Womble Bond Dickinson (WBD) is a founding member of the Legal Sustainability Alliance and were one of the first law firms in the UK to make the commitment of achieving net zero by 2030. LSA caught up with WBD’s Partner Sponsor for Net Zero, Jon Bower, and Sustainability Manager, Mathew Swift, to find out what they got up to during #NetZeroWeek.

“This year WBD identified a fantastic opportunity through Net Zero Week to raise awareness around our Net Zero commitment launched in October 2021 (WBD launches its roadmap to achieving net zero by 2030 | Womble Bond Dickinson), what Net Zero means for our organisation and how our colleagues can get further involved in terms of ensuring we deliver on this objective.” Mathew explained.

“Throughout the week we featured a number of fantastic resources on our website, including links to the LSA website. We hosted an insightful webinar with one of our suppliers, Commercial Group. This was of particular relevance, given the likely impact of our scope 3 supply chain emissions (typically up to 70-80% for an organisation such as WBD).” 

WBD Partner Sponsor for Net Zero, Jon Bower, also did a weekly vlog takeover, providing colleagues with an update on the firm’s progress and next steps. The week finished off with a call to action – encouraging the WBD community to participate, share their stories and suggestions and continue to contribute on our carbon emissions reduction journey.

Jon commented: “It was fantastic to see so many colleagues engage with our Net Zero Week activities. As a business we have been working hard to understand the impacts we have on our environment and encourage employees to learn how they can assist in reducing their carbon footprint.”

“We look forward to continuing our partnership with the LSA as an executive member, working collaboratively with this fantastic network of law firms who share a commitment to improving our environment and make a positive impact through our operations as well as with our clients, many of whom share similar commitments.”

In their quest to achieve Net Zero by 2030, WBD has already made great strides. They have reduced emissions to below 1 tonne CO2e per employee (2012 figure was 2.93 tonnes per employee), reduced the space by more than 50% at their largest office in Newcastle (WBD moves into new sustainable office at Newcastle Helix), invested in LED lighting across all offices, and now recycle approximately 90% of their waste firmwide.

WBD has also continued to improve their EPC ratings in line with refurbishments of their offices – notably improved to a C in Bristol, B in Plymouth and BREEAM building in Edinburgh and Newcastle.

It’s incredible. So much was expected of me before you all got sent home but now the magic and power I’m assumed to have is off the scale. Apparently, you all miss me. You know, like the desert misses the rain. I thought it might be because you’re all thirsty not having been able to get a drink since mid-March, but it seems it’s because you can’t hang around me anymore. It’s not the elixir of life you miss, it’s the experience. Are you sure?

I think it’s time I told you how it is. Straight from the horse’s nozzle. Then you can all lay off the social network for professionals. And get a bit of a life, depending of what the government decide the rules are today. Yes, I get the politics, pressed through the sieve of polarised prejudice. I’d rather not, but there’s a lot going on. It makes one rather miss the Nineties.

While there seems to be this assumption that I’m the centre of attention, the epicentre of corporate discourse, the spark in a tinderbox of imagination, the hub of a million spokes, truth be told it’s a bloody lonely life. I just stand in the corridor. I know what’s coming next, the blue plastic bottles stretch out into the anomie like wishes, enough to survive a biblical drought. The only amusement is watching a nebwie try and change one, after they’ve checked no-one’s watching. Humping the refill like an Atlas Stone in a shit-or-bust struggle between a quenched thirst and a drenched carpet and possible need for an emergency electrician. There ought to be commentary by David Attenborough.

Of all the hours in a day, days in a week, weeks in a lifetime I have to watch in expectation as you all come and go, your twenty-yard stare firmly fixed on the meeting or the trouble you’re in or about to be in, until one of you catch my eye and pause. I wait for — long for — the pause. That’s when it happens. And I forget all about the waiting.

I’ll say more about this — but why me? I mean — I’m a white box with a liquid head. Room temperature and chilled, that’s your lot. As for minerals, you’ll find more of them in a muddy puddle in the park. And now, bring your own cups, I don’t even have an armful of those annoying squishies anymore, where you try and take one, but I insist you have seven and there’s no way of putting them back in the top of the sleeve, so, you throw six away, take a mouthful and throw the seventh away. The sea hates you, by the way.

No-one talks about ‘shredder’ moments. Which is where you can usually find Brenda and Gus from Accounts. Especially when that merger was announced. They spent all night there once. Or ‘photocopier’ moments even though people seem to spend ages by them, cursing. Maybe the lingering disappointment of the unfulfilled dream of the paperless office is the deterrent. Or Steve in Sales. Yes, I heard about the incident with the parking attendant, the guavas and the lacrosse stick, too. You haven’t? Ah, sorry Steve.

You see, I hear a lot. A little less, of course, since people send messages on their phones. But what they send only seems to be more communication, not a replacement. And people then talk about the messages they’ve sent on their phones. They even show each other. Of course, when you send messages you can reach so many more people that we see here, the same old faces, year in year out. I’ve been here for longer than most. I’m rented, too. They could have bought me five times over for what they’ve paid. Best not say.

Some stories, though, need to be told face to face. Some aren’t even consciously formed until people meet, the mere sight of one another surfacing the need to tell. Because most of what I hear is stories. Part truth, part fiction. It’s often impossible to tell which is which. Most start with “I hear that…” I used to think it was a greeting. Like “yasoo!” I learned that it was about validation, having part of something and needing to fill in the gaps. By offering the bit that’s known it invites the bit that isn’t. You hope we can piece it all together as a jigsaw. I can, of course, but I can’t speak. If I could, you’d do this somewhere else.

This is where I can clear it all up, you see. Because the stories that get told in my earshot are small. They’re the minutiae of our lives. They’re not the macho chest-thumping innovations of corporate folklore, the stuff of CEO proclamations and misguided drivers of strategies based on hope and a whim. Heaven knows where they happen, if indeed they do. No, these stories are personal, and they matter. Where else, and how else, would you tell them? Which means, the importance of these moments has been massively underplayed, while their significance has been overplayed. Importance and significance aren’t the same. Yet they’re too often lumped together. It’s driven some needless traffic on LinkedIn and Twitter, that’s for sure. If you could just untangle these threads, you’d see what is at play. And at stake.

Anyway, I’ll be here for a while, missing you, ready for when you get back. My contract auto-renewed while everyone was too busy preparing for a safe return to the office — because apparently, you all miss me. How sweet is that? In the meantime, save those stories, you’ll get a chance soon. And stay safe.

The Law Society has recently issued a response to the Civil Justice Council’s rapid consultation on the impact of COVID-19 measures on the Civil Justice System (1). Their take-home message is that this “new normal is not accepted as a permanent way of accessing and upholding justice in the future” and it is “crucial that courts are able to re-open once it is safe to do so” (2). They have particular concerns surrounding the high barriers to entry (3), the impact on vulnerable parties and witnesses (4), and the inability of litigants in person to participate fully in remote hearings (5).

From an environmental and sustainability perspective, remote hearings in private disputes seem to represent an inherently positive step towards reducing the “legal carbon footprint”. At face value, it prevents swathes of lawyers from travelling, often internationally, to court. Less plane trips, train rides and car journeys are something that we at LSA are constantly pushing for. However, in order to be truly sustainable, it must have the capacity to deliver effective and open justice. It is unlikely that a permanent Zoom-court can fulfil this function.

As the Law Society notes, certain cases are more suited to remote hearings than others, the implication being that they could continue after the pandemic. Procedural, direction and case management hearings are cited as examples of this (6). It is likely that with a bit of adjustment, and technological support for those who need it, this could be a sensible way to reduce unnecessary travel and ensure that barristers, solicitors and laymen alike, are using their time wisely, However, this forms a relatively small part of the civil justice system, a “one-size-fits-all” approach would be inappropriate.

The problems that the Law Society outlined with virtual hearings are particularly acute in the family justice system. Indeed, Sir Andrew McFarlane, the President of the Family High Court has recently welcomed the Nuffield Report (7) which outlines the “significant concerns” and the “worrying descriptions of the way some cases have been conducted to date” (8). Not only this, but the report outlines the negative impact on practitioner’s health and well-being. The impact of this should not be underestimated: a demotivated, isolated workforce is not a sustainable situation.

Problems are not just unique to the family justice system. Although Lord Burnett of Maldon suggested that there would be “no going back to the pre-corona days”, suggesting that practitioners and judges would demand greater use of remote hearings (9), his enthusiasm does not seem to be wholly shared by those on the ground (10).

Only time will tell whether a technological revolution in the courts will be forthcoming. In order to be truly sustainable, however, it must work for everyone, users and practitioners alike.

Eliza Bond, LSA Intern

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(1)  The Law Society’s response to the Civil Justice Council’s rapid consultation on the impact of COVID-19 measures on the civil justice system May 2020
(2) Ibid at page 2.
(3) Ibid at page 5-6.
(4) Ibid at page 4.
(5) Ibid at page 8.
(6) Ibid at page 2.
(7) Remote hearings in the family justice system: a rapid consultation
(8) Ibid at page 1.
(9) https://www.lawgazette.co.uk/news/lcj-no-going-back-to-pre-covid-ways/5104263.article
(10) https://www.lawgazette.co.uk/practice-points/remote-hearings-during-the-covid-19-crisis/5103900.article