The Courts Are Built for the Rich

I had to learn a fair bit of family law the hard way, because for long stretches I couldn’t afford to keep paying someone else to know it for me. And I’ll tell you what that taught me, plainly, because it’s one of the truest things I’ve learned about the world: the courts are built for people who can afford a lawyer.

That’s not bitterness talking. It’s just what the system is, once you’ve stood inside it without a wallet deep enough to be comfortable there.

History is his story

There’s a reason the word “history” reads, if you tilt your head, as his story. History is written by the winner. The loser doesn’t get to file the official version — they just get to live with the one the winner filed.

A courtroom is that, distilled and made official. Our system is adversarial: two stories go in, and a version comes out stamped as the record. And here’s the quiet truth nobody says out loud — the version that wins is very often not the truest one. It’s the most convincing one. And the most convincing story usually belongs to whoever could afford the better storyteller.

A good lawyer is, among other things, a professional narrator. They know which facts to lead with and which to bury, how to frame, when to press and when to soothe, what a particular room responds to. That’s a genuine skill, and it costs genuine money. So the side that can pay for it walks in with a structural advantage that has nothing to do with who was actually right.

Playing a game you’ve never been taught

Now picture the other side of that. You’re representing yourself, because you’ve run out of money or you never had it. You’re up against a professional who does this every working day, in a system designed by professionals, for professionals, in a language you’re frantically trying to learn between sleepless nights.

It isn’t a fair fight, and pretending it is, is part of the dishonesty. You don’t know the rules, the rhythms, the unwritten etiquette. You’ll say the wrong thing at the wrong moment, or fail to say the right one, not because you’re wrong but because nobody handed you the playbook the other side has memorised. Money buys that playbook. It buys time, persistence, expertise, and the patience to grind a less-resourced opponent down until they give up out of sheer exhaustion.

It’s the design, not (mostly) corruption

I want to be fair, because that’s the whole point of this site. Most people working inside the system aren’t villains. This isn’t, mostly, about bribes and corruption. It’s worse than that, in a way — it’s structural. The process can run exactly as designed, every box ticked, every rule followed, and still hand a systematic advantage to whoever has the most money. A machine can be working perfectly and still be built to favour one kind of person.

That’s the same thing I keep coming back to with these systems: “the process was followed” is not the same as “justice was done.” A system can be procedurally flawless and still be, at its foundation, for sale.

Do better

A justice system that quietly delivers different outcomes depending on your bank balance isn’t fully a justice system. It’s a justice system for those who can afford one, and something a lot rougher for everyone else.

Doing better here starts with being honest about it instead of repeating the comforting story that everyone gets their fair day in court. They don’t. It means properly funding legal aid and access, so the truth has a fighting chance even when it can’t afford a narrator. And on a human level, it means a bit of humility from those who’ve only ever experienced the system from the well-resourced side — because they’ve been playing a different game to the rest of us, and calling it the same name.

The winner tells the story. I just think we should stop pretending the winner is always the one who was telling the truth.