Nosiness: Sitting in the Public Gallery

Some of us have never entered a courtroom; this, for many, is considered to be a good thing. However for the aspiring barrister, it seems a little silly to decide to pursue a career at the Bar having never entered the place where much of your career will pan out. The obvious danger here is that one might have what is, unfortunately, a common misconception of what a day in court entails. This common misconception usually has the characters that you would expect: judge, jury, defendant, witnesses, clerks etc. In this particular misconception the defendant, upon assuming the stand, begins to give his account in the elevated medium of popular song. Suddenly the jury, overcome with what appears to be a surprising amount of glee for a bleak looking crown court, begins to sing and freestyle dance; the witnesses, too, sing along and even the judge is taken by the occasion. A rising string section accompanies the brittle tenor of the 'gritty' looking defendant who, it turns out, is known by the name of 'Plan B' and is in court, presumably, for crimes against soul, pop, the misrepresentation of a Crown Court, and, in that misrepresentation, his creation of a whole generation of would-be lawyers who think that the most important thing one needs for a successful career is a handful of bad rhymes and a basic sense of rhythm.

Though, forgive me, I am told by people 'in the know' that Plan B's ballad 'She Said' and his accompanying video is a searing exploration of the degeneration of the heterosexual ideal.

But there is some method in this madness: embarking on legal studies is not sensible if you have not had a previous foray into musical theatre, sorry, court. One can have, thanks to any number of sources, an incorrect impression of what court entails. Thankfully, first hand experience of court is perfectly possible without having to go about finding a mini-pupillage. Courts are open to the public and you can sit in on trials and see for yourself.

You can, technically, sit in on cases the House of Lords, Court of Appeal, High Court of Justice and County Courts and watch; but doing so is tricky. Cases will often be closed to the public and you must be organised and check the relevant websites for information. The Magistrates' and Crown Courts are much simpler; in fact, all you have to do is turn up.

It doesn't matter, as Jagger would say, what clothes you wear, just as long as you are there. Unlike mini-pupillage there is no need for formal dress. Although, perhaps, your PVC catsuit would not be appropriate. Once inside you will be greeted by a friendly, or not so friendly, person in a security uniform who will ask you to place your bag and anything metal that might set an alarm off on a table. There will then be an embarrassing moment when the security person looks inside your bag. They then, providing you haven't tried to smuggle in a video camera and tripod (no recording equipment allowed), will ask you to walk through a detector. Once through, you will be directed to the usher at reception where you will say soemthing along the lines of 'I am a student and want to watch a case'. You are then pointed towards the appropriate court.

It is that easy.

You can then mention that you have gone to the trouble of nosing around, I mean seeing, the inside of a courtroom in law school/university applications, mini-pupillage applications, and at interviews.

You will also have some idea of whether a career at the Bar is for you.

But you will also, and most importantly, draw the conclusion that successful advocacy does not depend on a aptitude for doggerel, nor for the elevated couplets that our gritty troubadour, Plan B, is so skilled in.