The Silenced Majority: Why Self-Representation Should Not Mean Self-Sabotage
They say justice is blind. But is it also deaf and mute to those who cannot afford a lawyer?
Every day, Australians enter courtrooms alone: mothers fighting for custody, tenants for shelter, workers for dignity. Yet the system that claims to serve them shuts them out. Self-represented litigants (SRLs) face a legal system that demands fluency in a language they were never taught.
I am one of them. Self-representation is not empowerment. It is a forced descent into procedural hell. It is a rigged game for the uninitiated.
SRLs are not rare. They are parents, pensioners, migrants, workers, and carers. Yet they are treated not as seekers of justice, but as problems to be managed. SRLs are not anomalies. They are symptoms of a justice system that has failed to adapt.
In theory, SRLs have the same rights as anyone. In practice, they walk into a maze with no map. Procedures, filing rules, affidavit structures - lawyers train for years to master these. For laypeople, they are barriers. Impenetrable.
Legal process is ritual. It privileges specific ways of speaking, behaving, even feeling. As Spencer (2021, pp. 72-75) argues, the courtroom expects a performance of legal fluency. SRLs are seen as unreliable not because of merit, but because they appear too emotional, too slow, or simply too human.
This is systemic exclusion. It produces what Fricker (2007, pp. 147-175) calls epistemic injustice: a wrong done to someone in their capacity as a knower. Strip a person’s credibility, and justice becomes unreachable.
Critics argue that courts are fair. That judges are neutral. That rules apply equally. That SRLs are treated with “due courtesy.”
But what they call fairness, we call erasure. The rules do not bend for trauma. They do not pause for disability. They do not translate for migrants. And they do not explain themselves to the desperate mother who stayed up all night googling how to write an affidavit.
Procedural formality is not neutral. It is a filter that excludes the untrained.
The law says access is a right. But what does that look like in practice? In Dietrich v The Queen (1992) 177 CLR 292, the High Court held that a fair trial might require legal representation in serious criminal matters. While limited to criminal law, the principle remains: fairness may require support.
That principle is rarely realised. Stewart and Stuhmcke (2019) found that 46 per cent of special leave applications in the High Court were made by SRLs. None succeeded.
That is not coincidence. That is structural exclusion.
SRLs are told they are burdensome. That they waste court time. That judges are not babysitters. Yes, some are vexatious. But most are not.
The ALRC’s Without Fear or Favour report noted that judicial conduct toward SRLs is sometimes impatient or even hostile (ALRC, 2021, p. 546-550). That is not inconvenience. That is bias.
And what of the legal profession? Spencer (2021, p. 79) notes that legal ethics barely address how lawyers should treat SRLs. The Queensland Law Society (2023, para [2-5]) encourages fairness in Guidance Statement No. 09, but it is not enforceable. The door is open for imbalance and confusion, and some take advantage.
This is not justice. It is tradition, unchallenged.
So, what do we need?
We need redesign.
We need plain-language forms and flexible timelines, digital filing systems with offline options, trauma-informed court staff, judicial training, and SRL navigators.
Lawyers must be required, not merely encouraged, to treat SRLs fairly. Courts must stop treating legal knowledge as the price of entry. Judges must see that impartiality is not indifference.
Intersectionality matters. First Nations people face layered injustice. Migrants face language barriers. People with disability face inaccessible court design. These are not minor gaps. They are fractures (ALRC, 2021, pp. 546-550).
I am not asking for pity. I am asking for recognition.
We, the self-represented, are not anomalies. We are not problems to be managed.
We are the silenced majority.
And if the justice system cannot hear us, it is not worthy of its name.
The question is not whether the courts are fair.
The question is: fair to whom, and at what cost to justice?
References
ALRC. (2021). Without Fear or Favour: Judicial Impartiality and the Law on Bias. Australian Law Reform Commission.
Fricker, M. (2007). Epistemic Injustice: Power and the Ethics of Knowing. Oxford University Press.
Queensland Law Society. (2023). Guidance Statement No. 09: Self-Represented Litigants.
Spencer, R. (2021). ‘Deferring to the “unlearned” friend: professional ethics and the unrepresented litigant’, Legal Ethics, 24(1), pp. 72–75.
Stewart, A., & Stuhmcke, A. (2019). ‘The High Court and self-represented litigants’, Sydney Law Review, 41(4), pp. 881–894.
Varpio, L. (2018). ‘Using rhetorical appeals to credibility, logic, and emotion to increase your persuasiveness’, Perspectives on Medical Education, 7(4), pp. 207–210.
