Twelve Angry Men

I recently had the enlightening experience of being called for Federal jury duty. The process struck me with awe at the fact that in out nation regular, average ordinary every-day run-of-the-mill people get to actually decide what is right and wrong and who is guilty or innocent, not a bunch of obtuse government lackeys. At the same time, the process disappointed me with the extent to which the system was manipulated by attorneys representing all sides in order to empanel the most insipid group of know-nothings available. I guess you can tell I didn’t get chosen to serve.

Before I continue with my tirade, I have to offer several disclaimers in case anybody who was actually selected to serve traces this back to me. I freely concede that being a stay at home mother or childless homemaker doesn’t mean you are stupid. I recognize that being a retired blue-collar worker does not imply you are ignorant or incapable of proper reasoning and that having spent your entire professional career as an administrative assistant doesn’t define you as slow-witted or subject to being manipulated by cynical, tricky lawyers. I freely concede all this and more, but I still reserve the right to assign some value to education and training and practical experience with complex analysis and the application of standards, statutes, codes, policies or processes.

This was the fourth time in my life that I was called for jury duty and I have yet to be selected. I have no recent criminal record, to speak of, am not hideously disfigured, bathe regularly, enunciate clearly, have a stable record of professional employment, have a graduate education, don’t willingly associate with most attorneys, take all my medications regularly, and don’t intermittently suffer from inappropriate verbal outbursts or uncontrollable jerking motions. I would go so far as to say that if you are innocent of the accusations or have been treated unfairly in a business deal, I am the one person you would absolutely want on your jury. On the other hand, if you are really guilty or are some sort of douche-bag, you don’t want me anywhere near the courtroom (unless you are Salma Hayek, in which case I will never find you at fault).

In this particular case, which was a civil matter involving a debt collection, there were 18 perspective jurors selected for interrogation by the judge and the attorneys involved; eight were ultimately empanelled, six jurors and two alternates. These eight individuals represented the least educated, least professionally accomplished and least knowledgeable possible aggregation of the initial 18 candidates. I am sure they were all lovely people who pay their taxes and treat animals and small children well, but I would not have wanted them passing judgment on any claim I might make under a U.S. statute. This selection would, of course, not be completely unexpected if the plaintiff’s attorney felt that they had a weak case or if the defendant’s attorney thought their client had violated the applicable statute, but they couldn’t both simultaneously be seeking the most vapid and malleable jurors, could they? Why resort to sophistry and obfuscation when the facts are on your side?

It is true that I am not an expert in civil or criminal procedure and that I don’t really understand the dynamics of the jury selection process with its myriad of preemptory and for cause challenges, and I have not examined the empirical data correlating juror demographics and jury voting behavior, so maybe I am the insipid one in this equation, but I cannot think of a single line of reasoning that dictates that the less education and professional accomplishment one has, the better able one is to draw a logical conclusion from a given set of facts. I don’t believe this line of reasoning constitutes intellectual elitism; after all, almost every one of us runs to the doctor when we have a lump on the side of our neck; we don’t ask the administrative assistant to examine it.

The loquacious Roman lawyer Cicero is quoted as postulating that “the foundation of justice is good faith”. I can’t really see where trying to exclude the people from a jury who are least likely to be baffled by bullshit is acting in good faith, but then I am gravely ambivalent about the entire expanse of issues related to an attorney’s obligation to their client versus their obligation to the abstract ideal of “justice”. On the other hand, Clarence Darrow said that “justice has nothing to do with what goes on in a courtroom; justice is what comes out of a courtroom”, so maybe I am making a big deal out of nothing and just magnifying my own petty resentment into a public policy issue; of course, that would make me a Republican, wouldn’t it?