Closing a successful practice is painful, says Joy Merriam, as she analyses the problems facing high street firms and the impact on society


The day before Christmas Eve last year I closed the doors on Joy Merriam and Co for the last time. This high street legal aid practice had opened in 1987 with the aim of serving the local community in east London. This was achieved for many years and recalling thousands of old files from storage for destruction I was struck by just how many people we had helped.


The firm remained busy and profitable right to the end and is listed in the current edition of the Chambers Directory as a leader in its field in crime. Colleagues, judges, counsel and clients have all been shocked by the decision to close.


Why, then? The answer lies in the multiplicity of problems facing high street legal aid practices today and particularly those specialising in crime. I was not the first and I certainly will not be the last. I fear we are witnessing the demise of the high street legal aid practice.

I undertook my articles in such a practice, and in the days before specialisation we were able to provide the holistic service that the Legal Services Commission is now promoting. The much maligned green form scheme enabled basic legal advice on a number of subjects to be given to clients. However, with the deluge of legislation that simple approach became impossible and specialisation was seen as the way forward. My practice only undertook crime, family and conveyancing. The slippage in access to justice began. Soon it was difficult to refer to a provider for a number of areas of law that would have once been the mainstay of such practices.


The gap widened between publicly and privately funded work. There has been no real increase in legal aid rates for many years; and, more perniciously, in crime there were the creeping reductions in 'scope', so that whole areas of work that had once been covered were not. The successor to the green form scheme (the CDS2) was effectively abolished in the criminal proceedings class - meaning that those who would not merit a representation order had no access to publicly funded legal advice.


If one adds into the equation the administration engendered by the quality mark, practice rule 15, health and safety, employment legislation, and all manner of European regulation, it is easy to see how the burden on the small practice becomes insurmountable. Insufficient in size to employ a practice manager, the partners are reduced to juggling their roles as administrators with their fee-earning work; and the working day grows ever longer, with work-free weekends a distant memory.


An additional problem is recruitment, in that, quite simply, there is no one coming through to relieve the burden. Few of those qualifying are prepared to go into publicly funded work - and who can blame them? Consequently, it is difficult to recruit staff; and, sadly, in an employees' market it is difficult to manage staff effectively as the offer of a higher paid job down the road is always there.


So what is the problem if the high street practice has had its day? In a society where there is an underclass who are increasingly isolated and deprived, their high street brief can act as a GP, confessor and friend, who shares their successes and failures. I have acted for many of my clients for more than 20 years.


The personal local service provided by my firm has been an important support to a vulnerable group of people. The social consequences of the demise of the high street practice have yet to be fully appreciated. For me, the bright lights of London's west end beckon, as I move to join a practice there. But I leave the east end with a heavy heart.


Joy Merriam is now a consultant at London-based law firm O'Keeffe