Words by Jeffrey Arthur
I spoke to the barrister about his book, the law – and why we all need to care about our legal rights.
The legal profession has long had a reputation for being…well…snobbish. Lawyers haven’t exactly enjoyed the best PR for time immemorial. Take Shakespeare’s Henry VI, for example, with its famous “first, let’s kill all the lawyers” line. That was in 1596 – and in 2018, that sentiment was repeated in a viral song; only this time, with some instrumentals, backup dancers and colourful suits. Are all lawyers really as arrogant as Harvey “I don’t play the odds, I play the man” Spector, you might ask?
The obvious answer is no – and none more so than Christian Weaver. Talking to him is an experience – and a really good one. Over Zoom, dressed down in a black tracksuit jumper (we approve of his Sunday style), he broke down his new book, The Law In 60 Seconds, his reasons for writing, and what he wants us all to take from it.
The book itself isn’t huge – but with more than 260 pages to wade through, the first question was pretty obvious: “why the law in 60 seconds ?” He laughs, explaining that the title originated from his days on YouTube, where he’d break down different legal concepts in 60 seconds or so. As luck would have it, those videos did well. Who knew people cared about their rights, eh?
For the book, he asks you to think of it this way: “In 60 seconds, you can learn new bits of law”. If it worked for the publishers, it works for us.
“I called the videos the law in 60 seconds… from there it was a natural evolution.”
Explaining the law on Youtube has its perks. For Weaver, it was a good platform to inform others about the law, giving them the tools they need to understand how the law affects their everyday activities. It also helps, mind you, when the person giving that information is as cool and collected as Weaver. Shy, humble and with a warm persona, he doesn’t take much to compliments, choosing to look down or stare awkwardly whenever plaudits (and there were many) came his way during our chat. What he really wanted to do was solve a problem – a problem of people continuously asking him for legal advice, feeling as if there were no other resources they could access.
Hence the book, with its 12 chapters – “Renting”, “Relationships”, “Shopping”, “Transport”, “Healthcare”, “Money”, “Employment”, “Alcohol and Drugs”, “The Digital World”, “Activism”, “On the Street”, and “The Justice System” – which, he says, “the everyday member of the public is most likely to want answers to. “And also, imagine I fall out with my friend and he deletes my whole page on Youtube. At least with the book, it’s there forever.”
His work is different – and brilliantly so – from the usual jargon, Latin-filled legal books available. As a writer, he’s acutely aware of his reader, dancing effortlessly between complicated areas of law and examples that relate to his target audience. “For the last ten years, I’ve written a daily diary”, he tells me, after I ask how he learnt to have a way with words. Hidden in the pages of his diary entries are thoughts on becoming a lawyer, something he first thought about in college. I asked what kind of law he wanted to practice – and without much thought or hesitation, he replied: “Human rights.” Now, as an actual human rights barrister (or to you and I, the people in wigs), he’s proud of all the progress made. He has little interest in doing anything else.
Like most lawyers with an eye for equality, he’s aware of the need to increase diversity in all areas of the profession. It’s something he’s keen to play a role in changing, “but that’s not necessarily the job of this book, though.” Explaining things to people – especially their legal rights – and relating to them in a way they understand is the first, critical step. And whislt he’s shy to admit it, Weaver’s book does so brilliantly well. From shopping trips to Amazon’s Alexa, being stopped and searched to the law on drugs and alcohol, he talks his way through our rights and the law with authority and finesse. On the more serious topics – including workplace discrimination and sexual and domestic abuse – he strikes the perfect balance, treating his readers with care on sensitive issues. In a break from his usual cool, shy self, Weaver sat up, slightly animated as he reaffirmed the point of this whole exercise: “people should know their rights.” That, at its core, is what The Law in 60 Seconds is all about. “The sad reality”, Weaver says, “is that we’ve normalised not knowing our rights.”
“Learning your rights is the first step you can take to take control of your life”
The language of the book itself is plain and simple. It’s almost as if it was specifically written for younger people. Refusing to be drawn on age limits, he offered a smile, choosing to term it those under 40, instead. He wants them to take “a foundation level confidence” in their rights, adding that it might also enable them to “stand up for those who don’t know their rights.” But the book isn’t a lawyer, and it’s not going to account for an actual person giving legal advice. It just serves to give people – people like you and I – a much better understanding of where we stand when confronted with everyday legal issues.
As he chats through the book’s mission of explaining people’s basic legal rights, I take him back to the first few pages of the book – and more specifically, his instructions on how to use it: “Phone – check. Keys – check. The Law in 60 seconds – check.” “Do you actually take it out with you all the time?”, I ask? Without hesitation, he replies: “Yes.” “If you ever see me, it’s on me.”
Weaver isn’t the first to take on the task of explaining the law to us mere mortals. The infamous The Secret Barrister, the closest thing the legal profession has to a vigilante (without the violence), is another who’s taken on a similar mission, though about different legal topics. Is this in part because of social media? Is social media now essential for the legally minded? “Not necessarily”, Weaver says, “I don’t think it’s essential for lawyers to have an online presence.” Social media has done a lot to change the way lawyers are seen, and Weaver points to The Secret Barrister’s big social media following as an example.
Asked about specific examples of how the book can help, he flicked through the pages of the brightly coloured book, picking out instances where The Law in 60 Seconds can come in handy: “So when I was writing the shopping chapter, I’m realising that five years ago I was ripped off – I needed it [The Law In 60 Seconds] then.” After that, he jumps from chapter to chapter, chatting through ways the book could help in different situations.
“It’s a beautiful feeling” is how he describes knowing that a chapter on a particular topic will help someone out, giving them the tools they need to avoid being taken advantage of – whether by their landlord or an employer. He also spoke of the stress of writing a book, and not being able to see people for long periods of time. That stress, he mentions, was relieved by the help he received, including the charities that helped ensure the accuracy of the book: “In the acknowledgements page, I’ve literally listed everyone.”
To round off, we chat about style, his personal inspirations and everything in-between. For starters, he doesn’t care much about legal TV dramas. Harvey Specter hasn’t managed to charm him (although Weaver admits “he’s kind of cool”) – and nor has he come across the force of Annalise Keating. On style, simplicity rules (we agree), he says, favouring tailored pieces over everything else. He counts the likes of Barack Obama and Stephen Barlett as people he looks up to – and he’d dine, if given the choice, with Michelle Obama (“I feel like I can’t say Barack again!”).
For all his accomplishments, intelligence, and charm, Weaver’s brilliance lies in his willingness to help, to write something with the sole aim of equipping others with the information they need. The Law In 60 Seconds isn’t meant to be a holiday read, and nor is it meant to end up on your list of favourite thrillers. It’s a guide, a silent but reliable resource for the average person. Having read it, I know and understand the importance of a book like this. It’s needed, I thought, for the young Black boy confronted with the possibility of being stopped and searched; it’s needed for the vulnerable student at risk of being cheated by their landlord; and it’s needed for the person at risk of emotional, physical and sexual abuse by a partner.
After the interview, I spoke to my mum about my chat with Weaver – and about his work. “Sounds like he’s doing the Lord’s work”, she said.