Category: The GSC Story

The first indication of Clive Halperin’s lengthy relationship with technology is the distinctly veteran Apple Macintosh that now occupies a purely ornamental position on his office shelf. “It’s always interested me,” he explains. “Even before I was a pharmacist, I was interested in tech.”

For the latest in our series of GSC Stories celebrating 50 years of GSC Solicitors LLP, Clive looks at the past and future relationship between technology and the law.

Technology was slow to make an impact on the legal sector. In the ‘olden days’, as someone once told me, the day’s post would arrive at your desk. You would open it, dictate your letters to your secretary and then press on with a day which, in the main, would unfold exactly as planned. Nobody emailed you. Telephone calls were always by appointment. The most unexpected event would be the bank sending a messenger round with some papers.

Today, the immediacy of email and the ability to access a legal library at your desk has genuinely transformed legal practice. It not only changed the way we communicate; it changed the entire pace of the profession.

Law and the limits of technology

We are now seeing next generation technology being applied to legal work. Machine learning is helping lawyers analyse documents. The ability to crunch data in an ‘intelligent’, super-efficient way is starting to support document production and due diligence. This capability will be increasingly applied to large transactions, yet there is a limit to how far AI and the law can progress.

That’s because the law requires judgment. It’s about testing theories to see if they stand up. Computers are excellent at identifying the outliers in a vast range of data, which could be of huge benefit in complex transactional matters, but I don’t yet see that AI will be creating laws anytime soon.

Impossible choices

A far more immediate issue is the legal (and philosophical and moral) complexities presented by new technology. How do you instruct a self-driving car to make those difficult choices, such as who to crash into where the crash is inevitable, and the car cannot avoid injuring one party or another? Who does it choose? What is the liability of the programmer or organisation that made that decision? What are the ramifications on the insurance industry of such choices?

Then, as machines become ever more intelligent and learn to develop their own software, who is responsible for the decisions they make and systems they design?

These are more than fascinating hypotheticals. These are very real concerns and they are being explored now.

Adapting to change

In his lifetime, my Dad has seen the invention of television, Concorde, the Space Shuttle, the internet, mobile phones, antibiotics, heart transplants and nuclear power. The pace of change gets ever faster, but we can take some encouragement from the fact that the scale of change is perhaps diminishing a touch. Change is now more iterative and less seismic. It gives the law a chance to adapt and we should feel confident that the law can cope with such developments, just as it has coped with every other development over the last century.

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In March 2020, in common with many other UK businesses, every member of the GSC team began a prolonged period of enforced remote working. All, that is, except one. Throughout the pandemic, office manager Sian Bearfield remained in the office, ensuring our people had the equipment and information they needed to keep delivering legal services to our clients.

For the latest in our series celebrating 50 years of GSC Solicitors LLP, Sian shares her story.

A few weeks before lockdown arrived the direction of travel became clear: we needed to begin making preparations for if (and more likely when) the country shut down.

Many of our fee earners already had the facility to work from home, but the office was always the default. The bulk of the IT was here. All of the support staff were entirely office based.

In the two weeks before Boris Johnson made his Monday night address to the nation, I was busy ensuring everyone had the equipment they needed at home. Most fee earners worked from two screens in the office, but at home they tended to use just their laptops. With no idea how long the lockdown might last, I cleared our office of as much equipment as possible, shipping out anything that could be spared (monitors, keyboards etc) so everyone could create a set-up as close as possible to the one they enjoyed in the office.

It wasn’t just their ability to do their jobs that mattered; I needed to be mindful of everyone’s wellbeing, so setting up each member of the team for home working was also a matter of ergonomics, posture, mental well-being and best practice in terms of screentime. I didn’t know it at that point, but we were all about to become familiar with Zoom fatigue.

“You must stay at home”

Every member of the support team was also set up for remote working and, on Monday 23 March 2020, we ran a full trial, with every member of the GSC team working remotely. That evening, the Prime Minister made his “From this evening people must stay at home…” address. GSC’s offices—together with the rest of the City of London—fell silent.

I think many of us suspected lockdown might last couple of months. In the end it was almost double that. For virtually all of that time, I was the only person in the office. Three days a week I made the journey to Ely Place, where I would distribute the post that still arrived daily, send files requested by our solicitors and continue to send out equipment when our people needed it. When the day’s immediate issues were resolved I would write up some of the office policies that needed to be made digital: first on the list, our Covid policy.

Staying connected

It was a tough period. Coming into work every day was eerie. I felt alone. I suspect everyone else felt much the same, which is why I spent so much of my day ringing round team members, ensuring they felt supported. The partners were at pains to ensure that, even though we were not physically together, we remained a team and everyone had a duty to support everyone else.

Our two office-wide Zoom calls each week became really important. One was entirely work-focused. The other was entirely social, an opportunity to just talk, to connect, to see another friendly face. We knew without it, it wasn’t just relationships that would suffer; the work would too.

Stepping up

I’ve always felt the role of the support team is to stay in the background and to quietly go about the business of ensuring everything runs like clockwork. It was strange to find myself occupying a far higher-profile role. Even though I didn’t always feel it, I tried to remain calm. I relied on process and organisation, staying on top of new information to ensure things ran smoothly, because I knew people were relying on me.

We really did make the best of a horrible situation. I’m extremely proud that we all came through it.

One day, months later, I arrived at the office to find I wasn’t the only person there. After being on my own for so long it was quite an emotional feeling. I’d missed it. I’d missed them. Just being able to just walk past someone’s desk and talk to them was such a welcome shock to the system. I’ve tried to remember that feeling.

Even now I still walk the office every day, checking in with my GSC family, making sure they have everything they need.

After all— and as we all discovered—you never know when the opportunity to do such simple things may be taken away from you.

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Today, Clive Halperin specialises in corporate and commercial, technology, internet and intellectual property law. Prior to qualifying as a solicitor, he qualified and practised as a pharmacist. What was it that persuaded him to change lanes? For the latest in our series of GSC Stories celebrating 50 years of GSC Solicitors LLP, Clive explains his fascination with the legal world.

I was working in a pharmacy but I was keen to build a broader base of knowledge—something that might at some point help me in running my own pharmacy. With my boss’ agreement I took a business course at night school. One of the modules was law. I found it fascinating and absorbed it all.

I considered taking law further but let the idea percolate for a while. This wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly. When I committed to going to law school, I reasoned that, even if I didn’t like it, some legal education would surely come in useful.

Unpicking the lock

When I started studying, I realised that every element of society in a country like the UK revolves around law. It felt as though my learning gave me the key to unpick the lock of how the world works.

Law is so integral to everyone and every aspect of life. Whether you’re a pharmacist, a doctor, an architect; if you’re buying a product, selling your house or borrowing money, your rights and obligations are governed by the law.

Law influences the relatively small and superficial, like what happens when your builder doesn’t turn up or the dry cleaner damages your clothes. It provides the platform and set of rules for the biggest, most profound things in life like buying a company or getting divorced. If you happen to find yourself getting arrested, it’s the law that will come to your rescue.

Before you study law, the mechanism for this seems quite mysterious and daunting, as though it’s hidden in some big, mysterious cloud. Once you study law, you understand how to analyse and get to grips with a legal problem.

That’s not to say you can be an expert in every area, any more than a surgeon can be an expert in every area of medicine, but you understand the processes; you have the tools and the ability to apply them.

In a country governed by the rule of law, having those tools made me feel as though I was privy to some secret understanding of the way things work.

For me, that’s where the fascination with law always lay. It still does.

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Our lawyers know that the measure of their success is often not whether they win a case in court, but whether they can avoid taking the case to court in the first place. For the latest in our series of GSC Stories, celebrating 50 years of GSC Solicitors LLP, Mark Richardson explores how to reach a better settlement.

It’s often not in the best interests of a client to go to court. It costs a lot of money. It can be incredibly stressful and time consuming. And even if you’re extremely confident in your case, litigation is inherently risky. There’s always an unpredictable element, a risk that the judge will find against you.

Much of a lawyer’s effort will, therefore, be spent attempting to reach a settlement that avoids a court hearing. What follows are five approaches I might take to keep clients out of the courts.

1. Avoid pursuing litigation on a point of principle

I’d always encourage a client to take a dispassionate, commercial view of their case. For example, if your likely legal costs will far exceed the amount you are likely to recover then, even if you’ll obtain a lower amount through an early settlement, that is surely the better option than taking the case to court and running the risk of no recovery at all.

Separating the emotion from a case isn’t always easy for clients. I’ve dealt with numerous cases in which family members or friends in business together suffer a falling out. If they were able to step back and look at things objectively, they would probably take the commercial view and settle. But it’s hard to stay objective when personal relationships are involved. It often becomes a matter of pride. Other issues which should, ideally, remain entirely separate from the case, become wrapped up with it. There’s a reluctance to be the ‘one who backs down’.

In business, however, points of principle can prove costly.

2. Take advantage of Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR)

Mediation or arbitration (just two of several processes which comprise ADR) can lead to a quicker and cheaper settlement with the help of an independent third party. ADR is designed to keep cases out of courts. In fact, failing to engage in ADR may result in you being penalised in costs at any subsequent court hearing.

It is important not to go into the settlement process with an adversarial mindset. That erects barriers and makes it difficult to have any kind of productive communication. Avoid making personal attacks and be open to finding a creative resolution.

3. Disclose expert reports and/or counsel’s opinion

Sending an expert report to the other side which sets out a strong case can encourage settlement. Similarly, while legal advice is normally considered privileged (and therefore not disclosable to the other side), if the advice you obtain overwhelmingly supports your position while condemning the other side, it can sometimes be an effective tactic to waive the privilege and provide a copy of the advice to the other side.

4. Take advantage of ‘part 36’ offers

The Civil Procedure Rules provide a way of settling a claim which puts pressure on the other side to accept a reasonable offer by providing financial incentives to do so. If your offer is not accepted and you obtain a judgment that is at least as advantageous as your offer, the court will award interest, costs on the indemnity basis (which is more generous than the standard basis) and award an additional amount of up to £75,000. This is calculated as being 10% of the money awarded up to £500,000 and 5% of any amount awarded in excess of this up to £1 million. If the case is a non-money claim, this additional amount is calculated on the amount of costs ordered instead.

For many, the risk of these significant additional costs can be enough to encourage them to settle.

5. Don’t delay – take advice

Where litigation appears to be a possibility, you should obtain professional advice at the earliest possible opportunity. The earlier you act, the greater the chance that you’ll reduce costs and save time. Taking early action may help you avoid litigation entirely.

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When Saleem Sheikh became Managing Partner of GSC Solicitors LLP in 1990, he saw an opportunity to shape a different sort of law firm: a “firm that has a heart”. In the latest in our series of GSC Stories, celebrating 50 years of the firm, Saleem explains why he felt a change of direction was necessary – and how he made it happen.

When I became Managing Partner of the firm, I felt I had more autonomy to make the business more diverse, to expand our portfolio of services and admit a new generation of like-minded partners.

We had, like many (if not most) law firms at the time, been a rather authoritarian organisation. I felt our staff turnover was too high and part of the reason for that was that we were not especially open to fresh ideas. We probably weren’t as welcoming or collaborative as we could have been.

I wanted to make it a friendlier firm, a family firm in the sense that everyone here felt invested in what we were doing and felt able to contribute. A place where everyone really did work as part of a team.

Of course, that can’t happen simply by saying it. You have to follow it through in your actions and in the structures and processes by which we operate.

At the small, personal level we engineered change by demonstrating greater respect for others, by being sensitive to their feelings, and by being honest and upfront with them. We celebrated birthdays. If someone had a significant anniversary with the firm, I’d remember it and acknowledge it. If they were having a tough time or had been ill, we’d send flowers or a basket of fruit. We took time to engage. At a business level we listened more often and more intently to what our people were telling us. We acted on suggestions.

Because I had been a junior member of my legal team in the early days, I had a good understanding of how to gauge the pace and manner of change. I felt I knew what the right moves were – and what the wrong thing would have been.

The change was almost instant. Immediately, you saw more smiles around the office, more people saying how touched they were with the gestures we made. Over a period of time – and not a long period of time – we saw staff turnover reduce. People said they felt much more a part of the GSC family. Loyalty is not something you can demand or expect automatically. It requires respect and openness for loyalty to flourish.

Long term partners. Trusted advisors

From our clients’ perspectives, I believe our shift in emphasis made us less of a transactional law firm. We weren’t simply the people to do a deal for clients who would then move on. We became much more focused on the long term, on building genuine partnerships with clients who saw (and see) us as an integral part of their lives and businesses.

I’ve often said that I believe our legacy at GSC Solicitors LLP is that we have created a firm with a beating heart – a law firm that feels. That is what has enabled our transition from ‘just’ lawyers to trusted advisors. I believe it is a major factor in our longevity.

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What do you do when the FBI comes knocking? GSC Solicitors’ Harvey Posener saw the funny side…

I’ve been responsible for compliance at GSC Solicitors LLP for many years. It was in this capacity, around twenty years ago, that I got a phone call from the wonderful Annie on reception.

“There’s a policeman here,” she said. “He wants to talk to somebody.”

“Oh really?” I replied. Now wasn’t the best time. “Could you tell him I’m busy right now but if he’d like to make an appointment I’d be happy to see him.”

A moment later and the phone was ringing again. Annie sounded a little more agitated this time. “I think you’d better come down,” she said. “He’s from the Serious Fraud Office (SFO). There’s an American officer with him from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives (ATF).”

A dramatic pause.

“And there’s an FBI agent with them. I think you might want to come down.”

I thought I might not want that.

A little hesitantly I went downstairs and showed the gentlemen into a conference room. We talked for about an hour and it very quickly became clear that neither the firm nor the client had done anything remotely wrong. It did, however, seem that someone our client was in the process of putting a deal together with had attracted the attention of some heavyweight law enforcement agencies.

The agents asked I could assist their enquiries. “I’d love to,” I said, “but you know that, as a solicitor, I’m subject to a duty of confidentiality. You fully accept that our clients are nothing to do with the fraud so I’m not in a position to help you.”

The agents tried again. “What happens,” they asked, “if we stay here and get a notice served under Section 2 of PACE (the Police and Criminal Evidence Act)?”

That notice would be sufficient to override the duty of confidentiality, so I said that would be fine. They asked for contact details. I gave them and went back to my room to wait for notice.

Around an hour later, Senior Partner Saleem Sheikh was buzzing me. Even the buzzer sounded urgent. “Can you come to my room?” he asked in a rather panicked voice.

Saleem was ashen and shaken. In has hand he clutched a ream of papers on which the SFO, ATF and FBI’s names were clearly visible. He waved them at me. “What on earth is going on?” he spluttered, clearly imagining the sensational headlines.

I’d given the FBI Saleem’s name and fax number.

It took me a while to give him the full explanation. I was too busy rolling on the floor laughing.

John Green is a founding partner of Green David Conway and Co, the firm that would become GSC Solicitors LLP. In this, the latest in our series of GSC Stories celebrating 50 years of GSC, he discusses his journey into the law, and the decision to leave his full time role with the firm some 40 years later.

The journey into law

I went to a local grammar school but didn’t get on with my headmaster. He refused to give me a recommendation for university because he said I was unsuitable so I left school in 1963 and went to Israel.

After around three months I was running low on funds. I phoned my father asking him to send me some money. He refused, telling me I could either stay where I was (broke) or come back and get a job. I chose the latter but needed to make a decision about which job.

If I went into the law, I thought, I could be independent, could have some status and I could probably earn some money. So I did five years as an articled clerk (I was at law school with David Conway, with whom I would later go into partnership) and qualified in 1970.

I spent a year at Nabarro Nathanson post-qualification but I didn’t want to work my way up in a big firm, spending 20 years in lockstep climbing the partnership ladder. I didn’t want to be told what to do. I wanted to do the work I wanted to do, and I wanted to be free to do things outside of the practice. At the time I didn’t want to form a partnership either!

But I did want to start my own firm. Although you can’t do that now as a newly qualified solicitor, you could then. So I started my own company: John Green and Co.

The decision to leave the law

It was 2000 and a chap who was working with us at the time came to me and asked if he could have a word.

He sat down, got straight to the point, and said he wanted to leave. I said I was sorry to hear that and asked why. It seemed there was barely room in his life for the law. His wife’s family had a farm in Provence and they spent time there. He had two young children. He coached the local cricket team and was into amateur dramatics. It occurred to me that, on a  relatively low salary, he was having a considerably better life than I was.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said.

I said he could.

“You come in at eight o’clock in the morning. You take work home with you every evening. You’re in on Saturdays and Sundays, aren’t you?”

I nodded, wondering where this was going.

“Can I ask you why?”

I awkwardly gave him some guff about people and families and mortgages and all the rest of it. He thought about this for a moment before asking if he could pose one last question. Regretting ever agreeing to the conversation I said yes while fearing I should probably have said no.

“I think you’re mad.”

The conversation stayed with me. Six months later I walked into Saleem’s office and said I’d be leaving in a year.

I’ve remained a consultant with GSC Solicitors LLP in the years since I retired, but now I run a private property company. I’m also involved in a restaurant group with my sons and we have restaurants in Japan, Europe and in the UK, so that occupies my time.

I had a wonderful time in the law. I enjoyed doing interesting work for clients I liked. But I don’t miss it!

Saleem Sheikh, senior partner of GSC Solicitors LLP, has been part of the fabric of the City law firm for over 40 years. But in early-1980s London it was tough for any young Asian to find a way into a legal profession that was anything but welcoming.

In this story in our series of GSC Stories celebrating 50 years of GSC Solicitors LLP, Saleem celebrates the people who saw his merit and potential.

Mercifully, I didn’t encounter much racism at all when I was at university and at the College of Law. I’d experienced it before, of course. I had arrived in the UK in 1967 from Kenya, the son of parents who had left India for Pakistan during the partition, and then left Pakistan for East Africa. I was the only Asian boy in my class at school and I was the butt of all the insults you might imagine. But by the time I had reached the latter stages of my academic career my world was a meritocracy. You stood or fell on your own abilities, and I was proving myself able.

So it was jarring to find that, when I came to apply for articles, things did not appear so simple. I knew that, despite my qualifications being as good as, if not better, than other applicants, the clients of the firms to which I was applying might not appreciate someone with the surname Sheikh as their legal representative.

Eventually I secured articles with a large City firm, although the offer felt lukewarm – as though it was more a result of their running out of reasons not to give me the job rather than actively wanting me.

As always at that time, my confidante and source of wisdom, advice and encouragement was Debra Trosser, my lecturer at the LSE. I explained my situation. She suggested I contact her brother-in-law who happened to be the co-founder of a boutique law firm in London.

I didn’t do that. I had an offer and, despite my misgivings, I felt I should probably stick with it.

The next time I ran into Debra, she challenged me. Why hadn’t I made the call? She insisted that we went for a drink, where we were joined by a rather imposing, grey-haired gentleman who also demanded to know why I hadn’t been in touch. This was John Green, co-founder of Green David Conway & Co, the firm which would in time become GSC Solicitors LLP. I mumbled something to John about my existing offer.

“In years to come,” he said, “there are going to be a lot of successful Asian clients who may need a commercial lawyer like you.” This was different. Here was a man actively seeking to recruit me, a man who saw the potential in me and the opportunity I represented for the firm.

John Green offered me the position of Green David Conway & Co’s first articled clerk in 1981.

I had a choice to make, and as ever in such matters, I asked my father, Manzoor-Ul-Haq Sheikh, for his advice. My father was a highly educated man and someone who provided me with constant support and wise counsel.

“Where did you feel most welcome?” he asked. “Where is your heart leading you?” It was leading me to GSC. 41 years later I’m still here.

Like many – perhaps every – person of colour in the UK at that time, I felt I had to work harder, do more and prove more because I was in a minority. I do believe everyone should achieve on merit alone. I say precisely that to the young lawyers I support today. But everyone, no matter what their colour or gender, should be given an equal opportunity to demonstrate that merit.