A cautious welcome from me to the Pupillage Gateway as we’ll give anything a chance before sticking the boot in.

I have to say that from the Chambers end it’s not user-intuitive.  Well designed sites shouldn’t need you to read the user guide, it should be glaringly obvious.  I resented having to read the user guide to see how to do it.

I can’t see how it will make a blind bit of difference to the process for anyone.  The questions are the same as ever but this year Trinity Chambers can have two questions of our own rather than just one.

And I guarantee that the technology will, in the words of the last tech provider “fall over” in the last hours before the deadline.  Three times the last provider put in huge additional resource so that the last minute rush wouldn’t crash the system.  On the last occasion they got it right (their surprise and shock about the last-minute application traffic was a sight to see) and then immediately, a new tech provider is going to have a go.

See you back here on 30 April 2013 for the full “I told you so….”

Mike

Yesterday Trinity conducted first round interviews in this year’s pupillage competition. That was a full day of interviews with only half an hour for lunch and what a pleasant day it was. Many very nice and talented young (and some not so young) people, the real shame being that we cannot offer places to all of them.

Today was the Pupil Supervisors’ course in York. Traditionally billed as the “Don’t [have inappropriate relationships with] the pupil” course it must be that it’s changed in recent times.

This was the second time the course had been run in the new format at 3 hours long rather than just the one.

The new (2011) pupillage handbook provides the backbone of the documentation and makes it sound very dull but it wasn’t.

The course was “facilitated” by Andrew Lewis QC who is an excellent speaker and does very well that “thing” that so many speakers can’t: It is the art of telling the audience that taking all of the rules very seriously and adopting a most diligent approach is the only approach without leaving everyone thinking “yeah right, but in reality….”. I guess you can tell when other speakers are just paying lip service to propriety.

I was surprised to recognise only one face but then as a Newcastle-dwelling Lancastrian in the capital of Yorkshire I guess I ought not to have been. The Bar should be proud that such conscientious, pleasant and talented people readily give up their Saturday mornings (and not just for the CPD points) for the benefit of pupils, Chambers and the Bar itself. I don’t know the names of those I spent the time role-playing and discussing with, partly because I’m too fish-out-of-water at these things and partly because I have that disease where names go straight through a little tube between your ears. But a more decent set of coves you couldn’t hope to meet.

If pupils are the future of the bar then the future of the bar and the supervisors in whose custody that rests are in good hands.

Oh, and incidentally no-one actually told us not to have [inappropriate relationships with] the pupil. We’ll take that as read then.

Mike

Told you I’d be saying I told you so. 229 applications rather than the predicted 235.

Several hundred examples of magistrates’ court without an apostrophe.

10 or so examples of council instead of counsel.

Liaise down 10 places in the spelling cock-up top 20.

Insights down.

A rare sighting of the two apostrophes in one word gag.

Only a few pupilage instead of pupillage.

At least 5 people could not (and I’m not making this up) spell the name of their university.

The worst two applications I’ve ever seen were in there. Well done; you know who you are.

New in at number one: barsitter instead of barrister. Never seen it before but this year: two of them.

If you can’t spell advocacy please buy a dictionary.

Two people told us why they wanted to gain pupillage at another chambers. Cut’n'paste carelessness costs careers….

At least 30 people think we’re on the Northern Circuit…..

If you went to a Grammar school please learn to spell “Grammar”.

All in all, I had a blast; let’s do it all again next year.

Dear All,

It’s my favourite time of year. Pupillage application time. The portal closes on Thursday and I will be reading the first sift of applications. In fact I’ve already started because I know there will be 230 plus.

We regularly receive 235. It may be one or two higher or lower but not by much. Always struck me as odd that but there you have it: 235 x 10 pages or so.

I know what it means from your side of the chasm that has to be leapt to land in the mythical world of pupillage. I was there not long ago. Let me tell you what it’s like from my side:

Firstly, the mechanics of it. Yesterday I printed the only 27 applications made in good time. Yes, 27 as it stands but it will be 235 by Thursday. It’s the same every year. I used to get my hopes up when looking 24 hours before the deadline and seeing only 50 applications; now I know that you will all do it at the last minute and trust your future careers and lives to your PC, a server run somewhere by someone you’ve never met and a broadband connection that you know has failed in the past.

A few years ago the system would crash regularly. I went to London to sit on the Pupillage Portal Review Group to see if we could improve it. The hardware and software suppliers simply couldn’t believe the last minute flurry of activity each year. One year they told us that it would be bombproof the following year. Wrong. You pesky applicants still managed to crash it by gambling with your futures at 5 minutes to deadline.

At my most difficult I have malicious thoughts about binning all applications made within the last hour before deadline. Are we so unimportant to you? Would you book your holiday flights in the last hour before you wanted to be sure you could have a holiday? Are you going to run your practice within our Chambers in such a shambolic, last-minute way?

Printing those 27 applications came to 264 pages and took one of Chambers’ main printers out for 15 minutes or so. Cue justifiably grumpy senior member of Chambers waiting for his urgent material from the printer. Ironically that’s why I printed those 27 early. Last year I printed them all at once and it took out a printer and an office junior for ages. And the same senior member of Chambers waited for hours for his document by the time the printer had been reloaded repeatedly, de-jammed, rested, cooled, re-toned and pensioned off. 2,350 sheets of paper. That’s why they call it the stack.

Incidentally the real reason I went to London to help the Bar Council with the Portal Review Group was to cut the word limits. I campaigned hard to slice 150 words from here, 200 from there, erase that duplicate question. Saved something like 1900 words one year and some more the next. Net result? Saved myself reading approximately half a million words every year. Has it stopped us finding the best candidates? Nope. Just saved hours of my life.

The next logistical problem is how do we do it? Every set of chambers will have a different approach. We are of the view that one person needs to read all applications because how else do you compare and contrast? Ten different people reading a tenth each will result in unfairness. So I will read all 2,350 pages. Every word. A ring binder, I think, takes 3-400 pages so it’s probably 5-6 ring binders of lovely small print.

So what do we look for? I have found interviewing and viva voce examinations fascinating over the years. We don’t have to fail people. We don’t have to give them a hard time. They do it all by themselves. Candidates and applicants enter the room with a clean slate, the panel full of expectation. Either you leave us with the expectation and, as you leave the room, we say to each other “S/he fills me with hope. They could go a long way etc etc” or you snatch it away from us by saying and doing silly things that we didn’t want you to say and do.

And its just the same with written applications. You snatch away the reader’s hope all on your own.

Get used to it – Everyone has qualifications as good as yours. Many will be better. Got a first from Redbrick? Someone has a first from Oxbridge. Got a first from Oxbridge? So has this other guy.

You all have outstanding A levels. Without being drawn into the “A-levels have got easier since my day” row, they simply do not help us discriminate any more. (Not a rude word, discriminate, by the way. It’s unfair discrimination that is naughty.) If you all have the same A-levels what’s the point of it being on the form? You might as well tell us that you all have ears.

So how do you not snatch away our hope as we read your applications? In a written application…..drum roll….write well. Please.

Use apostrophes. Know what a comma is for. Spell the words in English rather than Gobbledegook.

Remember this: You want us to envisage you as tenants of our Chambers within a couple of years. Sending out written work to our solicitors with our Chambers name on it. And a shiny corner to make it look nice. If you think for one minute that we would allow that to happen when you don’t know where the apostrophe goes in Magistrates’ Court or don’t know the difference between practice and practise or counsel and council (I kid you not) then please reconsider.

The word “I” should always be capitalised. It’s not an optional extra. You are not texting your m8. Please learn how to spell fulfil. And liaise. And their. And there. And if you could know the difference between “would have” and “would of” that would be nice.

I HATE the word insight. I guarantee that almost every applicant will have had a valuable insight into this, a helpful insight into that, a rare insight of something else. It’s not your fault, its a very useful word. It’s just that everyone uses it to death.

Oh, and please don’t lie. We have got memories and we have had cases where someone’s qualifications seem a little better than remembered. A quick trawl through the computer reveals last year’s application and the changed A-level results are plain to see.

That’s probably enough ranting. How does the system work? After the first sift the top slice are handed to head of pupillage who goes through them all in as much detail. We then invite somewhere in the region of 12-15 people for first interview. Nice and easy. As I say there’s no need to give people a hard time, the best candidates just stand out all by themselves. The agreement between panellists is remarkable; we all see the same things in the best people. There’s always some debate about where the cut goes and on the exact scores that people generated but by and large there are no difficulties in reaching a consensus.

Second interview is a tougher gig. Unarguable propositions to be argued, that sort of thing. We try and have pretty much the same core panel each year for the second interviews as it allows us to compare and contrast not only within that year’s candidates but also with those from previous years. It’s great for putting apparent shortcomings into perspective. What might appear to be a negative doesn’t look so problematic when someone remembers so-and-so from two years ago who created a similar impression and look how well s/he turned out…

We work really hard at it. Most of you do so its only fair and, frankly, its our future. We want the very best people, not just good people. And we are known for keeping our pupils as tenants, even if further refinement is needed. So we have to get it right at this early stage.

At this stage in writing I’ve been through some 20 or so applications. Some are excellent. I have seen countless Magistrates’ Courts with no apostrophes or apostrophes in the wrong place. Say, 40?

I have seen council instead of counsel twice. Three out of 20 people think we’re on the Northern Circuit.
(Incidentally, if you’re going to do a cut and paste job please pay attention. One of my favourite gaffs was a few years ago now. Good application, very good in fact. Hovering above the yes pile until the very last word. “Trinity Chambers is where I want to be, I’ve always wanted to live and work in Wales.” A late snatch of hope that one.)

So what other cock-ups have I seen in the 20 or so applications from today? “Trinity Changers”. My name spelt wrong. It’s only 8 letters for heaven’s sake. Someone who is “clam” in a difficult situation. Someone who wrote only three words in telling us about their hobbies and interests and how they assist the application. Plenty of gibberish. At least 50 insights.

But also some very, very good writing. People with good qualifications who are clearly bright and paid attention to the application. You may know who you are. We think we know who you are. We look forward to meeting you soon.

Improving the odds: how to write a good pupillage application | Daniel Sokol | Law | guardian.co.uk.

Improving the odds: how to write a good pupillage application
Pupillage deadline is imminent. Pupil barrister Daniel Sokol’s main advice is not to be dull

Daniel Sokol
guardian.co.uk, Friday 20 April 2012 12.08 BST

Deadline for pupillage applications is next week. Daniel Sokol offers tops on how to improve your odds

The deadline for pupillage applications is imminent. Thousands are hoping to survive the brutal cull from application to interview. At this stage in the process, the cards have been dealt. It is too late to improve degree results, win a moot, or write an article for the Modern Law Review. As the philosopher said, “if you ain’t got the cards, you ain’t gonna win”. Here are some tips (my personal view) on improving the odds for those with good cards.

My main advice is this: don’t be dull. What makes an application boring is rarely the subject matter – almost anything is interesting if framed appropriately – but a combination of poor style and dry content. Strive for a clear and succinct prose, eloquent but natural. Ironically, a natural style requires much effort. Every sentence, every word, must be carefully chosen. If a word is unnecessary, remove it. If a word is too often repeated, replace it. As a general rule, use the active voice.

One of the most important lessons I have learned during pupillage is attention to detail. Barristers must develop a passion for accuracy. This trait should emerge from the application. After dozens of drafts, when – with heavy eyelids – you are convinced the application can no longer be improved, show it to others. This is no time for timidity or embarrassment. The poet Paul Valéry said that a poem is “never finished, merely abandoned”. Adopt the same mentality with the application.

Ask yourself why the reader should care about what you write. What are you trying to convey? One of my interests was close-up magic. I wanted to include this in my application, but I was aware that, like chess and stamp-collecting, magic suffers from a high geek index. It is also, at first blush, unrelated to the role of barrister. The challenge was to compose a vibrant passage that would impress rather than bore, and explain the relevance of magic to practise at the bar. This was the end result (commentary in square brackets):

“As a semi-professional magician [technical skill], I have performed at balls and weddings [social interaction] but also in the bustling Djamaa al Fna square in Morocco [travelled], hospital wards [link with interest in clinical negligence], rowdy restaurants on Friday nights [real life], children’s parties [warms the frosty heart of the barrister], and, most challenging of all, nursing homes [why so? Stimulates interest]. A good magician must be calm under pressure, possess a flawless technique, and present the effect in a clear, engaging and confident manner. Many of these qualities are common to good barristers [relevance].”

As with submissions to a judge, it is best to start with the strongest points. The most impressive achievements should go first. It is remarkable how often an accomplishment lies buried in the middle of an otherwise dry paragraph. Give your finest achievement pride of place, at or near the top of the section and parade it in its full glory.

Stories are an excellent way to generate interest. They are more memorable than mere statements (“I’m very good at this and that”). In light of the word limit, they must be brief and meaningful. Again, this will take time. Oscar Wilde reportedly started a letter to a friend with this apology: “sorry to write such a long letter; I didn’t have time to write a shorter one”. Prior to the editing stage, amble in the attic of the brain in search of the most appropriate story. In a corner of my attic, I stumbled upon the following trinket which, after much linguistic dusting, appeared in my application:

“Last month [recent event], the guest speaker failed to turn up at a meeting of the Osler Club of London, a medical society founded in 1928 and teeming with eminent clinicians [involvement in medical society, link to interest in clinical negligence]. When it was apparent that the speaker would not appear, I asked the visibly concerned President if he would like me to talk for an hour on a topic of interest [initiative, confidence, willingness to help]. He said yes. I spoke, unprepared, for the allotted time. [ability to improvise, mastery of subject, public speaking]”

The application form is, in part, an exercise in written advocacy. The goal is to persuade the decision-maker, in a few minutes, to place the form in the “interview” pile. If, upon answering a substantive question, you suspect other candidates will have provided a reply of equal quality, think of a better one. The competition is too fierce for average or ordinary answers. Strive for excellence, develop the barrister’s passion for accuracy, and rummage in the attic for diamonds that will sparkle.

Daniel Sokol is a pupil barrister and Honorary Senior Lecturer in Medical Ethics at Imperial College London. He sat on the medical school admissions panel at St George’s, University of London