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

_____________________________________________________________________________

(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

As we approach day 60 in lockdown, law students across the country are experiencing a very different summer term to that imagined at the start of the year. Graduations have either been postponed indefinitely or are to be streamed via Zoom – an anti-climactic end deprived fully of all the usual pomp and celebration rightly owed to this landmark achievement. A pronounced mixture of loss and frustration resonates with students and staff alike at the prospect of continued disruption into September. For me, the strangeness of the situation is summarised well by the fact that my would-be exam hall within the ExCel centre is currently kitted out with ventilators and empty beds, functioning as ‘NHS Nightingale’.

And yet the natural world beyond our screens provides reason to remain positive. Now living back at home in north Northumberland, I’m lucky enough to be within walking distance of my nearest beach, which is now mostly undisturbed save for a handful of locals. Coming home, the difference in air quality alone of my recent halls of residence (just off Euston Road, infamously known as one of the city’s most polluted streets) and Northumberland was stark – but happily now lessened by the sudden drop in London air pollution since lockdown!

Similarly, today’s news that global carbon emissions have dropped by 13.6% is welcome but to be taken with a pinch of salt, as Corinne Le Quéré of Natural Climate Change warns: ‘Just behavioural change is not enough, […] we need structural changes [to the economy and industry]. But if we take this opportunity to put structural changes in place, we have now seen what it is possible to achieve.’ Quéré’s caution is no doubt part of a wider, necessary conversation concerning the future of societal behaviours centred around an international green recovery effort.

To this end, a joint statement made on the 18th May by 150+ big corporate names – among them Coca-cola and Vodafone – called for the economic recovery to be aligned with a net zero agenda and to be based on science-based climate goals. The UN Secretary-General António Guterres said of the statement: ‘many companies are showing us that it is indeed possible and profitable, to adopt sustainable, emission-reducing plans even during difficult times like this’, a narrative which could well be replicated soon in the legal sector.

Molly Woodburn

First Year Law Student UCL

Intern at Achill Management

Photo by Asya Tes on Unsplash

Whilst we all get used to a new normal in terms of how we are having to live our lives in response to coronavirus disease 2019 (Covid 19), at least for the next few weeks or months, it is important to remain positive and recognise that we will get through this challenging and, for many, distressing period.  All our hearts go out, I am sure, to those who are suffering and have lost loved ones as a result and I wish good health to all reading this short piece.

At a time when it feels we are being buffeted by so much gloomy news about the spread of Covid 19 and its impacts, it is good to hear some good news blown in on the wind – quite literally.  According to the latest Energy Trends report (March 2020) published by the Department for Business, Energy & Industrial Strategy (DBEiS), the amount of renewable electricity generated in the UK in 2019 reached a record high – 8.5% more than in 2018 at 119.3 TWh, largely due to increased capacity.  Renewables accounted for 36.9% of the UK’s total electricity generation – an increase of 3.8% on 2018 and a record high.  Wind power accounted for an unprecedented 20% of this.

This switch away from fossil fuel electricity generation towards renewables has had an impact on the UK’s total CO₂ emissions – provisional estimates show that these fell between 2018 and 2019 by 3.9%.  This means that the UK has almost halved its CO₂ emissions compared with 1990 levels – an encouraging result.

In response to this good news Melanie Onn, the Deputy Chief Executive of RenewableUK, a membership organisation whose membership is for organisations involved in wind and marine renewables, said:

“Today’s record-breaking figures show just how radically the UK’s energy system is changing, with low-cost renewables at the vanguard. This will continue as we build a modern energy system, moving away from fossil fuels to reach net zero emissions as fast as possible. As well as wind, we’ll use innovative new technologies like renewable hydrogen and marine power, and we’ll scale up battery storage.”

So, good news and exciting stuff!  But, just as science coupled with personal decisions and behaviours changes will help us crack the Covid 19 challenge, so it will need both these to help decarbonise our energy supplies and achieve the UK Government’s target of net zero carbon emissions by 2050.  As many of us spend more time at home perhaps we might consider switching our domestic energy supplier to one who guarantees a genuinely 100% renewable source?  Or better still, encouraging our businesses to make that switch – for example by joining the LSA’s Legal Renewables Initiative and taking advantage of the discounted tariff being offered to LSA members by Good Energy (with associated domestic discounts for those signed up to the LRI).

So, mingled in with the current ill wind of Covid 19 there is also some really good news being blown in on the wind which gives us all hope for the future!

Here’s hoping that all readers stay safe and healthy in these challenging times.

Useful info:

Planet Pod’s Net Zero series of podcasts in conjunction with the Grantham Institute

Oscar Wilde’s quip, spoken by Lord Darlington in Lady Windermere’s Fan, that a cynic was “a man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing” is often quoted.  In my less optimistic moods (which I hope are few and far between!) I wonder if some of us may be in danger of slipping into a somewhat cynical view when it comes to what we buy and consume and its impact on the natural environment.  One which perhaps puts short term economic gain above understanding the longer-term value of our natural habitats and species?  A view, perhaps, which considers the destruction of tracts of ancient forest or woodland in the interests of commerce to be an acceptable price to pay without fully appreciating and factoring in the longer term value of the “ecosystem services” associated with tracts of land, mountains, streams, rivers, oceans and the air we breathe?  These are often irreplaceable and sometimes hidden services which, collectively, add value to human’s quality of life, health and wellbeing and the long-term health and sustainability of this tiny planet of ours.  As a consumer, do I care more about the price of goods I buy than the cost to the planet of getting them to me at that price?

I was prompted to write this article by an unexpected exchange I had recently with a complete stranger living in Australia.  She, like me and 5500 other part-time artists, has kicked off 2020 by taking part in a “Sketchbook Challenge”[i] – producing a daily sketch in response to a subject prompt provided by the organiser and sharing this on a Facebook group.  One particular prompt was “Supermarkets” and, short of time and inspired by a walk in some local woods, I decided to sketch a line of tree trunks which reminded me of the ubiquitous bar code used by all stores to price up goods.  (Perhaps, I thought, ‘bark code” might be more accurate in this context!)

My quick drawing (As seen above) obviously struck a chord with a fellow sketcher from down under who responded with a stark picture of a similar line of trees with the sad difference that hers were standing charred and lifeless as a result of the recent bushfires.  She added

“Your “bark code” is a great thought. The tree image brings to mind our post bushfire scenes in Australia. What price are we paying?…. In their distress, Australians have been hugely moved by the care and concern from other countries. And many of us hope it translates into far deeper global action”.

Image of woodland devastated by bushfires in Australia

At the time of writing the bush fires have claimed 28 lives and burned an estimated 100,000 km² (15.6 million acres) of bush, forest and parks across Australia – equivalent of 40% of the entire UK.  According to the Worldwide Fund for Nature (WWF) an estimated 1.25 billion animals have been affected, including 30% of the entire koala population in mid-north coast of New South Wales.

Whilst not new (and, arguably, in proportion, bush fires are a natural and necessary part of the way ecosystems regenerate), the scale, ferocity and duration of the current fires is exceptional.  As WWF highlight “these catastrophic megafires are worsening the extinction crisis we are already facing”.  Climate change is recognised as a significant factor in all this and yet, collectively, we still seem to be prepared to pay the price for carbon-fuelled goods and services that contribute to global warming without fully realising the damage being done and the value to long term quality of life on our planet that is being stripped out by them.

Sadly, the list is long of other aspects of the natural environment whose value – from our day to day buying choices – we appear not to fully appreciate:

• One million species (about one eight of the total) are at risk of extinction due to the change of use of land and sea, pollution, climate change and over exploitation of resources
• Eight million tonnes of plastic are thrown into our oceans each year – much of which breaks down into toxic microplastic.  On average, we each ingest 5 grams of plastic each week (about one credit card’s worth)
• 17% of the Amazonian rainforest – the lungs of our planet – have been destroyed over the past 50 years
• Despite the national commitments made via the 2016 Paris Agreement, carbon emission curbs are not currently enough to prevent global temperatures rising above the 2 degC target level

In his recent speech at the World Economic Forum in Davos, HRH The Prince of Wales highlighted the importance of making the sustainable options the “trusted and attainable options for consumers”.  He highlighted that, with consumers controlling an estimated 60 per cent of global GDP, “people around the world have the power to drive the transformation to sustainable markets. Yet, we cannot expect consumers to make sustainable choices if these choices are not clearly laid before them. As consumers increasingly demand sustainable products, they deserve to be told more about product lifecycles, supply chains and production methods. For a transition to take place, being socially and environmentally conscious cannot only be for those who can afford it. If all the true costs are taken into account, being socially and environmentally responsible should be the least expensive option because it leaves the smallest footprint behind. We must communicate better with consumers about the sustainability of the goods, services and investments we offer.”

Being better informed about the long term sustainability impact of the goods and services we buy is a key step in helping us to make sustainable buying decisions.  Not only can we know the up front price but we can decide if that price is right considering the value of the resources required to produce or provide these goods and services.  Through these decisions we can play our part in this critical decade to protect those resources.  Perhaps the time has come for us to “bark code” all our forests, mountains, streams, rivers and oceans?

(This article also appears in February 2020 edition of the Messenger – the monthly publication of the Manchester Law Society)

[i] http://www.magenta-sky.com/online-courses/30-day-sketchbook-challenge/

Amanda Carpenter

As we enter a new decade is it time to ditch the expression ‘Snowflake Generation’ – young adults of the 2010s who are accused of being hypersensitive and prone to take offence too easily? Our so called ‘Snowflakes’ are open to easy jibes at their phone addiction, their predilection to eat Avo on Toast and Instagram the experience, accusations they live a virtual life on social media and not an actual one. All too often these young people have been the butt of jokes from us oldies, the baby boomer and 60’s generation who have a tendency to fall into their own stereotypes of ‘you don’t know how lucky you are’ type comments.

As a parent of two ‘snowflakes’ I think it’s time for a bit of a rethink from those of us the other side of 50. Young people today are far worse off than we were at their age. We left higher education with no millstone of fee debt around our necks, free to walk into one job one day and out of it to another the next as the whim took us. Free to make our mistakes – fashion, romance, food – in relative obscurity without someone sticking it on Facebook or twitter.

Snowflakes I would argue are hypersensitive – they are anxious and it seems their anxiety is justified. Data from Children and Adolescent Mental Health services (CAMHs) shows a spike in the number of young people suffering from mental ill health. There has been a sharp rise, up 37%, in young people admitted to hospital with eating disorders this year and alarmingly 12 deaths in the last 7 years. Eco-Anxiety is a reality for many and a growing sense of worry about the world and its’ future keeps many awake at night as well as propelling them onto the streets.

One of my campaigns for 2020 is to reclaim the Snowflake label – not write off young adults as over sensitive delicate young plants, but respect and understand the anxieties they carry. Real snowflakes are miracles of nature, each one unique in its form and structure, needing careful handling but we miss so much if we fail to observe their innate beauty and specialness. The same is true of our young adults – let’s stand up for Snowflakes and celebrate them instead of writing them off.

Photo by pan xiaozhen on Unsplash