Felix | Charm them into submission

There was great excitement at the Bar recently to find that as a profession we are rated as pretty hot property. A number of chaps have been identified by blog Your Barrister Boyfriend as being worth a second look not so much on their legal skills but based on their all-round "hotness".

Now such magnetic sexual attraction is not without its place in the court room. It is harder to see it lighting a fire over a rather contentious piece of drafting to do with a dry-shipping claim, although of course it may be that a wet-shipping claim may set the pulses racing. I for one have never quite understood the difference between the wet claims and the dry claims, having found both of them rather, well, dry, to be honest. But perhaps I have been missing something in all of that. Even so, it is hard to imagine getting flustered over charter-parties, bills of lading and exclusion clauses.

However, the Crown Court - where of course all human love, life, passion, drama and implausibility holds sway is a rather different matter. There are a number amongst us who are, quite honestly, up for a bit playing the devilishly charming card to the jury. Not for nothing do we find, among our sober dress, the rather startling lining to the suit jacket. Not for nothing do we find the affectation of multi-coloured or brightly coloured socks. Don't tell me that such expense has been expended simply because of a wardrobe crisis or that there was nothing else going on at the tailors. Those fancy linings will set a chap back a brief or two, trust me.

Love in a law climate

Some on the other hand are downright shabby. There are wing collars that are not so much white but yellow, there are the bands that have marmalade and tomato ketchup stains on them, there are suit trousers that have such shiny bottoms they could be a mirror. There are trousers that barely stay up, there are sticking out stomachs with straining buttons, there are suits with coffee stains on them and gowns that look like they have had a close encounter with a shredder. Up against this lot the sharp dressed man is out on his own.

And it has not been unknown for the odd admiring jury to fall for the odd, admirable, silver-tongued counsel. Nor has it been, I am told, unheard of for the odd defendant to ?fall for his or her brief. I was once told of a rather lovely female barrister who fell in ?love with her bank-robber client and after the trial - which must have ended happily or else the next bit would have been tricky to arrange to say the least - they ran off together. I don't know if that really happened, but I hope it did.

Then of course up there on the bench their honours - the judiciary - are not above a little charm when it comes to the jury. A long time ago now I remember a silk sitting as a recorder in a multi-handed case. He was just charm itself - it was like having Desmond Lynam in his pomp as the judge. Every morning there was a rather conspiratorial "Good morning, members of the jury" as they came in. The jury loved it - "Good morning, your honour" they all chorused back - the ladies louder than the men, it ?was observed.

Our judge

All of this taught me a golden rule: "When the jury are in love with the judge - don't p*** off the judge." Elementary really - but lost on counsel for the second defendant who decided that it would be a good idea to pick a fight, several in fact, with the judge. Various withering put-downs went flying counsel's way but he did not get it. He seemed intent on a collision course with the charming, dashing, lovely, polite and so well-mannered blue-eyed judge with the silky voice who charmed the jury. At one point hapless counsel was told that it would be helpful to listen to the answers that the witness gave to counsel's own questions. The jury loved that. And when defence counsel mounted his high horse in high dudgeon back at some other stage the jury looked at the defence barrister with a mixture of pity and contempt - and loathing. "How dare ?he speak to our judge like that. The idiot," you could see them all clearly thinking. ?The final "rolling over please tickle our tummies" moment came when at four o'clock the judge swivelled his chair and direction towards them and said, "Well members of the jury, it's been a long day, shall we say ten thirty tomorrow?" Honestly, I think they wanted to have his babies at that point. The rest of us were busy being sick. But moral of the tale - we all got off, except for the second defendant.

So it just goes to show, that just as in every other walk of life - except perhaps charter parties and boundary wall disputes - oh, and I suppose contested probate cases where at least one party is in fact dead - being a bit of a looker and a bit of a charmer can seriously help your cause.

In my youth I rather thought it funny that someone could actually fancy the judge. But not so long ago, during a conversation about how police officers now seemed to look about 12 years old, we moved on to how young the judges were looking these days. Friend piped up that it was not so much noticing how young the judiciary have become, it is more when you start to fancy them that you really know you're old.

So, members of the jury, much as we charm you, flatter you and commiserate with your long absences from the court room, appeal to your common sense and wisdom, invoke the burden of proof and trust you with one of the biggest decisions of your life, don't assume that rather sexy suit lining is all for your benefit. It might just be someone else's eye we are all trying to catch.

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