I am what’s “lovingly” referred to as a geriatric millennial. A quick Google search reveals that this is a category of older millennial-mid 30s and above. Google, which no doubt has collated the flattering remarks of Gen Z, suggests that I am of a generation that came into age with the widespread launch of the internet and the first generation to live with social media like we now live with Covid.

Somehow, I didn’t get the memo. I don’t know if it is the fact that I grew up in a remote part of India where dial up took about 30 minutes to get going or the fact that I am dyslexic/dyspraxic and can’t quite tell my command from my shift. Either way manoeuvring technology is not my forte. I was a photography student at a time when great strides were being made in digital technology and yet day in-day out, I sat in a dark room sniffing chemicals in the name of my artistic trade. If the question were ..do you need to be tech savvy in order to survive as a photographer? The answer undoubtedly would be yes. However, the considerations are different. For a photographer cost is the biggest consideration.

For barristers, however grasping technology is a two-pronged consideration. Firstly, can you have a practice if you cannot utilise technology? This is especially relevant in the age of Covid. Secondly and most importantly can you have an illustrious legal career without a social media presence?

I don’t want to dwell too long on the first question as I think it’s an obvious answer. I’m sure it is practice dependant but at the very least a minimal understanding of technology is needed. Whether that’s having the savvy to work CVP (full disclosure, the first time I tried, I failed) or to use Microsoft Office to type up your applications. I do know judges who work entirely on paper and everyone runs around bypassing “court’s door” to print out bundles. The kerfuffle such a request causes is amusing in itself. What is clear though is if we don’t familiarise ourselves with the requisite technology, one can end up making submissions through a cat filter.

The question I like to ponder however is how important, if at all, is a social media presence to one’s legal career? And if you do have one, where do we draw the line? There are those superstar/celebrity Twitter barristers who have such a far reach that they have obscure indie bands to politicians following them. Some, though not all, use that far reach to shine a light on the plight of the criminal justice system. Some do it for no personal recognition because they remain anonymous. Yet even if we take away the personal praise, Secret Barrister is nonetheless reaping an award of his/her Twitter presence in sale of his/her books (not a criticism!).

The rest of the barristers post a combination of personal anecdotes with their opinions on law and politics. Though there are strict ethical rules about the manner in which we present ourselves, every so often a barrister has fallen foul of those rules on social media. Though rarely has it resulted in being disbarred it can lead to other detriments. I am in particular reminded of Mr Holbrook, whose comments on equality and Afro-natural hair resulted in his chambers asking him to leave. Some barristers have had litigation brought against them and others have dealt with misogyny and “pile ons”, both from inside and outside the profession. The Online Safety Bill is apparently also considering criminalising psychological harm caused by online trolling. Reports of this provision label it as criminalising “Twitter pile ons”. Only time will tell exactly what will legally constitute as “pile ons” or what the threshold for harm will be but “pile-ons” are a particularly interesting beast as the outrage often comes from a justified place. Someone will do or say something wrong and then everyone will be collectively outraged. Legal Twitter is no exception to displaying this outrage. However, there is a higher expectation that we conduct ourselves with decorum and restraint than that that we place on ordinary society.

But that’s enough of the cautionary tales. What about the positives?

Joanna Hardy, Alexandra Wilson, Daniel Barret et all have a following in the thousands and each of them have equally successful careers at the Bar. Of course, I am not suggesting that their talent isn’t a reason for this, but to newcomers, such as myself, it does make you wonder if a successful career can be had without the publicity? Should a legal career be supplemented by a social media presence? Browse through the contributions on Counsel and they are often from prolific Twitter barristers

I am a cautious tweeter. I dilly dally between the controversial and the mundane. I have written and deleted so many tweets I could call myself a professional moderator. Yet some of my most “liked” tweets have been deeply personal and often critical of the elitism of my profession. Other times no one notices me and sometimes samosas are simply the content the legal world needed. I’m left wondering whether I need to be bold and speak my mind on controversial subjects or whether I exercise caution.

One thing is sure that I spend more time thinking about my tweets than tweeting. While that may be a throw away statement, I have on occasion suffered from anxiety or depression about social media. My tweets about getting pupillage or being called to the Bar received few likes and I always feel a sense of rejection when I see others get likes in the thousands. When I post something that gets no attention I wonder if I said something wrong, committed an ethical offence or I am simply not liked by my peers.  

I then consider deleting my profile all together but every time I go to do so I hesitate.

My mentor and friend, Anthony Metzer QC and I, have often discussed social media. We’ve considered the pitfalls of social media and Tony once told me how he considered joining Twitter. He decided to abstain for the very same reasons I worry about. Can your social media presence leave you in breach of your duties? Can your opinions render you, or be seen to render you, unable to act without bias? I like to think I function in some sort of middle ground but I am acutely aware that those gathering momentum are those who boldly tweet away. It’s not that I don’t have opinions, but I voice them offline rather than online.

I recall Dylan Moran doing a bit on tech in his great stand up show Monster; Someone told him to get online to stay up-to-date, to which he replied “how can I get any more up-to-date. I’m alive now that’s pretty current”. If Tony has shown me anything it is that one can be a highly revered, successful barrister and a champion of diversity without being on social media. In Tony’s case the quality of his deeds speak louder that his tweets. And yet I would have never known him if it weren’t for me being on legal Twitter. I was referred a few times by barristers on Twitter until I met Tony. I met several barristers though social media who championed me and supported my ambitions. Would I even be here without legal Twitter?

So here I am. Stuck in a constant loop between my geriatric-ness and my millennial-ness, every time I go to delete my Twitter account I think, I need to stay current. I am here live, I am not a cat! But who will know that if I don’t tweet?