Careers in law are often imagined as carefully mapped journeys, marked by predictable milestones and steady progression. Yet the reality is far less certain, and for many, success comes not from following a fixed route but from navigating detours, setbacks, and unexpected opportunities. Some find their calling early; others stumble upon it after searching elsewhere. What unites the most remarkable stories is the resilience to keep moving forward and the instinct to recognise the right moment when it arrives.

Rebecca Murray’s story is not the tale of a straight path carved with certainty; it is one defined by instinct, resilience, and an unrelenting belief that the universe had something greater in store for her. Today, she stands as one of the UK’s most formidable tax barristers at Devereux Chambers, but her beginnings tell a very different story.

“I never really had a grand plan,” she admits. “At every stage, I was simply following my instincts.”

Her early academic life was rooted in the sciences—mathematics, physics, and chemistry—driven by a youthful dream of flying into space. Yet, when the idea of a scientific career failed to spark her imagination, she pivoted towards something she considered more “practical and versatile”: a law degree at King’s College London. At first, she found the discipline uninspiring, but everything changed when she encountered tax law in her final year. The subject unlocked a world that merged intellectual challenge with real-world impact, setting the stage for a career she hadn’t expected but instantly knew was right for her.

Searching for Stability

Still, the young graduate was pragmatic. “I wanted security and a home, something I had not had growing up,” she recalls. Stability, however, was not something the Bar could offer. Barristers lived with financial uncertainty and irregular work—a reality that hardly supported aspirations like getting a mortgage. So, Murray explored accountancy and even turned down an offer from Arthur Andersen, then one of the “Big Five” (today the “Big Four” after Andersen’s dissolution), as well as opportunities with Grant Thornton.

Her instincts led her to Grant Thornton, where she found not only a place that valued its graduates but also an environment that allowed her to grow. She earned her ATT and CTA qualifications and rotated across departments, eventually rising to the position of Manager in National Tax. From there, her ambition carried her to the corporate banking world, joining JP Morgan in 2006.

It was a meteoric rise. Within a short time, she was promoted to Vice President, working on high-value transactions that tested her intellect and endurance. Yet even at this pinnacle, she felt a tug pulling her elsewhere. “I was itching to get out of the corporate environment and find my own voice,” she says. Trusting her instincts once again, she resigned from JP Morgan—despite being its youngest Vice President—and turned towards the Bar with no pupillage in sight.

It was, by any measure, a leap of faith.

The Harsh Realities of Pupillage

When Murray finally secured a pupillage at Temple Tax Chambers, it should have been a moment of triumph. Instead, it was the beginning of a grueling test of character. From her very first day, she was made to feel like an outsider. Her pupil master greeted her with disappointment, making it clear that the candidate he had hoped for had been rejected in her favour. Others were equally unwelcoming. “They all made it clear they were distinctly unimpressed with my education,” she recalls. In a chamber dominated by Oxbridge graduates, she was reminded—sometimes bluntly—that she did not fit the mold.

Even the head of chambers at the time, Richard Bramwell QC, told her flatly that she was wasting her time. “He also told me women could not be successful at the Bar,” she says, a memory that still sharpens her voice.

The professional hostility coincided with personal turmoil. Her father fell into a coma following complications from heart surgery, and she carried the burden of supporting her younger sister’s wedding while spending hours at his hospital bedside. At home, she faced additional strain from her partner’s recent divorce and the hostility of his ex-wife, also a barrister, who disparaged Murray’s ambitions at every opportunity. “Honestly, at that point the life and career I thought was meant for me felt out of reach,” she confesses.

A Turning Point

It was under this storm of pressure that Murray was handed what seemed like a professional death sentence: her first case. A colleague, convinced the client’s matter was hopeless, passed it to her as a kind of public trap—an opportunity for the pupil to fail spectacularly.

But Murray saw it differently. “I realised it was my only real opportunity to prove they had underestimated me.”

The case involved a taxpayer, Mr. Evans, who faced losing his home over disputed administrative payments made to his wife. The evidence against him seemed overwhelming, bolstered by witness testimony and an imposing stack of records. Yet Murray’s instincts guided her deeper into the details. During cross-examination, she uncovered a critical weakness: the key witness himself had barely been present at the hearings he was testifying about. Exposing this flaw turned the tide of the case.

Against the odds, she won. The Evans family kept their home, and Murray had announced herself as a force to be reckoned with. “It was a true test of self-belief in the face of adversity,” she reflects. “I learnt to follow my instincts and that we are all surrounded by prejudice, toxicity, spin, and just plain lies. You have to have your own moral compass.”

Her victory was more than just a legal success—it was vindication. Despite the hostility, the relentless workload, and the absence of encouragement, she secured tenancy in 2010. Soon after, she was on the winning side of landmark cases like Tower MCashback v HMRC and Eclipse Film Partners LLP v HMRC, silencing doubters and placing her name among the profession’s rising stars.

Chambers’ astonishment at her early triumphs was, in her eyes, the sweetest validation. She had not only survived the poisoned chalice but transformed it into the foundation of her career.

Landmark Battles in the Courtroom

As Murray’s practice grew, so too did the complexity and stakes of the cases that landed on her desk. From private client disputes to corporate tax battles, her caseload quickly spanned the breadth of the tax world. What defined her approach was not just legal acumen but an unyielding commitment to preparation and clarity. “Three things are critical,” she explains. “Preparation—you can’t be over prepared. Reading the room—knowing when to abandon a strategy. And keeping a cool head for your client and the court.”

This philosophy came to life case after case. In Moran v HMRC [2025] UKFTT 540, she discredited the evidence of multiple witnesses by trusting her instincts in real time, abandoning her planned cross-examination and exposing inconsistencies on the spot. In Trachtenburg v HMRC, a case with far-reaching implications on pension scheme charges, the Upper Tribunal judges began by telling her they had fully digested her skeleton argument and only wanted to hear additional points. “There were two possible explanations,” she says wryly. “Either my skeleton was so clear it had done the job—or the exact opposite. I took a cautious view and simplified my submissions to make absolutely sure my points landed.”

Her ability to adapt, to cut through legal fog and home in on what truly mattered, became her hallmark. Judges began citing her evidence in their decisions; her submissions shaped outcomes in cases that mattered not only to individual clients but to the development of tax law itself.

A Moment in the Supreme Court

No single moment captures Murray’s courtroom influence better than her role in Eclipse Film Partners (No 35) LLP v HMRC, a case worth billions and watched across the industry. Acting for HMRC from the First-tier Tribunal upwards, she drafted pleadings that cut directly to the heart of the matter.

“There was a particularly important paragraph,” she recalls, “which responded to case law our opponents were relying on. My leader’s view was that we shouldn’t engage with it at all, but I believed we needed to.” In the end, she reduced her analysis to a single page—bullet points clarifying each case and its application.

When the matter reached the Supreme Court, that page became decisive. Lord Neuberger himself put her paragraph to the opponents during oral submissions. It was the reason permission to appeal was refused. For Murray, it was a vindication not only of her legal judgment but of her belief in the power of precision. “That one page won us the day,” she says simply.

Building a Reputation

From Tower MCashback to Beresford to Bell v HMRC, Murray established herself as a barrister who could handle the most intricate statutory interpretation while never losing sight of the bigger picture. She developed a reputation for writing in a style judges valued—short, sharp sentences; statutory analysis laid out like equations; submissions focused on principles, not unnecessary detail.

Her reputation reached beyond clients and colleagues to the Attorney General’s A Panel, where she is now regularly instructed in high-value, complex cases. Nearly always against silks, she relishes the challenge. “It means I am influencing the development of the law and policy,” she says, “and that is both challenging and rewarding.”

While her victories in the courtroom established her credibility, Murray’s influence extends far beyond litigation. She is the author of authoritative texts including Tax Avoidance, a work widely respected across the profession, and her contributions to technical publications have shaped thinking in areas as diverse as private equity, VAT, and corporate taxation.

For her, writing is not an indulgence but a discipline. “It is important for me to step back from my immediate client demands and improve my own knowledge for the sake of it,” she explains. Her first book, Corporation Tax, was written during her time at JP Morgan, not because she had to, but because she wanted to sharpen her own expertise. “I wanted to make sure I had all the answers at the forefront of my mind going into meetings on time-sensitive transactions,” she recalls. That impulse—to learn deeply and share widely—has stayed with her throughout her career.

Thought Leadership in a Digital Age

In recent years, Murray has also become a prominent voice on LinkedIn, where her articles and posts often spark thoughtful debate among her peers. At a time when many professionals shy away from technical content, fearing that the platform’s algorithm won’t reward it, she has chosen a different path. “I’ve bucked that trend,” she says. “Our network does read and react to technical content, and I hope I’ve encouraged others to raise the standard of debate.”

Her commitment to thought leadership is not just about visibility; it is about raising the collective level of discourse. She sees the internet as a shared space for knowledge exchange, where professionals can learn from each other and push the boundaries of understanding in their field.

The Attorney General’s B Panel

Recognition of her expertise came with her appointment to the Attorney General’s B Panel, a role that places her at the forefront of shaping public-sector tax disputes. It is work that regularly pits her against silks in cases of enormous complexity and value work which has now seen her appointed to the Attorney General’s A Panel. Far from being daunted, Murray thrives in this environment. “It means I am influencing the development of the law and policy,” she notes, “and that is both challenging and rewarding.”

In many ways, the role epitomises her career: a combination of meticulous preparation, intellectual courage, and a determination to push beyond barriers.

A Commitment to Justice Beyond Fees

For all her high-profile clients and complex cases, Murray has never lost sight of those who cannot afford representation. Recognised as “Pro Bono Junior of the Year,” she has dedicated a substantial part of her career to ensuring that justice is not reserved for the wealthy.

“I see many flaws in the justice system, the inherent unfairness. I feel a need to give back, whether through advocacy, technical training, or implementing systems that make a difference.”

Her pro bono work has often centred on cases involving critical points of principle—moments where the law itself needed to be tested, clarified, or challenged. One such moment came in the case of broadcaster Kaye Adams, whom Murray represented just two weeks before a pivotal hearing. Convinced Adams was self-employed rather than the hypothetical employee HMRC alleged, Murray rallied her then pupil, unearthed new evidence, and reshaped the narrative in court. The result was a victory that ultimately stood the test of years of litigation.

Fighting for the Underserved

Her commitment has extended to individuals like Mr. Donaldson, a man fined £900 for failing to file a blank return, despite being illiterate and owing no tax. The case exemplified the rigidity of an automated system that had stripped away human oversight. Though the odds were stacked against him, Murray fought vigorously, even securing permission in the Court of Appeal to argue points not raised in the tribunal—a move that visibly rattled her opponent.

In another case, she represented Mrs. Arthur, a German Ghanaian single mother facing repayment of child tax credits. What seemed hopeless became winnable when Murray identified a fresh legal angle and gave her client the confidence to testify. “I come from a single parent family myself,” she reflects. “Her story resonated with me.”

Perhaps most notably, she played a key role in Shaw & Rogers v HMRC, a case with implications for some ten million taxpayers. Selected by the Upper Tribunal to represent the respondents pro bono, she argued against automated penalty notices issued without a human officer’s involvement. Although HMRC ultimately changed the law to legitimize automation retrospectively, Murray’s advocacy forced the issue into public view, highlighting systemic flaws that might otherwise have remained hidden.

Building a Culture of Giving Back

Her commitment goes beyond individual cases. As Secretary of the Revenue Bar Association, she worked with tribunal judges to establish a system ensuring that litigants in person with important legal points could be matched with pro bono counsel. She extended the initiative to tax charities such as Bridge the Gap, where she also serves as an ambassador. Since the pandemic began, her efforts have helped raise nearly £90,000 for the charity through webinars and campaigns.

“I have generally picked cases which involve an important point of principle, and occasionally where it looks like the right answer to me but the client has not received the support they need because they can’t finance it,” she says.

It is a philosophy that underscores her entire career: the law, at its best, must serve not just the powerful but everyone who needs it.

Guiding the Next Generation

With years of technical mastery behind her, Murray has become a natural mentor within Devereux Chambers. Junior barristers often seek her guidance, not only for her deep knowledge of tax law but for the clarity with which she approaches complex problems. “I usually take them through the legislation and discuss the points with them,” she says. Her style is less about giving ready-made answers and more about helping younger barristers develop the tools to find their own.

Her mentorship is not confined to technical training. Having fought through isolation and prejudice early in her career, she understands the emotional resilience the Bar demands. By opening up about her own struggles, she offers something equally important to juniors: reassurance that challenges can be overcome without losing one’s integrity.

The Gender Gap That Persists

For all her success, Murray is outspoken about the stark gender imbalance in her profession. Less than 20 percent of silks at the tax Bar are women, and the imbalance is not just in numbers but in the quality of cases assigned. “It is the same senior white males doing the high-paid appeals,” she notes with visible frustration.

She dismisses superficial metrics of progress. “It irritates me when people cite the fact that there are now more female pupils than male ones. At the rate the Bar loses women in their 30s, we’d need 75 percent women at the pupillage stage to even approach equality in twenty-five years,”  she says.

For Murray, the structural barriers are clear: an inherently hierarchical, patriarchal profession that still sidelines women, particularly those balancing motherhood and practice. “I always felt it was one or the other—career or children. Both weren’t possible.”

Calling for Systemic Change

Murray’s vision for reform is unapologetically bold. She believes regulatory bodies must step in to address the inequities in how work is allocated. “Our regulator, the Bar Standards Board, should work with the Solicitors Regulation Authority and the professional institutes of tax to develop a system where a number of advocates are at least considered for cases. That would make the market think about why they are instructing particular counsel and be accountable.”

Equally pressing, she argues, is the way complaints of bullying and harassment are handled. “There needs to be a drastic improvement,” she insists, noting that she has already spoken publicly and directly to regulators about these issues. For Murray, it is not enough to succeed individually; systemic prejudice must be dismantled for the profession to thrive.

A Legacy Still in the Making

Looking back, Murray could easily rest on her achievements: landmark victories in the highest courts, a respected voice in thought leadership, and recognition as one of the leading tax barristers of her generation. Yet she is not content with personal accolades alone. Her vision reaches further, towards a legal system that is fairer, more inclusive, and more accountable.

“I would like to see equality in my lifetime,” she says with characteristic candour. “Not token gestures, but genuine structural change.” For her, that means holding regulators and institutions accountable for who gets instructed, why they get instructed, and how complaints of misconduct are addressed. It means designing a Bar that women can not only enter but remain in—without being forced to choose between career and family.

Her words are sharpened by experience but softened by hope. She does not shy away from describing the Bar as patriarchal, hierarchical, even misogynistic. Yet she also believes in the possibility of transformation. She envisions a system where barristers are selected for their skill, not their networks; where diversity is not a slogan but a lived reality; where fairness is woven into the very fabric of the profession.

The Compass That Guides

If one theme runs through Murray’s journey, it is instinct. Again and again, she has chosen the uncertain path—the smaller firm over the Big Five, the Bar over corporate stability, the “hopeless” case that others tried to pass off as her downfall. Each time, her instincts have carried her forward, reminding her that resilience is as important as brilliance.

“You have to have your own moral compass,” she reflects. “Because we are all surrounded by prejudice, toxicity, spin, and just plain lies.”

For those who follow her, especially young women entering the Bar, her message is simple but profound: success is possible, but it requires knowing, deep down, that you belong.