If there is a dark secret, it’s usually something to do with sex. Women (and it’s almost always women in these kinds of cases) may have lived with the knowledge of their spouse’s egregious behaviour for quite some time.
Chambers pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Like Mrs Polkinghorne,” she says.
She is, of course, referring to the society murder trial that gripped her Remuera neighbourhood for much of last year.
Retired eye surgeon Philip Polkinghorne, whose $6 million mansion on Upland Rd is being put up for sale, was found not guilty of killing his wife, Pauline Hanna.
Amid the fallout, including evidence presented in court about his liaisons with multiple sex workers and meth use, Chambers went public opposing Polkinghorne’s continued membership of Auckland’s exclusive Northern Club on character grounds.
Why summer is NZ’s ‘divorce season’
The reasons people might choose to stay in a bad marriage are as many and as varied as why they decide to leave. Some of it even comes down to the weather.
In the UK and the US, divorce lawyers are hit with such a surge in inquiries after the Christmas holidays that the first working Monday of the New Year is known as Divorce Day.
A similar pattern happens in New Zealand over summer, according to Chambers, who was dubbed a “Divorce Diva” in LawFuel’s 2024 Power List.
“We have this lovely long break that’s usually spent with your significant other,” she says. “By the end of it, you might be eyeballing each other and thinking, ‘Actually, I’m not sure if I even really like you that much any more’.
“A lot of people do stand back and have a look at whether they’re living the life they want to live. And women have more choices now because they know they’re unlikely to be left with nothing.”
A past president of the Auckland Women Lawyers’ Association, Chambers has a reputation as a straight shooter (an opinion piece she wrote for the Herald in 2022 strongly criticised elements of the Government’s Covid response as breaching the New Zealand Bill of Rights) and a fearless advocate for her clients.
The view from her 22nd-floor office at Bankside Chambers is as vertiginous as her designer stiletto heels, sweeping majestically across the Waitematā Harbour to Rangitoto.
On her bookshelf is a personalised coffee mug, a present from one of her instructing solicitors, that reads “Keep Calm And Brief Debs”.
Ranked as a high net-worth barrister at the New Zealand Bar for the past four years, Chambers specialises in cases involving a complex tangle of relationship property and ring-fenced trusts, billing a premium for her time.
So while lawyers are required to inform their clients about the availability of counselling and encourage reconciliation, “you’re probably further down the road by the time you pick up the phone to speak to me”.
New Zealand’s divorce rate has been declining steadily since the early 2000s, despite shedding the taint of social stigma.
Over the years, Chambers has seen the legal system respond to a change in cultural norms that once trapped people in unhappy marriages.
While parents remain conscious of the traumatic impact a separation may have on their children, many modern relationships that begin with “reckless abandon” fade into sterile companionship over time.
“People want to be free to be true to themselves, and they want passionate romance to continue,” she says.
“Although having a series of relationships is disruptive, people are still willing to upend their lives because often they are a great deal happier on the other side.”
Tradwives and the danger of being financially dependent
Chambers, who was made a Queen’s Counsel (now King’s Counsel) in 2007, has been at the helm of several landmark divorce cases that have made legal history here.
Z v Z, where the ex-wife was awarded a share of her husband’s future income, led to provisions on earning capacity being written into the Property (Relationships) Act.
Clayton v Clayton, which involved a $30 million estate, led to the Supreme Court ruling that assets held within a business trust could be treated as relationship property and should be divided.
While such judgments have helped level the playing field, divorce “hits women in the guts” financially. “The figures are very clear on that,” she says.
“We know statistically that divorce still results in women’s standard of living dropping. Even with child support, the greater proportion of costs is likely to be carried by the parent who has the children in their care.
“I see women who realise the implications [of a divorce] and decide not to jump because they’re just too financially frightened. They’ve lost their earning capacity, or their earning capacity is so much less than their financial position in the marriage.”
Don’t get her started on the “tradwife” movement that’s currently having a moment in the US. Giving up your financial independence to warm the hearth is a risky move, she warns, whether you’re male or female.
“Money matters, and that dynamic feeds into the rest of the relationship. The person who’s got the earning capacity is going to have more power. And it’s not just divorce that can happen 20 or 30 years down the track, when you get traded in. There’s the death of your partner, which also ends your access to income.”
The balance of power is slowly changing; some of Chambers’ female clients now earn more than their husbands.
According to Wikipedia, her own earning ability was three to four times higher at one point than that of her late husband, Sir Robert Chambers, who was made a judge of the Supreme Court in 2011.
His sudden death from a brain aneurysm in 2013 was a terrible blow for Chambers, who uses her spousal title “Lady Chambers” sparingly. A framed photograph from their wedding day in 2004 leans against the law books on her shelf.
The mother of two adult daughters from her first marriage, she also understands from personal experience how painful a divorce can be.
“Well, it was okay,” she says. “We certainly didn’t go to court. There’s still a lot of hurt there, though, because I was leaving my first husband for Rob, who I’d just fallen madly in love with. So I know what it’s like. It’s hard. But I don’t have any regrets.
“In general, people think long and hard before they end a long-term relationship and they’ve usually got very good reasons for it.
“A lot of my clients come in miserable for one reason or another, whether because they want out or their partner wants out. And three or four years later, they’re just way happier. Way happier. I would say very few of them regret it.”
Despite the rise of de facto relationships, complex separations that require the untangling of considerable wealth usually involve long-term marriages.
Chambers still sees women who have been completely shut out from their husband’s financial affairs and given limited access to funds, an arrangement they may have entered into willingly at the start.
Some are kept on such a tight leash that they rely on an allowance to cover their expenses. “And not a very generous one necessarily,” she adds. “Others will have an unlimited credit card, but they’re so well trained, they don’t go bananas on it.
“Then there are others who are free to go down to Louis Vuitton or Gucci and buy a handbag every week. It’s pretty vacant though, isn’t it? Even if you love that you’ve got these flash handbags, you just have to keep them dusted.”
The true cost of divorce: ‘You’re looking at serious dough’
It would be easy to make the mistake of assuming Chambers is the product of rarefied privilege, with her immaculate grooming and elite clientele. In fact, she once described her roots as “white trash”.
Her working-class parents lived in a state house on Auckland’s North Shore. For many years, her brother was a member of the Hells Angels.
At university, she marched against the Springbok Tour and later spent three years as a criminal prosecutor, including a stint in Glasgow. “That was definitely much grimmer,” she says, when asked if working on some of her more acrimonious divorce cases is depressing.
“I get frustrated sometimes with people. ‘Oh, my God, you did what? You decided what? Why did you put up with that? Wake up!’
“But even when you’re dealing with people who have had very unhappy or abusive relationships, at least they’re on the road to getting out of there. You have the satisfaction of helping them along that road and hopefully seeing a much happier person down the track.”
Where considerable or contested assets are at stake, however, it can be a gruelling process. On average, it takes three years to finalise a divorce in New Zealand through the courts.
In one high-profile split, Auckland mother of three Sarah Sparks spent $2 million in legal fees trying to untangle the financial affairs of her ex-husband, property developer Greg Olliver.
A quicker, cheaper and often more harmonious option is to settle via mediation, which is still likely to cost between $50,000 and $100,000.
“That’s a good scenario,” says Chambers. “Going to court is a great deal more expensive. Then you’re really looking at serious dough.”
The UK only brought in no-fault divorce in 2022 and still, like Australia, makes no division between separate property (inherited property and property you had before you started living together, which does not get divided) and relationship property (acquired during the relationship).
New Zealand law makes that distinction clear and there’s no bias in favour of the money earner. “No presumption that a financial contribution is to have greater weight than a non-financial contribution has been part of our law for a long time.”
Another aspect of the legal system that’s significantly changed for the better is the treatment and support of children; a Parenting through Separation course is run through the Family Court. However, Chambers believes our generally more progressive approach has stalled.
Two Law Commission reports – recommending (among many other things) a more defined process for calculating compensation or payment for the division of functions in the marriage, and better trust-busting provisions – have been left to languish.
Chambers points to the US, where separations are settled far more quickly. “A lot of states have this process where you file a proceeding and that automatically freezes everything,” she says.
“You cannot sell or deal with anything without the court’s permission, so people are incentivised to settle, and they have much better processes for disclosure.”
Get your affairs in order before you split
Chambers has a long checklist of advice for people on the financial repercussions of a potential separation and how to set themselves up for the best outcome – from the valuation of assets and documenting of joint property to the long-term consequences of enrolling children at private schools.
“I talk about buying all the things they might need now, because there may be three years ahead of living fairly frugally: new curtains, new carpets, new cars, plastic surgery, clothes…
“I would also encourage them to get a support group to help them through what will be a difficult time. Women are better at that than men, but men need it just as much as women.”
She once told a journalist that it’s impossible not to be a feminist if you’re a female lawyer, but not all of Chambers’ clients are women. She enjoys representing men and reckons most are willing to act generously – although some take time to adjust to the idea that it’s not “their money”.
“Men are much better, usually, at dealing with professionals. They’re used to making decisions and they’re often less emotional.”
Inevitably, that’s not always the case. In one well-publicised court battle (the subject of permanent name suppression), she acted for a high-profile political figure whose messy divorce from his wife involved allegations of espionage, infidelity and dog-napping.
Revenge stories, too, are legendary. One of her clients tipped a bag of fresh meat soup through the perforated leather holes surrounding the gear stick and handbrake of her husband’s flash new car. Professional cleaners were called in but failed to remove the smell.
“Another one I heard about, which I thought was an absolute banger, was where he got the house she’d been living in. So, before the settlement date, she crawled under and disconnected the pipe from the loo. Then she unscrewed their round, hollow curtain rails and put tinned fish inside. Imagine that!”
In a sign of the times, Chambers now adds a clause in separation agreements where both parties agree to treat each other respectfully on social media and refrain from sharing private information about the settlement.
“People are angry, they’re disappointed, they’re hurt, they’re frightened. All these emotions are happening at divorce time and so people can behave badly,” she says.
“A good lawyer should be doing their level best to try and stop that kind of behaviour because it’s so destructive. Although I think the guy with the soup slightly admired it; he could see the humour in it.”
Contrary to recent media speculation about her relationship with a certain former MP and Auckland mayor, she states unequivocally that she is not going out with John Banks.
Yet despite all the heartache she’s seen through her work and the notoriously slippery nature of love, Chambers isn’t cynical about marriage and the public commitment it signifies.
Would she ever get married again?
“I might,” she says. “It’s not something I’m kind of charging around wanting to do, but I might. Yes, I might.”
Joanna Wane is an award-winning senior feature writer in the New Zealand Herald’s Lifestyle Premium team, with a special interest in social issues and the arts.