Come join the magic, declares new leader of Criminal Bar Association
Tana Adkin KC overcame a number of hurdles just to take silk, she tells Catherine Baksi
Criminal defence barristers were this time last year two weeks into an indefinite strike in a row with ministers over legal aid fees.
A government-commissioned review of criminal legal aid by Lord Bellamy – who is now a justice minister – recommended an immediate 15 per cent increase to fees for barristers and solicitors, as the “minimum necessary as the first step in nursing the system of criminal legal aid back to health after years of neglect”.
But the then justice secretary, Dominic Raab, refused to implement the recommendations fully. He limited the 15 per cent increase to new cases starting from the end of last September, so the higher fees would not apply to the backlog of 60,000-plus crown court cases, meaning that it would be months or years before barristers’ benefitted from the rise.
Criminal barristers were already reeling from the impact of the pandemic, which halted all crown court trials for almost two months. That left the advocates without income and compounding the financial struggles of many juniors who were leaving in droves. The mood was angry and the Criminal Bar Association predicted that many more would leave for better paid work.
Twelve months on, Tana Adkin KC, who took over the leadership of the Criminal Bar Association this month, finds herself at the helm in calmer times.
In his brief stint as justice secretary, Brandon Lewis KC agreed to back-date the fee increase and the courts’ drive to tackle the backlog of cases, which in the crown court has now reached a record high of 64,000, means there is no shortage of work for those barristers still standing.
After the turbulence of the past 18 months, “the mood of the criminal bar is settling,” says Adkin, who feels a “positivity” and “determination to get cases on, address the backlog and deliver justice”.
The attitude of the “resilient body of men and women who are working all hours to get through as many cases as possible and dealing with the highest backlog, is hold on to your wigs and keep going,” says Adkin.
But, increased workload is piling pressure on barristers, who are dealing with more cases, often involving greater volumes of digital and other evidence. Anxiety results from courts listing more cases than can be heard, and Adkin warns that burnout is a real problem, forcing some barristers to leave.
Low fees are still an issue, particularly in those rape cases where complainants pre-record their evidence months or years in advance of trials, and in other cases that are adjourned after barristers have spent hours preparing them.
The fee increase for defence barristers, adds Adkin, has resulted in a disparity in pay for prosecution work, which has left a shortage of barristers willing to do it, particularly in rape and other sexual offence cases. It is a gap that the Crown Prosecution Service is temporarily filling by instructing King’s Counsel.
Proposals to allow legal executives to appear as advocates in crown courts concern Adkin – not because the Bar fears competition, she insists, but because of the risk to quality standards. Highly trained, specialist barristers provide the “gold standard of advocacy”, says Adkin. Her message to legal executives wanting to work as crown court advocates is “come to the Bar” and undergo the same level of training as barristers.
Adkin, 54, was called in 1992 and took silk in 2017. She did not come from a legal background – her father was an analytical chemist and her mother looked after the family before starting a business selling electrical equipment.
The oldest of three girls, growing up in Penge in southeast London,
Adkin attended an all girls Catholic state school. Watching the television series Crown Court got her hooked on becoming a barrister from the age of nine, which gave her focus and determination.
Her paternal grandparents became the gardener and cleaner for a judge living in south Croydon. In the holidays Adkin would accompany them to his house, where the judge talked to her about the law. Thanks to his advice to study a subject that she loved rather than law, Adkin plumped for history at Leicester University and became a student member of Inner Temple. She went on to win scholarships to help pay for her studies.
Pregnant with her first of five children, Adkin was not taken on as a tenant at the end of her pupillage. That rejection was a blow, with Adkin saying that it felt like it was the end of her career.
Adkin is now at 15NBS chambers in the Temple – and in contrast to her earlier rejection, taking silk at the ceremony in Westminster Hall “with all my five children, husband and parents was a great day – a huge relief and cause for celebration”. That put an end to the “imposter syndrome” she had experienced earlier.
Sharing the achievement with her family was important because without their support and understanding that “my work always came first”, she says she could have done it.
Since Adkin joined the Bar, the number of women has risen, particularly in crime, giving her a sense of belonging and camaraderie. “When you look around you see all these other women – and women of colour – reflecting the society you come from, you feel at home.”
Adkin’s enthusiasm is palpable. “As Lord Bingham [a former lord chief justice] once said: ‘Go to the Bar, that’s where the magic is’. He was absolutely right. I’d encourage anyone to come.”
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