According to the beloved Law Society publication, LawTalk, there were 16,401 lawyers as of 30 June 2022. It means one of every 326 people in New Zealand may have access to information they otherwise wouldn’t.
More on the annual snapshot of the profession, which was released last week: Barristers represent 11.7 percent of practising certificates, with a total of 1917.
In-house lawyers account for 28 percent of the profession. The bulk of lawyers (5908) practise company or commercial law and just 309 practise media law.
The move for better transparency is part of wider reforms to the legal representative and regulatory body, which have been progressing since 2018.
The Independent Review Panel, for example, will deliver its final recommendations in March 2023, following consultation with the profession and key stakeholders.
From a transparency perspective, I’m saddened that additional information will only be available via a lawyers-only portal. I’ve long pined for a time when the Law Society might be subject to the same requirements under the Official Information Act 1982.
That said, some may argue the Official Information Act is far from perfect.
Earlier this month, Chief Ombudsman Peter Boshier announced the launch of an investigation into claims government agencies are frustratingly slow in responding to requests for information.
“I am worried delays are leading to the perception – especially among journalists – that the Official Information Act (OIA) is being used as a bureaucratic tool to stifle the flow of information,” the former judge said.
“This is not in line with the principle of availability that is the foundation of this law,” he added.
In a report dating back to September, Boshier concluded 12 government agencies surveyed were more transparent than his predecessor conducted a report in 2015.
Those 12 agencies were: ACC, Corrections, Customs, the Defence Force, the Public Service Commission, Waka Kotahi NZ Transport Agency, and the ministries of Education, Foreign Affairs and Trade, Health, Justice, Social Development, and Transport.
But Boshier raised concerns about a lack of OIA training and overly-complicated OIA processes resulting in routine 20-day waits.
Just this week I sent an exhaustingly tedious email to a government department asking for the status of OIAs dating back to October.
Due to an administrative oversight, the email was not sent to the right team to log and action.
It meant “we are in the position of being unable to complete these requests before the summer holiday break”. It was a blip and I was fortunate to receive a sincere call over the phone.
This isn’t the first time this has happened in an OIA context. It led to an existential crisis - a pondering over the adversarial relationship between media and communications teams.
How did we get here? Who monitors these unmanned media inboxes? What happens if there’s an out of office reply? Why aren’t administrative nagging practices included in journalism salaries? Was the email even real? Am I even real?
There is nothing like the frustration and resentment you feel when you’re forced to send requests for developments when you’re in the throes of a deadline.
It’s especially frustrating when after a million days of waiting, your questions have been answered to the letter and you have no idea what you’re looking at.
Vice versa, it must be terribly frustrating to get rogue OIAs from journalists (namely me) who are asking wide-sweeping questions because they’re trying to front-foot the 20-day lag.
It must also be frustrating having to hunt down various experts to realise there’s no way to compare ‘apples and oranges’, or that they too are out of office for the holiday period.
‘Gotcha journalism’ aside, I wish there was more of a culture where you could talk frankly (without losing your cool) over the phone and decipher what’s the easiest way for each party to get the information.
But said conversation could be retrieved under the Official Information Act and we’re back to where we started. The ghost of OIA past, as it were.
