Peter O'Brien at the UTS GRADUATION: On 12 May 2025, Peter O'Brien, a celebrated advocate for civil liberties and a fearless voice in Australian law, stood before the graduating class of UTS Law to deliver a speech unlike any other. Rather than delve into global legal trends or lofty platitudes, Peter O'Brien chose to reflect on his own tumultuous and triumphant journey through the legal profession.
From Peter O'Brien's early days at Legal Aid and the Aboriginal Legal Service to a shocking moment when he was imprisoned for defending a child client in Darwin, O'Brien's career has been marked by an unyielding commitment to justice and a raw honesty about the emotional cost of the profession. With five hard-earned lessons, he invited the next generation of lawyers to embrace empathy, endure failure, foster humility, care for their mental health, and remain lifelong learners.
Peter O'Brien's Speech:
I acknowledge the traditional owners of this land, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation.
Pro Chancellor, Deputy Vice Chancellor, Dean, staff, distinguished guests, family and friends.
Graduates. Congratulations, it is a wonderful achievement. You are now a "lawyer". It doesn't matter if you become a solicitor, go to the bar, or do something altogether different with your law degree. You have that sturdy, almost illustrious title, to do with as you will.
And my tribute also to the friends, family and loved ones who've attended today to support and congratulate you too. Yesterday was Mother's Day, so especially to the mothers. I'm sure this is extra special for them. I've had a focus on you as I prepared for this occasion with you, occurring as it does in an extraordinary moment in history for us all.
A time where the rule of law, the lynch pin of democracy, comes into sharper focus aboard and, as sure as night meets day, it will here too. The polarisation of our political system, and movements of hatred and haters focused on what divides us, over what binds us.
The push by the executive across the separation of powers, usurping the judiciary. And artificial intelligence is changing how we all do things, putting front and centre significant ethical issues, especially in the field of law and legal decision-making.
I considered talking to you about one or all those challenges that will inevitably confront you all in life and in your careers. Ultimately, I decided to talk about a topic I found quite difficult. Me, my career, and 5 lessons I've learned. Some, the hardest way.
Peter O'Brien: Early career
Three decades ago, I was where you are now, in this very place. All I remember was how eager I was to get out of here and throw my tabletop hat, the trencher, into the air.
I didn't know exactly what graduation would bring, but I knew it brought a range of opportunities for me and others. I saw hope for people I could represent and advise. I felt a sense of responsibility, engagement, and industry. And I was super keen to get on with my career as a lawyer.
I possessed far more confidence than I had competence. That was too apparent, to all except me. The clients loved it, and the beaks hated it.
Peter O'Brien working for Legal Aid Commission
My first job was as a lawyer in the NSW Legal Aid Commission children's legal service. At a time where heroin was in boom and the State was the worst parent. Too often, the clients were drug -addicted state wards. The work sharpened my focus on the connection between poverty and the law, the inequity in access to the law, and the need to protect the individual and their liberties against the might of the state.
And so, my first lesson is imparted to you from the work I have done with children in the legal system. Don't ever forget about the massive impact the law can have on people, particularly those who are, by dint of circumstance, in a position of powerlessness.
Remember the law can be unjust and those who apply it can do so unjustly. It is our job to combat that injustice.
Not long into my career, I was in the Northern Territory working for the Aboriginal Legal Service. It was a particularly nasty passage of time when judicial discretion had been eliminated in favour of mandatory sentencing for property, including:
- 14 days for the first offence,
- 3 months for the second,
- and 12 months for the third or subsequent.
Peter O'Brien defending a 15-year-old
Unsurprisingly, we held instructions to challenge nearly every property charge. The lists had blown out and there was tremendous hostility from the bench and the prosecution towards the defence lawyers. Tempers were flaring in the courtroom.
During this cruel regime, a 14-year-old child committed suicide at the Don Dale detention centre after having been sentenced to 14 days for stealing textas from school. Amidst an Australian outrage on the impact mandatory imprisonment was having on kids, the Prime Minster intervened, and police were provided with funds to effect a court diversion program.
But the scheme lacked cohesion, regulation and framework.
When representing a 15-year-old, in such a matter in the Darwin Children's Court, I'd been instructed that the child was going to be diverted in relation to a charge of doing graffiti. He was otherwise facing a mandatory term of imprisonment. I tried to explain to the magistrate that his family had been told that the police were going to divert the charge. The prosecutor disagreed and the magistrate pressed me to enter a plea for the client, I resisted and attempted to explain ongoing issues with the diversion system.
The magistrate persisted, demanding that I enter a plea, and when I suggested that the client wanted the matter to be diverted, he ordered that I leave the Courtroom. I'll read from the transcript, as to what transpired beyond that:
What happened?
HIS WORSHIP: Peter O'Brien, if you leave the court, please?
You are not assisting. Out you go.
Peter O'BRIEN: Your Worship, I object to that order.
HIS WORSHIP: Would you take Peter O'Brien out of the court,
please?
Peter O'BRIEN: My client sits here unrepresented today if
I'm ... ordered to leave,
HIS WORSHIP: Peter O'Brien, unless you leave, immediately, I
shall ask you why I should not deal with you for contempt of
court.
Peter O'BRIEN: Can I arrange for representation of my
client?
HIS WORSHIP: Will you take Peter O'Brien into custody, please,
officer, and I'll talk to him this afternoon as to why I should
not deal with him further for contempt of court.
Peter O'BRIEN: It's quite ridiculous,
quite ridiculous. (I said as I was led by a police officer into the
cells below the courthouse.
Peter O'Brien arrested in court
It was far from my best day in court. I was imprisoned in the cells, my shoelaces and belt were removed. The guards astounded as to who their new prisoner was kindly gave me a coffee. My other clients in the cells were obviously alarmed that their lawyer was in the clink with them.
Unbeknownst to me the child's mother articulately persuaded the magistrate that what I had said was correct. The magistrate then pondered as the minutes ticked by in silence. I can only imagine what he thought of his obvious error, and he directed that I be brought back before him.
Down there in the bowels of that courthouse, I thought my career
was finished. Within a short time, I was keenly supported by a
solid crew of excellent lawyers and Silks. After three years of
litigation, I successfully sued the NT for the unlawfulness of
my
imprisonment.
The rigour of litigation
Although the toll was significant, I came to understand the rigour of litigation from a litigant's perspective and the value of dedicated lawyers. I also took from that ordeal, what later became a livelihood in suing policing authorities and institutions for abuses of power including false imprisonment, malicious prosecutions, and other intentional torts.
And so, my second lesson is that the practice of law is a story of success and failure. Have the fortitude to bear failure, and the guts to fail. There is no crest if there is no trough. The adversarial process can be exacting and can leave you rattled. So be prepared for failure and take from it what you can.
Peter O'Brien opening his law firm
After half a decade in the NT with the ALS, I returned to Sydney and opened a practice in criminal and civil litigation. A practice that has over the past two decades been both a set of wings, as well as a ball and chain.
Having, until then, practiced principally in the social justice arena and not having to worry about being paid, it brought a new dynamic to practice and the additional stress of chasing fees, managing staff, and the rigour of litigation.
In preparing a case I often doubt myself and dread the prospects that lay await in cases, the inherent risks in litigation, and the inconsistency on the bench. It is only human to feel for the client putting all their faith in your skills. To feel that self-doubt makes justifying an invoice difficult, regardless the outcome.
The importance of self-doubt
The third lesson you might take from me is this. Self-doubt is an important, indeed crucial part to your role as a lawyer. It enables you to empathise, spot and address defects in your case and it demonstrates, to my mind, one of the best attributes a lawyer can have.
Humility. Please be humble, the best lawyers I have ever met are. And that dove tails into an important aspect of the life as a lawyer. Deal with your stress and your emotions on this rollercoaster ride you've just paid your ticket for, positively and meaningfully. I have over-indulged in the wins and wallowed in the losses. I noticed as a young lawyer that many of the experienced lawyers I admired carried a lot of wreckage such as broken marriages, hard living with alcohol, and other excesses.
Personal toll of a life in law
The law has taken a personal toll on me, and it stung when I sat down to write this speech.
Firstly, it was hard to sit and write about myself as I am too used to telling the experiences of others. But second, it was confronting to look at what I've achieved without an honest account of some of the harm and hurt it has caused me and those who have loved me. My life is in some measure to those senior practitioners I hoped as a youthful advocate, not to emulate.
And so, a fourth lesson learnt hard and late, you might take from me. I encourage you to balance your life. Alcohol and drug abuse is sadly endemic in our profession. Relationship failure and family dysfunction are too frequent. Do what you can to make sure you have a sound and contented life outside of the law.
Last year I took a sabbatical and travelled to Europe for several months. I aimed to write a second edition of my book and learn a foreign language. But I found lounging around the Mediterranean and riding motorcycles more my style. I'm still writing and riding, and there is not one day in the law that I don't learn something new.
This brings me to my fifth lesson. Never stop learning.
The never-ending pursuit of knowledge
You are beginning your careers in a rapidly changing and evolving world, such that I could not possibly begin to know what your career as lawyers will look like when you have practiced as long as I have.
A seasoned lawyer at a ceremony like this at the turn of the last century would be able to say how the law is likely to be practiced into the future for the next 50 years. But I cannot say, even in this very conservative profession, what your career will be like in a decade.
So, although this day represents an end to your studies, endeavour to make it just one era of an endless determination to learn.
Congratulations again