Report of Pegasus Scholar Jeremy T. Powers 2010 Pegasus Scholar to the United Kingdom Imagine meeting a long lost relative—a brother, father, or cousin. Imagine someone older than you, with whom you share those closest of genetic and familial links—someone of whom you’ve been told for years, yet have never before met, or don’t remember. What would you know of him, before your meeting? You may have read things he had written—his journal, letters, random musings on general topics or recorded opinions on more specific ones. You may have read evaluations of him by others—perhaps his colleagues, his neighbors or others who have known him throughout his life, or you may have followed some aspect of his life in the news. You might even have heard stories told by your family, anecdotes of his life and experiences and interactions and responses to various situations or tests of character; you may have even been entertained with some humorous yarns or interesting (and perhaps apocryphal) lore. All of these would of course be filtered through the descriptions and perceptions of others. They may be perfectly valid and reliable descriptions and you could perhaps, with sufficient study, consider yourself to be somewhat expert on this man’s life and character; nevertheless, the picture you would develop in your mind of this long lost relative would be necessarily generated, not experienced. You almost certainly would find, upon meeting and spending time with this man, that you had some of it wrong. You would realize you hadn’t nearly so rich a qualitative feel even for what part of it you had right, until after you had experienced time with him in person. Even if there had been something positively formative in his role toward you in your early childhood, you likely wouldn’t feel it until you had made that human connection and observed it firsthand. You might find that a myriad of subtle similarities would overshadow what you had previously perceived as vast differences. In fact, you might begin to find that a great deal of that which you had considered unique to your own personality, choices, or habits was actually common to you both. From there, you would likely begin to see how different experiences or choices might have shaped you separately, albeit from a common core. The 2010 American Inns of Court Pegasus Scholarship allowed me to experience exactly this opportunity regarding my chosen profession. The American legal traditions that are the basis of my professional training of course have deep roots in those of the United Kingdom. It was fascinating to see many of the ways in which we have developed from this common foundation separately (and sometimes in seemingly opposite directions). I was fortunate to have opportunities to witness firsthand some of the ways in which our separate systems of justice have gone through a convergent evolution, to reach similar goals and results based on the universal human concern for justice. Chambers My particular experience was greatly enhanced by the fact that I had been assigned to chambers (the barristers’ equivalent of American “firms,” though that term in British use seems to apply only to solicitors’ offices) that closely mirrored the areas in which I practice as an Assistant State Attorney in the Fifth Judicial Circuit of Florida. Here in the United States, I practice in criminal prosecution of fraud crimes and economic, regulatory, and environmental offenses under Florida law. The first chambers to which I was assigned, QEB Hollis Whiteman, has a great deal of involvement in exactly these areas, both from a prosecution and defense perspective. This was another area of my legal education in the U.K. that I found intriguing—a barrister may one day be prosecuting a case, and the next may be defending a similar one. In the U.S., this essentially requires a career change between the “sides” of prosecution and defense, and is something many trial attorneys never experience at all. I was happy to find that this ability— and in fact, necessity—of barristers to shift fluently between roles was respected as one that can greatly assist an advocate in developing professionalism and expertise. In advocating for the prosecution on one case, one necessar- ily considers factors that one may use as a transferrable skill to effectively defend on another. It was at QEB Hollis Whiteman (QEB references the Queen Elizabeth Building, which sits just off the Victoria Embankment on the River Thames, near the Inner and Middle Temples of the Inns of Court) that I first discovered Continued * how busy a barrister’s day can be. From a sheer perspective of the commute, practicing law in London is a task, before one even considers the additional requirement of actually preparing for and appearing in court. In the U.S., most courthouses are very centralized affairs, serving a wide jurisdictional area. Certainly this is at times the case in the UK as well, particularly when considering areas like the Maidstone Crown Court in Kent, or other areas less urbanized than Central London. It is also true that the Royal Courts of Justice, the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom, and other such monumental courts as the Central Criminal Court (colloquially called “The Old Bailey” from the street on which it sits) are centrally located in Legal London. The striking thing from my perspective was the relative geographic decentralization of the Crown Courts, which are roughly the equivalent of Florida’s Circuit Courts. Perhaps out of necessity, these are located throughout London on much the same pattern that one might think of public school placement; that is, a courthouse is placed in more of a “neighborhood” setting. This produces a more evenly distributed caseload in a large metropolitan area, but it also means that barristers must travel, often multiple times in a day and with case files and the traditional wig and robe attire packed in tow, between relatively distant courts to make their appearances. For junior barristers, a typical morning might consist of arriving at chambers and working on case preparation for a couple of hours until following the clerk’s assignments for the day, then commuting back to chambers to meet with one another or with clients, or to prepare for upcoming cases. The chambers’ clerks assign each barrister to cases for which they must appear; clerks have a huge responsibility in the efficient assignment of cases to barristers. The workload is high, as is the work ethic I observed among barristers and their support staff. The environment is simultaneously collegial and competitive, and it becomes quickly apparent that there is always more to do. I had been told, informally, that while QEB Hollis Whiteman tended to be more oriented toward prosecutions, Charter Chambers was somewhat more defense oriented. Notably, however, I saw two remarkable trials involving charges of serious violent crime while in London—one during my time with QEB Hollis Whiteman and one during my time with Charter Chambers—and both were from a defense perspective. I also saw a first-rate prosecution of a drug case while with Charter Chambers. Certainly the flexibility of the barristers to operate within their assigned roles was impressive. The People and the Profession At each step of my study, I found individuals who seemed to step forward to make themselves approachable and add to my experience. I am quite reluctant to begin naming them, as invariably some of those who were so helpful would be left out of my list. Some notable examples should suffice, however: After a weekend spent on planes, trains, and automobiles from Citra, Florida, United States, to London, England, I met Eamonn O’Reilly, from the Education and Training Department of the Inner Temple. From arranging for keys to the flat and a U.K. mobile phone to a general orientation of London, Mr. O’Reilly made an excellent mental map for me of what I would be doing and when—and rightly focused on the most important areas first (a very welcome consideration, given the travel weariness I felt). Then, he promptly disappeared, only to reappear again at exactly the right intervals to check in on schedule, give a tour of the Inner Temple Library, extend a lunch invitation to dine in the Inner or Middle Temple Hall, ask how things were coming along, arrange specific assignments to observe the workings of Legal London, or give an update on the status of chambers assignments. On my first day in chambers, I met Edward Henry of QEB Hollis Whiteman. Mr. Henry had hosted Pegasus Scholars in chambers before, and his demeanor, conversational style, and input put me quickly at ease. Over the weeks to come, despite his busy schedule, he always made time for a quick explanation of a specific procedural requirement, a more lengthy comparison of the finer distinctions in the law in a particular case, or shared compari- sons of American and English history and current events equally fluently. My first forays outside London were to the Maidstone Crown Courts in Kent, to observe a trial in which he and QC (Queen’s Counsel—more on this later) John Hilton were defending a young woman accused of murder. The facts of the particular case—the human factors— were of the kind that would make an advocate for either side concede that the other had a very triable case. The case did not involve a question of identity, rather, it involved serious questions regarding what in the U.S. might be considered diminished capacity, self defense, and even justifiable homicide.