Vol. 14 No. 6 (June 2004), pp.435-439
ENGLISH LAWYERS BETWEEN MARKET AND STATE: THE
POLITICS OF PROFESSIONALISM,
by Richard L. Abel. New
York: Oxford University Press, 2003.
752pp. Hardback
$135.00 / £95.00 ISBN: 0198260334. Paper
$55.00 / £30.00. ISBN: 0198260342.
Reviewed by Patrick Schmidt, Department of
Political Science, Southern Methodist University, Email: pdschmid@mail.smu.edu
.
Readers may reach for clichéd terms to describe
this tome, this magnum opus. Certainly length factors
strongly in choosing to use such language, but so too the content
deserves a few linguistic fireworks, for Richard Abel’s most recent
project has turned contemporary history like a craftsman to provide us
with a punctilious chronicle of a transformative period in English
legal politics. Those who take up this book will be rewarded (if
occasionally burdened) with what might be regarded as the best account
of how one country’s legal profession—understood as a collectivity but
the creature of individual and sub-group action—attempts to maintain
its traditional position of strength in the face of external assaults
and internal discord.
For those who are familiar with Abel’s earlier work on lawyers in England (1988) and the United States (1989), the themes driving ENGLISH LAWYERS BETWEEN MARKET AND STATE will be familiar ground. Abel’s understanding of a legal profession is oriented around a broadly economic frame, in which the elements of professionalism (such as self-regulation and access controls for bar membership) serve the bar’s interest in maintaining a stable market for legal services, free of severe disruption or challenge to its financial vitality and social status. In the past two decades scholars have given the study of lawyers competing, interdisciplinary frames, including linguistic and interpretivist turns. Though some might be quick to point out that Abel’s approach remains necessarily partial, for his part ENGLISH LAWYERS has brought together levels of analysis that surely will please a wide array of scholars. His approach is critical, unrelenting, and blessed in this project with some of the best source data anyone might hope for in academic life.
A basic prior familiarity with theories of
professions perhaps would serve readers well, since the book opens
without a natural bookend for where it is headed in the concluding
chapter’s synthesis of that topic.
The starting point in Chapter 1 is an account of English
politics in the 1980s and 1990s that, following on the heels of a
Dramatis Personae worthy of a Russian novel, sets the stage with the
state’s assault on the profession.
After 1979, when the Royal Commission on Legal Services
deferentially approved the state of the profession, both Conservative
and Labour governments restructured the field.
Why? With
extremely fine précis of the governing ideologies of Thatcher, Major,
and Blair, Abel explores the personalities and ideologies that are the
book’s trigger. The
mechanics and specific political [*436] struggle of the Conservative
legal services “revolution” gets detailed treatment in Chapter 2. There is a political
mystery to tell here, because Abel thinks it paradoxical that the
Conservatives would overthrow tradition and attack its natural
constituents in the legal profession, just as it seems improbable that
a Labour government would embrace the Tories’ market reforms when
moving into Downing Street in 1997.
These are engaging enigmas, though even here it is apparent
that the “between market and state” portion of the book’s title is
itself a puzzle. Political
and market forces were not the rock and the hard place squeezing the
legal profession; rather, the state would press the profession with
market forces. Further,
as the book unfolds, the state and market grow considerably more
complex, to the point that these labels serve as simplifying (and
hence, distorting) summary variables for a wide variety of long-term
trends and social forces that created a climate of change.
Whatever the causes, Abel concerns himself
primarily with reactions and consequences.
The book neatly organizes the elements of professional
ideologies into individual chapters.
Chapter 3, for instance, examines the efforts of the
profession to regulate entry into the profession, concluding that
these are doomed to fail. Chapter
4 takes up the related question of the profession’s social and
demographic characteristics, since the status of the bar reflects its
exclusivity in composition as well as number.
The tables and figures that might have sharpened the text are
unfortunately absent, but beneath plenty of data he argues that the
English profession has not satisfactorily resolved how it would square
its meritocratic roots (which were conveniently exclusionary as a way
of reinforcing its collective status) in an order that affords
legitimacy to institutions that are representative.
If readers in countries with unified legal
professions have failed to appreciate the significance of the split
between barristers and solicitors, Chapter 5 will settle the
questions. Anticompetitive practices that have preserved the market and
high pay for barristers faced attack from within the bar as solicitors
sought easier access to courts, while barristers fought back by
seeking to allow clients direct access (rather than through
solicitors). Hidden practices such as the selection of QCs (Queen’s
Counsel) and judges were also under pressure.
Barristers loom large in cartoon images, topped with wigs and
the gracious mannerisms (“my learned friend”) of the upper crust, so
with this generous target Abel’s critical narrative seems to break
into a pattern. Chapter
6 follows that mold with a complementary study of the challenges to
solicitors, focusing particularly on the area of conveyancing, with
lighter (too light?) treatment of the rise of multinational legal
practice, multidisciplinary partnerships, specialization, and other
key trends.
Chapter 7 and 8 of ENGLISH LAWYERS form another
natural pair, with the pinnacle of Abel’s scathing autopsy focused on
the transformation of legal aid in England and Wales. Like many other points in the book, the United States
provides an important point of comparison—for the reader as well as
for all parties in England, who used the American legal system as the
poster-child of a legal system-gone-wrong. [*437] Readers familiar
with the American system of public defenders and pro bono legal
services will recognize the problem of building political support for
high government expenditures and aggressive defense for the accused. English lawyers
historically benefited from a very generous system of compensation,
which gave significant proportions of lawyers an incentive to take on
such work. The losers of
American-style reforms (e.g., conditional fees, salaried lawyers) were
the clients. “Each reform…replaced an incentive for lawyers to do too
much work at the expense of government with one to do too little at
the expense of clients” (p.350).
Abel’s disappointment in the Labour government is particularly
acute and palpable, because Thatcher and Major would be expected to
cut government spending on legal aid.
“But by substituting conditional fees for legal aid and
salaried lawyers and lay advisers for private practitioners and
capping the legal aid budget,” Abel writes, “‘New Labour’ confirmed
that its real novelty was antipathy to the welfare state” (p.353). Readers may wish to pause
here, as elsewhere, to raise some normative ambiguities. Abel recognizes the impotence of the profession’s arguments
in defense of the status quo, but his critique of professionalism has
by now sensitized us to question any position lawyers would support. Shouldn’t we deconstruct a
carte blanche legal aid system in light of the bar’s self
interests? Are we beyond
finding any natural protagonists and antagonists here, with all sides
tainted?
The rock and hard place role of market and state is
most apparent in Chapter 9, concerning lawyer discipline. The “clients” are a key force, pushing lawyers like never
before to justify themselves, show respect, and be attentive to client
needs. If the profession
could not provide such a high level of service, the state might step
in. By the end of the
1990s, the professional illusion had barely a shred of magic, and the
asserted autonomy of lawyers had substantially declined.
At the same time, some of the issues facing the legal
profession are entirely internal.
Though Chapter 10, concerning the internal politics of the
profession’s governance, is the drama’s comic relief—with candidates
calling their opponents, variously, a “complete pillock,” “a piece of
dog turd,” and “the most dangerous feminist in England”—its lessons
about politics (collective action, power, and the challenges of
democracy) ring simultaneously universal and less insightful.
To say that these chapters constitute mere
“contemporary history” would be too light.
The book has the feel of an authoritative history of a past
era, with distance that belies the fact that Abel is reporting events
of the current administration (though there has been sufficient time
for some of the characters, like Keith Vaz, to produce enough material
for other critical inquiries). Chapter
11’s synthesis of the preceding chapters makes clear how professions
are challenged in their attempt to sustain their legitimacy, status,
and economic returns. It also gives Abel room to speculate on the future vitality
of professionalism’s hallmark elements.
Professionalism, he argues, faces continuing erosion, as old
rationalizations collapse. Abel
does not mince words: “Like all ideologies, the legal profession’s is
fictitious and incoherent” (p.497).
There is no scope for [*438] lawyers to escape the demands of
the market and state, since the claims the profession seeks to make
“are internally contradictory and factitious.
Just as lawyers broke their promise to elevate client
interests above their own, so very few champion the oppressed against
injustice” (p.498). The
reader must turn the last page with a certain amount of despair. Where to go from here? Clearly there are problems
with state regulation, if the politics of legal aid reform are any
indication. A post-Enron
world does not leap to embrace market forces as the source of attorney
responsibility and good practices, either.
Unfortunately yet powerfully, with just a few hints and clues
the reader might try to piece together, Abel leaves us hanging between
market and state as the trapeze wire of professionalism comes
unraveled.
Any frustrations in such an ending should be
forgiven in light of the scholarship that Abel has given to us. Even in a highly condensed format, the footnotes,
bibliography, and index run a brain-numbing 214 pages; they contain
numerous thoughtful discussions that are very worthy of attention. Further, Abel disarms his
argumentative onslaught with wry humor, dripping irony, and discretion
in piling narrative on top of the characters’ proclamations.
Readers will want to look closely at his frequent
parentheticals, where he points out the implications, contradictions,
or shallowness in the statements of the characters.
Here he not only found space to poke at his characters, as in
this example: “A Law Society President…warned that ‘the rule of money
would overcome the rule of law’ (whatever that meant)” (p.236), but to
add suggestive hints at his critical themes, as in the opening
sentence to Chapter 8: “In opposition, Labour had equivocated on legal
aid (like many other issues)” (p.293).
But the power and weight of the indictment would seem to
allow the right to rub some salt in the wound, and it provides a form
of relief that keeps the reader going, especially for non-English
readers who may feel that they have to learn far more detail about the
politics of the English bar than is necessary to reach Abel’s lessons.
Indeed, although at times while reading I felt my
conclusion to this review would be the half-hearted praise of “this is
a valuable book; but you don’t need to read all of it to get the gist
of it,” it became increasingly difficult for me to identify exactly
what portion a reader should leave out.
Abel structures the book cleanly so as to allow readers an
“out”—the conclusion section of each chapter neatly summarizes and
repeats many of the dramatic moments of the bar’s struggles—but to do
so would be to miss out on the themes that are perhaps more
significant than the story of professionalism as an ideology.
It isn’t just that “those wishing to understand lawyers
should read what they say about themselves, no matter how pompous,
tedious or self-adulatory the text may be” (Cain 1994, p.20).
Their words certainly do that much, and our understanding of
professional ideologies is definitely more mature because of Abel’s
contributions. Even more
deeply, this is a book about rhetoric in a political system, its logic
and its power. The
policy area of professional services regulation is a window to the
politics between the state and its regulated constituents.
In particular ways, the profession is an [*439] industry, a
union, and a marketplace. The
richness of ENGLISH LAWYERS lets us see individuals and institutions
respond to one another, develop and lose credibility, succeed and fail
in the marketplace of ideas, and parlay those positions into future
successes and losses. We
can watch lawyers hoist the profession and themselves with their own
rhetorical petard, and we also witness the interaction of
argumentation, ideology, and interests in modern politics.
REFERENCES:
Abel,
Richard L. 1988. THE LEGAL PROFESSION IN ENGLAND AND WALES. Oxford:
Basil Blackwell.
Abel,
Richard. 1989. AMERICAN LAWYERS. New York: Oxford University Press.
Cain, Maureen. 1994. “The Symbol Traders.” In Maureen Cain and Christine B. Harrington (eds.) LAWYERS IN A POSTMODERN WORLD: TRANSLATION AND TRANSGRESSION. New York: New York University Press.
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Copyright 2004 by the author, Patrick Schmidt.