Judicial
Conference of Australia
Colloquim
- Darwin
31st
May 2003
Judicial
Selection and Training: TwoSides Of The One Coin
Murray
Gleeson
There is a remarkable
contrast between the level of interest taken by governments,
politicians, commentators, and the members of the public,
in two topics.
The first is
the policy and process adopted by governments when they
appoint judges. This is an interesting subject, on which
many people hold strong opinions. Some complain of the
lack of gender, ethnic, geographical, or other forms of
diversity in the judiciary. Some criticise the present
system as inequitable, giving unfair preference to a small
group. Some see it as inefficient, failing to make the
best use of all available talent. The issue has political
significance. Proposals to change methods of judicial appointment
appeal to voters. In a number of Australian States, judicial
vacancies are now advertised, and expressions of interest
solicited. It may be only a matter of time before it becomes
necessary for people who want to be considered for appointment,
even to some of the highest judicial offices, to appear
before selection panels to display their professional and
ideological credentials. Perhaps this will only mean that
governments will take as much care in appointing members
of the selection panels as they now take in appointing judges.
The capacity to control or influence the selection of judges
is regarded, on all sides of politics, as an important aspect
of governmental power. It would be surprising to see it
given away. However, governments like to be seen to be
progressive, even if there is no general agreement as to
what kind of change constitutes progress.
The second topic
is that of judicial education: training newly appointed
judges and magistrates, and providing for their continuing
professional development. There are absolutely no votes
in this subject. It is without electoral sex appeal. It
is a topic of interest and concern to some members of the
judiciary, a handful of lawyers and law teachers, and practically
nobody else. With a few honourable exceptions, politicians
and government officials ignore it completely. It rarely
engages the attention of the media.
The reason why
the contrast is remarkable is that, in truth, the two topics
are closely related. But the relationship seems to have
escaped attention. People who propose changes in the method
by which judges are selected, without having any knowledge
or ideas about their training or professional development,
are beating the air. Whether or not any specific change
in methods of judicial appointment is worthwhile may be
contestable. It is not my purpose to argue about that.
One thing, however, is clear. Significant and long-term
(as distinct from cosmetic) change is impossible without
progress in developing facilities for judicial education.
One of the main
differences between the administration of justice in common
law and civil law countries is in the background, training
and appointment of judges. In countries with a civil law
tradition, being a magistrate or judge is a career upon
which lawyers ordinarily embark at the beginning at their
professional lives, and in which they remain until the end.
Young lawyers are trained to be judges, and they progress
upon a career path within the judiciary. Judges rarely
sit alone: they sit in panels, which often include some
who, by our standards, are remarkably youthful. (A recently
published Code of Conduct for Chinese judges admonishes
them to keep their judicial uniforms clean and tidy). Judicial
promotion is not the exception; it is the rule. Often,
this is a career path shared with prosecutors, but that
matter, although important for another reason, is presently
irrelevant. In such countries, lawyers who intend to enter
the practising profession undergo a different system of
training, and, although in some places there are moves to
recruit more judges from within the profession, practitioners
rarely take up judicial office.
The common law
tradition is different. In England, and in other jurisdictions
with a divided legal profession, there has always been a
close association between Bench and Bar. With occasional
exceptions, most judges, especially members of the senior
judiciary, are appointed, usually in middle age, from the
ranks of experienced barristers. In the past, professional
experience has been regarded as the primary qualification
for judicial appointment. Not all successful barristers
wanted to be judges, but, among those who did, professional
eminence was regarded as a good practical guide to suitability
for judicial office. It has never been thought to be infallible.
No one ever professed to believe that all good barristers
would make good judges. And there were some outstanding
judges who had not been particularly successful at the Bar.
But it was seen as the best way of identifying prospective
judicial talent.
The common law
system of judicial recruitment has advantages and disadvantages.
One major advantage is its contribution to a spirit of judicial
independence. Judges have never regarded themselves as
public servants. People who have made a career as independent
advocates, functioning without employers or even partners,
find it easy, and natural, following judicial appointment,
to maintain their independence of the executive government.
It should not be assumed that governments are always unequivocally
pleased by that independence; but it is a fundamental constitutional
value in our society. It is taken for granted. One reason
for that is the professional background from which judges
are chosen. The status and independence of the judiciary
in common law countries owes a good deal to the fact that
judges have historically been appointed from within the
legal profession, and that many successful lawyers have
regarded it as a privilege to be offered judicial office,
even if that involved a large drop in income. Another practical
advantage of the system, from the point of view of governments,
was that it made it unnecessary to spend money on training
newly appointed judges. Most people appointed to judicial
office had spent a substantial part of a professional lifetime
appearing regularly as advocates in courts. They were familiar
with the rules of procedure and evidence, and the trial
and appeal processes. They understood the ways of litigants
and advocates. It was assumed that their professional experience
equipped them to take on the task of judging without any
need for formal instruction. This relieved governments of
the need to pay for their training and continuing education.
A further benefit is that common law countries make do with
far fewer judges than civil law countries. Our trial judges
sit alone and in civil cases this is usually without a jury.
Civil law judges, even at first instance, sit in groups
of three or five. When I last checked the numbers, France
had eight times as many judges per head of population as
Australia. The extent to which governments in common law
countries save money by using the Bar as the principal source
of judicial training and recruitment has never been acknowledged.
One of the disadvantages
of the common law system, which has attracted increasing
attention in recent years, flows from the fact that judges
reflect the characteristics of the group from which they
are drawn. That group is somewhat homogenous, in both the
Latin and the Greek senses.
When I entered
practice in New South Wales in 1963, most judges had previously
been barristers. They were all male. Few solicitors, or
law teachers, would have contemplated the possibility of,
or wanted, judicial appointment. It was unlikely that they
would be familiar with the rules of procedure or evidence,
and most would not have had any experience of litigation.
If such a person had been appointed, then he or she would
have been offered no form of instruction to overcome that
practical difficulty. That was a major impediment to the
appointment of solicitors or law teachers as judges. It
was both a cause and an effect of the Bar's practical monopoly
on judicial appointments. It is impossible to understand
that monopoly without relating it to the absence of arrangements
for judicial training and development.
When I was Chief
Justice of the Supreme Court of New South Wales, I sat mainly
in the Court of Appeal and the Court of Criminal Appeal.
However, I also made a point of sitting at first instance
in most areas of the Court's work, including civil and criminal
jury trials. This was possible only because I had appeared,
as a barrister, in cases of that kind. I would not have
attempted it without that experience. Criminal jury trials
form a routine part of the work of most of Australia's judges.
Conducting such a trial can be like walking on egg shells.
The trial judge cannot adjourn to consult a textbook every
time a point of procedure or evidence arises, and a wrong
ruling might result in a mistrial. It must be extraordinarily
difficult for a person who has not had substantial experience
in advocacy, or been given the benefit of appropriate training
and instruction, to take up work of that kind. Trial judges,
of course, are equipped with Bench Books and similar aids,
but these are usually prepared on the assumption that the
reader already has a fund of knowledge based on practical
experience. It would be impossible to take even the most
outstanding new graduate from law school, and send him or
her off on circuit to conduct criminal trials equipped only
with a Bench Book and a store of self confidence. I hesitate
to think of what some of the trial lawyers I know would
do to a person like that.
I am not seeking
to advocate the retention of the Bar's absolute monopoly
on judicial appointment. My point is different; and one
that has largely been ignored by people who profess to be
interested in breaking down that monopoly. It is that,
historically, the monopoly has been protected by the lack
of proper arrangements for judicial training and development.
Real change, as distinct from window-dressing, in the one
area, requires real progress in the other.
The point is
reinforced by considering what goes on in those common law
jurisdictions where, historically, the Bar has not dominated
judicial appointments. In North America, there has never
been a divided profession, and the tradition of specialisation
in advocacy by a distinct and separate group of practitioners
does not exist. Both in the United States, and in Canada,
there is a long history of appointment of law teachers to
judicial office. In many of the state jurisdictions in
the United States, judges are elected. Many of the candidates
for election are not experienced trial lawyers. However,
it has long been recognised in North America that, if people
are to be appointed to the Bench without practical experience
in advocacy in trial or appeal courts, they need training
as judges. No matter how learned and intelligent a lawyer
might be, if he or she is appointed a trial judge without
experience in the conduct of litigation, then the task of
managing a civil or criminal trial, especially a complex
trial, is extremely difficult. Consequently, in both the
United States and Canada, Institutes of Judicial Education,
well-funded and providing formal programmes of orientation
and on-going training and development, are an established
part of the judicial system. Governments in Australia,
in the past, have avoided that issue by relying on the Bar
to train their prospective judges. This has saved them
trouble and expense. If governments want to reduce that
reliance, then they need to find an alternative way to train
judges. Until they do that, experienced barristers will
always have a huge advantage in any selection process that
is seriously based upon merit. There is plenty of room
for argument about what constitutes merit in judicial selection.
But, if it means nothing else, it must at least include
the capacity to preside over adversarial litigation, conduct
the proceedings with reasonable efficiency, and produce
a well-reasoned judgment at the end.
Until relatively
recently, magistrates were part of the public service.
They were recruited from within the public service. Most
had obtained their qualifications by working as officers
in the Courts of Petty Sessions. That was a form of practical
training. Nowadays, magistrates have achieved structural
independence from the executive government, and most are
appointed from outside the public service; principally from
the practising profession. Many of them are people who
have previously been solicitors, rather than professional
advocates. Appointing, as magistrates, people who have
not had in-service training, raises the same issue. Recruitment
and training are two sides of the one coin.
In England,
and in Australia, many people say they want to see judges
appointed from a wider pool. Although the Bar is less male-dominated
than it was 40 years ago, the numbers of women who reach
the top of the profession are still relatively modest compared
with the numbers of women who enter law school. The fact
is that, although the position is gradually improving, women
are still under-represented in the senior ranks of the Bar.
Other forms of lack of diversity also attract criticism.
Governments now recognise that there are solicitors who,
given the opportunity, would make good judges. The same
applies to law teachers. There is understandable pressure
to widen the gene pool.
On balance,
this is a good thing. Provided it is done properly, widening
the range of persons from whom judges and magistrates are
recruited will increase the vitality and strength of the
judiciary. But it cannot be done successfully unless attention
is paid to the reason why, for so long, so much preference
has been given to practising barristers.
In recent years,
a good deal of effort has gone into the production of lists
of qualities that ought to be possessed by candidates for
judicial appointment. I do not wish to under-estimate the
importance of some of the qualities that appear on those
lists, but it is necessary to keep in mind that there are
certain basic skills that are also required. They may not
be sufficient to make a good judge; but they are necessary.
These include, for example, an ability to write reasons
for judgment. That skill is not taught at law school, and
is not required of the majority of practising lawyers, or
law teachers. Advocates, in the ordinary course of their
practice, become familiar with what is involved in the preparation
of reasons for judgment. Their arguments are largely directed
towards encouraging judges to write reasons in a particular
way, and they are constantly required to scrutinise reasons
for judgment in order to advise upon the prospects of success
of an appeal, or in order to conduct an appeal. This skill
can be taught, as well as acquired by experience. But it
cannot be ignored.
This is something
we can learn from civil law jurisdictions, and from North
American common law jurisdictions, where there has never
been the intimate relationship between bench and bar with
which we are familiar. We are learning; but the message
has still not reached a wide audience.
There are additional
reasons why judicial training and development should be
a subject of wider concern.
The increasing
specialisation of legal practice means that old assumptions
about the breadth of the experience of professional advocates
are no longer valid. How many modern barristers, before
being appointed to a trial court of general jurisdiction,
or an appellate tribunal that hears appeals from such a
court, will have appeared in anything like the full range
of matters that come before the court? Many barristers
find, upon judicial appointment, that much of the work they
are required to do is outside their range of experience.
How many barristers appointed to the Federal Court have
ever been involved in a refugee case? A specialist in revenue
law might never have handled an intellectual property dispute.
A specialist in personal injury cases at the bar, appointed
to the Common Law Division of the Supreme Court of New South
Wales, will be listed routinely to sit on major criminal
trials, perhaps without recent criminal trial experience.
And such a barrister is unlikely to have any familiarity
with bail applications.
Furthermore,
litigation is increasing in complexity. The range of cases
that come before courts is as wide as the range of disputes
that can arise between citizens, or between citizens and
governments. Modern judges are required to deal with complex
and technical issues that can leave them at the mercy of
experts. One of the questions to be addressed by judicial
educators is whether judges, or at least judges who sit
in particular jurisdictions, should receive specialist training
to equip them better to assess evidence, including expert
evidence. This is not the occasion to go into that question;
but I raise it to indicate that the context in which judges
operate is changing in ways that call for an educational
response. One of the challenges facing the judiciary is
to identify those changes, and design the appropriate response.
There has been
educational response from the Australian judiciary over
the last 15 years, but it has attracted little interest
on the part of governments or the legal profession, and
virtually no public attention.
In England,
the Judicial Studies Board was established in 1979. It
provides a formal and comprehensive programme of induction
and professional development for judges. In New South Wales,
the Judicial Commission was established in 1986. One of
its principal functions is to provide judicial orientation
and training for magistrates and judges of all courts in
New South Wales. In recent years, in conjunction with the
Australian Institute of Judicial Administration, it has
conducted an orientation programme for newly appointed judges
from all Australian jurisdictions. Judges from overseas
have attended those courses. In an article in 1993, Professor
Sallmann described the Judicial Commission of New South
Wales as "(the) Rolls Royce of judicial education bodies
in Australia". Over the years since its establishment,
the range of services it has provided to judges and magistrates
has expanded greatly. In co-operation with the Education
Committees of all the New South Wales courts it conducts
impressive programmes, and these will, no doubt, continue
to expand and develop. But how much of its work is known
outside the judiciary?
In 2002, the
Judicial College of Victoria was established.
Australia now
has a National Judicial College, established in 2002. It
seems that it has not yet achieved the critical mass necessary
for its acceptance and success. There is a small budget
of $380,000 per annum compared to the budget of the Judicial
Commission of New South Wales of $4.2M. It is supported
by the Commonwealth Government, and a number of state governments,
but not by some other state governments.
Courts in all
Australian jurisdictions have now developed their own programmes
of judicial development. The progress that has been made
in this area is a notable, even if largely unrecognised,
achievement. But there is a great deal of scope for further
development. The orientation courses that are provided
are a major improvement on the past; but there is enormous
potential for their expansion. And, although the Australian
judiciary has embraced the idea of continuing professional
development, the range of topics that could usefully be
addressed could be expanded well beyond those that are now
covered. Within the judiciary there are educators with
experience and imagination who, given the necessary support
and encouragement, could devise more ambitious and comprehensive
training schemes, to meet the needs of the Australian judiciary
into the twenty-first century. Consider the challenges
that are ahead of us. Legislation will expand at an even
greater rate, and become increasingly complex and technical.
Advocates will become more and more specialised, and judges
will be required to match their expertise. Expert witnesses,
whose evidence judges will be required to evaluate, will
assume an increasingly important role, and the mastering
of complex litigation will require judicial skills of a
higher order.
Experience in
Australia, and in the United Kingdom and North America,
has shown that programmes of judicial training and continuing
professional development will only be successful under certain
conditions. Notwithstanding the enthusiasm of some for
sending judicial officers off for re-education along the
lines of the Cultural Revolution, with a view to instilling
in them ideologically sound habits of thought, the unromantic
truth is that it is more important to ensure that new judges
and magistrates know the rules of procedure and evidence,
and how to write a judgment. And needs for continuing education
are largely shaped by the requirements of the particular
court to which a person is appointed. Judicial officers,
once appointed, cannot be compelled to learn anything.
Evaluating their educational needs is itself a skilled task,
as that of the growing class of judicial educators in common
law countries, including Australia. Serving and retired
judges are major contributors to work in judicial training
institutes. They represent a valuable resource upon which
governments are able to draw. Judges respond much better
where programmes are designed with substantial input from
experienced colleagues and former colleagues. At the same
time, professional teachers themselves bring a specialist
skill to judicial training. The most successful institutes
are those which best combine the contributions of judges
and professional educators.
It is important
that the judiciary should accept that continuing education
is part of the job. Judges value their independence, and
are quick to react against any form of pedagogical influence.
They are well aware that there are those who would treat
professional development as an opportunity for indoctrination.
Much depends upon maintaining their confidence. That requires
that institutes of judicial training share the independence
of the judiciary. Obtaining financial support from governments
for bodies that are independent of government control, or
even influence, is not easy. In fact, it is one of the
most difficult arts of practical politics. But it is a
challenge the judiciary must accept. To do that, we need
to inform governments, and the public, about the issues
and about what is at stake.
The acceptance
of the need for judicial education in Australia is growing,
but it has a long way to go. There was some early resistance
within the judiciary but that, I believe, has disappeared.
Some judges were concerned that programmes of judicial training
would be used for inappropriate proselytisation; a concern
that was heightened by pressure from some sections of the
community for programmes to cultivate in judges attitudes
reflecting the prevailing enthusiasm of the day.
What is missing
however, amongst governments, the profession, the public,
and even some members of the judiciary, is an appreciation
of the connection between judicial training and development,
on the one hand, and changes in policies and practices concerning
judicial appointment.
Outside the
ranks of experienced advocates the sort of people that governments
might want to appoint to judicial office would be very reluctant
to accept such appointment unless proper arrangements are
made to equip them to perform the task. Even among experienced
advocates, these days, such arrangements are necessary,
but they are doubly necessary in the case of others. The
success of any programme that has its object widening of
the pool from which judges are drawn depends upon the existence
of adequate facilities for judicial training and continuing
professional development.
Let me return
to the matter of the National Judicial College. It has
the potential to become a major force in the Australian
judiciary of the twenty-first century. I emphasise that
it is national, not federal. There is a good reason for
this.
In the United
States, the federal judiciary has a long history which separates
it from the state judiciaries. Federal judges are appointed,
not elected; and they hold office for life. In many states,
judges are elected. The process of election can involve
campaigns by supporters and opponents of candidates. It
is completely foreign to our method of judicial appointment.
The federal judiciary is large, and supported by an enormous
administrative apparatus. Federal judges deal with criminal,
as well as civil, cases. Within the federal judiciary there
is a highly developed appellate structure. Federal and
state judges have their own, separate, training and educational
arrangements.
In Australia,
until the mid-1970's, the federal judiciary was very small.
The exercise of federal jurisdiction was largely entrusted
to state judges. Apart from the High Court, and a small
number of specialist courts (principally in the areas of
industrial law and bankruptcy) there were no federal judges.
At that time, our Constitution also required that all federal
judges be appointed for life. That, I am sure, is one reason
why there were so few of them. With the amendment of that
Constitutional provision, and the creation of the Federal
Court and the Family Court, the federal judiciary expanded.
But, even today, the States of New South Wales, Victoria
and Queensland appoint more judges than the Commonwealth
Government.
In Australia,
movement between the federal and state judiciaries is common.
Five of the present members of the High Court were formerly
members of State Courts of Appeal. A number of judges of
the Federal Court were formerly judges of State Supreme
Courts. One of the members of the New South Wales Court
of Appeal came to that Court from the Federal Court. Moreover,
because of a difference in ages of compulsory retirement,
an acting appointment to the Supreme Court of New South
Wales is now a standard method of easing the passing of
Federal Court judges who happen to live in that State.
Furthermore,
there is a movement between State judiciaries. One of the
present members of the Court of Appeal of New South Wales
came to that Court from the Supreme Court of Western Australia.
In a recent case, the New South Wales Court of Appeal was
constituted by the Chief Justice of Western Australia, and
Judges of Appeal from Victoria and Queensland. In the last
10 years there have been a series of exchanges between the
Supreme Court of New South Wales and the Northern Territory.
I hope that, over time, this valuable form of cross-fertilisation
will increase.
Federal and
State judges mix regularly in professional associations,
such as the Judicial Conference of Australia. In all parts
of Australia, they come from virtually identical professional
backgrounds. In the States other than New South Wales and
Victoria, the numbers of federal judges are relatively small,
and, inevitably, they associate as much with their State
colleagues as with other federal judges.
As a result,
the Australian judiciary is much more cohesive than that
of the United States. This should be a source of strength,
if we make proper use of it. The annual conference of judges
from the Federal Court and the State and Territory Supreme
Courts has, for many years, been a national force for the
continuing legal education of judges. This Judicial Conference
is an offspring of that annual meeting. Although we are
a federal nation, we have a national spirit in our judiciary.
We should foster that, and take advantage of the benefits
it has to offer.
The National
Judicial College provides one such an opportunity. Its
governing body is representative of federal and state jurisdictions.
Its Chairman is a State Chief Justice. It has the support
of the federal government and the federal judiciary. It
has the support and active cooperation of the Judicial Commission
of New South Wales. Its establishment was fostered by the
Council of Chief Justices of Australia and New Zealand,
and the Australian Institute of Judicial Administration.
It ought to be able to draw on the experience and talents
of judges and judicial educators through the Commonwealth;
and it ought to be in a position to service all judiciaries
in the Commonwealth. Additionally, it ought to be in a
position to represent Australia in the increasingly significant
developments in judicial training that are taking place
internationally.
I have no difficulty
understanding the desire of governments to look for judicial
talent beyond the group of experienced barristers who have,
in the past, held a virtual monopoly on judicial appointment.
But governments, and the public, need to face up to the
fact that the narrow group from which judges were previously
appointed brought certain advantages, including significant
cost advantages. Governments did not need to provide them
with formal training in order to equip them with the basic
skills necessary to perform the judicial task. But, for
reasons I have ready given, the assumption that experienced
barristers require no judicial training can no longer safely
be made. The days when governments could act on the basis
that, unlike their counterparts in civil law jurisdictions,
judges required no training or continuing professional development,
are gone. The trend towards increasing recruitment of judicial
officers from outside the ranks of experienced advocates
is not the only reason why that is so, but it makes the
need for appropriate systems of judicial education more
obvious and more urgent.
The time has
come for the matter of judicial training and continuing
legal education to be taken up by all governments that appoint
judges and magistrates as an issue of lively interest.
It is up to judges to raise the level of public interest
in that subject. The Judicial Conference has a key role
to play.