Accessing Judges as Interviewees – Two Different Strategies, One Shared Constant: Persistence

During the early stages of my PhD, I came across a doctoral thesis that included, on one of its first pages, a letter from the Judicial Office of England and Wales, rejecting the researcher’s request to interview judges. I panicked.

Admittedly, that research focused heavily on personal values in judicial decision-making. My study differed: it aimed to examine the role of courts in consociational power-sharing systems − a political arrangement to stabilize deeply divided societies – and was to be conducted in another UK jurisdiction, Northern Ireland, as well as in Lebanon.

Still, my early optimism quickly gave way to doubt. Would I be able to speak to judges about their perceptions of courts in such systems? Would I have to abandon them as a group of participants, despite considering them central to understanding how the courts’ audiences shape judicial behavior − and ultimately, courts’ roles?

Thankfully, my supervisor reassured me. Not only was my approach different, but she also had significant experience working with the judiciary. She believed that the Lady Chief Justice (LCJ) of Northern Ireland − who serves as the key gatekeeper for such requests − might be open to my request, provided the application was robust. As for Lebanon, I was already fairly confident that networking would be my go-to, given the Ministry of Justice’s restrictive stance and the ongoing economic and political crisis.

Northern Ireland – A Gatekeeper-driven Process

I wrote to the LCJ outlining my research aims, rationale for judicial participation, and key themes, attaching supporting documents (information sheet, consent form, ethics approval, and funding details) to build credibility and trust. I emphasized confidentiality, safe data storage, and offered participants the option to review and comment on quotes before publication.

The process that followed was relatively smooth but required patience and negotiation. The LCJ’s Office asked for a draft list of questions. I was hesitant, as sharing the guide in full can make interviews overly scripted and inhibit spontaneity. My approach was semi-structured for a reason – I wanted the flexibility to adapt to the interview dynamic and let participants help shape the conversation. That said, I understood the importance of transparency in building trust and hoped that this would increase both the office’s and judges’ willingness to participate. I submitted the interview guide with a note explaining that questions could evolve and that participants could skip any question or withdraw at any point.

Further compromises were necessary. The LCJ’s Office declined to facilitate contact with retired judges, citing age and health concerns. This was unfortunate, as several were still active in public roles and could have offered valuable insights into the earlier post-1998 period. While I could have tried alternative routes to get hold of them, time constraints and a focus on sitting judges prevented further “investigations.” Such a move might also have upset the LCJ’s Office, a risk I was only willing to take if I failed to secure enough judicial participants.

Some questions were flagged as too personal – particularly those about judges’ backgrounds, legal training, career paths – as well as views on representativeness (e.g., whether the bench reflects ethno-national political identities, and how this might influence judging). This was disappointing, as such themes were central to understanding how the Troubles and Northern Ireland’s still divided society have shaped legal culture. While these themes emerged organically in some interviews, I supplemented gaps with input from other legal professionals.

Ultimately, the LCJ’s Office approved the research and facilitated contacts. Five judges agreed to participate. One judge I was especially keen to interview was approached again at my request but ultimately declined, likely due to the topic’s sensitivity. Participation, after all, was voluntary.

Interviews were conducted both at the Royal Courts of Justice and online. The judges were mostly approachable and genuinely interested. Most had reviewed the questions in advance. One judge, who came very prepared, seemed briefly irritated when I diverged from the guide, but soon relaxed and engaged openly. Several noted that the questions encouraged them to reflect on their work in new ways.

Lebanon – Networking, Networking, Networking

In Lebanon, I had to navigate access to judges in a far more complex and drawn-out way. From my readings and early conversations, it became clear that the Ministry of Justice was unlikely to approve my request, restricting judges from engaging with researchers, the media, or even attending conferences, especially those deemed too “activist” by sectarian leaders (though these were not my primary targets).

Moreover, while my research did not focus on political interference in the judiciary, it could easily be perceived that way. Such influence is widely acknowledged, but the topic remains politically sensitive, especially following the Beirut port explosion, a deepening political crisis, and a judicial standoff that led to armed clashes.

The country was also experiencing one of the worst economic crises in history. Government employees were receiving only a fraction of their salaries and many were allowed to stay home several days a week. Judges’ monthly earnings had dropped from around USD 4,000 to just USD 100. Courts lacked electricity, water, and even stationery, and most judges eventually went on strike. It seemed unlikely that my formal application would even be read, let alone approved.

Faced with this, I began networking wherever possible, assuming I would only be able to interview retired judges. A German foundation might have facilitated access, but its political affiliations risked skewing the data. Instead, I focused on public events, conferences, and the snowball method, as Lebanon is a small jurisdiction and personal networks run deep.

My first interview, however, came through a journalist I met at the library, where we were both working on our PhDs. They connected me with a sitting judge known for being outspoken, who readily agreed to meet in a café. I had hoped for an office setting due to noise and confidentiality concerns, but power outages made this impractical. The judiciary was, quite literally, experiencing one of its darkest moments.

Two additional contacts came through my research assistant. Only later did I learn that his family is deeply connected across Lebanon’s institutions and political spectrum. One judge had given interviews before, so I was hopeful. However, my initial messages went unanswered. I followed up with a longer message, this time including not only a personal introduction and project summary but also my interview guide. They politely replied that they were too busy but wished me well.

Still, I persisted. I wrote again, explaining that I would be staying longer in Lebanon and offering to conduct the interview in French or Arabic, languages commonly used in the legal field and likely more comfortable for them. Now in French, they inquired – reasonably, though unusually – who had shared their contact and whom I had already interviewed. I provided more details but reiterated confidentiality. Reassured, the judge agreed to an interview.

In total, I interviewed four retired and five sitting judges. Most outreach happened via WhatsApp, as emails often went unanswered. In two cases, I delivered printed letters – one at a public event, the other via a mutual contact – after other attempts had failed, though the added formality made no difference.

Unlike in Northern Ireland, I relied on oral consent. Senior researchers had advised that formal paperwork could carry negative connotations in the region and deter participation. Accordingly, most sitting judges declined recording.

Conclusion: Persistence Pays Off

While not all of my initial goals were met, the interviews yielded rich and often unexpectedly candid insights. Participants’ reflections frequently exceeded my expectations. Still, accessing judges as research participants was time-consuming and, at times, frustrating. It required careful preparation, transparency, institutional backing (in the case of Northern Ireland), and a flexible mindset (more so in Lebanon). Above all, it demanded persistence and a fair degree of diplomacy. Despite the many hurdles, interviews proved not only possible but also a powerful way to engage voices rarely heard so openly beyond the courtroom.


Footnotes

  1. Lijphart, A. (1969). Consociational Democracy. World Politics, 21(2), 207–225.
  2. Baum, L. (2006). Judges and Their Audiences: A Perspective on Judicial Behavior. Princeton University Press.
  3. Boulanger, C. (2013). Guardians, Umpires, Founders: Roles of Constitutional Courts in the Democratization of Germany and Hungary. Free University Berlin.
  4. Dadouch, S., & Durgham, N. (2021, October 14). Fierce fighting erupts in Beirut after Hezbollah protest attacked. The Washington Post. www.washingtonpost.com/world/middle_east/beirut-protest-shots-dead-blast-probe/2021/10/14/7d5c1f2c-2cca-11ec-b17d-985c186de338_story.html.
  5. Charaf, R. (2024, April 2). Impoverished Judges: When Livelihood Anxiety Sits Atop the Court Bench. Legal Agenda. https://english.legal-agenda.com/impoverished-judges-when-livelihood-anxiety-sits-atop-the-court-bench/.