Daniel Sokol

I am bald. Over the past few months, three events have reminded me of this fact. The first was on X (formerly Twitter). I was defending an article I had published in the British Medical Journal, in which I argued that doctors should behave professionally on social media. In response to my post, an irate doctor called me an ‘egghead’. The second was the revelation that my close friend Calvin, 46, had flown to Turkey for a hair transplant. He was not even bald, just thinning. Et tu, Calvin? The third took place only moments ago, and prompted me to write this piece. I was trying to spice up a WhatsApp message with an emoji. As I wanted to thank someone, I tapped into my Japanese heritage and chose the ‘bowing’ figure.

‘There is absolutely no need for any child applying to our school to be tutored,’ said the headmistress of a prestigious London day school during the Q&A session. Relieved, I left the hall to wander around the booths in a nearby room. I was struck by the many tutoring agencies, offering advice, courses and books on how to boost your child’s chances of securing a place at an elite school. In light of the headmistress’s earlier comment, I couldn’t help but recall the famous words attributed to P.T. Barnum. ‘A sucker is born every minute.’ The majority of applicants are tutored to the hilt Not long after, I found myself on a tour of a reputable school for possible 7+ entry for my son.

For most parents whose teenage years pre-dated Snapchat, Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram, few things are as terrifying as the social media use of their children. What might seem like harmless fun, such as posting memes, sharing photos, or venting frustrations, can have life-changing consequences. As a barrister who represents students, I have seen how a single ill-judged post can ruin a young person’s future. In one memorable case, a pupil was expelled from secondary school for using the phrase ‘deez nuts’ with a classmate In one memorable case, a pupil was expelled from secondary school for using the phrase ‘deez nuts’ with a classmate. The male pupil had meant it as a joke, but the female pupil found it offensive and reported it to the headmaster.

Whether it is the anti-immigration riots in the UK, with hundreds of arrests and prosecutions, Elon Musk’s lawsuit against OpenAI for breach of contract, or the UN’s International Court of Justice cases about the Israel-Palestine and Ukraine-Russia conflicts, the law is all around us. Teaching children about this invisible but powerful force can improve their understanding of life and society. Of course, this could be done in the formal setting of a classroom or a visit to the local law court, but there are plenty of opportunities in everyday life to impart legal knowledge. I explained that it was probably unlawful to sell lemonade on the street without a trading licence For children, the law is most visible in the form of police officers patrolling the streets.

Over the last decade, I have offered legal advice to thousands of students accused of cheating in their assessments. In university jargon, the term for cheating is ‘academic misconduct’. Although many assessments remain online after Covid, some have returned to the exam hall. There are still instances, therefore, of cheating à l’ancienne, with students writing notes on various limbs or smuggling in scraps of paper with minute writing.  I have had clients whose former partners have tipped off their ex’s university about historical episodes of cheating At times, the cheat is caught by an invigilator spotting a nervous glance towards an annotated palm. In other cases, the crib sheet falls out of a pocket or protrudes from its hiding place.

When an au pair or nanny writes ‘I was wondering if I could talk to you this evening,’ it is rarely good news. At best, it is to ask for a pay rise; at worst, to give notice of a departure. ‘I’d like to go to Madrid,’ said our beloved au pair one evening, confirming our worst fears, and so began the quest for a new live-in nanny. We decided not to confront her with this discovery, and she proved a superb au pair Finding a good au pair or nanny is so fraught with peril that specialist agencies exist to reduce the burden, with some charging thousands of pounds for the service. Even with an agency, the family will need to meet the prospective recruit for an interview. Sometimes, a character flaw is obvious from the outset.