That is what lawyers do. That is why clients hire lawyers.
In the long tradition of professional life, the line between lawful advocacy and improper pressure is rarely drawn cleanly, and Wellington lawyer Stephen Franks found himself on the wrong side of that line—until a review officer put him back. A Standards Committee of the New Zealand Law Society had censured Franks for sending a letter on firm letterhead to health practitioners about gender-affirming care, interpreting the act as weaponizing legal process. The review officer disagreed, finding that a lawyer writing a letter for a client is simply a lawyer doing what lawyers do, and that the regulatory apparatus had confused the weight of professional authority with the misuse of it. The case now stands as a quiet but pointed reminder that professional regulation, however well-intentioned, is not immune to the pressures of the moment.
- A fifty-year veteran of the law was fined and censured not for threatening litigation, but for the mere fact of writing a letter on his firm's letterhead—a routine act recast as professional misconduct.
- Six complaints were filed, none by the twenty practitioners who actually received the letter, and two by fellow lawyers, raising immediate questions about who was truly aggrieved and why.
- The review officer found the Standards Committee had conflated the authority a lawyer's signature carries with the coercive machinery of legal process itself—a distinction he called fundamental.
- The censure was reversed in a decision the reviewer described as genuinely rare, restoring Franks' standing but leaving behind a silence from the Law Society that he found more wounding than the original ruling.
- Franks emerged publicly critical, warning that ideological capture of regulatory bodies poses a quiet threat to the basic freedoms of professional communication that underpin the rule of law.
Stephen Franks, a Wellington lawyer with five decades of practice, has had a professional censure overturned after a legal complaints review officer found he had done nothing wrong in sending a letter to health practitioners about gender-affirming care. The letter, written on his firm's letterhead in early 2024, became public and drew six complaints—none from the twenty practitioners who received it, and two from fellow lawyers.
The Standards Committee had concluded that Franks improperly used the weight of legal authority to pressure medical professionals, suggesting he should have advised his client to send the letter under their own name. But review officer Fraser Goldsmith rejected this reasoning entirely. The letter contained no suggestion of a legal right to sue, he found, and therefore was not the use of legal process at all. 'That is what lawyers do,' Goldsmith wrote, expressing surprise the committee had not first examined whether the complainants had sufficient personal interest to involve the Law Society at all.
Goldsmith also affirmed the broader principle: exerting pressure on a health provider to reconsider a procedure, through lawful means, is itself lawful. A lawyer's letter expressing a client's views on policy and potential legal risk falls squarely within that category. He reversed the unsatisfactory conduct finding and all disciplinary orders—a majority decision he noted was exceptionally rare in his experience.
Franks was unsparing in his response, calling the original ruling an embarrassment to the profession and warning of ideological capture within regulatory bodies. What stung him most, however, was not the censure itself but the absence of any acknowledgment from the Law Society afterward—no call, no apology, despite his decades of voluntary service to the organization. The Law Society noted that Standards Committees are independent bodies, and that of 165 review applications in the 2024-25 year, only 26 decisions were reversed or partially reversed. Franks' case is among that rare few.
Stephen Franks, a Wellington lawyer with five decades of practice behind him, has won a rare victory in overturning a professional censure that had rankled him deeply. Last October, a Standards Committee of the Law Society found him guilty of unsatisfactory conduct and fined him for sending a letter to health practitioners about gender-affirming care. The letter, written on his law firm's letterhead in February of the previous year, had become public and sparked considerable debate. But this May, a legal complaints review officer named Fraser Goldsmith reversed the committee's decision entirely, finding that Franks had done nothing wrong.
The original complaint centered on how Franks had sent the letter. The Standards Committee concluded that by using his firm's letterhead and legal authority, he had improperly weaponized legal process itself—using the threat of potential litigation to pressure medical professionals into reconsidering whether they should continue offering gender-affirming care. The committee suggested he should have advised his client to send the letter under their own name instead, stripping it of the weight that a lawyer's signature carries. Six complaints had been filed against Franks, though notably none came from the twenty health practitioners who actually received the letter. Two came from other lawyers.
Goldsmith's review took a different view entirely. He found that the letter contained no suggestion or implication that the client had any legal right to sue the medical practitioners. Therefore, it was not the use of a legal process at all—it was simply a letter. Goldsmith rejected the argument that any communication from a lawyer automatically constitutes the use of legal process merely because a lawyer wrote it. "That is what lawyers do," he wrote. "That is why a client comes to its lawyer and says, 'We need a lawyer's letter about this'. This cannot conceivably be improper in principle." He expressed surprise that the Standards Committee had not considered whether the complainants even had sufficient personal interest to warrant the Law Society's involvement in the first place. Two of the six complainants were practicing lawyers themselves, and Goldsmith wondered aloud whether they would have taken the same position if the circumstances had been reversed.
The reviewer also made a broader observation about the legitimacy of the underlying activity. Exerting pressure on a health care provider to refrain from medical procedures that a relevant interest group objects to is lawful, provided the means are lawful. A lawyer writing a letter on behalf of a client expressing views on policy issues and potential legal risks is a lawful activity. On that basis, Goldsmith found that the committee's finding could not stand. He reversed the unsatisfactory conduct determination and the disciplinary orders that flowed from it. The decision was a majority one—Goldsmith noted that such reversals are rare, and he could recall reading only one other in his experience.
Franks has not been quiet about his vindication. He called the original ruling "stupid" and said it was embarrassing for the legal profession, which had shown itself "so hostile to basic elements of practice and freedom of speech." He pointed out that lawyers have been writing cautionary letters for the entire span of his fifty-year career, warning clients of potential legal exposure or suggesting that someone might be doing something unlawful. There is nothing new or improper about it. He was particularly critical of what he sees as ideological capture of the regulatory apparatus—people, he suggested, who are looking for ways to moralize and shut down communication they dislike, much as previous generations might have sought to suppress other forms of expression.
What rankled Franks most was not the initial censure itself, but the silence that followed the reversal. Despite his decades of service to the Law Society, including as convenor of both the company law and commercial law committees, and despite the thousands of free hours he has contributed, no one from the organization bothered to call and apologize or acknowledge how damaging the original finding had been to the profession's reputation. He was glad the decision was a majority one, he said, because it showed that not everyone involved in the regulatory process was, in his view, an "idiot." But the lack of any gesture of recognition stung.
The Law Society responded by noting that Standards Committees are independent decision-making bodies composed of both lawyers and lay members, appointed by the Law Society Board for fixed terms with a nine-year maximum. During the 2024-25 reporting year, 1,366 complaints were referred to Standards Committees for consideration. The Legal Complaints Review Officer received 165 applications for review during the same period. Of the Standards Committee decisions reviewed, 89 were confirmed, 23 were confirmed but modified, and 26 were reversed or partially reversed. Franks' case falls into that last category—a genuine rarity in the regulatory landscape.
Citações Notáveis
The original ruling was stupid and embarrassing for the legal profession, which showed itself so hostile to basic elements of practice and freedom of speech.— Stephen Franks
That is what lawyers do. That is why a client comes to its lawyer and says, 'We need a lawyer's letter about this'. This cannot conceivably be improper in principle.— Fraser Goldsmith, Legal Complaints Review Officer
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did the review officer think the original committee got it so wrong?
Because the committee treated the act of a lawyer sending a letter as inherently the use of legal process—as if the letterhead itself was a threat. But Goldsmith saw it differently. He said lawyers send letters all the time to lend weight to client concerns. That's the job. The letter didn't actually threaten litigation; it just expressed a client's position on a policy matter.
So the committee was saying Franks should have hidden the fact that he was a lawyer?
Not exactly hidden it, but the committee thought the client should have sent the letter themselves, under their own name. That way, there would be no appearance of legal muscle behind it. Goldsmith found that reasoning flawed. He said any letter from a lawyer is meant to carry weight—that's why clients hire lawyers in the first place.
Did the review officer seem frustrated with the committee?
Yes, quite noticeably. He expressed surprise that the committee hadn't even considered whether the complainants had a real stake in the matter. And he was particularly struck that two of the six complainants were lawyers themselves. He wondered if they'd have felt the same way if the positions were reversed.
What bothers Franks most now?
Not the reversal itself—he's vindicated. What stings is that no one from the Law Society called to apologize or acknowledge how embarrassing the original finding was for the profession. He's given decades of service, thousands of free hours, and the silence felt like a slap.
Is this decision likely to change how the Law Society handles similar cases?
That's unclear. The Law Society said Standards Committees are independent. But Goldsmith's reasoning—that lawyers routinely send letters meant to persuade and pressure—is pretty fundamental to legal practice. It's hard to see how you regulate that without becoming hostile to basic professional function.