A Hidden Corner of Justice

This morning, I had the privilege of joining—via Teams—a fascinating introduction to the work of the Social Entitlement Chamber for the South East. It’s a part of the judiciary that operates largely out of public view, and yet it deals with some of the most emotionally charged and socially significant cases in the entire justice system.

The Chamber handles appeals in areas such as Personal Independence Payments (PIP), asylum and immigration, disability living allowance, universal credit, and employment support allowance—matters where the outcome can determine not just someone’s financial future, but their sense of dignity, stability, and place in the world.

What makes this part of the system especially striking is its inquisitorial nature. Unlike traditional adversarial courts—where two sides present opposing arguments and the judge rules between them—tribunals in the Social Entitlement Chamber are focused on seeking the truth. Judges actively lead the discussion, ask the questions, and carefully explore the facts—because many appellants come without legal representation, often bewildered, anxious, and fearful of authority.

There’s a relentless drive to resolve cases swiftly and fairly, so that the people involved—many of whom have waited months—can leave with a ruling that restores some certainty to their lives. Behind each appeal is a person, often navigating complex needs, trauma, language barriers, or long-term health conditions. And increasingly, there are young people, too—especially in asylum and benefits cases—whose voices risk going unheard without proper support and understanding.

As High Sheriff, with a theme focused on Hearing the Young Unheard, I was struck by how closely this chamber’s work aligns with that ambition. Access to justice should not depend on confidence, privilege, or education. It should be shaped to serve everyone—especially those whose protected characteristics or life circumstances make them more vulnerable to being marginalised, misunderstood, or overlooked.

The judges working in this chamber are remarkable. Many have made a conscious decision to step away from the financial rewards of private practice—whether as self-employed barristers or within large legal firms—to serve in this less visible, but deeply impactful part of our legal system. Their caseloads are heavy. The emotional toll is high. The recognition is minimal. And yet they do it, day after day, because they believe in justice as a public service.

In the South East region, the Chamber covers a vast area with 21 hearing centres, including one here in Oxford. Increasingly, they are using online hearings to reach people more efficiently and equitably—a vital development in a region as geographically and socially diverse as ours.

I came away deeply impressed—and reminded again that justice is not only about wigs and robes in courtrooms. Sometimes, it’s about an anxious individual in a plain room (or on a video call), quietly but bravely telling their story—and being met with empathy, rigour, and fairness.

That, too, is justice. And it matters just as much.