Daniel Winterfeldt (pictured above right), general counsel for EMEA and Asia at Jefferies and founder of the InterLaw Diversity Forum, discusses how LGBTQ+ representation in law has changed since the 1990s, the importance of data in driving further progress, and why more than just marches and rainbow lanyards is required

How easy did you find it to come out professionally, and what were the barriers you faced? 

For me, I didn’t really have a choice. I came out at university, and once I’d made the choice to be myself, there was no going back. I was definitely aware that I faced additional challenges and barriers from being out, but I also think you get a lot of benefits, so you have to take the good with the bad.  

Through my involvement with the InterLaw Diversity Forum and working with charities, I’ve gained access to networks, opportunities and relationships. While it’s easy to dwell on the negatives, what’s much more powerful is focusing on the positives and realising all the benefits that have come from being myself and being authentic, including the support from the LGBTQ+ community, as well as the many allies who have stepped forward to help me throughout my career. All of that wouldn’t have been possible if I hadn’t been out. 

In 2008, you established the InterLaw Diversity Forum, which was recently recognised as DE&I: In-house Initiative of the year at the Legal 500 UK ESG Awards. What motivated that? 

It was very isolating when I first came out in 1992. While undertaking a clerkship at the European Court in Luxembourg in 1999, I was one of the only out people there. Some people I knew wouldn’t speak to me in public, or they would only meet in private so we wouldn’t be seen together. When I moved to London in 2000, I was often in law offices of 200-250 people and I would be the only out person or one of just a few.  

By 2008, when I became a partner, I was able to step back and ask, ‘What can I do about this?’. At that point I was running the Forum for US Securities Lawyers in London, which brought together securities lawyers, bankers, intermediaries and people from the London Stock Exchange to discuss capital market issues. Eventually, I realised that if this could work in the US securities space, why couldn’t it work for diversity?  

I knew that we had to have allies involved, because at the time LGBTQ+ people were not in management roles, but I also knew that we needed to provide a safe and welcoming space, so people didn’t feel isolated like I had. 

Once the InterLaw Diversity Forum started, we quickly got involved in research, and we started doing sexual orientation and gender identity-focused research with the Law Society and the Judicial Appointments Commission. We had evolved from being a meeting place to an engine for change.  

I also started encouraging law firms to monitor sexual orientation. There are generational differences around sexual orientation and gender identity and, if you don’t ask the questions, you risk sending a signal that it’s a problem. While collecting sexual orientation and gender identity data is commonplace in UK law firms today, it took time to convince firms that many staff are happy to provide this information if given the chance. 

What would you say has been the InterLaw Diversity Forum’s biggest achievement so far? 

In terms of the LGBTQ+ space, we have helped to move the UK legal sector from being nowhere to being a leader for LGBTQ+ inclusion. People now have networks and they’re recruiting LGBTQ+ talent, running ally programmes and people are marching in Pride – clear progress.

The next challenge is the retention and advancement of LGBTQ+ people to partnership and management, as well as ensuring equal pay for them. In our research, we see a notable volume of LGBTQ+ attrition, larger than any other group we look at, and the LGBTQ+ group is one of the only groups that hasn’t grown at partner level during our research period. We also see stark differences in pay between LGBTQ+ men and their counterparts at the top levels of pay in the profession, so there’s still more work to be done. 

You have to be really looking at and following the data. We can’t mistake visibility and activity for equality. It’s not enough to just march in Pride, have a rainbow lanyard and be part of a network group. And while everyone loves to feel their work is being recognized, awards and rankings are only as good as the true impact they are having on people’s experiences; you need to be doing that next level work to understand where there are mismatches in access to opportunity, reward, or a sense of belonging – and taking steps to address those issues. 

The InterLaw Diversity Forum continues to hold regular events for LGBTQ+ people in the profession and their allies. It has struck me that we are seeing an increase in the number of attendees who tell us they don’t feel comfortable being out at work or at home. In a more challenging climate, the fact that we are continuing to provide a safe space for those in this position is important to me. 

Do you feel an obligation to be in that role model position and use your voice to push change? 

I think I don’t really have a choice, as there aren’t too many of us around. When I first became a partner, people told me I was one of the most senior LGBTQ+ people in the whole community, even though I felt like I was just getting started.  

I’m also very proud of the InterLaw Diversity Forum and how it’s expanded beyond the LGBTQ+ community into networks for race & ethnicity, disability, women, and social mobility. We’re anchored in intersectionality, allyship, culture and leadership, and everything we do is data driven. Our goal is to support everyone and provide a space for everyone, and we look to create access to a wide range of leaders and role models, each bringing different perspectives and experiences. But we also look to discuss the issues that really matter to people. There is a real need to create space for sensitive and serious discussions on the realities of working in the legal sector right now. 

I’m very proud of the change programmes we’ve worked on, such as the UK Model Diversity Survey in collaboration with the American Bar Association, which collects really interesting data for clients from law firms and goes far beyond just headcount to gather meaningful insights into talent, leadership and culture. We have brought together over 45 clients and 30 law firms to collaborate in this space and to share best practice. 

Within the legal sector, what do you think could be done better? And what is the biggest challenge that still needs addressing? 

We’re in a challenging period right now, and that needs to be recognised. Firstly, we need to remind people that talent is the biggest asset of any law firm – the importance of focusing on talent is never going away. All lawyers and all law firms are providing ideas and solutions to clients, so we need the best possible people working together in an inclusive way to get the best outcomes for our clients.  

Secondly, we need to follow the data, and make sure that we are using it to guide and address issues within organisations. Using it to highlight how to get the best talent, keep the best talent and utilise the best talent, and making the most effective use of resources to follow through and achieve our business goals. 

For more, see ‘We’re all nervous right now’ – how a subdued Pride month got caught in the DEI backlash

More Pride Perspectives:

Clare Fielding: ‘I’m a reluctant activist – as a managing partner I have to be conscious of inclusion for everyone’

Patrick McCann: ‘We need more queer managing partners’

Emma Woolcott: ‘We need a plurality of perspectives around the table when decisions are made’

Cai Cherry: ‘It’s easy to think something isn’t your problem – but equality is all of our problem’

DLA Piper associate Cai Cherry on ‘bringing your full self to work’, intersectionality and the importance of active allyship

How easy did you find it to come out professionally, and what were the biggest barriers you had to overcome before you felt ready to come out at work?

When I was growing up, I comforted myself with the idea that even if I was never out, even if I never fell in love or started a family, I could still be successful. I studied hard and lived almost to the point where I forgot I was queer to start with.

But then at university, I found myself slowly embracing the freedoms I had denied myself: wearing the clothes I had envied, watching the TV shows I wanted, listening to the music I liked, and falling in love with the people I was attracted to. I was never ‘in’ at work because it all became so clear that I didn’t have to be.

That’s not to say it’s been smooth sailing: my first supervisor told me that I wasn’t hired to bring my full self to work, I was hired to do my job. But his narrow mind couldn’t comprehend that I was doing my job – and doing a good job at that – because of, not in spite of, the fact I was bringing my full self to work.

I am a good lawyer because I’m confident, because I can understand and empathise with my clients, and because I truly love what I do. I don’t think I could do or be any of those things if I was hiding who I was. 

What motivated you to actively use your voice to advocate for LGBTQ+ voices in the legal sector?  

I was a pretty nerdy kid, obsessed with reading about history and politics and law. I grew up in a small village in the middle of the English countryside – a place that doesn’t celebrate, or even acknowledge, queer people – so diving into the stories of people who could be themselves was how I coped.

I remember when the US Supreme Court legalised gay marriage across the US in Obergefell v Hodges, and reading Justice Kennedy’s majority opinion, where he declared that the hope of the gay couples was ‘not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization’s oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right.’ I grew up being told from a young age that gay marriage wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair, but I found solace in the law; in the idea that a single piece of paper can contain so much hope, can give so much joy, and can stand up for people who need it.

Law gave me so much, it wouldn’t have been fair to not try to give back as much as I can and ensure the same promise that was there for me can be there for everyone: that no matter who you are, no matter how lonely you feel, you have an ally in the law – something so imperfect but with so much potential, an ideal that we can keep striving to meet. Now that I’m a lawyer, you have an ally in me. That motivates me every day. 

How much obligation do you feel to be a role model within the industry? How helpful are role models in pushing change?  

It is so easy to think something isn’t your problem. When it comes to equality, to justice, it is all of our problem.

I don’t feel an obligation to be a role model – and I’m not sure that anyone would really see me as one, anyway. But I do feel an unavoidable and irrepressible obligation to say what is right and to do what is right, as much and as often as I can.

There are so few queer people in law, and the ones I am lucky enough to work with (both as colleagues and clients) give me so much strength and hope and comfort, but the sector as a whole is struggling to diversify. Despite what law firms might say, we have always followed our clients in culture, in technology, in growth, and in inclusion. I think my value as a role model is limited: I cannot force change, I can only encourage it. The real value comes from clients demanding their lawyers are as inclusive as they are. I think that’s the only way we will see concrete change. 

Regarding your identity as both queer and disabled, how important is recognising intersectionality, and how has your own experience with intersectionality impacted your career?  

I came out as queer, and a month later I became disabled. It was a real rollercoaster of a four weeks. I had just started to understand one part of me, and all of a sudden there was a whole different part of me I had to come to grips with pretty quickly, and it was impossible to separate the two in my life.

I am lucky enough to have co-founded and now lead my firm’s disability pro bono practice, alongside my colleague Ashleigh Alli, who is a racial justice specialist, and my colleague Chris Rennie, who founded the first law firm LGBTQ+ network pro bono practice at DLA Piper. We are also building new pro bono offerings for gender equity, social mobility, and families and carers.

We work together not because we recognise intersectionality, but because it is unavoidable (plus I really like working with both of them!). If you try to segregate issues and not look at them holistically, you’re missing the entire puzzle, not just a piece, and you end up doing a worse job overall.  

What does the legal sector need to do better to include people from the LGBTQ+ community and provide support?  

As we saw in Obergefell, and as we have seen in famous cases in the UK, like Dudgeon or Goodwin, the law is often the only and most effective remedy to injustice, but it is also the perpetrator of the very oppression it can relieve. Lawyers are under professional obligations to uphold trust in the profession and to promote diversity, but we are also under a moral duty to do what is right. We need to be proud in our support of the LGBTQ+ community when we are currently seeing the biggest backslide in a generation.

Law firms hold immense economic, political and social power, but they are too cautious about using it, and in doing so, they let us all down. It starts with investing in their own people, by supporting DEI and people networks, by proactively recruiting LGBTQ+ and other marginalised people, and by creating a culture of celebrating people, not just including them.

But it continues with making the world a better place, rather than just the office: by showing up to Pride, by engaging with clients on LGBTQ+ issues outside of legal advice, and by developing robust and effective pro bono practices supporting the LGBTQ+ community, and by being unashamed of doing what is right. Unless we can meet this moment, we will forever look back on it with shame. That’s not an option I am willing to live with.  

What is the single biggest challenge still facing the LGBTQ+ community in City law? How can it be addressed?  

The biggest problem is the people that support the LGBTQ+ community, but aren’t willing to say it. The ones that complain they don’t care what bathrooms people use, but don’t realise that the problem is others do.

Because of a vocal and aggressive minority, we are seeing a real and dangerous erosion in our rights because the majority aren’t showing up for what they believe in.

It can be addressed very simply: by doing something. It takes seconds to google ways to support trans people. It takes seconds to introduce yourself with your pronouns. But it also takes real time, real investment, and real motivation to make a real change. If you’re not willing to do that, that’s your choice, but you are no ally. To those that are willing, we need you more than ever. 

For more, see ‘We’re all nervous right now’ – how a subdued Pride month got caught in the DEI backlash

More Pride Perspectives:

Clare Fielding: ‘I’m a reluctant activist – as a managing partner I have to be conscious of inclusion for everyone’

Patrick McCann: ‘We need more queer managing partners’

Daniel Winterfeldt: ‘We’ve helped move the UK legal sector from nowhere to a leader for LGBTQ+ inclusion’

Emma Woolcott: ‘We need a plurality of perspectives around the table when decisions are made’

Mishcon de Reya reputation protection and crisis management head Emma Woollcott on the importance of LGBTQ+ visibility and the impact of role models.

How easy did you find it to come out professionally? And what were the biggest barriers you had to overcome before you felt ready to come out at work?  

It was challenging in the early 2000s, as I had no visible role models with lives anywhere close to the one I wanted – comfortable being open in the workplace about their sexuality, and having families as well as progressing their legal careers. 

I was out at university and law school, but was encouraged to squeeze myself back into the closet as a trainee. I didn’t have the confidence to speak openly until I was qualified, and at a firm which sees diversity and authenticity as strengths. 

How has the industry improved since you began your career? 

It is wonderful to see LGBTQ+ people succeeding across the legal sector, and for community groups to exist within firms, at the Law Society and across many different industries. 

My role requires me to try to quickly understand what is important to clients – what drives them, what worries them, where they have support and where they feel vulnerable. My identity and background – and my experiences of feeling like an outsider – give me power and insight in these moments, for which I am extremely grateful. 

What motivated you to actively use your voice to advocate for LGBTQ+ voices in the legal sector? 

I felt a responsibility to do so. If we do not speak up, our lives and our experiences may be overlooked. 

Law is so pervasive in society that we need a plurality of voices and perspectives around the table when (big and seemingly small) decisions are made. 

How much obligation do you feel to be a role model within the industry? How helpful are role models in pushing change? 

Hugely. It still feels awkward being referred to as a role model, but I’m motivated to be visible enough to show others that it was possible to be out and proud, and for them to know they could reach out for support and insight when needed. 

For more, see ‘We’re all nervous right now’ – how a subdued Pride month got caught in the DEI backlash

More Pride Perspectives:

Clare Fielding: ‘I’m a reluctant activist – as a managing partner I have to be conscious of inclusion for everyone’

Patrick McCann: ‘We need more queer managing partners’

Daniel Winterfeldt: ‘We’ve helped move the UK legal sector from nowhere to a leader for LGBTQ+ inclusion’

Cai Cherry: ‘It’s easy to think something isn’t your problem – but equality is all of our problem’

Clare Fielding, co-founder and managing partner of specialist planning firm Town Legal, discusses her experience transitioning, her D&I responsibilities as a law firm leader, and becoming a ‘reluctant activist’

How easy did you find it to come out professionally, and what were the biggest barriers you faced when making that decision? 

I didn’t transition while I was in my legal career, but came into the law having transitioned several years previously in the early 1990s. At that time, there weren’t trans policies, or anything like that.

Ultimately, transitioning wasn’t a choice, it was something I was compelled to do. At times it was scary, but the big challenge was coming into work having left with one personal identity and coming back in with a different one.

Obviously, there is the change of gender, but to be perfectly honest the bigger challenge was just having a different name and different identity – that was a bit weird for a while. It takes a while before the person you are now presenting as actually becomes you – the real you (if that makes sense!). 

 Has the industry changed since you transitioned in the 90s? 

When I transitioned I found that people were generally very accepting and very supportive. I think now, in the legal profession, there’s obviously much more overt celebration of trans people, and we run workshops on trans inclusion and all that kind of stuff. That kind of thing didn’t exist when I transitioned, and I think it’s a good thing that we’re now more aware. 

On LinkedIn, you describe yourself as a ‘reluctant activist’. Do you feel an obligation to use your voice to advocate for trans rights, and do you feel an obligation to be a role model? 

I added that only very recently. I’ve always felt it’s important to be ‘out’ and to be a role model of sorts, but I’ve never really seen myself as an activist or banged the drum about trans rights. I never really perceived that I lacked any rights – more fool me, perhaps.

I now describe myself as a reluctant activist because I feel I must get active given what’s going on now, though I never really wanted to be in that sort of role. I knew absolutely nothing about the For Women Scotland case [on the definition of the terms man and woman] until the judgment came out. I took the ‘gender critical’ stuff to be a bit of a niche interest. How wrong was I? So, yes, reluctant activist. 

At the same time, as a managing partner of a law firm, I have to be conscious of diversity and inclusion for everyone in the workplace, and I have to care about the inclusion of groups that I’m not a member of. And that’s the point; you have to brave enough to stand up and make sure that you are creating an environment that’s okay for everyone – I think that’s the biggest learning point for me from all this latest stuff.  

The Supreme Court judgment is essentially a piece of statutory interpretation, so I don’t personally view the judgement itself as a transphobic act – as a lawyer I have to respect the decision, though I am aware a legal challenge is being prepared to it. It’s what happens afterwards that really affects people – me included – more than the judgment itself.

I heard a government minister on the radio saying that trans people have to use their biological sex loos “when they’re out and about” – this is shocking, because it places trans people in danger and it humiliates them. It humiliates everyone involved in that encounter, whether they’re trans or not, and I think it’s irresponsible of the minister to have said that. 

As someone who is a managing partner, do you have a sense of what the legal sector could be doing better to include trans and LGBTQ+ people? 

At one level, just be kind and decent to people and listen to their concerns. It’s not hard. 

It’s also about taking proper independent legal advice. It seems to me – and what a shame to say this – that we need to look very, very carefully at the official guidance which has now been issued for consultation. I think we will be taking careful legal advice on how we can arrange our practices and procedures so that we can be as trans inclusive as we can possibly be; thinking about things like bathroom facilities and so on. 

I think it also means not changing your principles. It means not watering down your DE&I messaging or your DE&I commitment. That’s what it means to me. Even though the political wind is blowing in a certain direction, I think businesses with integrity should be standing strong and not blowing with it.

Or, if you’re a business that is inclined to blow with the wind; fair enough, that’s your choice – but when the wind changes once again, don’t come back and cover all your publicity in rainbow flags – that would be intolerable.

For more, see ‘We’re all nervous right now’ – how a subdued Pride month got caught in the DEI backlash

More Pride Perspectives:

Patrick McCann: ‘We need more queer managing partners’

Daniel Winterfeldt: ‘We’ve helped move the UK legal sector from nowhere to a leader for LGBTQ+ inclusion’

Emma Woolcott: ‘We need a plurality of perspectives around the table when decisions are made’

Cai Cherry: ‘It’s easy to think something isn’t your problem – but equality is all of our problem’

Patrick McCann, former Linklaters director of learning and incoming CEO of the City of London Law Society, on being outed at work and why the legal community should stand by their trans and non-binary colleagues.

How easy did you find it to come out professionally? And what were the biggest barriers you had to overcome before you felt ready to come out at work?

I was out and proud in my last year at university. I ended up running the LGBT society, which turned out to be super-successful. I was advised by the brilliant Dean of Law to go back into the closet, so I did. Or I did in as much as ever I could.

A fellow trainee (a nasty fellow, who had been at the same uni) then outed me, I think in an attempt to derail my career, but it was essentially fine, although at least two of my bosses were uncomfortable with my queerness. My boyfriend at the time was diagnosed with AIDS and that was not something I cared to share.

The barriers to my coming out had to do with the perceived discomfort those in positions of influence may feel, and the harm that it would do to my progression. There was some truth in that.

What motivated you to actively use your voice to advocate for LGBTQ+ voices in the legal sector through initiatives you’ve been involved in, including The LLP [The LGBTQ+ Lawyers’ Programme, which was named LGBTQ+: Initiative of the Year at the Legal 500 UK ESG Awards]?

I’ve always been relatively active when I see things that don’t seem right – even at school. I try to better things. Therapy has recently revealed that the main driver for this is that the generation of gay men just ahead of me were decimated by AIDS. I saw many die – and I feel the need to honour them by being successful and helping others to be successful.

I am particularly interested in people getting into the profession and have had some wins in the field of social mobility, social welfare and LGBT work. I’m not sure why any of us are here, if not to help others.

Now I’ve become sufficiently aged – and financially solvent – I can be more outspoken about things. Most days someone contacts me privately to say that I am helping, and so I keep going. I believe LGBTQ+ people have a skillset, often hidden, gained by life experience, which can make them brilliant contributors.

How much obligation do you feel to be a role model within the industry? How helpful are role models in pushing change?

I feel some responsibility but mainly I do it because I think it’s the right thing to do – ethically, societally, mentally – and I am seeing some great, positive change through what people are doing. That in itself is a great reward and means I want to do more. I am a big believer in having role models – I can name a dozen without much effort who have inspired me. If I can do that for someone else, happy days.

What does the legal sector need to do better in order to include people from the LGBTQ+ community and provide support?

Actively reach out to recruit (I founded DiversCity, City Century and Queer City Law Career very much with this in mind). Bring queer people into work, be interested in us, promote us (especially into C-suite roles where we are noticeably absent) and support queer charities and the like.

In work, mentoring programmes and development programmes like The LLP help. Stay ahead of legal developments, reach out to impacted colleagues (trans and non-binary people in particular), enjoy difference, stay visible in your support.

What is the single biggest challenge still facing the LGBTQ+ community in City law? How can it be addressed?

Progression. I think we’re doing well in convincing emerging queer entrants to count themselves into our sector rather than out of it, and we see us do well up to the mid-levels, but we are less apparent in the senior ranks. In the 40 years I have been in and around London law, I have only seen a handful of queer managing partners. We need more Justin D’Agostinos and Clare Fieldings!

The LGBTQIA+ legal types I know are impactful, passionate, creative, empathetic, driven, personable – they have clear leadership qualities. I assess the legal scene to have some reticence about giving the really big jobs to us (although thank you to the City of London Law Society for taking me on).

The other massive challenge at the moment is the treatment of trans people – the impact I see on them from the current political and legal standpoint is devastating. The legal community could do much more to protect them.

For more, see ‘We’re all nervous right now’ – how a subdued Pride month got caught in the DEI backlash

More Pride Perspectives:

Clare Fielding: ‘I’m a reluctant activist – as a managing partner I have to be conscious of inclusion for everyone’

Daniel Winterfeldt: ‘We’ve helped move the UK legal sector from nowhere to a leader for LGBTQ+ inclusion’

Emma Woolcott: ‘We need a plurality of perspectives around the table when decisions are made’

Cai Cherry: ‘It’s easy to think something isn’t your problem – but equality is all of our problem’