I May Destroy You - A Criminal Lawyer's Perspective

It was almost mocking of the BBC, as the UK staggered into the final weeks of lockdown, to launch a show so fizzing with the excitement and potential of a night out. Just as the nation was beginning to forget what it was to head out with carefree abandon, guided only by an urge to see where the night might take you, here came Michaela Coel's devastating 'I May Destroy You'.

Devastating for so many reasons but principally in showing how quickly the carefree can be catapulted into confusion and trauma and searching. This show is a must watch for anybody who wants to understand more about what it is to be young, urban, black, female, questing, alive basically.

But for those that work in the criminal justice system this 12 part series offers much, much more than a slice of life and cracking entertainment. Coel's ear for dialogue isn't just good she serves up the kind of verisimilitude that seems born of scribbled notes of conversations actually had. Interactions don't just ring true they sound spoken as if for the first time.

Coel is being profiled the world over right now but the stand out interview with her appeared in The Vulture: https://www.vulture.com/article/michaela-coel-i-may-destroy-you.html. In it she recounts her own experience of sexual assault having been spiked. In the show the same experience repeatedly intrudes upon her character Arabella by way of flashbacks with the perpetrator's face never quite being revealed.

The show is about many things and sex looms very large as a theme but with consent as the real nub of the matter. Hers is not the only narrative. Her friend Terry has a threesome which is cast in a very different light in its immediate aftermath. Her other friend Kwame has a Grindr encounter that begins in consensual activity but concludes with a non-consensual attack. Kwame goes on to experiment with heterosexual sex without disclosing to the woman in question that he is gay. Arabella gets into bed with a professional colleague who removes his condom just before penetration and when caught laughs it off.

This show is like a criminal law lecture on the complexities and nuances of consent. At one end actions that are clearly criminal at the other actions that are morally objectionable but not illegal. Coel does not shy away from the difficult, indeed she seems to relish injecting layer upon layer of complexity arising from sexuality, race and much else besides. This is life as it is, confused, shifting, hard and yet joyful still.

She is fair and she is even handed. She shows two very different police experiences. Hers involves caring, dedicated and professional officers. They can't provide her the answer she is looking for but they explain in simple terms what they can and can't do. Kwame on the other hand tries to make a police complaint and has the misfortune to encounter an officer plainly completely out of his depth and all at sea. The contrast could not more clearly illustrate the importance of having specialist officers assigned to investigating sexual offences.

But the really bold thing Coel does during a reversion to school days episode is show a false rape complaint. It arises as a result of consensual sex that concludes with the boy taking footage of the girl in question without her knowledge and obviously her consent. The author of the complaint is clever, persuasive and profoundly damaged by her own domestic experiences. The complaint involves self-inflicted injury of a type likely to trigger certainty in most that the complaint was real. Interestingly it is Coel's character that exposes the falsehood.

Those of us that work in the system are profoundly aware of its shortcomings and our fallibilities. Likewise we know only too well how difficult it is to extract a reliable narrative as to what transpires in private places when only two people are present. Far too often TV drama insults the intelligence of viewers by burying nuance or obliterating shades of grey with bright white or pitchest black. Not this programme. If your jury have been watching this you now have a golden go to cultural reference whether you're prosecuting or defending. Miss it at your peril.

Uberrima Fides - Full Disclosure

This is a legal doctrine of particular application in relation to insurance contracts. It is Latin for 'utmost good faith', in plain English when you apply for insurance it's all cards on the table or you'll find your claim gets refused.

I'm no fan of insurance companies but I do believe it's a doctrine that could well be applied to other areas of life. It's also a doctrine that lies in total counterpoint to the prevailing ethos of social media. What photo goes unfiltered on Instagram? When I was a child art was curated now entire lives are. Companies had publicists once upon a time, now, we're all publicists.

And so to LinkedIn. Because it's the social media platform closest to money it's also the one where the urge to celebrate successes and gloss over failures is the strongest. Every post is uploaded with 'delight' or 'pride'. If a setback is cited it's only so it can be immediately eclipsed by a tale of how it was or will be overcome.  And you may say what's the point of complaining about that; it's like complaining that the sea is a bit salty.

But I do feel that if this platform is to be of any use to anybody we should be clear about not just what is said but what is left unsaid. When you're looking to brief a barrister don't look at their list of 'Notable cases' ask them to tell you about the case that wakes them up in a cold sweat. A barrister's worst loss is usually more revealing than their best win.

Silence about setbacks and obstacles means one of two things. Either the person doesn't want you to know about them or there weren't any. Both situations are revealing in their own way. Pretending that you've enjoyed nothing but success in life is, first, likely not true but it also robs you of the chance to put your achievements in context. And context is everything.

Commenting on the second scenario I posted this a couple of days back:

You never see LinkedIn posts saying:

Grew up in Chelsea. Mum's a banker, dad's a Q.C. Went to St. Pauls & Cambridge. Can't believe I've got a pupillage at a top commercial chambers first time applying!

It's not a landscape without the foreground.

The reason why you never see that post is that even the most entitled and unempathetic barrister can see how such a post might be received. But just because you don't see that post doesn't mean that candidates of that background aren't winning many pupillages year after year.

This means that if you're new to the law and all you see on LinkedIn are stirring tales of adversity vanquished you would be forgiven for thinking that the Bar was constituted entirely by their authors. This is not, for a second, intended as a criticism of people making such posts. They act as unquestionable inspiration and should be warmly encouraged. But it is important to know the backgrounds of the silent majority.

I believe that if you, like I, have been the beneficiary of privilege it is important to own that. Not so that your achievements can be marked down but so that the context which your privilege automatically makes known to you can be understood by complete newcomers to professional life.

On LinkedIn you should make plain not only where you've got to but also where you came from, especially if that shows that you lucked out.