In court for King’s Counsel lawyer initiation ceremony – Jarrod Gilbert

University of Canterbury professor Philip Joseph became a Kings Counsel member this year. Composite Photo / NZME

THREE KEY FACTS

• King’s Counsel replaced Queen’s Counsel after the death of Queen Elizabeth II.
• Known colloquially as “silks”, to attain the status of a “KC” is among the highest honours in the New Zealand legal system.
• Not to be confused with that other bunch of KCs, the King Cobras...

Dr Jarrod Gilbert is the director of independent research solutions and a sociologist at the University of Canterbury.

OPINION

As I entered the Christchurch Justice Precinct and made my way to Courtroom 12, I was struck by those gathered in the corridor.

These were not the usual flotsam and jetsam that wash through the courts day after day: the despicable, the unfortunate and the unwell. No, no, no, those gathered at the court on this day appeared more prim than prisoner and they were there to support a group of KCs.

For the longest time in New Zealand, “KC” has been the shortened moniker for the King Cobras, a Pasifika gang with roots into pre-gentrified Ponsonby. The KCs in court this day are not them, with the shared name only coming about since that nice old English woman with a shiny hat passed away. Hundreds of legal business cards, which read QC, became redundant as Queen’s Counsel lawyers became King’s Counsel lawyers.

While King’s Counsel are a national organisation, today’s undertaking is regional, with an initiation ceremony to patch up four new members from Christchurch. One of them is my mate, and University of Canterbury colleague, Professor Philip Joseph.

King’s Counsel have a history dating back to the 16th century, and since then the various roles and rules around them have been modified. However, being appointed a KC remains a rare privilege bestowed on a select few based on excellence, leadership and contributions to community (including pro bono work). They must also be in their own practice to promote their independence.

It is even rarer for an academic, like Joseph, to become a KC and this is based solely on legal excellence. Just a handful of academic KCs exist in New Zealand, the first of whom was another University of Canterbury giant, John Burrows, in 2005.

The special sitting, or call to the inner bar, is an arcane set of rituals, full of bowing and reverence. The Chief Justice, Helen Winkelmann, runs the show but is supported by judges from a variety of different courts. Justice Winkelmann is known for her fierce intellect and her disarmingly down-to-earth nature. The special sitting, however, is not about being down to earth but about elevating one’s status. She compares the pomp and ceremony of the occasion to “rituals used on the marae and more generally in te ao Māori when important business is being conducted – similar in that they work to maximise respect for the forum”.

It’s a good perspective on the importance of tradition and is even more apt as one compares the elaborate Māori kōrowai to the elaborate gowns of the KCs. Those gowns, incidentally, are not cheap – a gown and the obligatory horsehair wig costs around $5000. But the gown is more than garb, it lends itself to the informal name for the KCs: “Silks”.

Professor Philip Joseph of the University of Canterbury law department has been appointed King's Counsel this year.

“I will now take the appearance of the King’s Counsel,” the Chief Justice proclaimed. “Does any other counsel move?”

Joseph slowly stood. “I have received from Her Excellency the Governor-General a patent appointing me one of his majesty’s counsel and I request permission to produce it to the court”.

The Chief Justice glances to her left. “Madam Registrar, please may I see the patent”.

The Registrar walked over to the professor and took the warrant to the Chief Justice, who viewed it as if seeing such a thing for the first time, before requesting the Registrar take it back to the professor, who by this stage had made his way to the witness box.

“Professor Joseph, would you please read aloud and then sign your declaration.”

The professor then bowed to the bench, bowed to the Law Officers and the other silks, who rose and returned the bow, before he bowed to the outer bar, who also rose to their feet to bow back at him, respect to the law and usages of New Zealand, and mindful always of my obligations to this honourable court.”

Joseph then bowed to the bench, bowed to the Law Officers and the other silks, who rose and returned the bow, before he bowed to the outer bar, who also rose to their feet to bow back at him.

By any measure, that’s a lot of bowing – but it’s not without purpose.

The regalia associated with being appointed a King's Counsel can cost $5000. Photo / 123rf

Bowing is one of the polite ways of interacting that keep the court in good order, both between opposing lawyers and between lawyers and the bench. This reverence means that good manners are evident even when the highest emotions are at play. It is a stark contrast to the puerile behaviour we see in Parliament.

The other three new KCs went through precisely the same process, with one giving her declaration in both te reo and English.

Then other KCs stood to be recognised by the court, and the first two were heavyweights of criminal law: Nigel Hampton and Judith Ablett-Kerr.

If the King Cobras require legal representation and, let’s face it, they will, then they know if they find a KC to help them, they will be employing some of New Zealand’s finest legal minds. New Zealand’s inner bar is particularly well-served.