What does it really mean to be a lawyer today—whether you call yourself a barrister, a solicitor, an advocate, an attorney, or something in between?
It’s a question I return to often—especially since I was first exposed to critical legal and sociolegal studies. The more I read and experienced, the more I realised that being a lawyer is not just about knowing the law. It’s about how we show up—in front of clients, in courtrooms, and in society at large. It’s about how we carry the weight of responsibility, our own weaknesses, the tension between procedure and justice, and the limits of the system we work in.
In both England and Spain, the profession is under real strain. Legal aid continues to shrink. Public trust is fragile. Access to justice is, for many, more illusion than reality. I see younger lawyers—bright, committed people—feeling burnt out before they’ve really begun. Overwhelmed by bureaucracy, underpaid for their effort, and often disillusioned by the gap between the values they trained for and the daily grind they’ve stepped into.
The ideals that once guided us—service, fairness, truth—can start to feel distant. And yet, many of us stay. Why? Maybe because, deep down, we still believe the law can serve people. But to do that, we need to keep asking hard questions—not just about what the law is, but what kind of lawyers we want to be.
Law, at its best, is a way to serve. But the systems we work in—from the overburdened family courts in London to the rigid formalism of some tribunals in Spain—don’t always make space for that. We work too fast, speak too much in code, and sometimes forget who the law is actually for.
This isn’t a lecture. It’s a reflection from someone still figuring things out. I’ve seen the system from the inside—as an independent barrister in England and as an abogado in Spain. I’ve worked cases that felt meaningful, and others that left me disillusioned. And through it all, I’ve come to believe that being a lawyer today means making space for doubt, honesty, and asking hard questions.
What are we doing when we practise law? Are we making justice more accessible—or less? Are we helping people navigate the system—or just keeping the machine running?
Being a critical with our profession doesn’t mean rejecting the system altogether. It means staying awake to its limits. It means choosing language that people can understand. It means noticing when tradition stops being helpful. And, maybe most of all, it means trying—despite setbacks—to make the law work for the people it was meant to protect.
There are no perfect answers. But I believe in the effort. I believe that even small acts of clarity, fairness, and humanity in our work matter. This blog is my space to think out loud about that hope, that struggle, and that ongoing question: what kind of lawyers do we want to be?
Add comment
Comments