I am called to jury duty this week. Apparently it's my civic obligation to pass judgement on my fellow citizens. If impaneled, I shall be forced to listen to legal blowhards bend the truth through prisms of innuendo and misinformation : two scaly advocates attempting to tip the scales of justice in their client's favor. I'm not sure that Daniel Webster would recognise this theater of cant as a court of law.
The emergence of an approximation of a scintilla of the truth is the best that can be hoped for in such circumstances. Incriminating identifications are made from the reflections of shadows cast on murky water; from fingerprints smeared on fog and jack straws of DNA. Exhibits requiring more explanation than those in any archaeological museum are presented as vital evidence, leaving weary and bewildered jurors to determine innocence or guilt by the toss of a mental coin: do we like the defendant or not? Not, probably. After all, you can't disguise congenital sullen insolence with a collar and tie.
There are roughly two hundred people in the jury pool. Fidgeting in plastic chairs, pacing back and forth, slumped against the walls, we look like immeasurably bored airport passengers waiting for delayed flights to Baltimore, Charlotte, Frankfurt and other interzone hubs. Some read books or peruse iPads and smart phones. Some just stare at the floor. I wonder if anyone else is thinking of the fate of Draco the Lawgiver: suffocated beneath an avalanche of cloaks and hats after delivering a typically enervating speech.
Occasionally the court officer, equal parts troop leader and stand-up comedian, interrupts the dolorous silence with reminders about the importance of our service. As an administrative functionary he is excellence personified, the only court house representative who inspires confidence in this belabored system. Everyone else should go home since we can trust him to act fairly and responsibly as judge, jury and social worker. Alas, not. We must sit here and wilt until a plea bargain is accepted and everyone can home, except, of course, the guilty party.
It's the only thing about my seizure disorder I appreciate. I cannot be called up for jury duty. I can thank that horse riding accident, from when I was four, every day.
Funny thing, nobody wants to see someone suddenly start twitching in the jury box, or deliberation room. Tho believe me it might be the only excitement, during the trial, you ever get.
Posted by: Giric | April 07, 2012 at 17:49
That is such a foreign concept to me as a Dutchman, a jury (although it exists in Belgium, just 20 miles away, as well). How odd to have to, as you say it, pass judgement over someone else.
I always felt it was highly questionable to leave the guilty-not guilty question to a bunch of laymen, until I read that the accuracy of establishing the truth doesn't differ much between professional judges or juries.
Posted by: Laurent | April 08, 2012 at 04:11
I love democracy in this country, if you refuse to do jury duty, without a good enough reason, they will arrest you as a criminal.
Posted by: Giric | April 09, 2012 at 13:49
"two scaly advocates", heh.
Posted by: Austen | April 11, 2012 at 00:22
I loved to be on the jury. The first day.
After a week of squabbling, trying to get through fecal matter that passes for brains in some jurors' heads, listening to same tapes over and over again, seeing the same smirking perp day after day and his victims - who were violated again, time after time, by being poked with painful questions on the stand - I started hating it. Add to the fact that there were two lawyers on the jury (as members of the public], who muddied the waters as much as they could - and realization that I am losing a week's pay - well, you should be grateful you only lost a few hours of your life.
At least I was satisfied that the guy was given a jail sentence.
Posted by: Tatyana | April 12, 2012 at 20:18
Giric, hence the word "duty" next to 'jury". D'oh.
Posted by: Tatyana | April 12, 2012 at 20:20
Thanks Tat for the gentle reminder. A branch of my family came to this country round about 1620 and just for a moment I forgot how meaner it was back in the day. At least we don't drown witches anymore, do we?!
Posted by: Giric | April 16, 2012 at 13:37
I hear, in 1620 they didn't want Freedom For All, they wanted Freedom For Their Own To Do and Believe What They Wish. The "abused" syndrome": as soon as they flee the abuser, they imitate him in their dealings with "the other".
So in this regard, yeah, a tedious jury duty is a small price to pay to get [relatively] equal treatment for all under the Law.
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