AI is going to kill all the lawyers December 16, 2025, 5:01 AM Spectator Life It feels a bit like a scene from an intellectual James Bond movie, or maybe an episode of 'Slow Horses.' I’m sitting in a dim corner of a swanky, bustling membership bar in Soho. A mild December twilight is settling over London. Across the table sits someone I’ve known for a long time. A senior English barrister in his mid-50s, with salt-and-pepper hair and a quietly handsome face. He wants to speak anonymously because what he’s about to say will earn him the hatred of his entire profession. Let’s call him James. I’ve known him for years, and we’ve talked about everything from politics and architecture to the misfortunes of Chelsea FC. We’ve often discussed tech and AI too. James’s view on AI used to mirror his politics: centrist, clever, moderate, and skeptical. But that has changed. In the last few weeks, James has become convinced that AI will “completely destroy” the law as we know it. It will wreck careers, end the system, and leave thousands unemployed. and he says the end is coming at a speed almost no one can imagine. He takes a sip of his espresso martini and adds some context before making his point. “Did you see the headlines about the Sandy Peggi case? The suspicion that the judge used AI? Well, believe me, that’s just the start. AI is coming for all of us.” “How?” “We ran an experiment last week. A simulation of sorts. We picked a real, recent, and actually important case. It was a complex civil appeal document I’d written myself, which took me a day and a half to draft. For anonymity and confidentiality, I redacted all identifying details and fed the case into Grok Heavy AI. I told it to do exactly what I had done. After a little prompt tuning, the result was…” He shakes his head. “It was incredible. No, it was truly shocking. It did it in 30 seconds, and it was significantly better than mine. And for the record, I’m pretty good at this.” He leans back with a look that is both bitter and resigned. “It was top-tier King’s Counsel (KC) level. The best possible legal document you could get. And it comes out in seconds for pennies. How do we compete with that? We can’t.” He drains his martini. We order two more. “If you get the prompts right, legal AI is already miles ahead of humans. Lawyers or advocates who live off writing legal opinions without client contact are already finished. But something bigger is coming.” James believes AI will move up the legal hierarchy. First, the busywork, then drafting, case citations, and constructing arguments. Eventually, most legal jobs will be replaced. “Procedural lawyers are obviously done. AI will handle even the most complex probate and conveyancing cases in seconds. The most complicated skill humans will have to perform,” he says with a sad laugh, “will be scanning paper documents to digitize them. Barristers will end up reading arguments in court that AI wrote for them, and then people will start asking, ‘Why am I paying a human lawyer £200,000 for this?’ They’ll disappear too.” He concludes briefly. “With few exceptions, the law is over for almost everyone. Maybe even for judges. You can see it from the last few days.” I mention ‘hallucinations’—the issue where AI models present false or fabricated info as fact—and the need for a human face in the courtroom. There are suspicions that the Sandy Peggi judgment contained AI-generated errors. But he brushes it off with a wave of his hand. “Temporary bugs and sentimental preferences. The economic logic is overwhelming.” “It was the best possible legal document. And it comes out in seconds for pennies. How do we compete? We can’t.” This leads to another obvious question: If James sees what’s coming so clearly, why don’t others? James explains as he knocks back his drink. The next generation of lawyers is being taught that they will ‘utilize’ AI, not be ‘replaced’ by it. They are reassured by the idea that AI is just a sharper tool, like a better version of LexisNexis. But James is certain they are deluding themselves. He says only about 1 percent of his colleagues truly understand what’s about to happen. He has a more desperate point to make. “Lawyers are arrogant. Lawyers run the country. Keir Starmer is the quintessential lawyer. These people are used to being respected and, to put it bluntly, have very high self-esteem. For people like that to admit they aren't special at all and can be replaced by a free robot... that’s going to be torture.” I ask how this will affect his colleagues psychologically, economically, and emotionally. “At first, they’ll fight like radicals. But it’s a losing battle. There will be attempts to ban AI in various legal fields. But it won’t work. The economy will drive it. So people who used to make huge money will suddenly stop making it. What that does to house prices, politics, and all of us... God only knows. Because this won’t just be a problem for the law.” We’ve nearly finished our second martinis. I’m now anxious enough to need a third. I look around this sleek London bar. Amidst elegant modern British art and a fine wine list, slick, smart-looking people are chatting away. What happens if the ecosystem sustaining all this—the world built by wealthy urbanites with capable brains—is shaken to its foundations or collapses? James looks surprisingly cheerful given the topic. “To be honest, a lot of lawyers have brought this on themselves. Too many are greedy and selfish, yet lack self-reflection. They create complexity on purpose just to generate more work and make money. And activist judges are a curse, but that’ll disappear soon too. Maybe it’ll be a good thing in the end. Though, 100,000 unemployed lawyers,” he laughs, “will be a bit of a destabilizing factor. Imagine a bunch of broke, pretentious, liberal-leaning lawyers with nothing to do.” The club is now noisy, and James gets ready to leave for dinner with colleagues. “Of course, I won’t tell them any of this. They’d all hate me. But someone has to be honest.” One last question. Right now, young people are studying law or thinking about becoming legal professionals. What advice would James give? He sits up straight, his face full of intensity. “My niece is a lovely girl. Really smart, great grades. She told me recently she wants to be a lawyer. I thought to myself, ‘Oh god, my niece wants to be a lawyer,’ and I just told her straight. Please don’t ruin your life. Don’t take on a lifetime of debt for a career that will be gone in 10 years, maybe even sooner.”

******* Summary - An anonymous senior barrister ('James') claims that through recent experiments, he's convinced current AI writes complex civil appeal documents much faster and at higher quality than humans (himself included). - Because of this productivity gap ("seconds for pennies"), the economic viability of legal work is collapsing. Mass replacement will start with core tasks like opinion writing, research, citations, and argument construction. - While simple/repetitive tasks go first, it will soon move up to high-level practice like probate/conveyancing and court filings, eventually threatening barristers and even judges. - He dismisses 'hallucination' issues or the need for a 'human presence' as temporary bugs or sentimentalism. The overwhelming logic of cost-cutting will render regulation useless. - Conclusion: Young people are deluding themselves thinking they'll just 'use' AI as a tool. Studying law now is investing in a career that will vanish within 10 years.