Just ask the judges who were on the bench of the ACT Supreme Court in 2009.

Mr Heydon, a High Court judge at the time, was not impressed by delays in the territory's justice system, and he made his feelings known.

"A party which has a duty to assist the court in achieving certain objectives fails to do so. A court which has a duty to achieve those objectives does not achieve them," he remarked.

Then came the killer blow: "The torpid languor of one hand washes the drowsy procrastination of the other."

Mr Heydon was a man so powerful his comments reduced the ACT courts to a national laughing stock. Some lawyers even immortalised his words on specially made coffee cups and T-shirts.

So, knowing he was not afraid to give fellow judges an almighty serve, put yourself in the shoes of a 20-something lawyer starting her career as a judge's associate; a role not dissimilar to a personal assistant.

Imagine what goes through her mind as she considers making a sexual harassment complaint against him.

Accusing a senior figure is hard in any professional environment, never mind when your workplace is the highest court in the land, the person harassing you is considered a once-in-generation legal mind, and you're at the bottom of the food chain.

For years, even after Mr Heydon retired from the court, six women who were in this position felt unable to formally report the sexual harassment they suffered at his hands.

But as we now know, they eventually did.

And after a former inspector-general of intelligence and security substantiated the women's claims in an independent inquiry, High Court Chief Justice Susan Kiefel opened the door to what shapes as the start of the legal profession's #MeToo moment.

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Firstly, she brought the issue out into the open and made it public knowledge.

That is crucial, according to senior legal figures like ACT Law Society president Chris Donohue, who abhors what he believes is a culture of secrecy that has allowed perpetrators of sexual harassment to thrive in the profession.

After all, how do you go about fixing a problem if you don't shine a light on it?

"The culture of silence is probably the most insidious of all," Mr Donohue says.

Also crucial is the language Chief Justice Kiefel adopted in revealing the findings about Mr Heydon to the world.

Not content to merely condemn sexual harassment and explain what the court was doing to prevent a repeat, she offered candid comments.

"We're ashamed that this could have happened at the High Court of Australia," she said.

"We have made a sincere apology to the six women whose complaints were borne out. We know it would have been difficult to come forward."

And most importantly: "Their accounts of their experiences at the time have been believed."

Mr Heydon rejects the findings, his lawyers say, as well as any other allegations of predatory behaviour or sexual misconduct.

There have been plenty of those in recent days, including from prominent Canberrans Noor Blumer and Elizabeth Lee.

Ms Blumer has accused Mr Heydon of groping her and attempting to kiss her against her will at the University of Canberra when she was the ACT Law Society president.

Ms Lee, an ACT politician who lectured in law, says Mr Heydon sexually harassed her at the same event in 2013.

Regardless of whether Mr Heydon eventually faces action beyond the destruction of his reputation - three of the former associates are planning lawsuits and police have been asked to investigate criminal charges - one thing has been made crystal clear.

The nation's highest court now says that if you have an issue to report, however junior you may be, your voice matters and you should be heard.

That cannot be underestimated, especially in an industry that holds precedents so dear.

The legal profession is not unique in having issues with widespread sexual harassment, but there is no doubt it has a serious problem.

Research from across the globe tells us that, and here in Canberra a staggering 57 per cent of respondents to a 2018 Women Lawyers Association of the ACT survey said they had been sexually harassed at work.

Few professions place such a strong importance on hierarchy and respect for those more senior, which creates an obvious issue when those who gain authority seek to abuse it.

And the power imbalance between perpetrators and victims, according to the association's president, Danielle Mildren, is one of the key factors that prevents victims speaking out.

Coming forward against someone higher up the legal ladder, she says, carries with it the very real fear of damaging your career prospects.

And when speaking out can come at such a personal and professional cost, many women find it easier to walk away.

"The attrition rate of women lawyers is high, and experiences of sexual harassment are a key reason why women leave the law," Law Council of Australia president Pauline Wright says.

"This is damaging and costly - for individuals, for firms, and for the current and future standing of the legal profession."

But the tide could be starting to turn.

The first women to speak out against Mr Heydon have prompted others to follow their lead.

The scandal has already sparked changes in policy at the High Court, and across the country other courts and scores of legal groups have made noises about new strategies to combat sexual harassment.

There is clearly still a long way to go before perpetrators fear being exposed more than victims fear retribution for speaking out. Only then will the issue start to feel resolved.

But it seems those in the legal profession are starting to learn what scandal after scandal taught the Hollywood heavyweights as the #MeToo movement took off: no one is beyond reproach.

And Mr Heydon, who once lined up targets and let fly with scathing commentary, is now on the other side of the equation.

Shortly after the High Court revealed the independent inquiry's conclusion, ACT Bar Association president Steven Whybrow recognised the gravity of the situation and praised the bravery of the women who had spoken out.

He also recalled Mr Heydon's famous criticism of the ACT Supreme Court: "The torpid languor of one hand washes the drowsy procrastination of the other."

Mr Whybrow's thoughts on that comment in light of the inquiry's findings?

"Pity he didn't spend a bit more effort in controlling his own hands."