My dad was a cab driver and my mum a factory worker. She was also a photographer’s assistant and met my dad at a wedding. After that she vowed to never drink again because she met my dad.
I went to a local state school in Wembley. I got into Oxford. There weren’t many people who went to university from that school. It was a very varied background; English wasn’t the first language for probably half of the kids at home. But it was a good school and I had teachers that cared.
The idea to go to Oxford came in part from my brother, who is massively into the arts. Brideshead Revisited was on the telly and he was going: ‘It would be fantastic if you went to Oxford and had a teddy bear.’ It sort of stuck. I thought: ‘Right, I’m going to give it a go.’
I had one teacher who was really supportive and helped me. We had no experience in our school of the process or anything. Didn’t have Oxford training. But I had extra lessons. He didn’t ask for any money or anything. He carried on helping me even though he had left the school. It was brilliant.
He said: ‘Much as you have been one of my brightest students, you are going to massively disappoint me because you are going to go into the City, or some corporate job.’ I was massively into politics, but he was a card-carrying member of the Communist Party.
I was considering doing politics, philosophy and economics at Oxford but didn’t like all the maths. L.A. Law was my inspiration – Arnie Becker and his motorbike – really sad. To me the law was barristers standing up in court with wigs.
There was a job advertised by Quarry Dougall, which at that point was Alistair Dougall and Gareth Quarry – just the two of them in a little two-room office in Bedford Row. It was for a Cayman Islands lawyer, at $100,000 tax-free. I walked in and said: ‘I am here for the Cayman Islands job.’ They said: ‘How qualified are you?’ I said: ‘I’ve just done my law degree.’ They looked at me like I was a complete eejit and asked if I had done my articles. No. Place at law school? Don’t be silly. They sat down and wrote letters for me. Got a job at A&O.
I qualified in 1992 and I left A&O in 2001. Eleven years altogether, including two years of a training contract. My time there was fantastic. When I joined A&O it wasn’t quite the established Magic Circle firm it is now. Outside of London it had New York, Paris and something in the Middle East. It was just going on that journey.
I went on secondment straight away to a client in the States. The client was Lord Ashcroft. Fantastic experience and it was great being with someone like Michael. A real self-made, massive entrepreneur. I twigged how important the law is in terms of driving corporate wheels. You don’t just paper a deal. You would send Michael reams and reams of paper, and he would never send back more than one page of facts – an instructive moment in understanding what clients want from their lawyers.
I said: ‘I am here for the Cayman Islands job.’ They looked at me like I was a complete eejit.
Corporate was what I always wanted to do. There was an adrenaline buzz. I worked on a deal and it was in the paper. There is a short-term reward thing – often if you are in litigation it can last years and years and years. For someone like me, who gets bored quickly, having that quick turnaround is important.
A&O was always a bit different. And in a way I always draw parallels between Osborne Clarke and A&O because I think of it as the least stuffy of the Magic Circle. By definition it’s different and to me that is innovative because you get different ideas. It started to do deal rooms and online stuff pretty much before its competitors. It was willing to give things a go.
I was offered partnership at A&O if I went to Poland. I said: ‘Why would I go to Poland?’ There was an expectation that if you are part of an international firm and you want the lawyers to be international you have got to work in different locations. I get it and I buy into it. I had worked in Florida and Belize. I was well up for that. Had the rotation been Madrid or New York, it might have been different.
Joining OC was a massive opportunity. I could see where the firm wanted to go and had the potential to do it. It was kind of funky. I felt more comfortable in my own skin. Rather than feeling that I was having to be something slightly different. That is why I have been more successful here.
My wife was a lawyer and is now in a second career as an artist. People of my age are the first generation of male partners with working wives. We had to really struggle with work/life balance issues between the two of us. We were lucky because we live in Islington, but we would always have this – ‘It’s half-six. One of us has got to be home for the nanny!’ We could run it right up to the wire and jump in a cab at 6.25pm. That is something we are trying to help with at OC.
There is a big piece around diversity for the blokes. We introduced an enhanced shared parental leave programme and we have had only one guy take it up because there is a perception that as a bloke if you take enhanced parental leave it is career-damaging. Lawyers generally are a really benign profession, and I think they are a lot more encouraging and supportive of diversity. One of the biggest barriers is the external perception that lawyers are old, fusty, crusty, white, male, pale and stale. They are, but not as bad as some other professions. If you take something like technology, 16% or 17% of the senior leadership positions in Google are held by females. Most partnerships in the City have more than 20% female partners.
If you crack social mobility in terms of diversity, you will get access to a much greater number of under-represented groups. You will increase representation of LGBT and you will change that dynamic of first-generation university or privately-educated kids. Diversity drives innovation and creativity, and the most successful firms are those that are the most innovative.
Innovation gets confused with technology. We are changing the way we work here. That is the biggest innovation. Unallocated desks – we have been open plan for 15 or 20 years. People have been able to work from home for ages; the reason is because we have tooled them up with IT. We trust our people.
I know how to have fun. I may go to a few less away games with Spurs than I used to, but I can’t complain that I miss out on too much partying.
Becoming a managing partner here has been the absolute highlight. Simon [Beswick] has been one of the standout law firm leaders of my era, so to be entrusted with the job after him was a real personal endorsement. It felt like taking over from Alex Ferguson. I said: ‘I hope it’s not like David Moyes.’ Simon’s a big Liverpool fan so I hoped it would be more like Bob Paisley. Fortunately, touch wood, it has turned out a bit more like that.
Although I’ve enjoyed being a corporate lawyer, I’ve enjoyed being a managing partner ten times more.
The biggest challenge for any lawyer, particularly when you get into a leadership role, is to stop. Get your head out from the shit, breathe, and look around you. I know how to have fun. I may go to a few less away games with Spurs than I used to, but I can’t complain that I miss out on too much partying.
I’ve got a place in Ibiza and, especially during the summer, I go. I can work out there if I need to, I am always contactable. It is really important. I still try to have a date night with my wife once a week, just because it is a bit of time for me.
I am a Londoner through and through. I couldn’t envisage living anywhere else in the UK.
The current partners are just custodians of Osborne Clarke for the next generation. Our job is about ensuring what we pass on to them is in a better position than now. It is not about ripping profits out.
Arrogance with clients gets you so far at a certain level. But it is not a sustainable model. As buyers of legal services get more sophisticated, and they challenge and push back, that is not going to be a winning strategy.
What would be my one tip if you were going to become a lawyer? Learn to code software. Whether it is five years or ten years, it’s coming. And developing technology on an iterative process will be part of a lawyer’s job. There are absolutely no two ways about that.
I can’t contemplate retiring. I can’t imagine sitting around, playing golf. I am the most fidgety person I know. I would like to do something in the law or around law, particularly on the social mobility bit – beating law firms up about doing more around social mobility and diversity. I would like to be able to help people do what I’ve been able to do.
Advice? Enjoy it. And if you’re not enjoying it, you’re either in the wrong firm, the wrong practice area or the wrong career. And if you’re not enjoying it, change one of those things because it should be and is a really rewarding career. I’ve loved it.
Ray Berg is UK managing partner at Osborne Clarke