28th October 2025 - (Hong Kong) The wig has had a long run. Introduced to English courtrooms in the late 17th century to project neutrality and decorum, it migrated across the empire and took root in Hong Kong. It survived the 1997 handover as a symbol of continuity within a common law system that rightly prides itself on independence and fairness. It has also survived a generation of grumbles about sweaty summers, impracticality and the cost of horsehair. Now, with British criminal courts preparing to allow barristers to abandon wigs in criminal cases, Hong Kong should take the obvious step and end the practice altogether.
The case for retirement is not fashion, iconoclasm or an urge to erase the past. It is a clear-eyed assessment of function, fairness and context. Courtroom attire must serve justice, not the other way round. If the very jurisdiction that exported the convention is relaxing it in the arena where ceremony is most entrenched, Hong Kong can with confidence move beyond the wig without jeopardising the dignity or authority of its courts.
The courtroom is a workplace where life, liberty and property are at stake. Uniforms signal role, ensure a baseline of formality and remove a little of the personality that might distract from the argument. None of that requires a horsehair headpiece devised for the 17th century gentleman. A plain, well-cut gown achieves neutrality and authority without imposing a relic that many find uncomfortable, exclusionary or simply irrelevant to the task at hand.
Barristers in Hong Kong lug files through punishing humidity, stepping into crowded courtrooms where air-conditioning is not always a match for a subtropical day. Former chief justices have acknowledged the discomfort. Convenience should not dictate justice, but neither should ritual hinder it. When junior advocates are juggling bundles, laptops and a bar wig case, the symbolism starts to look costly and contrived.
Black barristers in England and Wales have long argued that traditional wigs were designed for Caucasian hair and do not sit properly on textured hair, leaving them with a choice between discomfort, expensive alternatives or incongruous appearance. The Bar Council in London convened a working group in response. Some continue to defend the wig as a leveller, asserting that it anonymises and equalises the bar. In practice, status at the bar is read in language, seniority, address and the cut of a gown; anonymity is already a fiction in close-knit courts. An item that imposes disproportionate burdens on some members of the profession, even if unintentionally, fails the levelling test.
Even in Hong Kong, where a single wig might last years, the outlay is non-trivial, with specialist cleaning services and ceremonial variants priced in the tens of thousands of Hong Kong dollars. For young barristers facing precarious earnings in their first years of practice, mandatory regalia is a barrier, not an aid. The profession already struggles with retention and diversity; removing unnecessary financial hurdles is an easy, measurable reform.
Supporters of tradition advance three arguments i.e. the wig enhances solemnity; it reinforces continuity with the common law heritage; and it protects barristers' privacy. The first is better delivered by conduct than costume. Respectful advocacy, punctuality, scrupulous disclosure and reasoned judgments create solemnity that survives any wardrobe change. The second rests on conflating heritage with habit. Hong Kong's common law character lies in case law, due process, judicial independence and reasoned precedent. It is not contained in a queue of curls. The third concern, privacy, is thoroughly modern yet overstated. Security risks to counsel are real in certain cases, and the system should respond with sensible measures, but the wig is a weak shield in an age of ubiquitous cameras and social media. Court security, confidentiality of addresses and protective orders are more credible tools.
Relations between the United Kingdom and Hong Kong are fraught. London's six-monthly reports on Hong Kong have been denounced by local and mainland authorities as interference. The British government has offered refuge to certain Hong Kong activists and granted asylum to wanted fugitives, drawing formal protests. Senior officials in the HKSAR have summoned diplomats to object to "harbouring" offenders and to insist that prosecutions are based on evidence and law. In that climate, clinging to a British court dress convention looks increasingly detached. Symbols communicate. Continuing to don a British wig while arguing that Hong Kong's legal order is uniquely its own strains logic and optics.
This is not a call to politicise the wardrobe. On the contrary, it is an invitation to de-politicise it. The surest way to prevent the wig from becoming a political totem is to set it aside as a matter of administrative reform, grounded in functionality and fairness. Former chief justices have suggested that court uniforms should and will continue, even if wigs are dispensed with. That is the right balance: preserve a dignified, uniform appearance suitable for a court of law; remove a headpiece that serves little purpose in 2025.
Experience elsewhere is instructive. Australia and the United States have long resisted or retired wigs. The United Kingdom's Supreme Court has dispensed with them for civil matters for years. England and Wales scaled back wig use in 2007 and are now opening the door for criminal practitioners to appear bareheaded where the wig is uncomfortable or impractical. None of these jurisdictions has witnessed a collapse in courtroom standards or a diminution of judicial authority. Proceedings remain grave because the stakes are grave; the attire follows.
The Hong Kong judiciary, after consultation with the Bar and Law Society, can issue a practice direction abolishing wigs across all levels and lists, retaining gowns and tabs as the standard uniform. Ceremonial occasions could adopt a modernised dress that preserves gravitas without echoing a London costume rack. Provisions already in place allowing religious head coverings instead of wigs become moot, simplifying compliance while safeguarding freedom of belief.
Traditions endure when they serve. When they do not, they become affectations. The British bar is loosening the rules where it once clung to them most tightly. Hong Kong should go further and make a clean break. Put away the wigs. Keep the law.