Legal Profession

Mediation Confidence and the Reach of Section 71: The Limits of Apologies, Undertakings and ‘Off the Record’ Side Conversations

An Analysis of Keogh v Bartlett [2026] WASC 166

1. Introduction

The Supreme Court of Western Australia’s decision in Keogh v Bartlett [2026] WASC 166 is a significant statement on the enforcement of mediation confidentiality. Cobby J convicted the first defendant, Mr Bartlett, and the corporate second defendant, FMR Investments Pty Ltd, of civil contempt for disclosing the content of a court-ordered mediation to two State prosecutors at the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions, in contravention of s 71(1) of the Supreme Court Act 1935 (WA). Each defendant was fined $50,000 and ordered to pay the plaintiff’s costs on an indemnity basis.

For practitioners, the decision warrants attention beyond the immediate parties for three reasons. First, it confirms that s 71(1) captures everything said in the course of a court-ordered mediation, including the kind of ‘off the record’ private side conversation that some clients (and, perhaps, some practitioners) treat as outside the formal mediation. Second, it dispels any assumption that the trio of concession, apology and undertaking will automatically purge a contempt — Cobby J expressly declined to find that the defendants had purged their contempts and observed that the question of purging will depend upon all of the circumstances of the case. Third, the quantum of penalty marks a substantial departure from the $5,000 fine imposed by Seaward J in Kelly v Hilton [No 6] [2025] WASC 43 for analogous conduct, on the express ground that the fine must bite. Calibrating fines to the contemnor’s means is now a matter of principle, not exception.

The decision affects every civil litigator and every party who attends a court-ordered mediation in Western Australia.

2. Relevant Legal Framework

2.1 The statutory obligation

Section 71(1) of the Supreme Court Act 1935 (WA) provides that, subject to s 71(3), evidence of anything said or done, any communication (oral or in writing), or any admission made in the course of or for the purposes of an attempt to settle a proceeding by mediation under direction is to be taken to be in confidence and is not admissible in any proceedings before any court, tribunal or body. Section 71(3) provides exceptions to that protection, including (relevantly here) the case where the parties to the mediation consent to the admission of the evidence: s 71(3)(a).

In C v M [2011] WASC 175 [65]–[70], K J Martin J held that s 71(1) creates an express statutory obligation of confidence separate from the without-prejudice privilege implicit in the section. Cobby J adopted his Honour’s reasoning at [8].

2.2 Mediation as a fundamental component of civil litigation

The importance of mediation to the civil justice system in Western Australia has long been emphasised by the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal. In West Australian Newspapers v Bond [2009] WASCA 127; (2009) 40 WAR 164, Owen JA referred to the ‘critical importance of mediation in the modern case management process’ at [3] and [6], and Buss JA described mediation as ‘an essential and important feature in the management of contemporary litigation’ at [118]. In C v M at [25], K J Martin J observed that less than three per cent of civil actions filed in the Supreme Court of Western Australia proceed to a resolution at trial, and that court-ordered mediation ‘render[s] an indispensable service to the quelling of civil disputes in this State’.

The protective force of s 71(1) is the corollary of mediation’s centrality. As Smith J explained in Blenkinsop v Herbert [2020] WASC 196 at [36], anything said or done in a mediation is strictly confidential, so that no participant should disclose any information disclosed during the mediation unless all parties agree or disclosure is required or authorised by law. Seaward J echoed this in Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [71], observing that the disclosure of confidential information from such a conference has the potential to undermine the utility of mediation in the substantive matter and the administration of justice more broadly.

2.3 Contempt — civil or criminal

The distinction between civil and criminal contempt was addressed in Allbeury v Corruption and Crime Commission [2012] WASCA 84; (2012) 42 WAR 425 at [61]–[62]. The proceedings before Cobby J were conducted on the common basis that the conduct constituted civil contempt, brought to secure the defendants’ obligation as to confidentiality. His Honour expressly left open at [16] the question whether unauthorised disclosure of mediation material may also constitute criminal contempt, on the basis that the conduct interferes or tends to interfere with the course of justice — citing Lewis v Ogden [1984] HCA 26; (1984) 153 CLR 682, 688; Attorney-General v Leveller Magazine Ltd [1979] AC 440, 449; and Gazal v Setiawan [2024] NSWSC 1008 [67]. The standard of proof for either species is proof beyond reasonable doubt: Witham v Holloway [1995] HCA 3; (1995) 183 CLR 525, 534.

2.4 Penalty principles and the doctrine of purging

The penalty for contempt is in the discretion of the court (Resolute Ltd v Warnes [2001] WASCA 4 [5]) and must be effective; otherwise ‘serious damage to the fabric of the law may result’ (AMIEU v Mudginberri Station Pty Ltd (1986) 161 CLR 98, 115). In Perpetual Trustee Company Ltd v Pascoe Partners Custodian Services Pty Ltd [2025] WASC 82 at [46], Gething J catalogued the relevant sentencing factors: seriousness, culpability, motive, benefit, remorse, the timing and nature of any plea, personal circumstances, character, criminal record, prior contempts, compliance with other orders, personal and general deterrence, and denunciation.

The doctrine of purging contempt was reviewed by Seaward J in Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [16]–[21]. Drawing on Wilson LJ’s formulation in CJ v Flintshire Borough Council, her Honour held that purging ordinarily means to atone for, eradicate, or cleanse the contempt of its previous ill-effect, but that this concept fits more comfortably with breaches of mandatory orders than prohibitory ones. The ‘better view’, her Honour accepted, is that all forms of contempt should be capable of being purged, with what suffices to depend on the particular circumstances. Steps ordinarily required include a genuine and unreserved apology, an offer of compensation, and an offer to pay indemnity costs — but, critically, no single step (or combination of them) automatically purges the contempt. The court retains a discretion to require additional steps or impose a penalty proportionate to the contempt.

3. The Facts of the Case

3.1 The criminal proceedings and acquittal

The plaintiff, Mr Patrick Rhyan Keogh, was a former employee of FMR Investments Pty Ltd, of which Mr Bartlett was a director. In March 2023 the plaintiff was tried on charges including stealing as a servant and property laundering relating to gold-bearing ore allegedly taken in the course of his employment (at [18]). His defence was that Mr Bartlett had given him permission to take the ore. Following a direction that the jury could not convict unless satisfied beyond reasonable doubt that Mr Bartlett’s evidence to the contrary was honest and reliable (at [19]), the plaintiff was acquitted on 28 March 2023 (at [20]).

3.2 The civil proceedings and the order to mediate

On 24 August 2023, FMR Investments commenced civil proceedings in CIV 1957 of 2023, arising out of the same conduct as the criminal trial (at [21]). On 18 January 2024 Musikanth J ordered the action to mediation; the mediation was held on 6 May 2024 before a registrar of the Supreme Court (at [22], [25]).

By March 2024, the State had charged the plaintiff with seven further counts of causing a detriment by fraud, alleging unauthorised payments via inflated subcontractor invoices, with trial listed for September 2024 (at [23]). On 1 April 2024 the plaintiff’s counsel informed the DPP that the defence would again rest on Mr Bartlett’s permission, and invited the prosecution’s discontinuance on public interest grounds (at [24]).

3.3 The ‘off the record’ side conversation

After an initial joint session before the registrar, the parties were placed in separate rooms for the balance of the mediation (at [27]). At some point a conversation occurred between the plaintiff and Mr Bartlett, in the absence of the registrar and the parties’ lawyers (at [27]). Mr Bartlett’s evidence was that he treated the conversation as ‘off the record’ and did not see it as part of the formal mediation (at [28]). On his own account, that conversation included the parties’ settlement proposals (at [29]).

3.4 The disclosure to the DPP

Mr Bartlett gave a statement to police in April or May 2024 about the second criminal charges, then met two State prosecutors, Mr Sertorio and Ms Crouch, at the DPP on 31 May 2024 (at [30]). Mr Sertorio prepared a near-contemporaneous file note of the meeting (at [32]).

The two men’s recollections of what was said at the meeting differed. Cobby J, applying the criminal standard of proof for both liability and penalty (Anderson v XLVII [2015] FCA 19; (2015) 319 ALR 139 at [35]), declined to make findings adverse to the defendants where the accounts diverged but found beyond reasonable doubt that Mr Bartlett disclosed the content of his conversation with the plaintiff at the mediation, including the settlement amounts each side had proposed (at [39]); that he did so to convince the DPP to continue the prosecution, having been told there was only a 50/50 chance the trial would proceed (at [38], [41]); and that he told Mr Sertorio, in substance, that he assumed FMR Investments would sue the plaintiff in respect of the matters underlying the second set of charges (at [40]).

The DPP discontinued the prosecution on Mr Sertorio’s independent assessment of its prospects, notwithstanding Mr Bartlett’s attempt to convince the DPP otherwise (at [48], [53]).

3.5 The contempt motion and the defendants’ summons

On 26 July 2024, the plaintiff filed an originating motion for committal (at [1]). On 19 August 2024, the defendants filed a summons to be discharged of, or alternatively to limit the penalty for, their contempt (at [2]). Affidavits were filed by Mr Bartlett and by Mr Watson, the finance director of FMR Investments. Neither deponent was cross-examined (at [3]).

4. Analysis of the Court’s Reasoning

4.1 The scope of s 71(1)

Cobby J rejected the defendants’ submission that s 71(1) is not expressed in terms that state clearly to whom the obligation is owed, from whom things said or done at a mediation must be kept confidential, and who has standing to enforce a breach (at [9]). The text of s 71(3)(a)–(c) makes plain that the obligation is owed to the parties to the mediation, who alone have power to consent to admission, and that each such party has standing to enforce a breach (at [9]). Critically, his Honour also held at [10] that the obligation requires that the matters identified in s 71(1)–(2) not be disclosed to any person not a party to the mediation — including invitees who attend but are not parties or agents of parties.

That holding has direct bearing on the ‘off the record’ issue. There is no carve-out in s 71(1) for private side conversations between parties during a mediation. A party who treats such a conversation as outside the formal mediation does so at their peril; the obligation extends to anything said or done in the course of or for the purposes of an attempt to settle a proceeding by mediation under direction.

4.2 Findings of contempt and corporate liability

Cobby J found beyond reasonable doubt, consistent with the defendants’ concession, that Mr Bartlett’s disclosure on 31 May 2024 contravened s 71(1) and that he made the disclosure with the intention of convincing the DPP to continue the prosecution (at [41]).

His Honour disposed of the corporate liability question on two bases (at [42]–[44]). First, as FMR Investments was the complainant in the criminal proceedings and the party to the civil proceedings, Mr Bartlett’s intention and conduct at the meeting was the conduct of FMR Investments. Second, even if that were not so, a corporation is liable for contempt where it authorised the conduct or failed to take proper steps to prevent it: Lade & Co Pty Ltd v Black [2006] QCA 294; [2006] 2 Qd R 531 at [63], [106]; Grocon Constructors (Victoria) Pty Ltd v Construction, Forestry, Mining and Energy Union [2013] VSC 275; (2013) 234 IR 59 at [60]. Mr Watson’s affidavit acknowledged that FMR Investments ‘should have ensured that all attendees at the mediation, including [Mr Bartlett] understood … the confidentiality requirements’ (at [43]).

4.3 The purging argument

The defendants’ principal contention was that they had purged their contempt by conceding the contempt, apologising to the plaintiff and the court, giving an undertaking not to further publish the information, and offering to pay costs on an indemnity basis (at [45]–[46]). Cobby J rejected that contention on three grounds.

First, the absence of benefit was not attributable to anything the defendants had done. Mr Bartlett conceded that he attempted to convince the DPP to continue the prosecution; the only reason he failed was Mr Sertorio’s independent assessment of the prospects. There was, his Honour observed, ‘little more that Mr Bartlett could have done to achieve his admitted goal’ (at [53]). Where the failure to obtain a benefit is not due to any restraint or correction by the contemnor, submissions about the absence of benefit carry little weight (at [60]).

Second, the apology was significantly delayed. Mr Bartlett knew of the contempt allegation in mid-June 2024 while in Europe, where he had no demonstrated impediment to communication. He returned to Perth on 3 July 2024 and left on a fishing trip on 6 July 2024 (with continuing telephone and internet access) until 9 August 2024. His apology emerged only with the affidavits filed on 19 August 2024 (at [54]–[57]). The court accepted the apology as genuine but gave it ‘significantly less weight than it might otherwise have received, given his failure to address his contempt in a timely manner’ (at [58]).

Third, the public interest in safeguarding mediation confidentiality told against a finding of purging. Given the potential for damage to the administration of justice arising from disclosure of mediation content, a finding that the defendants had purged their contempts would not be in the interests of justice (at [61]).

4.4 Penalty and the calibration to means

His Honour held that an order for indemnity costs alone would not be a punishment proportionate to the contempt nor a sufficient general deterrent (at [62]–[63]). General deterrence was an important consideration, given the function of s 71(1) in the resolution of litigation without trial (at [64]).

Although neither defendant led evidence of their financial position (at [66]), Cobby J inferred that Mr Bartlett was a person of substantial means from his Applecross residence, his shared ultimate beneficial ownership of a unit trust owning the Gordon Sirdar Gold Mine and the Greenfields Mill, his Busselton house, his month-long European holiday, and his fishing boat with offshore telecommunications (at [67]). FMR Investments’ resources were apparent from its $100 million annual turnover and unrefined gold ore worth between $4 million and $8 million held at Mr Bartlett’s residence (at [68]). Counsel for the defendants made no case as to inability to pay (at [69]).

His Honour expressly compared the present case to Kelly v Hilton [No 6], where Seaward J had imposed a $5,000 fine for analogous disclosure of mediation content to police. The amount was held to be an inadequate response in the present case: ‘a fine of $5,000 would not be an effective punishment in the case of either defendant, being too small to be of consequence to them’ (at [76]). It is appropriate, his Honour held, to consider the means of the contemnor and the extent to which the fine will burden the contemnor in determining the amount of the fine: Peterson v Ceccon [2023] WASC 488 at [103]. The intended order for indemnity costs was a relevant factor in calibrating the fine: Construction, Forestry, Mining and Energy Union v BHP Steel (AIS) Pty Ltd [2003] FCAFC 13; 196 ALR 350 at [53] (at [78]).

The result was a $50,000 fine on each defendant — a tenfold increase on Kelly v Hilton — and indemnity costs of both the originating motion and the defendants’ summons.

5. Assessing the Consequences: Quantification of Penalty

The aggregate financial consequence to the defendants is materially greater than the headline fines suggest. Adding the $100,000 in fines to the costs of the two applications on an indemnity basis yields a likely total exceeding $200,000, before accounting for the defendants’ own legal costs of resisting the originating motion and prosecuting the failed summons.

Three features of his Honour’s reasoning are worth isolating.

First, the court drew the inference of substantial means from indicia rather than financial statements. A defendant who declines to lead evidence of financial position cannot expect the court to assume modest circumstances; the inference from observable wealth (residences, holidays, business interests) operates against them. This is a deliberate evidentiary message: where means are at large, mute defendants will be assumed to have means.

Second, the comparison with Kelly v Hilton [No 6] is unusually direct. In Kelly v Hilton, Seaward J imposed $5,000 for analogous conduct (disclosure of mediation material to police), as a component of a $30,000 aggregate fine across 17 contempts. Cobby J held that figure could not represent a tariff for the present defendants because $5,000 ‘would not be an effective punishment’. The implication is that fines for s 71 contempts are not subject to a fixed quantum but must be set at a level that achieves general deterrence in the case at hand.

Third, the indemnity costs order operates both as a punitive component and as a factor in moderating the fine. His Honour expressly noted at [78] that the prospect of indemnity costs is a factor to be taken into account in imposing penalty, citing CFMEU v BHP at [53]. Practitioners should not assume that indemnity costs and fines are alternative remedies; they will commonly run together.

6. Worked Example

Consider a hypothetical applicant — a director of a privately owned construction company involved in a Supreme Court action against a former senior employee for breach of fiduciary duty. The action is referred to court-ordered mediation. During the mediation the parties spend several hours in separate rooms. The director steps out for coffee and runs into the former employee in the lobby. They speak for fifteen minutes, away from the mediator and the lawyers. The director discloses, in confidence, that the company is willing to settle for $80,000 to make the litigation go away.

Three weeks later, the director is interviewed by police about a separate matter — an allegation, made by the former employee, that the company underpaid superannuation. To pre-empt that allegation, the director tells the investigating officer: ‘Look, this is the same employee who was demanding $200,000 from us at mediation last month. We were prepared to pay $80,000 just to be rid of him.’

On the analysis in Keogh v Bartlett, the director’s disclosure to police almost certainly contravenes s 71(1). The lobby conversation is captured because it is a communication in the course of or for the purposes of an attempt to settle a proceeding by mediation under direction; nothing in s 71(1) carves out informal exchanges that occur during the mediation but outside the mediation room. The disclosure to police of (i) the figure the company was prepared to pay and (ii) the figure the employee was demanding is disclosure to a person not a party to the mediation.

If the former employee learns of the disclosure (perhaps because the police mention it in a subsequent interview), an originating motion for committal is open. Were the matter to proceed, the director would face a finding of civil contempt (and possibly criminal contempt, on the question Cobby J left open at [16]); a substantial fine, calibrated to the director’s means — on Cobby J’s reasoning, more in the order of $30,000 to $50,000 than the $5,000 of Kelly v Hilton; an indemnity costs order on at least the originating motion; and vicarious exposure of the company.

A timely apology, undertaking, and offer of compensation might mitigate the penalty but, as Keogh v Bartlett makes clear, will not automatically purge the contempt. Where the disclosure was strategically motivated, submissions to the effect that ‘no harm was done’ will carry little weight where the absence of harm is fortuitous rather than contemnor-driven. The director’s position would be markedly different had he, on realising his error, immediately notified the former employee’s solicitors of the disclosure, apologised in writing the same day, provided police with a written correction confirming the disclosure was not to be relied upon, offered indemnity costs and a fixed sum of compensation, and caused the company to direct that all future mediation attendees be briefed on s 71. Even so, on the reasoning in Keogh v Bartlett, purging is not automatic. The court retains discretion.

7. Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

The following framework is derived from the principles stated by Cobby J at [9]–[78].

Step 1 — Brief every attendee on s 71 before the mediation.

A corporation acts through its officers; if the attending director or representative does not understand the scope of s 71, the corporation is exposed (at [43]). The brief should expressly address that side conversations during the mediation, including those between parties without lawyers present, are within s 71.

Step 2 — Treat any communication between arrival and departure as confidential.

Section 71(1) is not confined to formal sessions before the mediator. It captures anything said or done in the course of or for the purposes of an attempt to settle. Practitioners should advise clients that there is no concept of ‘off the record’ conversations during a mediation that escape s 71 (at [10], [27]–[29]).

Step 3 — If a contempt allegation is made, address it at once.

A delayed apology will be discounted (at [54]–[58]). Practitioners should not allow holidays or trips to derail the response. If the client is overseas or otherwise unavailable, contemporaneous evidence of the impediment should be assembled.

Step 4 — Concede contempt early if the conduct is plainly captured by s 71.

A late concession is given less weight than an early one. The defendants’ concession in Keogh v Bartlett came only after the file note was disclosed by the plaintiff’s solicitors (at [54]).

Step 5 — Offer purgative steps proactively, but do not rely on them.

Apology, undertaking, offer of compensation, and offer of indemnity costs are the conventional steps (per Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [21]). The court may regard them as insufficient where the absence of benefit was fortuitous (at [60]).

Step 6 — Address the absence of benefit rigorously.

If the contemnor positively withdrew the disclosure or took steps to neutralise it, that should be shown by evidence. If the absence of benefit is solely attributable to a third party’s independent decision, the court will assign little weight to the submission (at [60]).

Step 7 — Lead financial evidence where it is favourable.

Where the contemnor is of modest means and the fine threatens disproportionate hardship, lead evidence to that effect: Peterson v Ceccon [2023] WASC 488 at [103]. Where the contemnor has substantial means, silence is not neutral — the court will infer means from observable indicia (at [66]–[68]).

Step 8 — Anticipate indemnity costs.

Indemnity costs are now standard for s 71 contempts: at [78], [80]. Quantify the likely order at the outset to inform the client.

Step 9 — For corporations: consider proactive policy steps.

The corporate liability discussion at [42]–[44] gives obvious mitigation arguments to corporations that have implemented attendance protocols, mediation briefings, and post-mediation debriefs. Drafting and adoption of such protocols is a sensible response to Keogh v Bartlett.

Step 10 — Remember the open question on criminal contempt.

Cobby J left open at [16] whether breach of s 71 may also be criminal contempt. Practitioners should not assume that an admitted s 71 breach will always be characterised as civil only.

8. Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

8.1 The applicant for committal

An applicant should focus on the objective fact of disclosure: section 71(1) is breached by disclosure simpliciter, with intent and benefit going to penalty rather than liability. Evidence of motive is critical — disclosure made to procure a forensic or commercial advantage attracts a higher penalty (at [51]–[53]). Evidence of the contemnor’s means is admissible from real estate, business interests, holidays and other lifestyle indicia: Keogh v Bartlett shows that such evidence will be acted on even in the absence of formal financial statements (at [67]). Communications between solicitors will often disclose when the contemnor first knew of the allegation and what steps were taken, providing evidence of any delay in apology (at [55]–[57]). Evidence (such as Mr Sertorio’s file note in the present case) that a third party’s independent decision was the only thing preventing the contemnor from achieving his or her aim is critical to demonstrating that the absence of benefit is fortuitous (at [48], [53]). Where the contemnor is of substantial means, applicants should argue that the Kelly v Hilton tariff is too low — exactly the argument adopted by Cobby J at [76].

8.2 The respondent (alleged contemnor)

A respondent should consider whether the disclosure was made in the honest (if mistaken) belief that the conversation fell outside s 71 — although Keogh v Bartlett shows that an ‘off the record’ subjective belief will not negate liability, it may go to culpability. Time-stamped evidence of prompt and proactive apology, withdrawal, and corrective steps should be assembled, ideally pre-dating the originating motion. Self-reporting to the opposing party is a powerful purgative step. Where the contemnor is a corporation in financial distress or an individual on modest means, financial evidence should be led: Peterson v Ceccon. Silence carries the risk identified in Keogh v Bartlett at [67]. For corporate respondents, evidence that mediation attendance protocols and confidentiality briefings have been instituted post-incident may mitigate (at [43]). An early and unconditional concession remains a mitigating factor under Perpetual Trustee v Pascoe Partners at [46], and an offer (or actual payment) of compensation for any actual prejudice caused is ordinarily relevant: Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [21].

9. Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1. Section 71(1) covers everything said in the mediation. There is no carve-out for ‘off the record’ side conversations between parties during a court-ordered mediation. Cobby J’s holding at [10] that confidentiality applies in respect of disclosure to any person not a party to the mediation leaves no room for an informal-conversation exception (at [27]–[29]).

2. Concession, apology and undertaking will not automatically purge a contempt. The court retains discretion to require additional steps or to impose a substantial penalty notwithstanding (at [60]; Kelly v Hilton [No 6] at [16]–[21]).

3. Delay in apologising materially weakens its weight. A contemnor who learns of an allegation and prioritises a holiday or fishing trip over corrective action will see the apology discounted (at [55]–[58]).

4. Fines are calibrated to the contemnor’s means. Kelly v Hilton’s $5,000 figure is not a tariff. Where the contemnor has substantial means, fines will be set at a level that secures effective punishment and general deterrence (at [76]–[77]).

5. Silence on financial position is dangerous. A respondent who declines to lead financial evidence will not be assumed to be of modest means; the court will infer wealth from observable indicia (at [66]–[68]).

6. Indemnity costs and fines run together. The two remedies are cumulative, with the indemnity costs order operating as a factor in the calibration of the fine, not in substitution for it (at [78]).

7. Corporations are liable through the conduct of their directors. A corporation that fails to brief an attending director on s 71 confidentiality is exposed to contempt liability vicariously and may also be liable for failure to take proper steps to prevent the contempt: Lade & Co Pty Ltd v Black (at [43]).

8. The motive to obtain a forensic advantage aggravates. Disclosure made to influence prosecutorial decision-making, or to gain leverage in associated civil proceedings, will be treated more seriously than inadvertent or accidental disclosure (at [51]–[52]).

9. The absence of benefit must be earned, not fortuitous. Submissions about lack of benefit carry weight only where the contemnor’s restraint produced that outcome. Where a third party’s independent decision is the sole reason no benefit accrued, the absence of benefit is irrelevant to penalty (at [60]).

10. The professional and systemic stakes are significant. Cobby J’s repeated emphasis on the public-interest function of mediation confidentiality at [11]–[14], [61] and [64] makes plain that the court will treat s 71 breaches as a structural threat to civil case management, not as private grievances between parties.

10. Conclusion

Keogh v Bartlett sharpens the message that mediation confidentiality is not a soft norm but a statutory obligation enforceable by substantial penalty. Three propositions are now firmly settled in Western Australia.

First, s 71(1) reaches every communication during the course of a court-ordered mediation, including private side conversations that the parties may have intended to treat as informal. The ‘off the record’ gambit is foreclosed.

Second, the conventional purgative trio of concession, apology and undertaking does not automatically cleanse the contempt. The court will assess the timing, motive, restraint and corrective steps in each case, and decline to find purging where to do so would not be in the interests of justice.

Third, fines for s 71 contempts must bite. Kelly v Hilton’s $5,000 figure was a function of that contemnor’s circumstances, not a tariff. The means-tested approach in Keogh v Bartlett — $50,000 each, plus indemnity costs — is now the benchmark for contemnors of substantial wealth.

For practitioners, the operational message is straightforward. Brief every attendee at every court-ordered mediation on the scope of s 71 before the mediation begins. Address allegations of breach the moment they are made. And do not rely on the apology-and-undertaking response alone to escape penalty.

The Duty to Exercise Independent Forensic Judgment: When Lawyers Must Overrule Their Clients on Evidence

An Analysis of Bailey and Petersen [2026] FCWA 50

1.  Introduction

All names used in this article are pseudonyms assigned by the Court. The judgment was published under those pseudonyms with the approval of the Family Court of Western Australia pursuant to s 114Q(2) of the Family Law Act 1975 (Cth). No details in this article identify or are intended to identify any party, witness, or associated person.

Bailey and Petersen [2026] FCWA 50 is a judgment of O’Brien J in the Family Court of Western Australia, delivered on 16 March 2026, that warrants close attention from all legal practitioners—not merely family lawyers. While the decision arose in the context of a parenting dispute under the Family Law Act 1975 (Cth), its analysis of the professional obligations of lawyers in relation to the evidence they place before a court has application across all areas of legal practice.

The judgment addresses a question that arises with regularity in contested proceedings: what is a lawyer to do when a client insists upon filing evidence that is irrelevant, lacking in probative value, or gratuitous? O’Brien J’s answer is unequivocal. The lawyer must exercise independent forensic judgment. That duty is not merely aspirational; it is mandatory. It cannot be displaced by client instructions, client preferences, or client-drafted affidavits. A lawyer who files irrelevant material has failed in a professional obligation.

The significance of the decision lies in its clarity. It consolidates, in accessible terms, the interplay between the overarching purpose provisions of the Family Law Act, the specific powers of the Court in child-related proceedings, and the professional conduct obligations imposed on solicitors and barristers. It does so by reference to a concrete and, as the Court acknowledged, “stark” example (at [94]).

2.  Relevant Legal Framework

2.1  The overarching purpose provisions

Section 95 of the Family Law Act 1975 (Cth) sets out the overarching purpose of practice and procedure provisions. That purpose is to facilitate the just resolution of disputes in a manner that, among other things, ensures the safety of families and children, promotes the best interests of the child, and achieves resolution “as quickly, inexpensively and efficiently as possible” (s 95(1)(d)). Section 95(2)(e) requires the disposal of proceedings “at a cost that is proportionate to the importance and complexity of the matters in dispute.”

Section 96 imposes a duty on parties to conduct proceedings consistently with that overarching purpose. Lawyers have a corresponding duty to assist their client to comply with it. As O’Brien J observed at [17], these are duties imposed by statute, not mere aspirations.

2.2  The Court’s powers in child-related proceedings

Section 102NE provides that the Court must actively direct, control and manage the conduct of child-related proceedings. Section 102NN confers broad powers to give directions or make orders about, among other things, the matters on which parties may present evidence, who may give evidence, and the number of witnesses (s 102NN(2)(j)). The Court may also limit or disallow cross-examination of a particular witness (s 102NN(2)(i)).

2.3  The professional conduct obligations

The duties of lawyers as officers of the court are reinforced by the Legal Profession Uniform Law Australian Solicitors’ Conduct Rules 2015 (WA), r 17, and the Legal Profession Uniform Conduct (Barrister) Rules 2015 (WA), rr 42–43. O’Brien J summarised the effect at [23]: lawyers must not act as the “mere mouthpiece” of their client. They are required to exercise independent forensic judgment and do not breach their duty to the client by doing so, even where it means acting contrary to instructions.

2.4  Relevance, admissibility and probative value

Rule 239 of the Family Court Rules 2021 (WA) reflects the fundamental principle that evidence at trial should be limited to facts that are relevant, admissible, and of probative value (at [9]). O’Brien J emphasised that the relaxed evidentiary regime in parenting proceedings—section 102NL permits opinion and hearsay evidence—does not equate admissibility with relevance or probative value (at [12]). The distinction between the unqualified opinion of a lay witness and expert opinion evidence, as discussed in Makita (Australia) Pty Ltd v Sprowles (2001) 52 NSWLR 705 at 743–744 [85], remains critical.

3.  The Facts of the Case

The proceedings concerned parenting arrangements for two children, Charlie (born 2017) and Henry (born 2019), following the separation of Mr Bailey and Ms Petersen. The proceedings were commenced in May 2020 and listed for a seven-day trial before O’Brien J in 2026. Both parties were legally represented. Between them, they proposed to call 25 witnesses (at [1]).

At a Status Hearing in early 2026, the Court confirmed the matters actually in issue. Both parties agreed, through their respective counsel, on a series of concessions that materially narrowed the dispute. These included that there was no risk of the children being exposed to family violence, abuse or neglect in the care of either parent (at [3](a)); that each parent was competent and attentive (at [3](c)); and that both were devoted and engaged parents (at [4](b)). The only identified risk to the children was exposure to the negativity of each parent about the other (at [4](a)).

Against that narrow factual matrix, O’Brien J expressed surprise at both the proposed trial length and the number of lay witnesses: seven for the wife and ten for the husband (at [5]). The Court required counsel to be prepared to make submissions at trial as to why each affidavit, other than those of the parties themselves, the Single Expert Witness, and the family therapist, should be received into evidence (at [6]).

3.1  The husband’s proposed evidence

The husband proposed to rely on evidence from 13 witnesses in addition to his own three affidavits. The Court’s treatment of each is instructive.

Of the 13, counsel for the husband conceded that the evidence of five witnesses—Mr Morgan (at [39]), Mr Becker (at [41]), Ms Orson (at [52]), Mr Leroy (at [54]), Mr Whit (at [56]), and Ms Douglas (at [64])—had no probative value. The concession that Ms Frances Bailey’s evidence similarly lacked probative value followed (at [58]). A subpoena for Dr Johnson was discharged before trial (at [32]).

Three further affidavits were excluded after contested submissions. The affidavit of Ms Radu, a clinical psychologist who had seen the parties years before the children were born, was excluded on the basis that the matters it addressed—an admitted slap and admitted communication difficulties—were already established (at [37]). The affidavits of Mr Robert Bailey and Ms Eliot, siblings of the husband who had limited contact with the children, were excluded for having little relevance and no probative value (at [46], [50]).

Only two affidavits beyond the husband’s own were admitted: that of Ms Michelle Bailey, his mother, who had lived with him and had significant contact with the children, and whose evidence was relevant to an issue raised in the Single Expert Witness’s report (at [60]–[62]); and that of Mr Visser, the husband’s treating psychologist, given the currency of his professional engagement (at [69]).

3.2  The wife’s proposed evidence

The wife proposed seven lay and professional witnesses in addition to her own affidavits. Five lay witness affidavits—from a high school friend, a brother-in-law, a neighbour, a mothers’ group friend, and a retired professional—were sensibly abandoned at trial (at [73]).

The affidavit of Mr Joshua Petersen, the wife’s brother, was excluded. It contained extensive personal history, including detail of shared cooking arrangements in Europe in 2006–2007, and was characterised by gratuitous commentary about the husband’s career and ambition (at [82]–[85]).

The affidavits of Ms Suzanne Petersen (the wife’s mother, admitted due to her active involvement and at the husband’s request for cross-examination: at [77]–[78]), Ms Curtis (treating psychologist, admitted for currency of engagement: at [81]), Dr Joyce (paediatrician, clearly relevant to a medical dispute: at [87]), and Dr Carrillo (general practitioner, relevant to the same dispute: at [90]) were received.

3.3  Outcome

Of 25 proposed witnesses, the affidavits of 16 were not received into evidence (at [92]). The trial proceeded with the evidence of the parties, six professional witnesses, and one lay witness for each side.

4.  Analysis of the Court’s Reasoning

4.1  The “prospective and predictive exercise”

O’Brien J’s reasoning is anchored in the characterisation of parenting orders as a “prospective and predictive exercise” (at [13]). The Court’s task is to determine what arrangements will best serve the children’s interests going forward, informed by relevant past events but not overwhelmed by them. “Cradle to grave” affidavits are rarely informative for that purpose.

4.2  The distinction between admissibility and probative value

The relaxed evidentiary provisions of s 102NL allow opinion and hearsay evidence in parenting proceedings. O’Brien J was at pains to emphasise that admissibility does not equate to relevance or probative value (at [12]). This is a point of general application. The fact that evidence may be received does not mean it should be. The gateway of admissibility is necessary but not sufficient.

4.3  The problem with lay opinion evidence

The judgment draws a clear line between lay opinion and expert opinion. A friend’s view that the husband is a good father, a brother-in-law’s assessment of the husband’s career ambition, or a neighbour’s impression of the wife’s parenting are, in practical terms, testimonials. They carry no weight in a forensic exercise where the Court has the benefit of expert evidence from a Single Expert Witness, a family therapist, and relevant treating professionals. As O’Brien J noted, the distinction identified in Makita at [85] between unqualified lay opinion and expert evidence remains critical (at [12]).

4.4  The “forensic disadvantage” test

A notable feature of the judgment is the role played by the opposing party’s position in the admissibility determination. In several instances, the Court admitted evidence where the opposing counsel identified a forensic disadvantage in not being able to cross-examine the witness. This arose with Ms Michelle Bailey (at [61]), Ms Suzanne Petersen (at [77]), Ms Curtis (at [80]), and Mr Visser (at [68], though there the wife’s counsel did not perceive disadvantage and the affidavit was admitted on other grounds). Where neither party perceived a forensic need for the evidence, exclusion followed.

4.5  The 220 photographs

O’Brien J’s observation about the 220 “happy photographs” annexed to the parties’ affidavits (at [27]) is a pointed illustration. No photograph of a child looking happy has probative value in proceedings where both parents are acknowledged to be devoted and competent. While self-represented litigants might mistakenly think such material serves a forensic purpose, the Court observed that “there is frankly no excuse for lawyers seeking to adduce them into evidence.”

5.  Assessing the Consequences of Non-Compliance

O’Brien J identified three categories of consequence flowing from the failure to exercise independent forensic judgment on evidence.

5.1  Costs to the parties

The parties incurred unnecessary costs in the preparation, drafting, settling, filing and serving of 16 affidavits that were ultimately excluded (at [95]). Each affidavit involved time spent by the deponent in preparation, time spent by the lawyer in settling and filing, and associated court filing fees. The costs extend to the preparation of cross-examination plans for witnesses who were never called.

5.2  Delay to the parties

The inflated witness list drove an estimate of seven trial days. That estimate in turn limited the listing options available, such that earlier dates that would otherwise have been utilised could not be (at [96]). The parties’ own progress to trial was thereby delayed.

5.3  Impact on other litigants

The seven days allocated to the matter could not be allocated to other families (at [97]). This is a point of systemic significance. Court time is a finite public resource. Its inefficient consumption by one matter has a direct and measurable impact on every other matter awaiting hearing.

6.  Worked Example: Applying the Principles

Consider a hypothetical parenting dispute with the following features. The parties agree that each is a competent parent. The dispute concerns the division of time and a disagreement about schooling. Each party proposes to call five lay witnesses comprising family members and friends. The single expert has provided a report. A family therapist has been appointed.

6.1  From the perspective of the party proposing the evidence

The practitioner must undertake a rigorous assessment of each proposed witness before any affidavit is drafted. The questions to ask are:

First, what is the matter in issue to which this witness’s evidence is directed? If the answer is a generalised proposition—“my client is a good parent”—the evidence is almost certainly without probative value where that proposition is not in dispute.

Second, does this witness have direct knowledge of a fact that is genuinely contested and that cannot be established by other evidence already before the Court? If the Single Expert Witness and the parties’ own evidence already address the issue, a lay witness’s observations will add nothing.

Third, is this witness offering opinion evidence? If so, is the witness qualified to give that opinion? The unqualified opinion of a family member that a parent is “demanding” or “lacks ambition” has no forensic utility.

Fourth, will the evidence withstand the scrutiny applied by O’Brien J? Would counsel be able to articulate, with precision, the probative value of the evidence if required to do so by the Court?

6.2  From the perspective of the party opposing the evidence

The practitioner should consider whether there is a genuine forensic disadvantage in the evidence being excluded. If the answer is no—if the evidence, even if admitted, would not affect the outcome—the practitioner should say so. This is what occurred in several instances in Bailey and Petersen (see, for example, at [68] where counsel for the wife confirmed no forensic disadvantage in excluding Mr Visser’s evidence).

Conversely, where the opposing party’s witness has made allegations that require testing, the practitioner should identify the forensic disadvantage of exclusion. This is what occurred with Ms Michelle Bailey (at [61]) and Ms Suzanne Petersen (at [77]), where opposing counsel’s submission that exclusion would cause forensic disadvantage contributed to the evidence being admitted.

7.  Practitioner Guidance: A Step-by-Step Framework

The following framework, derived from the principles stated in Bailey and Petersen, is applicable to any proceedings in which a practitioner is considering what evidence to file.

Step 1: Identify the matters in issue.

Before any affidavit is drafted, the practitioner must clearly identify the matters actually in dispute. As O’Brien J observed, this must occur at an early stage and before trial affidavits are prepared, “for obvious reasons” (at [10]).

Step 2: Assess each proposed witness against the issues.

For each proposed witness, the practitioner must determine whether their evidence is directed to a matter genuinely in issue, whether it is relevant and of probative value, and whether it is duplicative of evidence already before the Court.

Step 3: Exercise independent forensic judgment on client-drafted material.

Where clients or witnesses have prepared initial drafts of affidavits, the practitioner has a duty to review, edit, and if necessary refuse to file that material. The duty extends to the “deletion of inadmissible, irrelevant, or gratuitous content” and further to “a refusal by the lawyer to file the affidavit if it is of no relevance or probative value” (at [26]).

Step 4: Remove all material without probative value.

This includes, by way of non-exhaustive example: happy photographs of children (at [27]); testimonial-style character evidence; gratuitous commentary about the other party’s career, ambition or personality; submissions disguised as evidence (at [48]); and historical detail unconnected to any matter in issue (at [82]).

Step 5: Communicate the professional obligation to the client.

As O’Brien J observed at [100], “the requirement to adhere to clear professional obligations is a complete answer to many of the demands made by clients.” The practitioner should explain to the client that filing irrelevant evidence will not assist their case, will increase costs, and may delay the hearing. The professional obligation provides the basis for that conversation and, if necessary, for acting contrary to the client’s wishes.

Step 6: Apply the proportionality principle.

The cost and time involved in the evidence must be proportionate to the importance and complexity of the matters in dispute (s 95(2)(e)). In a case where the core issues are narrow, a large number of witnesses is unlikely to be proportionate.

8.  Evidence and Arguments Available to Each Side

8.1  For the party seeking to adduce lay evidence

The strongest argument for admission arises where the opposing party would suffer a forensic disadvantage from exclusion. This occurred in Bailey and Petersen with the parties’ mothers (at [61], [77]). The lay witness must have direct, relevant knowledge of a contested matter that is not adequately addressed by other evidence. Frequency and recency of contact with the children will strengthen the case for admission. Evidence addressing a specific concern raised by the Single Expert Witness is more likely to be admitted (at [60]).

8.2  For the party opposing the evidence

The following arguments, each grounded in Bailey and Petersen, are available:

(a) The evidence is duplicative: the same matters are addressed in the party’s own affidavit and/or the expert evidence (at [45]).

(b) The evidence is opinion evidence from an unqualified lay witness and lacks the indicia required for expert opinion: Makita at [85]; Bailey and Petersen at [12].

(c) The witness has limited contact with the children, reducing the weight and relevance of any observations (at [45], [47]).

(d) The affidavit contains submissions rather than evidence (at [48]).

(e) There is no forensic disadvantage from exclusion because the matters addressed are not in dispute or are adequately addressed elsewhere (at [68]).

9.  Key Takeaways for Legal Practice

1.  The duty to exercise independent forensic judgment is mandatory. It is not diminished by client instructions, client-drafted affidavits, or the pressures of busy practice (at [22]–[23]).

2.  Identify the issues before drafting evidence. The matters in issue must be clearly identified at an early stage and before trial affidavits are prepared (at [10]).

3.  Admissibility does not equate to relevance or probative value. The relaxed evidentiary regime in parenting proceedings does not exempt evidence from scrutiny for relevance and probative value (at [12]).

4.  Lay opinion evidence is rarely of probative value where the Court has the benefit of expert evidence. The distinction in Makita between qualified and unqualified opinion evidence remains critical.

5.  Testimonials and character references do not assist. Evidence that a parent is “a good father” or “a caring mother” has no forensic utility where competent parenting is not in dispute.

6.  The professional obligation is a tool, not a burden. It provides the complete answer to demanding clients (at [100]). Adherence to it will “alleviate the pressure perceived by a practitioner more often than it will exacerbate it.”

7.  Consequences extend beyond the parties. Inflated trial estimates consume finite court resources and delay other families’ access to justice (at [97]–[98]).

8.  The principles are of general application. While the judgment arises in the family law jurisdiction, the duties described apply to all lawyers in all jurisdictions. The obligation to confine a hearing to the real issues and present the case as quickly and simply as is consistent with its robust advancement is universal.

10.  Conclusion

Bailey and Petersen is a judgment that every practitioner should read. Its significance extends well beyond family law. It is a clear, authoritative statement that lawyers are not obliged—and are in fact prohibited—from acting as conduits for their clients’ every wish in relation to evidence. The independent forensic judgment of the lawyer is not a discretionary add-on; it is a professional obligation.

The judgment serves as a reminder that the pressures of practice—demanding clients, tight deadlines, the temptation to file everything and let the Court sort it out—do not excuse a failure to discharge that obligation. As O’Brien J observed, with proper regard to the principles summarised in the judgment, the process of excluding 16 of 25 proposed witnesses “should have been entirely unnecessary” (at [94]). The affidavits eventually excluded should never have been filed.

For practitioners, the practical message is straightforward. Identify the issues early. Assess each piece of evidence against those issues. Remove what is irrelevant. Refuse to file what is gratuitous. Explain the professional obligation to the client. The obligation is not a constraint on effective advocacy; it is a component of it.

The Ethics of Time‑Based Billing: When Does “Padding” Become Professional Misconduct?

Few topics generate as much angst among clients—and as many disciplinary files for lawyers—as time‑based billing.

Lawyers practising under the Legal Profession Uniform Law (“LPUL”) face real regulatory peril if they cross the line from honest mistake to dishonest inflation.

This post unpacks how that line is drawn, the cases that illustrate it, and the practical safeguards every firm should adopt.

1. The Legal Baseline: “Fair and Reasonable” Fees

Since 1 July 2022 WA practitioners have operated under the LPUL. Section 172 is blunt: a law practice must not charge more than fair and reasonable legal costs. The law then ups the stakes—section 207 declares that charging above that mark is capable of amounting to unsatisfactory professional conduct or outright professional misconduct.

The Solicitors’ Conduct Rules reinforce the point. They require honesty, competence and proper supervision. Dishonesty in billing is therefore not just a costs problem; it is an ethical failure that can end a career.

2. What Counts as “Over‑Recording”?

  • Padding – entering more time than the task consumed (e.g. billing an hour for a five‑minute email).

  • Double‑billing – charging two clients for the same period of work.

  • Phantom billing – charging for work that never took place.

  • Over‑servicing – performing unnecessary work to justify more hours.

Each method inflates the fee. Whether a Tribunal calls it negligence or misconduct depends on why it happened and how bad the excess is.

3. Negligence v Dishonesty

Honest Mistake = Possible Unsatisfactory Conduct

A careless duplicate entry or poor supervision can still attract a reprimand, a fine or compulsory training. In Council of LSNSW v Kernaghan (No 2) [2022] NSWCATOD 64 the solicitor’s disclosure failures and some inflated attendances were labelled unsatisfactory professional conduct—but because there was no dishonesty the tribunal stopped at a reprimand and ethics training.

Deliberate Inflation = Professional Misconduct

Where intent is proved, tribunals show little mercy. In Legal Services Commissioner v Williams [2022] VCAT 806 the practitioner fabricated timesheets and misappropriated trust money. Result: professional misconduct, a nine‑year ban and payment of the regulator’s costs. Closer to home, LPCC v O’Halloran [2013] WASAT 105 saw a six‑month suspension for systematic padding across personal‑injury files.

4. How Much Is “Gross”?

Even without direct proof of intent, a fee can be so high that dishonesty is inferred. Courts ask whether the costs bear a rational relationship to the work and its importance. In Shalhoub v Johnson [2023] NSWDC 555 the District Court endorsed that proportionality test: a huge bill for a modest task is self‑evidently unreasonable.

How big is “huge”? There is no fixed percentage. If an assessor chops 15 % or more off a bill, LPUL s 204(2) usually saddles the firm with the costs of the assessment—another financial sting.

5. Evidence that Wins (or Sinks) a Billing Case

  • Metadata never lies – native timesheet logs reveal when an entry was really made. A note created after a bill is issued “screams” reconstruction.

  • File notes must match the narrative – vague descriptions such as “file review – 3 h” invite disbelief.

  • Expert cost assessors set the benchmark – tribunals lean heavily on their view of what a competent solicitor would have charged.

  • Patterns tell stories – a lawyer who always records a neat six hours per day, or rounds every unit to the next hour (see LSC v Panayi [2023] VCAT 39), quickly looks suspect.

6. Disciplinary Consequences

  1. Reprimand or caution – for negligent over‑recording quickly rectified.

  2. Fine – up to $25 000 in WA; often coupled with extra CPD or practice management training.

  3. Conditions on practice – supervision requirements, trust‑account audits, or ethics courses.

  4. Suspension – months or years off the roll for dishonest padding.

  5. Strike‑off – the “nuclear option” when dishonesty is systemic or the practitioner shows no insight.

Whatever the disciplinary label, tribunals almost always order restitution: over‑charged clients get their money back, sometimes with interest.

7. A Practical Checklist to Stay Safe

  • Record time contemporaneously. Reconstruction is where mistakes and temptations breed.

  • Compare every draft bill to scale or market norms. Write off hours that look excessive.

  • Supervise juniors. Partners remain responsible for systemic padding.

  • Use clear narratives. Specify what was done and why it took the time recorded.

  • Document write‑offs. They evidence judgement and help defend complaints.

  • Invite questions. A bill‑review chat often defuses client anger and reveals errors early.

  • Audit files randomly. Compare output to hours; anomalies tend to surface quickly.

  • Educate the team. Circulate cautionary case summaries; make ethics part of KPIs, not just budgets.

8. Key Take‑Away

Time‑based billing is not inherently unethical, but transparency and proportionality are non‑negotiable.

The moment a lawyer knowingly records time that was not worked—or continues to bill an amount no reasonable peer could defend—the conduct shifts from sloppy to dishonest.

WA’s Uniform Law, the SAT and the courts have shown they will act decisively when that line is crossed.

A robust billing culture, built on contemporaneous records, active supervision and client‑centred communication, is the best protection.

Protecting the Estate's Interests: The Need for Independent Legal Advice for Executors

Introduction

In Hall v Hall [2023] WASC 342, Christopher Hall brought proceedings against his brother Michael Hall in Michael's capacity as executor of their mother Alwyn's estate, and in Michael's personal capacity.

An issue arose as to whether the firm acting for Michael in both capacities, Taylor Smart, owed potentially conflicting duties to him in those different capacities.

Facts

Michael was appointed executor of Alwyn's estate, which was valued at over $9 million ([31]).

Christopher sought various orders requiring Michael as executor to take action against Michael personally relating to loans, property improvements and unpaid rent ([35]-[37]).

Michael opposed the orders sought ([39]).

Taylor Smart (lawyers) acted for Michael as executor and personally, filing affidavits and submissions without distinguishing his capacities ([65]).

The court noted Taylor Smart had prepared Alwyn's will and power of attorney ([65]), and there was no evidence Michael as executor had independent advice about potential claims against Michael personally ([68]-[69]).

Analysis

In Hall v Hall, Howard J considered Taylor Smart's representation of Michael in his personal and executor capacities gave rise to a potential conflict of duties ([66]).

His Honour stated it was "imprudent, at the least" for Taylor Smart to act for Michael in these potentially conflicting capacities without distinguishing between them ([70]).

The court has a supervisory role over its officers to ensure the administration of justice, which includes ensuring solicitors avoid acting where there are conflicting duties.

Michael as executor was entitled to be advised independently about potential claims against Michael personally ([68]-[69]).

Michael ought to consider his positions and obligations as executor and personally, and obtain independent advice, given the potential conflict ([74]).

The court refrained from making any order at that time, but considered it sufficient to raise the obvious matter ([75]).

The 'Monumental' Costs of Large-Scale Litigation: Insights from the Santos-Fluor Dispute

A recent case in the Supreme Court of Queensland between Santos Limited and Fluor Australia Pty Ltd (Santos Limited v Fluor Australia Pty Ltd & Anor [2023] QSC 77) provides a clear picture of the financial scale associated with large-scale litigation.

The case centres around a dispute over alleged overpayments made by Santos to Fluor during a coal-seam gas project construction between 2011 and 2014.

Santos alleges overpayments to Fluor. Before initiating proceedings, Santos conducted a year-long investigation into these alleged overpayments​.

The court referred questions arising on pleadings to 3 referees. Hearings were heard before the referees between November 2021 and August 2022. The referees submitted a draft report on 7 March 2023 and allowed parties to make further written and oral submissions in April 2023​.

The sheer magnitude of this litigation is evident in the resources invested. Santos reported expending over 120,000 solicitor hours, $36.5 million in expert fees, $21 million in counsel fees, and $2.5 million in other costs. The scale of the litigation extended beyond financials, with the parties disclosing over 5.7 million documents, 14 experts producing 81 expert reports, and 90 lay witnesses providing 178 witness statements.

The Judge noted that the parties are “engaged in litigation on a monumental scale”, marked by numerous interlocutory disputes and appeals.

The Defendants applied to stay the conduct of the reference (to the Referees) until further order, presumably until the hearing and determination of the substantive application. In his reasons given for dismissing the application, the Judge stated that the costs associated with finalising the referee report were likely to be "relatively insignificant in the scheme of this litigation."

The Santos-Fluor dispute underscores the complexity and cost that can be associated with litigating large resource and infrastructure projects. As this case continues to unfold, it serves as a stark reminder of the potential financial implications of such large-scale disputes.

Understanding When a Lawyer Can Be Prevented from Acting in a Case

Legal professionals are bound by a set of ethical rules that guide their conduct in various scenarios. A situation that often presents a challenge is determining the circumstances under which a lawyer can be restrained from acting in a particular case.

This blog post sheds light on this subject using references from precedent cases and legislation.

A fundamental concept to understand is the duty of confidentiality. This principle, as outlined in the case of Prince Jefri Bolkiah v KPMG [1999] 2 AC 222, stipulates that a lawyer is obliged to protect any confidential information provided by a client.

A lack of recollection about an earlier matter does not exempt a lawyer from this duty. It has been suggested, as in Yunghanns v Elfic Ltd (Unreported, VSC, 3 July 1998), that this confidential information could even extend to the general knowledge a lawyer gains about a client during their professional relationship, although this is rare.

The courts also possess inherent jurisdiction to prevent a solicitor from acting in a case if doing so could undermine the administration of justice. This principle, illustrated in cases like D & J Constructions and Mallesons, is rooted in the concern that public confidence in the justice system could be damaged if a lawyer is perceived to switch sides easily.

Another factor is the fiduciary duty of loyalty a lawyer owes to a former client, even after the end of their professional relationship. However, there is conflicting legal opinion on whether this duty persists after the termination of the retainer. The primary concern here is to avoid any real risk of a breach of confidence or any action that could jeopardize the judicial process.

The 1882 case Mills v Day Dawn Block Gold Mining Co Ltd dealt with the issue of proving the existence of confidence. The court decided that if a dispute arises between a solicitor and a former client over whether confidential information was shared, it's inappropriate to demand to know what the confidence was, as it could expose the client to the very harm they're trying to avoid.

In summary, a court may prevent a lawyer from acting in a case if there's a risk of breaching confidentiality, undermining the administration of justice, or violating a potential continuing duty of loyalty. The nature of the relationship between the lawyer and the client, the type and scope of the confidential information, and the potential for misuse of such information are all factors that the court will consider.

"Plan Continuation Bias": A template letter to provide clients

Plan Continuation Bias is a cognitive bias, a psychological phenomenon that impacts our decision-making process.

It is the inherent tendency to continue with an initial plan or strategy, even in the face of new information or changing circumstances that suggest the plan may no longer be the best course of action.

This bias has been observed in numerous fields, from aviation and healthcare to finance and law, and it can significantly impact the outcomes of our decisions.

In its essence, Plan Continuation Bias is about being overly committed to an initial plan, to the extent that it can lead to ignoring important new information or overlooking better options.

It is fueled by a human preference for consistency and a resistance to change, especially when we have invested time, energy, and resources into a particular plan or strategy.

The origins of Plan Continuation Bias lie in our brain's natural desire for cognitive ease. Our brains favour routines and predictability as they help us navigate the world efficiently.

However, this efficiency can become a liability when the circumstances change, and our brains, favouring the initial plan, may fail to adapt quickly enough.

There are a number of reasons why people might fall victim to plan continuation bias, including:

  1. It can be difficult to admit that we were wrong or that our original plan was not the best one.

  2. We may have already invested a lot of time, effort, or money into the plan, and we don't want to give up on it now.

  3. We may simply be afraid of change or the unknown.

In the context of legal proceedings, Plan Continuation Bias can become particularly problematic.

Lawyers and their clients might become overly committed to an initial legal strategy, finding it difficult to pivot or adapt when new evidence is introduced or when the landscape of the case changes. This can lead to missed opportunities for negotiation, settlement, or other advantageous pathways.

Understanding and recognizing Plan Continuation Bias can help us make better decisions, particularly in complex and dynamic situations such as legal cases. It encourages us to remain flexible, to regularly reassess our strategies, and to remain open to new information and perspectives.

The following template letter, designed for use at the beginning of a legal retainer, outlines the concept of Plan Continuation Bias and suggests ways in which lawyers and clients can work together to mitigate its potential impact on their case.

By being aware of this bias, we can strive to make the most effective decisions, always keeping the client's best interests at the forefront.

Template letter

Dear [Client's Name],

I am writing to you at the onset of your retainer of my law practice, to discuss a common cognitive phenomenon which impacts the decision-making process during the course of legal cases: Plan Continuation Bias.

Plan Continuation Bias is a cognitive bias that has been recognised across multiple disciplines, including psychology and behavioural economics.

It is the tendency for individuals or groups to continue with a set plan or course of action, even when new information or changed circumstances suggest that the original plan is no longer optimal or even viable.

This bias can emerge in any decision-making context, including in legal proceedings.

In the legal arena, Plan Continuation Bias may manifest in various ways. For example, we may become attached to our initial legal strategy and find it challenging to adapt when new evidence arises or circumstances change. In the context of settlement negotiations, we may become entrenched in our initial expectations about what a fair settlement would look like and could overlook potentially beneficial opportunities for compromise.

As we embark on this journey together, it is crucial that we are aware of and actively work to counteract Plan Continuation Bias. Here are a few steps we can take:

  1. Embrace Flexibility: Let's remain open to reconsidering our strategy as the case progresses. While it is important to have a plan, we should not become so attached to it that we overlook better options or fail to adapt to changing circumstances.

  2. Regular Reassessment: Throughout the case, let's make it a point to reassess our strategic decisions at regular intervals. This will ensure that we are not blindly following a preset plan and are incorporating new information as it becomes available.

  3. Open Communication: Always feel free to share your thoughts, concerns, and new information you may come across. Open and honest communication can help us avoid becoming too anchored to our initial expectations.

  4. Objective Analysis: We will make every effort to objectively analyze the strengths and weaknesses of our case, as well as the risks and benefits associated with various strategies. This includes regularly reassessing our position in any settlement negotiations.

  5. Engage in "Devil's Advocacy": Occasionally, we will need to play the "devil's advocate" to challenge our assumptions and explore different perspectives. This can help us avoid falling into the trap of Plan Continuation Bias.

Our shared goal is to ensure the best possible outcome for your case. I believe that by being aware of, and actively working to mitigate, Plan Continuation Bias, we can make more effective decisions that align with this goal. I look forward to our collaboration in this endeavour.

If you have any questions or require further clarification on this or any other aspect of your case, please do not hesitate to let me know.

Best regards,

[Lawyer]

Navigating Uncertainty: The Role of Computational Irreducibility in Legal Practice

  • This article explores the concept of "computational irreducibility" and its impact on legal practice.

  • It draws parallels between legal cases and complex systems like chess, where outcomes are difficult to predict.

  • It emphasises the importance of flexibility and preparedness in legal strategies due to inherent unpredictability.

Perth Lawyer Richard Graham

"Computational irreducibility" is a concept from the field of cellular automata and more broadly from the study of complex systems, first introduced by scientist Stephen Wolfram in his book "A New Kind of Science."

In essence:

  • Computational irreducibility suggests that for some processes, the only way to know the outcome is to perform the computation itself – there are no "shortcuts" or simpler ways to predict the result.

  • This is in contrast to "computational reducibility," where one can predict outcomes without having to simulate or perform the entire process.

  • In certain systems, despite knowing all the rules and initial conditions, the only way to predict the final outcome is to actually carry out the entire process. There's no shortcut, no formula that can give you the answer without going through each step.

For example, in a game of chess, despite the game's rules being quite simple, the number of potential games is SO LARGE, that there's no feasible way to predict the outcome of a game without actually playing it out – each game of chess is computationally irreducible.

The number of possible chess games is so large that it is difficult to comprehend. It has been estimated that there are more possible chess games than there are atoms in the universe. This is because there are so many different ways that the pieces can be moved and so many different possible outcomes.

There are 16 possible moves for the first move in chess. After the first move, there are 32 possible moves for the second move, and so on. This means that there are 16 * 32 * 32 * ... * 32 = 10^43 possible chess games after 64 moves!

I’ve been thinking about this concept "computational irreducibility" for years, and I began thinking about it again after seeing this YouTube video of a conversation between Lex Fridman and Stephen Wolfram:

Life in an illusion: The fabric of reality is constantly being rewritten | Stephen Wolfram

The whole clip is fascinating and worth watching (many times).

At 3:28 mins, Stephen Wolfram says:

… where everything in the world is full of computational irreducibility we never know what's going to happen next the only way we can figure out what's going to happen next is just let the system run and see what happens …

The concept of computational irreducibility has significant implications in fields like physics, computer science, and philosophy. For instance, if the universe is computationally irreducible, as Wolfram suggests, then it means that even with a complete understanding of physical laws, there may be no way to predict certain phenomena without simulating the entire history of the universe up to that point.

The concepts also applies in other, less scientific-based fields.

For me, the idea rings true in the legal profession.

When a client approaches us at the outset of a legal dispute, they often seek reassurance and clarity about how the case might unfold.

While we can provide them with our insights based on our experience and understanding of the law, the reality is that each legal case is a complex system, much like a game of chess.

We're dealing with a myriad of variables - evolving evidence, human emotions, changing laws, judicial discretion, and so much more.

This mindset becomes increasingly relevant as the world becomes more complex.

It's tempting to think that with enough expertise, we can predict the outcome of a case before it reaches trial. However, the concept of computational irreducibility reminds us that the only surefire way to see the result is to go through the process itself - every negotiation, every application, every piece of discovery, every testimony.

This doesn't mean we can't provide valuable advice or make educated predictions.

What it does highlight is the importance of preparing for a range of potential outcomes and staying agile in our strategies.

In the world of law, as in complex computational systems, “sometimes the journey is the only way to the destination” (Ralph Waldo Emerson).