeared for me in Melbourne Children’s Court”
I was a little puzzled at this. I’ve appeared in a lot of courts but never in the children’s court. All I could reply was “oh; okay”. He asked “It’s Stephen isn’t it?”
“Yeah, that’s me” I said. They laughed and drove off.
I spent the evening trying to figure out who it could have been without success. Presumably it was someone I did act for at one time or another, Children’s Court or not. I can’t fathom what it might have been about though. Crimes compensation perhaps?
I suppose I must have done a decent job since he didn’t throw anything at me!
The longer the Covid-19 situation goes on, the more I find myself affected in ways I did not expect. My own contact with the disease is, as best I know, minimal: friends of friends of friends may have been infected, but that’s all. What I’m noticing however is a kind of “plague malaise” affecting me at work.
Some of this malaise is simple change of routine: checking the news far more than I usually would and not going out at lunch hour unless I particularly have to. And there’s probably a degree of lassitude after a scorchingly busy couple of months. But I think what’s also affecting me is the constant sense that things might change at the drop of a hat. Will movement restrictions suddenly come in so that I can’t leave Melbourne for Shepparton? Will the city be placed in lockdown, obliging all of us to work from home whether its practical or not? Will we enter a harsh economic downturn? And – kind of important – will people begin dying in quantity?
The reason I mention this is that I’m wondering if other people in the law are having the same experiences. These are the things I’m especially noticing –
Firstly, I’m struggling to get work done. Every task seems to take twice as long as it would normally. But despite this feeling of my brain being less sharp, I seem more reactive in other ways: today I had to write something involving a police Superintendent; a certain Simpsons reference made me laugh like a drain.
Sometimes I have to make a conscious effort to smile and not to bite the heads off of my co-workers, despite them being people I like and and whose friendship I value.
I find I’m getting more and more “dark”. Usually my thinking music at work is “Rhapsody in Blue”. Currently it’s Saint-Saëns “Danse Macabre”.
Thinking in a sustained way is a challenge. This morning I was trying to read this article on the illegality defence in tort law, and the decision of the High Court in Smith v Commonwealth Oil Refineries Ltd (1938) 60 CLR 141, both of which are relevant to cases I’m handling. Each is fairly straightforward, although if you watched me knot my forehead up trying to make sense of them you wouldn’t necessarily know that.
Finally, I’m much more indecisive than I usually am. Last night I was looking over a possible claim for a fellow whose claim is out of time. I know the case is a dead duck. Even if on paper it might be possible to finesse a win, I know it’s a pointless exercise. But could I make up my mind to so advise him? Nope. I dictated two-thirds of a rambling, indecisive letter of advice before I gave it up as a bad job.
Now, I don’t think I’m cracking up. I certainly don’t think I’m at the end of my road as a lawyer! But I think the current conditions are taking more of a toll on me than I thought they were. And that has me thinking: has the pandemic had an impact on you, despite not being directly affected by the Covid-19 virus? If it has, how?
The most relentless buzzword in legal practice seems to be “wellness”. Jeena Cho writes an interesting column on the subject for the ABA Journal. Stress management is the source of quite a large number of articles. Lawyers Weekly recently ran a story with guidelines on establishing resilience covering –
1. Engage with family and friends. Take the time to maintain healthy and emotionally stimulating relationships outside of work and explore ways to connect with people in meaningful ways. For example, go for a nice walk after work or eat a meal with friends or family as often as possible. 2. Get into a structured sleep habit. Aim for seven to eight hours a night and wake up at the same time every morning (even on the weekend). …. 3. Divide your day into segments. Allocate time for certain work tasks, time to move your body and time for mental breaks. 4. Find a way to be active every day. …. Just 30 minutes a day can work wonders for your brain and increase your resilience long-term. 5. When in doubt, breathe out. ….
This sounds great, although it’s impractical when your workday looks like this –
Anyway, this left me wondering what I recommend in the way of stress management based on a career which has not been uneventful.
Don’t Panic
This is a biggy. One of the sagest bits of advice I ever received was from my friend Pam, who in turn got it from a veteran CFA Captain:
When you turn up at a bushfire, the first thing you should do when you get out of the truck is lean on the bullbar and have a cigarette.
It makes sense, right? The five minutes you take for a cancer-stick won’t make much of a difference and you’ll calm yourself down, appraise the situation and react to it calmly. In the world of law this translates to: your opponent’s sent you an email refusing to agree to a vital adjournment? Go and make a cup of tea, then come back and look at how you’ll respond to the unco-operative bastard.
You Can Fix It
It’s easy to forget, but just about every misstep in litigation can be fixed. The only ones that can’t be repaired are missing a statute-of-limitations date or (in my jurisdiction) missing a step in the workers compensation serious injury/common law field. Virtually every other glitch can be fixed. It may be expensive and embarrassing but it can be fixed.
Speak Without Thinking
This one is counter-intuitive. Let me explain. You can never show weakness or indecision and so your first response to a challenge must be to return fire. So, if you’re on the phone to your opponent and they’re telling you how rubbish your case is, you should have a stock set of phrases to commence any reply. First, hearing your own voice say something tends to persuade you it’s true. Second, the brain has a remarkable ability to come up with something that will back up you initial statement. Some of my usual phrases are –
Well, I’m afraid I don’t see it that way.
I can’t imagine a jury will agree with you.
I must say, that’s not my understanding of the law.
I don’t think that position is sound.
That’s a curious line of argument.
Well, if the defendant wants to take that position, that’s a matter for you.
If all else fails, you can finish with “It’ll be interesting to see what the Court makes of it”.
Have a Rag Bag
Litigators should have an intellectual rag bag they can rummage through for ideas. The only way to acquire this valuable resource is utterly chaotic reading about the law. Read decisions from random jurisdictions, like the All India Reporter – Rangoon or the Supreme Court of Latvia. Flip through any lawyers’ magazine or law journal that crosses your path.
It’s astonishing you can use an intellectual tool you gather from them. In no time at all you’ll feel like you can deal with any problem that the law throws your way.
Prepare a Strategy
If service with SES has taught me anything, it’s how to prepare a SMEACS briefing. These briefings are an ideal way to organise your thoughts and plan your way to a win. They’re incredibly helpful if you’re worried about a file and you can pick it it up and see exactly what you planned to do next. The acronym stands for
S = Situation: What are the client’s injuries? When was the accident? What is standing in the way of them getting some money?
M = Mission: What are you trying to achieve? Do you want to bring the matter on as a priority? DO you want to win (one assumes so)? Do you need to extend time?
E = Execution: What precise steps need to be accomplished to get you to that point? What medical reports are needed, and who from? Do you need a site inspection? Should counsel be booked? This will usually be the longest piece of the note.
A = Administration: Are there interlocutory deadlines to be met? Do you need to allocate particular jobs to someone else (for example, preparing a Court Book?).
C = Communications: Do you need to update your boss? Are you dealing with your opponent’s Sydney office rather than their Melbourne office? Do you need to include a notice under the Service and Execution of Process Act 1992 because you’re suing an interstate defendant?
S = Safety: What is going to trip you up? Does the client need a Tigrinya interpreter for their medical examinations? Are they volatile and inclined to pick fights with doctors? Do you have a looming limitations date?
Preparing one of these briefings can take anything from 45 minutes to a couple of hours but (and trust me on this) it will save you a mind-boggling amount of time in the long run.
∞
So there you have it: my two-cents worth on the subject of stress management for litigators. What tactics do you recommend?
Stephen the Lawyer 