When I recently attended the second ever women lawyers conference at the Law Society's august building in Chancery Lane, in the heart of legal London, I was asked to "deal with" the press. This consisted of one telephone interview with a local radio station. (Others to whom I offered the benefit of my comments did not seem interested.)
The local radio presenter, however, quite pugnaciously asked a question which has since come up on several occasions in conversation with other lawyers: Why have a women lawyers conference? Isn't all that sort of thing outdated? In the cramped quarters of the telephone box at the Law Society, I defended "our" patch. Of course it was ne- cessary to have a women's conference. Women had been treated as second class citizens in the law ever since I could remember. Where are the women in high office? There was still not a single female Law Lord, and only one Lady Justice (who had to be addressed as Lord Justice when first appointed). Why were only four women made QCs this Easter? There were 64 males selected for silk.
"Look," I opined from the sweaty confine of my telephone booth. (It was a boiling hot day and the heating system in the Law Society building was still switched on to full.) "We women have to stick together. We are sick of seeing mediocre and even downright incompetent men in the corridors of power. Sure, exceptional women have got to the top. Look at Maggie Thatcher and Barbara Mills, the present director of public prosecutions; but why can't we have some average women in top positions? Why do we have to abandon our babies, toddlers and vulnerable school children to nannies, minders and boarding schools in order to avoid losing our fragile footholds on the ladder of success? It just isn't fair. And look at the huge waste of talent and training of women of my generation who never got their feet on the bottom rung at all."
Having thus defended our patch, I resumed my seat in the body of the splendid hall, and between wondering whether the pillars were real or fake marble, I attempted to concentrate on the well-meaning but mainly self-congratulatory speakers on the platform.
The local radio guy must have been a David Frost in the making, because he set me on a course of re-assessment, re-adjustment and eventually a change of conviction which was sealed in a conversation with Frank Goddard, a wonderfully down-to-earth 30-year-old solicitor, friend and client, who had just been made a partner in his firm.
In questioning the need for women's networking organisations, such as the one we had so recently attended, he made it clear that he viewed his women colleagues as completely equal. Not from him, and indeed the other civilised, able and attractive young men in my own organisation, a new set of barristers chambers I run in Exeter, would I detect a trace of resentment at working with and for a senior woman. In fact, I thought, my own support has frequently come from the males in my life, both at home and at work. Has the wheel finally taken a full turn? Has the glass ceiling simply dissolved? In a year when the Equal Opportunities Commission had a record number of men claiming discrimination in the work place and when the current issue of New Woman contains a feature expounding the allure of powerful women to the very men who previously felt so threatened by us, can it be safe to think: "Let's forget about sexism, harassment and sheer old-fashioned male prejudice and just get on with our lives?" This would certainly be my choice. The successful 30-year-old males of today who are in professions such as the law and the media are too concerned with competing in an overpopulated job market to waste time on destructive and anti-social misogynism. It cannot be long before the last remaining bastions of prejudice such as the Garrick Club, the Law Lords and even, dare I say it, the Roman Catholic priesthood, open their doors to women, not so much because women are battering at them from outside—but because the new generation of liberated men within them no longer wish to closet themselves away in a strictly male environment. Our new men want their women as equal partners at home, as parents, in the work place and in bed.
One of the best women networks in London now encourages male members. I must say that their meetings get my vote for the most enjoyable. Now forgive me, I must rush to get ready for a day in Court, clad in a black jacket, white shirt and pinstriped trousers. Yes, thanks to one of the many enlightened pronouncements of Lord Taylor when Lord Chief Justice of England, we women barristers are now permitted to wear trousers in Court. Nor did he shrink from serving me at table when I recently found myself seated opposite him after a student debate in the Inner Temple.
The local radio presenter, however, quite pugnaciously asked a question which has since come up on several occasions in conversation with other lawyers: Why have a women lawyers conference? Isn't all that sort of thing outdated? In the cramped quarters of the telephone box at the Law Society, I defended "our" patch. Of course it was ne- cessary to have a women's conference. Women had been treated as second class citizens in the law ever since I could remember. Where are the women in high office? There was still not a single female Law Lord, and only one Lady Justice (who had to be addressed as Lord Justice when first appointed). Why were only four women made QCs this Easter? There were 64 males selected for silk.
"Look," I opined from the sweaty confine of my telephone booth. (It was a boiling hot day and the heating system in the Law Society building was still switched on to full.) "We women have to stick together. We are sick of seeing mediocre and even downright incompetent men in the corridors of power. Sure, exceptional women have got to the top. Look at Maggie Thatcher and Barbara Mills, the present director of public prosecutions; but why can't we have some average women in top positions? Why do we have to abandon our babies, toddlers and vulnerable school children to nannies, minders and boarding schools in order to avoid losing our fragile footholds on the ladder of success? It just isn't fair. And look at the huge waste of talent and training of women of my generation who never got their feet on the bottom rung at all."
Having thus defended our patch, I resumed my seat in the body of the splendid hall, and between wondering whether the pillars were real or fake marble, I attempted to concentrate on the well-meaning but mainly self-congratulatory speakers on the platform.
The local radio guy must have been a David Frost in the making, because he set me on a course of re-assessment, re-adjustment and eventually a change of conviction which was sealed in a conversation with Frank Goddard, a wonderfully down-to-earth 30-year-old solicitor, friend and client, who had just been made a partner in his firm.
In questioning the need for women's networking organisations, such as the one we had so recently attended, he made it clear that he viewed his women colleagues as completely equal. Not from him, and indeed the other civilised, able and attractive young men in my own organisation, a new set of barristers chambers I run in Exeter, would I detect a trace of resentment at working with and for a senior woman. In fact, I thought, my own support has frequently come from the males in my life, both at home and at work. Has the wheel finally taken a full turn? Has the glass ceiling simply dissolved? In a year when the Equal Opportunities Commission had a record number of men claiming discrimination in the work place and when the current issue of New Woman contains a feature expounding the allure of powerful women to the very men who previously felt so threatened by us, can it be safe to think: "Let's forget about sexism, harassment and sheer old-fashioned male prejudice and just get on with our lives?" This would certainly be my choice. The successful 30-year-old males of today who are in professions such as the law and the media are too concerned with competing in an overpopulated job market to waste time on destructive and anti-social misogynism. It cannot be long before the last remaining bastions of prejudice such as the Garrick Club, the Law Lords and even, dare I say it, the Roman Catholic priesthood, open their doors to women, not so much because women are battering at them from outside—but because the new generation of liberated men within them no longer wish to closet themselves away in a strictly male environment. Our new men want their women as equal partners at home, as parents, in the work place and in bed.
One of the best women networks in London now encourages male members. I must say that their meetings get my vote for the most enjoyable. Now forgive me, I must rush to get ready for a day in Court, clad in a black jacket, white shirt and pinstriped trousers. Yes, thanks to one of the many enlightened pronouncements of Lord Taylor when Lord Chief Justice of England, we women barristers are now permitted to wear trousers in Court. Nor did he shrink from serving me at table when I recently found myself seated opposite him after a student debate in the Inner Temple.
