It seems almost surreal, as I sit to write this piece, that upon publication, we will be days away from having a new government. It may be the same government with new personnel, emboldened by an electoral miracle and armed with a mandate of more of the same, or it might be a new government, full of new ministers and fresh ideas for the problems that have bubbled and brewed and blistered in recent years. Perhaps it may even be a coalition, forcing collaboration and compromise across our divided and polarised parliament.

Whatever the outcome of the election, there are several fundamental issues that are now generally accepted as truisms across the political divide. The first is that the justice system is in crisis. You could reasonably argue that every public service is in crisis (there is no shortage of evidence to make the case). In justice, that evidence is ubiquitous: the physical estate is crumbling; delays to civil and criminal trials are, well, criminal; legal aid practitioners are exhausted and the workforce is gradually eroding; client access across the country is patchy at best and non-existent at worst; the prisons are swollen and self-harm and violence are rife. The only thing holding together any semblance of order is the dedication and commitment of the lawyers, support staff and civil servants who refuse to be broken by years – decades even – of political contempt and mismanagement.

The second is that the justice system has been knocked about for decades because it just doesn’t register on the doorstep. When activists and would-be MPs knock on doors, very few potential voters bemoan the closure of their local court. If they have an experience of the justice system, it is usually negative or clouded by stigma. And if the element of the justice system with which you’re concerned is whether those lawyers-types are getting paid properly for doing what is a really difficult job, then forget about it.

Political inaction, if that is what we want to euphemistically call the steady dismantlement of the justice system, is almost inevitable when an issue doesn’t register with voters or when they have been methodically fed a diet of misinformation and negative press. That is one of the most pervasive features of recent governments: an open hostility towards a system that should underpin fairness in society. A system mercilessly assailed lest it be allowed to fulfil its role and hold power to account. And there is no shortage of editors and journalists willing to write that lawyers are fat cats or lefty activists (or both), that offenders and migrants don’t deserve basic legal rights, and that judges are enemies of the people.

But despite those uncomfortable truths, since you are reading this piece, you know all the symptoms of the ailing system. You are probably taking a break from try to stem the bleeding in your local Law Centre, firm or chambers, and at some stage in recent weeks the election campaign has probably revitalised something you haven’t dared to have for some time: hope. Hope that a new government will recognise that instant action is required to fix this broken system of ours. Maybe it will be a government led by a former human rights lawyer? Maybe the new government – if it is a new government – will sit down, look at its electoral inheritance and nudge justice up the policy pecking order slightly? Put justice and fairness ahead of the expensive performative cruelty that has dogged and debased politics in recent years?

Thus far, the election campaign has demonstrated the point I have made above: the plight of the justice system has barely registered, with even prisons and policing lagging well behind the packed and jostling peloton of borders, healthcare, education and the economy. Unsurprisingly, the main parties’ manifestos therefore make very few pledges about justice. There are some interesting takes on justice-adjacent issues where access to advice could make a real difference: domestic abuse, inquests, housing, education and special educational needs, for example. The parties are falling over each other to tell us how we will feel safer with more bobbies on the beat and why more people need to be punished, without any of them really wanting to address the root causes of offending and how to tackle reoffending.

The Liberal Democrats’ manifesto arguably has the most promising take on access to justice. They have promised to create a new right to legal assistance, and to shore up legal aid to expand access to immigration advice and tackle backlogs in the criminal and family courts. But as the Lib Dems aren’t subject to the same scrutiny on spending plans as Labour, it’s not surprising that their offering appears more generous. Overall, however, you can count on one hand the number of times legal aid gets a mention across the Labour, Conservative, Lib Dem, Green and Reform manifestos.

So, come 5 July (or maybe the 8th, as we all need a weekend now and then), the work begins again to make the argument for a properly funded, accessible legal aid system. The paucity of attention given to the justice system in party manifestos means we need to elbow ourselves to the front of what will be a very long queue. Much of that work has already been done. The many robust contributions from the sector to the Review of Civil Legal Aid has ensured that the Ministry of Justice already has a blueprint for reform. The All-Party Parliamentary Group on Access to Justice has built strong alliances across party lines and will be front and centre at the autumn party conferences. The efforts of academics, policy specialists and strategic litigators are all coalescing around cogent arguments for investment in justice.

This election might be won by the party that promises the least but has the competence to deliver the most. Given our experiences in the justice sector over recent years, that alone should give us reason for optimism. Even hope.