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Also no one would become a judge once they start counsel practice from a law firm as it affects credibility and trust of clients
Firstly, you suggest that I’m conflating the role of an advocate with that of a judge, and I understand why you might see it that way. But let me clarify: the point isn’t that these roles are identical—they’re clearly not. However, the experience gained through advocacy, especially in the courtroom, can be crucial in developing the qualities that make a good judge. It’s not just about legal knowledge or technical skills; it’s about the ability to navigate complex, high-stakes situations with fairness, impartiality, and a deep understanding of human nature. These are qualities that are often honed through years of direct, adversarial legal practice.
Now, regarding your point about the skills required in a law firm, you’re absolutely right that these environments demand presence of mind, resilience, and the ability to manage complex, often contentious negotiations. But there’s a fundamental difference in context and consequence. Negotiating transaction documents, no matter how acrimonious, occurs in a controlled, often private setting, focused primarily on financial and strategic outcomes. It’s a different kind of pressure compared to the courtroom, where decisions can have immediate and far-reaching consequences for individuals and society as a whole.
You also mentioned litigation lawyers who appear in court without a designation and those involved in arbitration. Certainly, these professionals possess valuable skills, and I’m not diminishing their contributions. But when it comes to appointing judges, we must prioritize not just competence but the breadth of experience. Judges deal with a wide array of cases, from criminal law to constitutional issues, and the ability to understand and adjudicate these matters impartially often requires more than just specialized experience in arbitration or transactional law.
The real concern here is about ensuring that those who are appointed to the bench have the most well-rounded and comprehensive legal experience possible. It’s not about excluding those with a corporate or arbitration background, but about recognizing that the demands of judging require a different kind of preparation—one that is often cultivated in the adversarial, public, and unpredictable environment of the courtroom.
Finally, I appreciate your willingness to agree to disagree, but I think we owe it to ourselves to dig deeper into this discussion. The standards we set for our judiciary have profound implications for the trust and integrity of our legal system. We shouldn’t shy away from these debates, because the consequences of getting it wrong are too significant to simply leave to a difference of opinion.
So, while I respect your perspective, I remain convinced that the unique challenges of judging require a specific type of preparation—one that goes beyond the skills typically honed in a law firm or arbitration setting. It’s about ensuring that our judges are not just competent, but truly equipped to handle the full spectrum of legal challenges they’ll face on the bench.
Cheers.
The point I’ve been making—and one that ties directly into the broader discussion—is that the judiciary demands more than just specialized knowledge or corporate success. It requires a form of wisdom and experience that is often cultivated through years of direct courtroom engagement, where decisions are made under pressure, with immediate and far-reaching consequences. This is what I referred to earlier as being “battle-tested.”
Law firm partners are undoubtedly experts in their fields, but their experience is typically oriented towards client advocacy and transactional work, rather than the adversarial and public nature of courtroom litigation. It’s not about lacking legal knowledge; it’s about whether that knowledge has been honed in the kind of high-stakes, public-facing environment that judges must navigate daily.
As for the suggestion of training akin to what IAS officers undergo, it’s an intriguing idea. Such programs could indeed help bridge the gap for those transitioning from corporate law to the bench. But even then, we must be cautious not to overlook the unique and irreplaceable value of the broad legal experience that comes from years of courtroom practice. It’s this experience that ensures judges aren’t just technically competent, but also possess the deep, intuitive understanding of the law’s application in diverse and often unpredictable circumstances.
So, while I respect the expertise of law firm partners, my argument is that the judiciary demands a broader, more varied form of experience—one that’s best cultivated in the courtroom. It’s not an “empty hypothesis” but a recognition of the different demands these roles entail. And as I mentioned before, the stakes are too high to assume that success in one realm automatically translates to readiness in another.
different perspective.
Conflicts of interest are the Achilles’ heel of any system that prides itself on impartiality. The challenge here is that Mr. Karia, having operated at the highest levels within SAM, will undoubtedly have had dealings with a wide array of clients and cases, many of which could conceivably come before him as a judge. The question then becomes: how do we ensure that his decisions remain above reproach, that they are free from even the appearance of bias?
In an ideal world, the solution would be straightforward: rigorous recusals, clear guidelines, and perhaps even the preemptive declaration of conflicts. But we know that the real world is messier. Relationships formed over years of professional collaboration don’t simply vanish the moment one dons the judicial robes. The bonds of trust and mutual interest that are the lifeblood of the corporate world can linger, consciously or unconsciously, influencing decisions in subtle ways.
This is why transparency is absolutely critical. The judiciary must not only be impartial, but it must be seen to be impartial. Any perceived conflict of interest, whether real or imagined, can erode public confidence in the system. And once that confidence is lost, it’s incredibly difficult to regain.
So, while we can and should congratulate Mr. Karia on his elevation, we must also insist on the highest standards of scrutiny and accountability as he steps into this new role. The mechanisms for identifying and addressing potential conflicts must be robust, transparent, and unyielding. For in the end, the credibility of our judicial system hinges not just on the competence of those who serve, but on their unwavering commitment to justice, free from any shadow of doubt.
Firstly, the argument that someone coming from a law firm will naturally be familiar with the courts misses a fundamental point. It’s not about mere familiarity; it’s about the depth of experience that only comes from the relentless grind of courtroom battles, day in and day out. Senior advocates, for all their transitions to the bench, have spent years honing their skills in the crucible of courtrooms, facing the unpredictability of live cases, the intricacies of argumentation, and the pressures that simply don’t exist in a boardroom or an advisory role. The concern isn’t that law firm partners are unaware of courts; it’s that they haven’t lived the life of an advocate, where the stakes are immediate, and the lessons learned are hard-earned through direct engagement in the adversarial process. That difference is significant.
Secondly, while you’re right that perception issues can exist even for senior advocates, equating this with the concerns raised about law firm partners is to oversimplify the matter. Senior advocates, by the time they’re considered for the bench, have built their reputations over years—if not decades—of public service, with a track record of arguing cases across a wide spectrum, often on behalf of the government or in the public interest. Their loyalties and competencies are tested in ways that are transparent and visible to all. On the other hand, law firm partners often operate in the more private, transactional world of corporate law, where their work, while important, is far less scrutinized by the public eye. The transition from representing private interests to suddenly embodying judicial impartiality is, therefore, far more abrupt and potentially problematic.
As for the point about domain knowledge, it’s a compelling one, but let’s not conflate domain expertise with judicial acumen. Yes, the complexity of modern business requires a nuanced understanding of corporate law, but that doesn’t mean that the best judges are those who come directly from corporate law firms. What we need are judges who have both the expertise and the broader perspective that comes from years of diverse legal practice—across different areas of law, in various types of cases. Senior advocates often bring this broad experience to the bench, while law firm partners, focused as they are on specific corporate issues, might lack the breadth necessary to fully grasp the wide array of matters that come before a judge.
Lastly, while we can all respect the decision of someone to take a significant pay cut to join the bench, we should be cautious about equating personal sacrifice with judicial qualification. The decision to become a judge should be motivated by a commitment to public service and a deep understanding of the law, not merely by a willingness to forgo a higher salary. That someone has agreed to earn less does not, by itself, speak to their suitability for the bench. What’s crucial is whether they have the experience, temperament, and wisdom to make just and fair decisions in a complex and often contradictory legal landscape.
In the end, while we may differ in our views, I believe it’s essential to maintain a high standard for those who sit on the bench—one that includes not just domain knowledge, but also a deep and broad legal experience, tested and proven in the courts. This isn’t about tradition for tradition’s sake; it’s about ensuring that our judiciary remains strong, impartial, and above all, truly capable of administering justice.
A note to the moderators- why are you holding back the commentary around this development and marking them trollish? Just censor the problematic bits and publish!
So I don't think I see as much concern on these points as you do. But we both have our own views. Let's respect the fact that someone with 7.1 cr of earnings has agreed to be a judge instead of going independent, becoming senior and multiplying his earnings or even earning as much as he did, simply by remaining where he was. Haven't heard something negative on him so by all accounts, he's capable guy and probably, he'll carve a path open for future elevations on bench from law firms.
If anything, the behavior of certain judges across various high courts only underscores the need for higher standards, not lower ones. The fact that trust in the judiciary has been challenged isn’t an argument for bypassing rigorous preparation; it’s an argument for reinforcing it. If we’re concerned about the wisdom and judgment of those on the bench, the solution is not to cut corners or relax the demands we place on our judges. On the contrary, it’s to ensure that those we appoint are more thoroughly vetted, more deeply experienced, and better prepared than ever before.
Let’s be clear: the judiciary, like any institution, will always have its failings. But those failings should compel us to strive for better—not to throw up our hands and abandon the very processes that are designed to cultivate the wisdom and integrity we seek. If judges are falling short of the standards we expect, it’s because those standards have been allowed to slip, not because they’ve been enforced too strictly.
So yes, the trust issues you mention are real, and they’re deeply concerning. But they don’t negate the importance of proper judicial preparation—they reinforce it. The more we demand of those who aspire to the bench, the more we can ensure that the judiciary earns and maintains the public’s trust.
In the end, we’re left with a choice: do we respond to these challenges by lowering our expectations, or do we redouble our efforts to uphold the principles that should guide our judiciary? I would argue that the latter is not only the right course, but the only course that offers any hope of restoring the integrity and trust that have been, as you rightly point out, so sorely tested.
Your mock dialogue is amusing, I’ll grant you that. But it also reveals a deeper problem—one that goes beyond the logistical challenges you so wittily outline. The real issue is this: the judiciary isn’t a game where we appoint judges based on convenience or expediency. It’s a cornerstone of our society, and it demands more than just passing familiarity with the law. It demands experience, gravitas, and a deep understanding that only comes from time spent in the trenches, not in the boardrooms of law firms.
You’ve aptly named yourself “Ivory Tower,” because the view from up there seems to miss the ground-level reality that our judges need to be more than just well-credentialed—they need to be battle-tested. The scenario you paint, where a collegium makes empty promises and leaves candidates in professional limbo, isn’t a critique of the need for experience; it’s a critique of a system that’s failing to properly prepare its judges. And that’s precisely the point. The solution isn’t to laugh off the idea of preparation; it’s to fix the system so that the best candidates can gain the experience they need without sacrificing their careers on a vague promise.
So while your satire might play well in the clouds of your “Ivory Tower,” down here in the real world, we have to deal with the consequences of appointing judges who aren’t ready for the responsibility. If we’re serious about maintaining the integrity of our judiciary, then we can’t afford to ignore the importance of experience—no matter how impractical it might seem from your lofty vantage point.
Collegium: We would like Mr. Karia to practice for some time, and he can then become a judge after 3 years
Mr. Karia: Yes, cool. So I just go and get some clients of my own and start arguing as a senior?
Collegium: Yes, we were going to directly appoint you, but some guy on Legally India wrote this brilliant comment about how you should imbibe the ethos of the bar first.
Mr. Karia: Oh wow, what a comment. So I become a judge in 2027, right?
Collegium: Yeah, we will make a recommendation and the collegium in 2027 will decide.
Mr. Karia: So, the 2027 collegium will surely recommend me once I give it all up and start my practice, right?
Collegium: We cant formally put it in writing, of course, but it's a done deal.
Mr. Karia: OK, so I'm going on your word, right? I won't get screwed over?
Collegium: Our word is our bond. We will leave a note for the 2027 Collegium.
Mr. Karia: Wow, thank you. This is reassuring.
Collegium: lol
Mr. Karia: lol
Now, why does that matter? Because the courtroom isn’t just a place where abstract legal principles are debated; it’s where those principles are tested, where they collide with the messy, unpredictable realities of life. When someone has that experience—when they’ve been through the rigors of counsel work—they gain a kind of wisdom that simply can’t be acquired in any other way. They learn to see the law not just as a set of rules, but as a living, breathing organism that interacts with human nature in all its forms.
And let’s be clear: the transition from counsel to judge is not a trivial one. A judge isn’t there to argue a case; they’re there to adjudicate it. That requires a deep understanding of what it means to be an advocate, because only then can they truly be impartial. If you skip that step, you risk placing someone on the bench who might still think like an advocate—someone who hasn’t fully internalized the impartiality that is so crucial to the role of a judge.
But beyond that, there’s also the matter of public trust. The judiciary must be seen as fair and impartial, and that perception is built on the integrity and experience of those who serve as judges. When a judge has spent time as counsel, the public can have greater confidence that they’ve earned their place, that they’ve been tested in the real world, and that they’re truly ready to take on the immense responsibility of judging others.
So, the difference, in essence, is between a judge who is merely knowledgeable and one who is wise—between someone who knows the law and someone who understands it, deeply, in the context of human experience. And that, I would argue, is no small difference at all.
Firstly, there is the matter of courtroom experience. Judges are not mere legal scholars—they are the arbiters of justice, tasked with interpreting and applying the law in real-world scenarios. The courtroom is a place where theory meets practice, where the abstract becomes tangible. It’s here that one truly grasps the complexities and subtleties of the law. When we appoint individuals directly from law firms to the bench, we risk placing them in a position of immense responsibility without ensuring they have the practical experience necessary to wield it effectively.
Then there is the issue of transitioning from advocacy to adjudication. A judge is not an advocate for a particular client or cause but a neutral arbiter who must weigh all sides impartially. This is not a mindset one simply adopts overnight; it requires time, reflection, and a shift in perspective—something that a period as senior counsel can facilitate. Without this, we risk placing individuals on the bench who are still, in a sense, advocates in their hearts, which is not what the role demands.
And let us not overlook the matter of public perception. The judiciary must not only be impartial but be seen to be impartial. When we pluck individuals directly from the corridors of corporate law and place them on the bench, the public might reasonably question whether they can truly leave their past affiliations behind. A stint as senior counsel serves as a necessary buffer, helping to reassure both the individual and the public of their impartiality.
Finally, there is the matter of tradition. There is a reason why the pathway to the bench has, for so long, passed through the ranks of advocacy and senior counsel practice. It is a time-tested route that has consistently produced judges who are not only knowledgeable but also deeply connected to the realities of the law as it is lived and breathed in the courts. To bypass this process is to risk undermining the very foundations of our judiciary, something that should not be done lightly.
In essence, my concern is that this new trend might lead to a judiciary that is less prepared, less impartial, and ultimately less respected. And that, I believe, would be a loss for us all.