Legal Power, Professional Boundaries, and a Line That Should Never Be Crossed

A personal account of legal power, professional conduct, and the human cost of institutional response

 

When Ethics Become Optional 

There is a quote that has stayed with me.

From the article “Lawyers not moral judges – Clayton Utz chief”:

“We don’t take a moral stance… it’s not up to us, as advocates for a client, to take a moral stance” (Simons, 2002).

And perhaps even more telling:

“The clients are entitled… to avail themselves of the full protection of the law… subject to… professional duties” (Simons, 2002).

That framing raises a fundamental question:

If lawyers are not moral actors — then what anchors their conduct?

The law is not a vacuum, and professional conduct is not optional.

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The Myth: “We Are Not Moral Judges”

Let’s be clear.

Lawyers are not philosophers.

They are not arbiters of good and evil.

But they are bound — explicitly — by codes of ethics, duties to the court, and obligations not to misuse legal processes.

Even Clayton Utz itself acknowledged this when, following serious judicial criticism, it initiated an internal review:

The firm undertook a review “to test our conduct… to make certain it meets the standards required in the firm” (Pheasant, 2002).

This included what was effectively an ethics audit — with acknowledgment that failure to meet standards could result in consequences for partners (Pheasant, 2002).

So which is it?

• Ethics matter enough to audit internally

• But not enough to guide conduct externally?

That contradiction is not theoretical.

I lived it.

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The Reality: When Legal Power Enters a Workplace Dispute

My situation was not a commercial dispute.

It was not corporate litigation.

It was a workplace complaint.

I asked for:

• A safe work environment

• Mediation to resolve bullying and harassment

• A return-to-work plan under workers compensation

Instead, after escalating concerns to SafeWork NSW — and copying in colleagues including the WHS and Wellbeing Manager — something unexpected happened.

A law firm intervened.

Not to protect safety. Not to de-escalate.

But to respond “on behalf of ACU.”

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The Letter That Should Never Have Been Sent

The letter I received from Clayton Utz asserted, among other things:

• That I was not an “injured worker” because my claim was denied

• That I had no basis for reinstatement

• That allegations of bullying and harassment were denied

• That further communication should be directed through them

This was communicated at a time when:

• My workers compensation claim was still in dispute

• I had requested safeguards and no contact with the individual causing harm

• The insurer (CCI) was aware of ongoing concerns, including what is referenced in its own factual investigation as Incident #24

• I had no case manager actively protecting me

• My psychological safety was already compromised

And yet, the position was expressed with certainty.

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My Response — In Full

Because this matters.

Because tone matters.

Because context matters.

Here is what I wrote in response:

“I’m an employee who was committed to my work and service on behalf of ACU as well. All I asked for in return was a safe work environment, so I can continue to provide excellent service without collapsing from stress and burnout.

I didn’t view your attachment because I made it very clear to keep the offenders away from me. Your firm also caused serious safety issues to my family. I don’t know why you’re doing this and why you chose to cause serious safety risks to my family after certain staff at ACU violated private family health matters irrelevant to my work issue.

This was meant to be a simple but serious complaint of bullying and harassment, that I needed mediation to resolve fairly, because my health reached a state where I couldn’t keep going. I had no choice but to ask for support. I had a workplace issue I needed to resolve.

In the dispute resolution on 9 March 2020 — with no minute taker present — I told those HR staff I want peace restored. The response was they had a legal obligation to the university. The university is against peace? What’s the obligation of the university? I met my obligation in my work for the university. Is the university, in return, not obligated to ensure a safe work environment?

How did my complaint to SafeWork NSW regarding one of their staff and my need for a support network of colleagues that I was denied, even under workers compensation laws, end up with you?

I made it clear that the harassment and systemic abuse has to stop. So please stop.

I’m a simple person who did my work honourably. Please leave me alone.

Kind regards,

Vicki”

I also forwarded this to a colleague, because I needed someone — anyone — to understand what was happening.

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The Conduct Didn’t Stop With Me

Members of my family made a formal complaint to ACU after experiencing repeated violations of their privacy in a matter that had nothing to do with them.

This was not a workplace issue for them.

This was not a dispute they were part of.

They were drawn into it because of me.

And yet, legal involvement followed there as well.

This involved:

• A publicly funded university

• An institution that professes a Catholic ethos

• A directorate dedicated to Identity and Mission

• A response to a formal complaint from individuals including a senior citizen, a widow who lost her husband of 40 years to suicide (even that privacy and compassionate leave at that time was not respected), and an alumnus of ACU

I will not revisit the details of what my family experienced.

I have written about that elsewhere, and I will not relive it here.

But I will say this:

When legal processes extend into the lives of family members — particularly those already vulnerable — serious questions arise about judgement, proportionality, and professional boundaries.

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The Ethical Fault Line

This is where the issue becomes unavoidable.

Because this was not just “legal representation.”

This was:

• A vulnerable worker

• In a live workers compensation dispute

• Reporting safety concerns

• Requesting protection

• Being met with legal intervention instead of support

And critically:

Conduct that, in my experience, had foreseeable psychological impact.

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Key Questions That Remain Unanswered

To this day, I still ask:

1. How was such certainty justified?

How could a lawyer assert that I was not an “injured worker”

— when liability was still under dispute?

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2. Where was the duty of care?

Where was the consideration of:

• Psychological injury

• Known harassment risks

• Existing requests for “no contact” safeguards

3. What role did power play?

The individual I had raised concerns about:

• Was a senior executive

• Had oversight of WHS and wellbeing functions

• Was connected to the very systems meant to protect workers

And yet:

The response came not from a safety framework — but from a legal one.

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4. Who does the lawyer ultimately serve?

The client?

Or the system of justice itself?

Because those are not always aligned.

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The Problem With “No Moral Stance”

When a lawyer says:

“We don’t take a moral stance…” (Simons, 2002)

It creates a dangerous vacuum.

Because without moral judgement:

• Power goes unchecked

• Harm can be rationalised

• Vulnerable people become collateral

And ethics?

They become something you audit after the damage is done.

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A Broader Pattern Emerging

Recent reporting in The Sydney Morning Herald suggests these issues are not isolated.

A March 2026 article highlighted findings from the national student ombudsman that the University of Technology Sydney had, in one case, “effectively silenced” a student through the way its complaint process was managed (Rawsthorne, 2026).

The reporting raised concerns about:

• the use of confidentiality frameworks

• the handling of sensitive complaints

• and whether processes designed to manage institutional risk were, in practice, limiting the ability of individuals to speak about their experiences

Importantly, the ombudsman noted that concerns about the integrity of a process should not result in individuals being prevented from speaking about their experiences.

The university has since agreed to implement all recommendations (Rawsthorne, 2026).

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This is not about drawing direct equivalence.

But it does raise a broader question:

When multiple institutions — across different contexts — are found to have similar issues in how complaints are handled, what does that say about organisational culture and governance frameworks?

Because at some point, these are no longer isolated incidents.

They begin to look like patterns.

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This Was Never About Winning

I was not trying to “win.”

I was trying to:

• Stay safe

• Recover

• Return to work

• Be treated with basic dignity

Instead, I was:

• Isolated

• Legally confronted

• Silenced through process

• And exposed to further harm

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Accountability

This is not something I am raising lightly.

Prior to publishing this, I lodged a formal complaint with the Office of the Legal Services Commissioner regarding the conduct described above, including the involvement of the Clayton Utz lawyer and the consultant copied into the correspondence.

This is the appropriate avenue for concerns of this nature to be independently assessed.

Because if professional conduct standards mean anything, they must be capable of scrutiny — not just internally, but externally.

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Final Reflection

Lawyers may not be moral judges.

But they are gatekeepers of power.

And when that power is used without ethical restraint —

especially against someone already vulnerable —

It stops being representation.

And starts becoming something else.

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Closing Question

If the legal profession does not see itself as responsible for the moral consequences of its actions…

Then who is?

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References

Pheasant, B. (2002, April 24). Clayton Utz to run ethics audit. The Australian Financial Review.

Rawsthorne, S. (2026, March 18). Why this Sydney university is under fire from three directions. The Sydney Morning Herald.

Simons, M. (2002, August 4). Lawyers not moral judges – Clayton Utz chief. Sunday Age.