By Cally Hannah
Every sitting day in Australian courts, hundreds of litigants spend hours waiting for their matters to be called.
They wait in crowded corridors, cramped waiting rooms and public foyers. Some sit silently scrolling through their phones. Others pace. Some rehearse what they want to say. Many look anxious. Most look uncertain.
As lawyers, we spend years studying what happens inside a courtroom. We analyse judgments, debate procedure and scrutinise evidence. Yet I have increasingly found myself fascinated by something else entirely: what happens before a party even enters the courtroom.
Perhaps it is an unusual hobby for a solicitor.
Those who regularly see me appear in court will know that even when my own matter is not being heard, I watch proceedings with the enthusiasm of someone attending court for the first time. Courtrooms remain endlessly fascinating to me. But so do the people outside them.
I often find myself wondering how litigants arrived at this moment.
What series of decisions, arguments, misunderstandings, relationships, disappointments or crises brought them to court?
And perhaps more importantly, what can we do to help them leave with as little cost, stress, frustration and damage as possible?
It was during one of these observations that a rather obvious thought struck me.
The court waiting room may be one of the most underutilised resources in the Australian justice system.
We devote enormous intellectual effort to improving courtroom processes. We establish committees, conduct reviews, reform legislation and redesign administrative systems. All of this is important.
Yet comparatively little attention is given to the place where litigants often spend the majority of their day: the waiting room.
That seems a missed opportunity.
For many litigants, particularly self-represented parties, the waiting area is the only point in the litigation process where they have both the time and the mental space to absorb information, consider their options and reflect on the decisions they are about to make.
At present, we largely waste that opportunity.
The typical court waiting room functions as little more than a holding bay between arrival and adjudication.
But what if it could be something more?
What if waiting rooms were viewed as places of education, engagement and informed decision-making rather than simply places where people wait?
Court 58: A practical example
Court 58 at the Perth Magistrates Court is, in my view, one of the more thoughtfully designed court environments in Western Australia.
As the dedicated restraining order court, it recognises a reality that many other jurisdictions do not. Applicants and respondents should not necessarily be expected to sit together while waiting for their matters to be heard.
The court therefore operates with separate waiting areas. Applicants, or protected persons, wait in a secure area separated by glass doors and monitored by security personnel. Respondents wait elsewhere. The design allows both parties to access the courtroom independently and minimises unnecessary interaction before proceedings commence.
It is an excellent system.
Yet even within this well-designed environment, I cannot help but think we are overlooking an opportunity.
Court 58 is frequently dealing with lengthy and heavily populated lists. It is not unusual for dozens of matters to be listed on any given day. Some litigants will spend hours waiting for their matter to be called.
Hours.
In a justice system where time is one of our most valuable commodities, we ask people to wait for hours and offer them almost nothing to do except stare at a mobile phone.
From waiting time to learning time
Imagine if those hours were used constructively.
Imagine if litigants had access to short, clear and professionally produced educational resources explaining:
- what happens during restraining order proceedings;
- how evidence is considered by the court;
- what a Conduct Agreement Order is;
- what an undertaking is;
- the consequences of breach;
- the advantages and disadvantages of resolving a matter by agreement;
- services available through Legal Aid and community legal centres.
None of this information would tell parties what decision to make.
Nor should it.
Its purpose would simply be to ensure that parties understand the choices available to them before they are required to make those choices.
Some litigants will happily read an information sheet.
Many will not.
Short video presentations displayed in waiting areas may prove significantly more effective. A three-minute explanation delivered in plain language will often do more to improve understanding than a six-page brochure handed to someone five minutes before their matter is called.
The private sector has understood this for years. Airports, hospitals, banks and government service centres routinely use waiting periods to provide information to customers and users.
Courts rarely do.
Better information, better decisions
To be clear, I am not suggesting that litigants should be pressured into settlement.
Nor am I suggesting that every matter can, or should, resolve without a hearing.
What I am suggesting is far simpler.
People make better decisions when they understand their options.
Litigants who understand the court process are more likely to engage constructively in discussions. They are more likely to appreciate the risks of litigation. They are more likely to identify appropriate avenues for resolution. And where a hearing remains necessary, they are more likely to participate meaningfully in the process.
That benefits everyone.
It benefits litigants.
It benefits duty lawyers and Legal Aid providers.
It benefits court staff.
And it benefits a court system that continues to operate under significant pressure.
Access to justice does not always require legislative reform, additional judicial appointments or multi-million-dollar infrastructure projects.
Sometimes meaningful change comes from looking at a familiar space differently.
The court waiting room is one such space.
Perhaps it is time we stopped viewing it as a place where justice pauses, and started viewing it as a place where justice begins.