Legal columnist HUGH SELBY sets his imagination (and experience as a barrister) loose to paint a picture of how the judge who ordered a breastfeeding mother from his court in Melbourne on Thursday might be feeling (or not)…

“GOOD evening, gentlemen. Your colleagues are already in the lounge. Shall I bring the usual for you both?”

“Yes, please, Andrew, but a little less ice and a little more of that single malt. It’s been a hell of a day.”

“Certainly, sir”.

“What’s got you so stirred up? I thought you had a jury trial this week with competent counsel on both sides. What could go wrong?”

“Haven’t you read, seen or heard the early evening news?  I’m the unwitting centre of attention and the Chief Judge has already booked a call for later tonight to discuss it.”

“Discuss what?”

“Aagh. The day began well enough. Defence continued with her cross-examination of the police officer-in-charge that began yesterday. Most of the jurors were paying attention, but one was clearly somewhere else than the courtroom.”

“You mean they didn’t turn up?”

“No. They were there in body but not in spirit, rather like us at the end of a long week, I suppose.”

“And…“

‘A young woman came in with an infant in a stroller. I think she was connected to the accused in some way or other, because I picked up some body language cues between them. Then she sat down, front row of the public gallery, smack in my line of sight, and completely changed the ambience and the view.”

“Whose view?”

“My view, of course. You know how elevated the bench is in that courtroom. As she sat there, unless I very deliberately looked to one side or the other, I was assaulted by her cleavage.”

“So what did you do that has the Chief Judge interrupting your mid-week streaming series after dinner? I hope you didn’t make a sexist remark, did you?”

“I passed a note to my new associate asking her if she could ask the young woman to move to one side or the other.”

“Did that work?”

“Alas, no, because before my associate could do that the infant began crying, loudly, reminding me of my latest grandchild.  Naturally, mum picked her up, rocked her – which didn’t work, then sat down and began breast feeding the noisy beastie.

“The problem was mine. The baby was happy, its mum seemed happy, but I was now mightily distracted by altogether too much in direct, bird’s-eye view.

“I looked down at the jury. It was made up of seven men and seven women, with the usual 13 and 14 being there as spares.  I sized up the men, two of whom were now absorbed by the mother and child.

“I picked up the ‘Manual for Jury Trials’ for some guidance. Under “Managing the Public Gallery’ there was information about warning those present not to take photo or video, not to engage in chatter, and to turn off their phones. There was nothing about breastfeeding mums.

“When I looked up again the number of distracted male jurors had risen to five, but defence counsel seemed to be unaware of what was going on.

“What I should have done, ah sweet hindsight, was to send out the jury using the usual excuse of, ‘there’s a matter that needs to be discussed briefly in your absence’ and then politely thanked mum for being there, but asking her to sit on the same side of the courtroom as the jury box – thereby solving all problems at once, and giving the accused and her a better line of sight.”

“So, lacking such hindsight inspiration, what did you do exactly?”

“I muffed it, completely. In open court I spoke to the mum, asking her to finish the breastfeeding outside the courtroom and then come back because she was distracting the jury.  Even as I finished, and she got up, buttoning up, to put the infant in the stroller, I knew I was in for a public flogging. Among the women jurors there were a few who gave me the instant look of, ‘And from what primeval swamp did you crawl today?'”

“You’d better ask Andrew for two shots and book an Uber or taxi home, old fellow.”

“Home, home – it’s where they have to take you in, but they don’t have to be supportive. My pediatrician daughter is dropping by for dinner tonight and she listens to the news as she drives from the hospital. I can hear her and her mother now. I’ll have been well and truly tortured before the Chief Judge delivers her coup de grace.”

“Let’s go in. I’m sure that one or more will have empathy for your plight.”

“Oh, really, look at the TV, there I am on the news. It’s that awful photo that makes me look Neanderthal. I wonder if that infant sleeps through the night. I won’t be!”

Breastfeeding mother and baby kicked out of court