Criminal minds

Three recent graduates from the Law Society’s Law School have opted for careers as criminal-defence lawyers. Mary Hallissey gets the skibidi deets on life in the fast lane

Ciara Dinneny (Michael J Staines and Co), Aoife Dalton (Sheehan and Partners LLP), and Mary Lavelle (Keenan and Co LLP) are deeply dedicated to their work, which they know performs an essential role in the justice system.

The trio has been driven by a long-standing interest in human rights and social justice, often sparked during their teenage years.

In a refreshing diversion from the traffic of young solicitors towards commercial firms, the three cite the very rewarding nature of the work and its endlessly varied days as part of the attraction.

While the ‘Big Law’ firms are highly visible at graduate job fairs, finding criminal-law training contracts is often more difficult and less visible, the three note.

They all express disappointment at the previous downgrading of criminal law to an elective by the Law Society Law School, which has since been rectified.

“It’s not always spelled out that easily as an option of how to pursue this as a career, or what a career in criminal law would look like,” says Ciara Dinneny, who hails from Cavan. “But it’s quite a basic thing – to know how to defend a client and how to protect someone’s rights.”

A Hague on both your houses

Ciara’s ambition in getting a training contract with a criminal-law firm was solidified by a master’s in international and transnational criminal law in Amsterdam, followed by working at the International Criminal Court in The Hague.

“Our work is very public facing. Every day, you’re dealing with the public, and not just one or two – you could be dealing with ten to 15 different people each day, each one with varying needs,” Ciara says.

Gaeilgeoir Mary Lavelle, who comes from Co Mayo, initially wanted to work through the medium of Irish but is now very happy that she pursued criminal-defence work, which she describes as “tough but very rewarding”.

Dubliner Aoife Dalton did some work experience in the Four Courts during her transition year and found the criminal courts “much more interesting”. This sparked a curiosity in crime and human rights.

On finishing university, she was fortunate to do an internship with Sheehan & Partners, where she has worked ever since. This, allied with an interest in crime and human rights, drove her towards criminal-defence work.

“It’s such a significant thing for anyone to come before the criminal courts, and we are trying to support them through that, and make sure they are adequately prepared for what they are facing,” explains Ciara.

“Some people have their own afflictions – this may be addiction or mental-health issues, and you’re trying to manage that as well as your caseload.”

Significant autonomy

“There is a huge amount of autonomy when you are in court. This is very rewarding, but it can be challenging too, because you don’t get to practice an application before it’s heard in court. It’s very tangible, and it has a very real impact on your client,” Ciara adds.

“The significance of that adds a certain level of pressure because our job is to make sure our clients are protected.”

Aoife agrees: “It is daunting knowing that, in most of the cases we deal with, our client’s liberty is at stake, and you do feel a strong sense of responsibility to do your very best for them.”

Ciara adds: “Liberty is obviously significant, but even a conviction in itself has such a significant impact. And we are making sure that clients fully understand the implications of that.”

Some clients are more familiar with the criminal justice system, while others have never been before a court and are absolutely terrified, the trio says. It’s also hard to manage expectations when there are so many variables on any given day in court.

And the three all understand how fundamental the right to a criminal-defence lawyer is and how any member of the public could need one, any day of the week.

“People think, ‘that’ll never be me who will end up in a court’, but we see people from all walks of life who have the misfortune of appearing before a judge,” says Aoife. “Their lawyer is such an important support person for them in that situation,” says Mary.

Grittier reality

There are no glamorous glass-walled offices for these solicitors, but rather the grittier reality of garda stations, prison visits, and often acting as a makeshift social worker for marginalised clients, some of whom may not even have a telephone number.

The work of a criminal-defence solicitor involves regular on-call duty over weekends, and at nights.

Aoife says that she initially believed that barristers ‘ran the show’ but that, in reality, solicitors are the ones managing the District Courts and the foundational elements of every case. The solicitor is the first point of contact and the permanent anchor for every client.

Providing a robust defence often requires expert evidence – psychiatric evaluations, psychologists’ reports, and engineers’ reports. While a barrister may appear for the trial, the solicitor is the one visiting the prisons, chasing expert-witness reports, and managing what might be a number of variables in a client’s case.

Ciara, Mary, and Aoife all provide client support beyond legal advice every single day, often dealing with clients with addictions and various mental-health issues.

The three explain that their jobs extend far beyond legal advocacy in the District Court, and they often act as a bridge between the client and the social-support system.

“That’s definitely an element of the job that people don’t see: going above and beyond for the clients,” says Ciara.

The paper chase

All three stress the paper-based nature of the District Court system, where judges use physical sheets of paper for each criminal case. This physical system can lead to misplaced documents and consequent adjournments, or directions for no order.

Legal-aid applications are also paper-based and manually processed. Original paperwork is an important part of the courts' system, the three remark. A judge will look for original paperwork in court – a warrant, for instance, must be an original copy.

“I don’t think that’s going to change, on the criminal side, for a long time,” observes Ciara. However, it does add to the administrative burden for practitioners handling multiple cases each day.

Given the physical nature of the courts' system, practitioners also have physical files, notes, and letters in court. Garda-station interview work also involves lengthy notetaking after a caution is issued, Mary adds.

This all means that hauling around large files is simply part of the practitioner’s working day.

Defence solicitors may also spend hours on the telephone with homeless services and drug treatment centres, advocating for their clients. Often, the solicitor is the only link between an incarcerated person and their family.

All three highlight the difficulties they can face accessing their clients in custody.

Sometimes, simply seeing a client is a victory: “You could wait four weeks to see a client in prison,” says Aoife. “Then it can often happen that you arrive and they’ve been moved to a different facility or, on the odd occasion, due to staff shortages, you might not get to see your client at all.”

Prison visits are time limited – you could be in the middle of discussing important elements of a client’s case and be told that visiting time is over. “You have the client getting frustrated because their lawyer’s visit isn’t as long as it should be,” says Mary.

Video calls are available – however, they often have a bad connection or there are loud background noises making them unsuitable. Available visit-booths may be block-booked already for video-link court appearances, while crucial family visits also take up available slots.

This means that there are limited slots available for solicitors seeking to visit their clients.

Care-focused work

All three point out that the work is, ultimately, a vocation.

A large part of their role is supporting people who find themselves in difficult positions; whether they are coming before the courts system for the first time or are individuals with recurring offending records, linked to unmet addiction and mental-health needs.

“Clients often ask for us to help them, in terms of either moving to a different prison, or getting a bed, or getting seen to by a doctor – they’re sleeping on the floor because of overcrowding and have health issues as a result,” explains Aoife.

“We’re not medical professionals, but again, you want to do your best for them. So it’s trying to find the balance of what we can do to help,” says Ciara.

They agree that more may be asked of them because they are caring women: “I definitely struggle to say no,” Mary says.

“The other side of that is it’s so rewarding when the outcome comes right – and that doesn’t necessarily mean that someone’s found ‘not guilty’, but it’s about the right outcome – getting the proper help that they need,” she adds.

“It’s about getting the best outcome for them, whether that’s getting supports together or putting structures in place to help them,” adds Ciara.

The reality is, however, that many clients suffering from addiction will never get clean, even when offered help over several years.

Sometimes, their solicitor is the first person that the accused has disclosed their predicament to, adding a confessor element to the job, says Ciara. Some clients, sadly including juvenile ones, are without any support, often having emerged from the care system.

“I always say ‘you have to confide in some way, you can’t carry that weight alone’,” says Mary.

The Probation Service does good work, they agree, and assists with bail supervision, as well as training and employment opportunities.

Low legal-aid payments

Payment to the representing firm under the Legal Aid Scheme is per case irrespective of the number of hours or how much behind-the-scenes work is put in. This is what distinguishes the solicitor input from that of the barrister, the three lawyers point out.

“The amount of work that practitioners put in is not reflected by the payment under the scheme,” says Aoife, pointing to the heavy burden of reviewing disclosure materials and finding experts.

“Especially when the court will put the onus on the solicitor to find a person psychiatric treatment or to obtain a psychiatric report, which can be extremely hard to come by these days, given the low rates of pay under the Legal Aid Scheme,” she adds.

Promised pay restoration will only be to previous 2012 recession-era levels, and will not lift rates significantly, they point out.

They all remark that the cost of living has risen drastically since 2012 and restoring pay to that rate will not be sufficient.

The entire serious-trial preparation period yields payment for just one two-hour client consultation, they add. And while the defence can apply for disclosure-review funding or funding for experts from the Legal Aid Board, the process is cumbersome and requires lengthy sign-off.

“If we could eliminate some of the red tape to make it a lot easier for us to access this funding, that would be really helpful,” says Ciara.

“It just feels like there are constant hoops you’re having to jump through to get to do your job. Disclosure is given in a piecemeal fashion, experts are constantly having to update their reports and, obviously, want to get paid for the work they’re doing,” Mary adds.

“All of the interesting aspects of our roles can sometimes be overwhelmed by the paperwork-heavy side of things. Trying to get funding approved shouldn’t take up most of my time. I should have more time to go through the evidence for my client, take their instructions, and prepare for their case,” Ciara says.

Given that all practitioners share the same frustrations, the work tends to be very collegial: “There’s always a sounding board and, in the office, you have that support, too,” says Aoife.

The pay rates are also often too low to entice a defence solicitor to travel to a rural garda station, the trio points out.

Separately, the DPP has expressed her concern that pay rates are too low to attract a talent-pipeline into the field.

However, Aoife, Ciara, and Mary highlight that they are more concerned from a defence perspective, as they are seeing an increasing trend of practitioners moving to the Office of the DPP after about five years on the job.

This is leading to a decline in the number of experienced criminal-defence practitioners.

Interestingly, all three have spotted some young-lawyer traffic from the big five law firms towards criminal-defence work. Several arrivals each year have completed a well-paid traineeship elsewhere, but then followed their hearts towards criminal-defence work.

“To be fair, a lot of them want the court experience, because it’s so valuable. It’s a heavy workload, but we generally can confine it to office hours. You do control your own diary, to a certain extent,” says Mary.

Ciara agrees: “I didn’t want to be confined to an office all day. Being on your feet to advocate on behalf of your clients is just so dynamic. It’s an exciting part of the job.”

“It’s very fast paced, so it doesn’t suit everyone. By the end of the week, you’re begging for an office day,” laughs Aoife.

“The work/life balance is better, for sure,” Mary concludes.

Mary Hallissey is a journalist at the Law Society Gazette.