Richard Barrie

Born: June 7, 1962

Died: September 7, 2024

Richard Alexander Barrie – or “RAB” – was much more than a litigator or solicitor. He was one of that special breed of court lawyers that Glasgow manages to produce. He was a fixer. A street fighter. Sporting his trademark thick-rimmed glasses and an immaculate designer suit, it was Richard to whom so many clients large and small, famous and obscure, turned when they had their back against a wall.

Practising from MacRoberts, where he was made partner in 1992, and latterly with Levy & McRae, RAB was a pioneer in the field of construction project litigation at a time before it became the well-established specialism it is today. He was the sub-contractor’s hired gun of choice. And after the creation of a new form of dispute resolution called adjudication in 1996 there was perhaps no-one better placed to put the “smash” into what construction lawyers now refer to as a “smash and grab” claim.

It is not surprising that the law reports are full of many of Richard’s cases from the early days of the new regime just as they are with a variety of other cases in which he acted and which continue to be cited of routine in the courts by commercial lawyers. Indeed, Richard contributed to all three editions of the textbook MacRoberts on Scottish Building Contracts.

But it was unlikely that one would ever find Richard with his nose in a law report, at least not for very long. Rather, he was a master tactician and supreme strategist. By some dark art, he saw things in a case or situation which eluded the rest of us trying to find the solution in the footnotes of the textbooks.

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Richard was a swaggering and energetic rebuke to those who cling to the idea that law is an academic science which should always produce the same result regardless of conditions. He well understood that this was a nonsense and could deploy that understanding to devastating effect. That is why clients and colleagues loved him. They trusted him to try to achieve the impossible.

And, unlike many self-proclaimed “leading” litigators, Richard saw himself as others saw him, and, more importantly, was still prepared to set the example by rolling up his sleeves and getting into the trenches. He would, particularly in the early days of the new construction regime, square off against senior and junior counsel and stand up to disgruntled judges, arbitrators and adjudicators in cases worth many millions of pounds. He was not afraid of anyone and had justifiable confidence in his own abilities, without ever condescending.

But we should be clear that the allure of appearing in court could fade, very quickly, if Richard was having a good Cheltenham or if his beloved Rangers had made it to a European final. In those circumstances it was only a matter of time before an assistant or associate received a phone call on which instructions would be issued for the proof starting tomorrow at this sheriff court or that sheriff court. RAB would never seek to conceal the sound of hooves thumping, glasses clinking or golf balls being struck in the background (he conducted a number of negotiations with mobile phone pressed to his shoulder and sand iron firmly in hand).

But those who roll their eyes at this should understand the most important point: Richard never threw his colleagues or juniors under the bus. And that was why all of those who had to deal with a “RAB Special” from time to time were prepared to go over the top for him. They were loyal to him, and he was loyal to them. If it went wrong, Richard would take the flak and nearly always land on his feet.

Clients were used to – and liked – straight talking from Richard. On being asked to issue a guarantee that a decision in a very complex and difficult case would go the client’s way, Richard explained firmly that he was not in the business of selling washing machines. Another client, who had a penchant for wearing permanently a Bluetooth earpiece from which he would take urgent calls, was told that the said gizmo had better not be worn at a critical summit as “Tracy Island could get in touch after the meeting if necessary!”

On another occasion, at consultation, he asked a former Scotland internationalist to play a recording he had made of an expletive ridden bust-up with another former top-flight footballer, not because it would have any evidential or material value in the case, but simply “to give us all a good laugh”.

Like many litigators he had to adapt to the new world of online court hearings. In Richard’s case, following a “diary error”, this meant borrowing at the last minute and then sporting a tie which clashed with one of his extraordinary array of designer polo shirts (garments which made use of colour palettes which only the most self-assured would consider adopting in public, never mind in court).

Richard was a fan of the Miami DolphinsRichard was a fan of the Miami Dolphins (Image: PA)

Richard, unlike far too many lawyers, would use one word, even if ten would do. That is unless he was recounting a recent escapade or revelling in a delicious morsel of gossip. In these circumstances one would encounter the special RAB pout (imagine a Glaswegian Jagger) and flick of the hair (colour: “wine bar gold”) as he modulated his voice at the peroration of stories that, once told, could never be forgotten.

If you had the misfortune to consider that Richard Barrie was not your cup of tea, it was because he wasn’t a cup of tea. Richard was a fizzing pint of Tennent’s lager with a great head and crisp finish. And that was increasingly refreshing in a world of oat milk flat whites and pretentious craft beers.

Richard’s hinterland was so rich that there was nothing hinter about it. He would much rather talk about football, golf, politics, the form on the racetrack, the Rangers and the Miami Dolphins. But the magic in him was that he could draw on all these things together with his wry understanding of the ways of the world in talking plainly to clients and decision makers about extremely complicated matters of real substance. He would only tell a war story if it was absurdly funny. And if he was a protagonist, Richard would never seek to aggrandise his own involvement in the tale.

In a profession where too many take themselves far too seriously, Richard could artfully self-deprecate without ever compromising the crackling presence and charisma which everyone who knew him well will remember so fondly, and now miss so terribly.

By SCOTT MANSON

At The Herald, we carry obituaries of notable people from the worlds of business, politics, arts and sport but sometimes we miss people who have led extraordinary lives. That's where you come in. If you know someone who deserves an obituary, please consider telling us about their lives. Contact garry.scott@heraldandtimes.co.uk