Estimated reading time: 3 minutes
Jury of your pear-shaped objects¶
On the inquest it was shown that Buck Fanshaw, in the delirium of a wasting typhoid fever, had taken arsenic, shot himself through the body, cut his throat, and jumped out of a four-story window and broken his neck–and after due deliberation, the jury, sad and tearful, but with intelligence unblinded by its sorrow, brought in a verdict of death “by the visitation of God.” What could the world do without juries?”
—Roughing It, Mark Twain
In a time before The Light I performed jury duty. It was both somehow fulfilling and ultimately quite alarming in probably equal measures.
Cambridge Crown Court [Wikipedia]¶
It all started with a nondescript envelope, which as you open instils a great sense of fear as it reads “SUMMONS” above the fold. Shock aside and I was proud to receive my summons in the post. It afforded me an opportunity to rant about important civic duty to those I needed to inform of my impending schedule changes.
Warm up act¶
I performed my jury duty at Cambridge Crown Court, a building which is visually tantalizing from the outside and utterly unfulfilling from within. If anything, a visit ruins it.
On arriving you’re searched for things. What “things” I’m not sure, because as a cyclist who arrived with a bag containing an assortment of tools and other strange objects nothing at all was queried.
Having found the jury room and picked a table of intriguing people to join, we sat around and waited for the court manager to appear. Following a well rehearsed — and I must say, well delivered — speech we were told we could go home for the day once we had watched an intake video.
Day two began much the same way, albeit at a different table this time. Hopefully, more interesting people this time. I could do without seeing photos of a stranger’s cat for the rest of my life.
Within half an hour a bunch of us were marched off to a court, eyed over, and most of us were rejected back to the jury room. Apparently this goes on an awful lot.
Eventually I was Tinder-swiped in to the right courtroom, and found myself sitting on a jury.
Hopelessness¶
You realise early on that the outcome is going to be almost entirely based on prejudices, and not on facts. It is sad, but very true. In the waiting room you can hear people talking about their case’s defendants and witnesses, and their perceived trustworthiness; much of which can be summed up in a “looks like something from an episode of Jeremy Kyle.”
To be fair I probably agree. Frankly, if the best character witness a defence can drag up turns up to court dressed like they’ve just surfaced from a duvet-day-turned-week, then it probably does speak to their client’s character.
Dramatic drama¶
Both lawyers were extremely convincing orators, I found myself edging from guilty to non-guilty with almost every turn. We were also treated to a charming judge, who occasionally interjected to explain the games the lawyers may have been trying to play on us.
It finally made it obvious to me why certain politicians with legal backgrounds can be so convincing, their profession literally required it of them. When all you have is your words and eyebrow raises to convince a jury, then out of necessity you’ll develop the ability to use them well.
In summation¶
Simple. If you ever have to appear in court yourself, comb your hair and dress well… you know, like you would imagine people would anyway.
Seriously though, what I learnt was that you really want to hire the best team you possibly can. The incredibly affable, intelligent and at times funny legal team on one side were a marvel to watch. They were capable of captivating the whole jury with their just-plausible-enough-to-be-believable stories, I’d happily pay to watch them in theatre.
All of that aside, if you get the chance to serve, I implore you not to try to wiggle out of it. I may have made light of it a little here, but it is an important duty that our legal system requires of us. And, it may be a little fun too!
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Social sway¶
Finally, the judge sums up the case. Explains the finer points we’re to actually consider, and sends us off to the room we’re not allowed to talk about. All I’ll say is the following paragraph…
I’m not easily swayed by peer pressure, but experience has taught me how to spot those that are. And you could see how easy they would sway to gain social acceptance, even with people they’d probably never see again. In many ways it was truly scary, I was genuinely naïve enough to believe I’d experience selfless disinterested deliberation. It was nothing of the sort.
We eventually handed back a not-guilty verdict, and thanks to the court’s schedule that was the end of my service. All in all, and after planning to be away for the suggested two weeks, it only took up three days over the course of a week.