“If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.” – George Orwell (1903 – 1950), English Author and Journalist

In October 2021, a coalition of eight lawyers and a lone journalist—all united by a shared resolve—met with a U.S.-based documentary producer crafting an exposé on the turbulent history of Australia’s legal and judicial system. His lens zeroed in on the entrenched collegium mindset, a pervasive force deeply embedded within the nation’s courts, most notably in Queensland, New South Wales, and Western Australia.

What began as a series of discussions stretched into late 2022, fueled by the producer’s research and the relentless contributions of this small but formidable group. Among them, the journalist—a lawyer herself and the only woman present—stood as a singular voice, amplifying the call for scrutiny. Their collective efforts sparked broader inquiries and investigations into the conduct of legal professionals across every Australian state and territory.

Australia’s justice system, by all accounts, is shackled to a collegium framework that has gutted the checks and balances essential to any civilized society. It is a system rife with nepotism, skewed by biases of race, gender, and religion, and engineered to favor a privileged elite: graduates of private schools, the progeny of judges and politicians—predominantly white, Anglo-Saxon, and male. The women’s rights movement has, over decades, clawed through some of these barriers, though critics argue this progress owes much to a handful of privileged women joining the fray against the old boys’ club. Yet, the legal profession remains a self-serving, self-regulating fortress of entitlement, unaccountable to any external authority. It elevates those of the same social pedigree—private-educated, university-polished, and pedigreed—while governments, complicit or cowed, turn a blind eye.

Historians trace this rot back to the revolutionary tenure of Edward Gough Whitlam, whose appointee, Attorney-General and High Court Justice Lionel Murphy, became a lightning rod for exposing corruption. Murphy’s misconduct unraveled to a point where only death spared him the ignominy of disgraceful removal. He was neither the first nor the last. Sir Owen Dixon, celebrated jurist, High Court judge, and former Australian Ambassador to the UN, was later unmasked as less than honorable—ghostwriting dissenting judgments for colleagues in a betrayal of judicial integrity. Yet, to this day, Australian silks and judges venerate Dixon’s words as if they were sacred scripture, ignoring the stain on his legacy.

The scandals multiply. Lawyers flout norms of justice and fairness—fraternizing with judges over golf games, weekend soirées, private yachts, and holiday retreats, openly discussing cases still under adjudication. Courts, fully aware of this misconduct, shield the worst offenders, perpetuating a culture of impunity. The list of transgressions grows: threats from lawyers, law societies, and judges against those who dare challenge the system are no longer rare—they’re routine. For solicitors and barristers bold enough to confront their own, the financial toll is crushing, and ostracism is all but guaranteed.

In late 2021 Family Court justice Guy Andrews committed suicide rather than face an inquiry into allegations of inappropriate conduct of bullying threats and other forms of judicial misconduct levelled against him. The allegations against Andrews came from barristers, solicitors and their clients and were numerous and varied in nature- All actionable.

Andrews was not alone in this regard. Yet in respoding to criticisms of corruption amongst Family Court judges that year, LCA president Dr Jacoba Brasch QC said, comments published by channel 9 Australia about coruption amongst the judiciary – particularly in the Family court – “undermined public confidence” in the integrity of the courts as well as the rule of law”. His comments came just prior to law suit against sitting Family Court judge Salvatore Vasta (the first of its kind in Australia) and the suicide of another Family Court judge Guy Andrews.

From this crucible, we emerged in 2022. Our first publication of s eries of articles on corruption within the legal and judcial system in Queensland – reached over three million readers worldwide, a clarion call silenced only by a sophisticated hack in mid-2024. Now, we rise again—with sharper resolve and fiercer purpose. The fight against this unaccountable bastion of privilege is far from over. We are back, and we are unrelenting.

“May it please the court of public opinion. We are fleetstreet.blog”