Why 'Administrator' doesn't mean 'Lawyer' - and why that matters

When the judge asked me why I thought I could administer my mother's estate without a local legal practitioner, my response was simple:

"Well, it's in the title, isn't it? 'Administrator' - not 'Lawyerer' or 'Legaler' or even 'Legal Administrator.' It's just administration. Or 'admin'"

The courtroom went quiet. In fairness, it was already quiet - empty save for the judge, his male associate, and the opposing solicitor.

I was beamed in via Teams, and from my elevated position in London - with my 3am face, no makeup, filling the multiple widescreen TVs - I looked down on them from every direction. I felt almost omnipotent.

The judge's expression shifted. In that moment, from my vantage point presiding over them, I'd accidentally exposed something the legal profession would prefer stayed hidden: estate administration is, at its core, just administration.

Two years and counting into what should have been a three-month process, I now understand why my comment struck such a nerve.

My mother's estate was textbook simple. She left behind five liquid assets - some bank accounts and superannuation - to be divided between her two adult children. No debts, no property, no business interests, no disputes. The kind of estate that any competent office administrator could have wrapped up in a few months with nothing more than a telephone, some forms, and basic organisational skills.

My mother’s estate was textbook simple. She left behind five liquid assets - some bank accounts and superannuation - to be divided between her two adult children. No debts, no property, no business interests, no disputes.

✱It was the kind of estate that any competent office administrator could have wrapped up in a few months with nothing more than a telephone, a few forms, and basic organisational skills.✱

The process should have been straightforward. Write a letter to each of the banks, include a copy of the death certificate, complete their deceased estate forms, provide the grant of probate, collect the funds, file the tax returns, and distribute the assets.

Basic admin — the kind performed in offices and homes around the world every day.

Yet here we are, approaching two years, with two law firms having burned through tens of thousands in fees, and we’re still not done.

The first fifteen months were consumed by a law firm that held the will hostage, filed vexatious caveats, and then demanded we surrender our executor role to them. When we finally broke free through court intervention, we were forced to appoint “neutral” lawyers — a requirement the judge insisted upon because, apparently, estate administration is too complex for mere mortals not versed in the mystical arts of legal practice.

The second law firm started promisingly enough. During our initial meeting, they agreed with my practical approach to managing tax obligations and seemed to understand the straightforward nature of the task ahead.

Then, inexplicably, they pivoted. Suddenly they were echoing the same obstructionist positions as their predecessors — refusing to collect assets, disputing basic tax obligations they didn’t understand, and insisting on expensive external advisors for tasks I could perform myself.

Here’s what truly shocked me: the lawyers didn’t understand basic estate administration. They were confused about PAYG withholding requirements for foreign beneficiaries. They couldn’t grasp Australian tax obligations that any competent bookkeeper would understand. They were unable to structure simple payments efficiently and refused to obtain necessary documentation for tax compliance.

As someone with 27 years in financial services, I found myself in the surreal position of educating lawyers about their own jurisdiction’s requirements. I was teaching them basics they should have learned in their first year of practice — if, indeed, practical estate administration is taught in law school at all.

Meanwhile, the same banks that told me “fourteen days to process once we receive probate” are still waiting for the lawyers to send basic paperwork. The institutions are ready. The processes are simple. The lawyers have manufactured complexity where none exists.

The system is brilliantly designed to make you believe you need lawyers. Judges insist you need local legal practitioners. Lawyers nod sagely and confirm that estate administration is far too complex for non-lawyers.

Costs escalate because, well, complexity justifies higher fees. Time extends because more complexity means more time needed. Before you know it, you’re trapped — too deep in costs to escape, watching your mother’s modest legacy being consumed by professional fees.

For foreign executors, the situation is even worse. Your foreign status becomes a weapon of complication. Basic tasks get labelled as “complex international matters.” You’re seen as an easy mark for extended fees — someone unfamiliar with local practices who won’t know when they’re being taken for a ride.

But here’s the question that haunts me: If estate administration requires specialised legal knowledge, why do so many lawyers not understand basic administration tasks?

If only lawyers can do this work, why do they need extensive education from executors about tax requirements, banking procedures, and compliance obligations?

If the process is so complex, why is the role called “administrator”?

The truth is uncomfortable for the legal profession: most estate administration is just that — administration. It’s following procedures, filling out forms, making phone calls, and keeping good records. It’s the kind of work performed competently by office managers, bookkeepers, and personal assistants every day.

The legal profession has simply carved out this administrative function, wrapped it in mystique, and convinced the courts to grant them a monopoly.

My mother left a modest estate to her two children. Two years later, lawyers have consumed a significant portion through manufactured complexity.

The bitter irony? I could have administered this estate in three months, at virtually no cost, with better outcomes for all beneficiaries. I have the expertise, the time, and the motivation.

What I don’t have is a law degree — that magical piece of paper that somehow grants the ability to perform basic administrative tasks.

The judge didn’t appreciate my observation about the title “administrator.” The lawyers liked it even less. But the truth remains: estate administration is, for the vast majority of estates, just administration.

The tragedy is that the system is designed to make you forget this simple fact.

My mother worked hard her entire life to leave something for her children. Instead, her legacy has become a fee-generation machine for an industry that profits from complexity that doesn’t exist.

And all because we’ve forgotten what that simple word means: administrator.

Not lawyer. Just administrator.

The estate? Still waiting to be administered.

The process should have been straightforward. Write a letter to each of the banks, include a copy of the death certificate, complete their deceased estate forms, provide the grant of probate, collect the funds, file the tax returns, and distribute the assets. Basic admin - the kind performed in offices and homes around the world every day.

Yet here we are, approaching two years, with two law firms having burned through tens of thousands in fees, and we're still not done.

The first fifteen months were consumed by a law firm that held the will hostage, filed vexatious caveats, and then demanded we surrender our executor role to them. When we finally broke free through court intervention, we were forced to appoint "neutral" lawyers - a requirement the judge insisted upon because, apparently, estate administration is too complex for mere mortals who aren't versed in the mystical arts of legal practice.

The second law firm started promisingly enough. During our initial meeting, they agreed with my practical approach to managing tax obligations and seemed to understand the straightforward nature of the task ahead. Then, inexplicably, they pivoted. Suddenly, they were echoing the same obstructionist positions as their predecessors, refusing to collect assets, disputing basic tax obligations they didn't understand, and insisting on expensive external advisors for tasks I could perform myself.

Here's what truly shocked me: the lawyers didn't understand basic estate administration. They were confused about PAYG withholding requirements for foreign beneficiaries. They couldn't grasp Australian tax obligations that any competent bookkeeper would understand. They were unable to structure simple payments efficiently and refused to obtain necessary documentation for tax compliance.

As someone with twenty-seven years in financial services, I found myself in the surreal position of educating lawyers about their own jurisdiction's requirements. I was teaching them basics they should have learned in their first year of practice - if, indeed, they taught practical estate administration at all in law school, which I'm beginning to doubt.

The same banks that told me "fourteen days to process once we receive probate" are still waiting for the lawyers to send basic paperwork. The institutions are ready, the processes are simple, but the lawyers have manufactured complexity where none exists.

The system is brilliantly designed to make you believe you need lawyers. Judges insist you need local legal practitioners. Lawyers nod sagely and confirm that estate administration is far too complex for non-lawyers. Costs escalate because, well, complexity justifies higher fees. Time extends because more complexity means more time needed. Before you know it, you're trapped - too deep in costs to escape, watching your mother's modest legacy being consumed by professional fees.

For foreign executors, the situation is even worse. Your foreign status becomes a weapon of complication. Basic tasks get labelled as "complex international matters." You're seen as an easy mark for extended fees, someone unfamiliar with local practices who won't know when they're being taken for a ride.

But here's the question that haunts me: If estate administration requires specialised legal knowledge, why do so many lawyers not understand basic administration tasks? If only lawyers can do this work, why do they need extensive education from executors about tax requirements, banking procedures, and compliance obligations? If the process is so complex, why is the role called "administrator"?

The truth is uncomfortable for the legal profession. Most estate administration is just that - administration. It's following procedures, filling out forms, making phone calls, and keeping good records. It's the kind of work performed competently by office managers, bookkeepers, and personal assistants every day. The legal profession has simply carved out this administrative function, wrapped it in mystique, and convinced the courts to grant them a monopoly.

My mother left a modest estate to her two children. Two years later, lawyers have consumed a significant portion through manufactured complexity. The bitter irony? I could have administered this estate in three months, at virtually no cost, with better outcomes for all beneficiaries. I have the expertise, the time, and the motivation. What I don't have is a law degree - that magical piece of paper that somehow grants the ability to perform basic administrative tasks.

The judge didn't appreciate my observation about the title "administrator." The lawyers liked it even less. But the truth remains: estate administration is, for the vast majority of estates, just administration. The tragedy is that the system is designed to make you forget this simple fact.

My mother worked hard her entire life to leave something for her children. Instead, her legacy has become a fee-generation machine for an industry that profits from complexity that doesn't exist. And all because we've forgotten what that simple word means: administrator. Not lawyer. Just administrator.

The estate? Still waiting to be administered.

The author is a UK-based management consultant with 27 years' experience in financial services, currently serving as a foreign executor for a Western Australian estate. This article is based on personal experience and is not legal advice.

What Is an Administrator in Estate Law?

An administrator is a person or organisation appointed by a court to manage the estate of someone who has died without a will (intestate) or when executors cannot or will not act. Their duties are broadly similar to those of an executor, including:

• Collecting the assets of the deceased
• Paying debts and liabilities
• Distributing the remaining estate in accordance with the law

But here’s the key point: this is an administrative function — not a legal one.

Are Administrators Lawyers?

No. The title administrator has nothing to do with being a solicitor or barrister. An administrator might be:

• A family member or friend of the deceased
• A public trustee
• A private individual
• A professional firm (which might, or might not, have in-house lawyers)

Many professional administrators are trust companies or firms of accountants, not law firms. Even when law firms are involved, the solicitor on file might not actively supervise the day-to-day estate administration unless there is a contentious or particularly complex legal issue.

Why This Distinction Matters

Legal Advice Is Not Guaranteed

An administrator is not automatically qualified — or permitted — to give legal advice. This becomes critical when issues arise around:

• Taxation (especially international tax liabilities) - do not listen to your lawyer or solicitor, find a qualified tax accountant.
• Will disputes - solicitors like these and will try everything they can to draw the process out.
• Claims against the estate - let's go to court! try to settle without a lawyer you'll have for more success.
• Validity of debts or entitlements - not their area of expertise until it comes to arguing in Court.

If a legal issue arises and the administrator is not a qualified lawyer, they may need to instruct solicitors. If they don’t, or if they fail to recognise when to do so, mistakes can be costly — for both the estate and the beneficiaries.

If an issue at arises and the administrator is a qualified lawyer, don't be fool or led by them, always look for simpler routes with less friction and you'll be sure to avert many of the dangers and disputes.

Real-World Consequences

In the UK and Australia, disputes over estate mismanagement are increasingly common — and many stem from misunderstandings about what the administrator is (and isn’t) supposed to do. Usually by lawyers.

It’s not uncommon to see:

• Delays of months or even years in administering estates
• Administrators prioritising their own convenience or preferences
• Poor handling of tax obligations, resulting in financial loss

What Should You Do If You're a Beneficiary?

• Ask directly: Are you acting as a lawyer, or as an administrator only?
• Request updates and timelines: You’re entitled to know what’s happening and when.
• Question delays: Don't be fobbed off with “legal complexities” — ask what specifically is being done, and by whom.
• Seek independent advice: If something doesn’t seem right, trust your instincts. A short consultation with a solicitor could save months of frustration and if you suspect your solicitor is drawing things out, pick up and call the bank yourself - hiring them does not take away your right and accountability.