Learn why district court sittings in Wexford would never make for good television

By Megan Farrell, Wexford People

Imagine turning on the television after a long day and seeing a brand new courtroom drama called “District Court: Wexford Edition.”

The camera pans across the courtroom. A Garda shifts in his seat, a solicitor rifles through paperwork muttering about a missing file, and a man loudly whispers, “what are you being done for?.”

Meanwhile, the Judge is deep in thought over whether someone really was only in their car after a night out drinking to eat their chipper out of the rain.

Coming up next: A woman claims her neighbour is cutting her hedges. The neighbour counters, “sure the hedges are falling over onto my shed.” Riveting.

On courtroom television shows like Judge Judy, How to Get Away With Murder, or The Lincoln Lawyer, emotions run high, tempers flare, and everyone’s shouting “objection!” even though no one has put anything before the court. There’s a signature catchphrase, a dramatic reveal, and at least one person storming out of the court in tears.

Meanwhile in Irish courtrooms the most common phrase heard in court isn’t a dramatic “order in the court!” but rather “we’ll adjourn this to September 12 c.”

Irish district courts are where minor criminal cases, licensing issues, and civil matters are quietly processed by overworked Judges and underwhelmed defendants.

There are no slow-motion walkouts with a satisfied smirk and the swinging of a brief case set to a catchy riff. There’s usually just a man with no insurance and a woman trying to explain why her dog ran after a child in the estate.

If you’re expecting the Judge to deliver a heated monologue about morals and justice, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. You’re more likely to hear:

“Do you have proof of insurance with you today?”

“No Judge, I forgot to bring it with me.”

“Okay we’ll adjourn the matter to give you a chance to produce your insurance to the gardaí.”

The judges portrayed on television are half magistrate and half stand-up comedian. They scorn defendants, hand out life lessons, and tie it all together nicely with a mic-drop verdict, a personal favourite from Judge Judy is “don’t pee on my leg and tell me its raining” or “beauty fades, dumb is forever.”

In contrast, Irish judges are much more patient and restrained. They won’t be found shouting “you’re a liar and a thief” at someone who parked in a loading bay while they collected their spicebag.

Their role mostly involves listening to the gardaí give evidence, reading witness statements, and politely asking people to wait their turn to give their side of the story.

On television cases involve million-dollar fraud, custody battles, or secret twins. In Irish district courts? A claim that the neighbouring farm is slowly killing you with the toxic pesticides they use, a too drunk man arguing with the door staff of Maggie Mays, or the tenth speeding offence of the day. The most explosive courtroom moment in a given week might be a defendant actually showing up on time.

In courtroom dramas people treat legal representation like it’s additional flair. People defend themselves with the passion of a poet and the legal accuracy of a pigeon pecking a keyboard. In Irish district courts, legal representation is taken seriously. Barristers appear in gowns, and along with solicitors, speak with calm precision, not the theatrical bravado you see on courtroom dramas.

While on these shows defendants might scream “I know my rights”, the Irish version is closer to “my client pleads guilty, Judge. He was somewhat intoxicated at the time.”

Thanks to courtroom television, some first-time defendants or curious observers walk into Irish court expecting fireworks.

Instead, the sobering reality is no dramatic outbursts, no banging of a gavel, and instead of a unanimous emotional gasp from the rows of people seated in the courtroom there is quietness while they wonder when the judge will rise so they can go get lunch.

While television courtroom shows are addictive, theatrical, and heavily edited for maximum drama. They’re a cross between a legal seminar and a WWE promotion.

Sadly they’re not real court. Irish district courts, on the other hand, are slow, methodical, and often boring, but they’re real. They deal with ordinary people, real-life messiness, and a lot of confusion about dates, documents, and disclosure.

They might not make for good television but they do make for good justice. Justice may be blind, she definitely doesn’t binge-watch Judge Judy in the district court. But if she does, she probably turns it off after five minutes and mutters “they’d never get away with that in Wexford!”.