Depression can strike anyone, anywhere. High functioning professionals are not immune. This article considers the prevalence of depression among barristers.
What would you say if I told you the depression rate among Australian barristers is more than twice that of the general population?
‘Good’ is not
the appropriate retort. Acceptable replies are ‘crumbs’, ‘crikey’ or ‘struth’.
An even better response is ‘why?'
As a member
of the criminal bar I can answer the question in part. I can’t speak for the civil
bar elite; those gentlefolk who earn well and enjoy lunches that last days and cost
the equivalent of Guinea’s GDP. They may suffer depression like the rest of us
or perhaps they pay to have the black dog chained outside and whipped. Who can
say? Certainly not me.
If criminal practice where a country it would be a flat, colourless place where bad
things happen - think the Netherlands, May 1940 – and the citizens dress for
mourning, suffer dull eyes and bad skin.
How could it
be otherwise when practitioners are daily submerged in misery, performing the
last acts of plays about the broken and the dead? The constant exposure to
tales of life in an imperfect and unforgiving world has a cumulative effect.
Perhaps that is why barristers over 50 report the highest rates of depression.
Psychologists
call this secondary trauma. They say exposure to details of crimes, traumatic
events, suffering and the loss felt by clients has a real impact on lawyers. These
factors are especially present in criminal and family law matters.
Other causes
are:
- the isolated and isolating nature of the work;
- pressure arising from tensions between ethical conduct and a client’s interests;
- uncertain outcomes;
- financial pressure from inconsistent income; and,
- bullying by colleagues and judges.
Not to
mention the crippling imperative to sometimes defend the indefensible; to act
on instructions, for an unreasonable client, in the face of overwhelming
prosecution evidence.
The pressure
of the profession is not a new phenomenon. Once, when the criminal bar
consisted mostly of smart but slightly shabby men, counsel would take comfort
in the company of their own kind. Drinking. Lying. Making light of the whole
bloody mess. Abusing alcohol after work was common, during work less so but it
did happen. It was unhealthy and the bar is rank with tales of promising
counsel burned out in sad and sometimes public circumstances; or of those
older, broken-down counsel who had ‘showed such promise’. Still the drinking
was accepted, even celebrated and it remains today. But it was and is part of
the problem rather than the solution.
Today,
self-destructive behaviours persist. Alcohol and substance abuse the main
issues. But times have changed. The profession acknowledges the problems and
the danger associated with mental ill-health and substance abuse. Lives are
threatened. Just like cancer or heart disease, depression and substance abuse can
kill you stone dead.
Some state
bar associations now offer information and support for troubled counsel. In New South Wales and Queensland this includes a free initial consultation with a psychologist or
counsellor. Sometimes such intervention helps; sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes
the best hope lies with colleagues, family and friends. Those soles brave enough
to care in a profession that still rewards toughness, a toughness that is
sometimes beyond the capacity of its practitioners.
So, care for
yourself and others. Seek help if you need it and be brave enough to ask your mates ‘are you OK?’
If this post raises concerns beyond the usual grammatical and spelling errors, please seek help. Contact your state's bar association or try RUOK. www.ruok.org.au/
If this post raises concerns beyond the usual grammatical and spelling errors, please seek help. Contact your state's bar association or try RUOK. www.ruok.org.au/
Interesting
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