After 45 years living in the same town, I finally got the call for jury duty. I’ve been hoping to get one for a long time; SC law has a provision that teachers can have their assigned week changed to one in the summer, when it wouldn’t intrude on their jobs. So I’ve wanted for a long time to get the experience.
I was seated on a criminal case, and the judge appointed me foreman. I was a little nervous about that, since I’d never been on a jury before, but another jury member had been a foreman on a case earlier that week, and I asked him to let me know if I was doing anything stupid.
It was a difficult case. It involved a sex crime (I’m going to try to avoid giving identifying details), and since in sex crimes there are often no witnesses but the victim and the perpetrator, it usually comes down to which person you believe. So you look for some indication that one or the other person might be lying. If there aren’t any such indications, what do you do? Some on the jury said that they believed the victim, and that was enough for them. Guilty. Others said that they believed the victim too, but they weren’t prepared to send the defendant off to jail without better evidence than one person’s accusation—beyond reasonable doubt, and all that. Not guilty.
So there we were. Highly emotional case, strong feelings, opposing views.
What did we do?
This jury was highly diverse on every possible axis. Different races, sexes, ages, levels of education, employment statuses, economic statuses, levels of religiosity. Every reason to go nuclear.
But we didn’t. Everyone gave his opinion and the reasons for it; everyone else listened quietly and respectfully. We laid out the bases of disagreement objectively and calmly, with no harsh language and no rolling of the eyes or other visible signs of disrespect. We shared the same frustration over the evidence that we knew was being withheld from us. When someone stepped into the bathroom—during which policy requires that deliberation stop—we sat back and talked jovially and actively, without any awkward silences, and we didn’t choose to talk just with people we agreed with.
It was awesome.
And this at a time when the country is allegedly more polarized, and angry about it, than ever. You know it’s true; the comment threads on political websites prove it.
Don’t they?
Well, let’s do a little math. Let’s suppose that half the population is polarized and angry. What are the odds that we’d seat a jury of 12 with no angry people? If the odds of getting 1 non-hostile person are 1 in 2, then the odds of getting 12 in a row are 1 in 212, or 1 in 4096. But if only 1 in 10 Americans is angry, the odds of getting that jury increase to better than 1 in 4.
So you know what I think? I think the rage that dominates the daily news cycle is overblown. I think that our fellow citizens are better than that. I think the comment threads and Facebook newsfeeds attract the angries the way a porch light attracts bugs. If you spend a lot of time there, you’re going to think the society is in much worse shape than it really is.
If I had no other reasons to be proud of my country and its people—and I have plenty—the 2 days I spent with my fellow jury members would be reason enough.
God bless them all.
Rachel Larson says
Absolutely true. I am SO THANKFUL you were WILLING to serve. There are so many believers including friends we both know who seek to avoid serving at all costs and try to let the judge and lawyers know they hold views to prevent being picked. I found the people on most of my juries reasonable and people who believed they needed to serve because trial by jury is a dearly held right. When I have heard or read negative comments, I pray that if someday — I am or other Christians are in court for something — I will have reasonable people and maybe even a believer or two on the jury. We are called upon to administer justice and punishments the law prescribes for the cases on which we serve. They don’t all involve capital punishment or DUIs on which some people say unnecessary things to purposefully become disqualified. And I’m thankful you got Africa in before this came up! Good opportunity to meet people in the community we’d meet in no other way.
Dan Olinger says
Thanks, Rachel! I know you’re right, because you agree with me. :-)
Rick Barry says
I’m still waiting for my chance to serve on a jury. The only time I got called in, the judge asked a few questions, and I had to raise my hand. Yes, I DID know the detective in the case. “He’s my next-door neighbor.”
Judge: “Thank you. You’re excused.”
So, I’m still waiting. And not angrily, either!
Dan Olinger says
Good call. :-) I expected to be excused, frankly; I was excused from an earlier opportunity. But I was glad to get the chance.
Betty Jeanne Nooth says
I love this! I was finally able to serve on a jury of 12 on a case in Plymouth County, MA. We were able to work through our issues, too, very logically, in sharing our initial impressions, our concerns, with careful listening of everyone, also a diverse group of age and experience. Not a huge deal, but a drunk driving case that was clearly prejudiced by collusion among the arresting officers on a busy Saturday night. The video evidence, the defendant’s testimony clearly showed a diabetic, Vietnam veteran with established social habits whose main concern was having his blood sugar checked after allegedly side-swiping a car in the next lane. He was not any different on the stand than he was in the video in the police station where he was allegedly “reeking of alcohol.” Other facts clearly established his innocence of the charge…the beauty of the experience was that we were easily able to come to a consensus through respectful discussion. The foreman, chosen by draw, was superb in managing the process, but it was not difficult…we were finished in time to get lunch on our own the second day. I was happy to be able to express my indecision to allow a younger juror with issues around alcoholism to examine her prejudices enough to consider the evidence. The defendant was a man with an injury that prevented him from by passing a sobriety test but the evidence and his testimony showed us his sobriety. Another Saturday night in Plymouth in the summer. I was so proud of the work we did on this two-day trial. This was a few years back before the current political climate; however, respect and listening to each other brought us to the right conclusion n a short amount of time.
Clayton says
I think a lot of people are more likely to act disrespectful, offensive, etc. When there are no repercussions for their actions. Anyone can be a confrontational tough guy anonymously the internet.
Dan Olinger says
… and behind the wheel.
Jim says
I have had the privilege (and it was a privilege) to serve on several juries and always thought that my fellow jurists were level headed citizens. The most interesting was in Federal Court in Anderson where a young man stood accused of planting a listening device in his girlfriend’s bedroom. A big no-no. After most of the evidence was presented but before we began deliberations, he decided to plead guilty after seeing his how the evidence was stacking up against him. Justice was served, only not by the jury but it was a very enlightening experience.
Nancy Lohr says
I get called every 15-18 months to our local suummary court, which is frequent enough for the judge to nod in recognition and thank me for coming again. I’ve been seated a couple of times, and find the process both fascinating and as just you described. We were citizens trying to weigh fairly what we had learned, wishing for some information we had not learned, yet coming to a unanimous and gracious decision. I’m grateful that my employer doesn’t simply allow my participation but encourages me to participate well. Thanks for this post.
Amos says
There is something about coming together to do a job for a larger purpose that does amazing things to people. When we planned and executed rallies in support of Israel several years ago, the people who participated disagreed with each other about many things. It was a beautiful thing to watch everyone set those disagreements aside, because they had nothing to do with the important matter at hand.
John Cofer says
Great share. I had a similar experience when I was called for jury duty for the first time (and only time so far) at the age of 39. As with your observations, the jury I was assigned to was diverse and clearly held political and religious views opposite my own. However, it was interesting how the judge focused our thoughts and energies to a single task and the applicable laws. We worked together on a difficult job while kindly and respectfully listening to each other.
Here was my Facebook post the following day:
Late last night, I completed one of the most difficult tasks ever presented to me. I was a juror on a sexual abuse case of a child. As you can imagine, the trial was extremely difficult and the jury deliberation was equally stressful. The amount of information to absorb in a three day trial, the burden of proof, the presumed innocence of the accused, the families involved, the nature of the subject, the long-term effects on multiple adults and kids, the severe penalties at stake, separating truth from lies, separating truth from somewhat true–it was mentally excruciating. Yes, the defendant was found guilty.
I’m not sure why God allowed this for me. I do hope I can use this to help dispel misconceptions about our judicial process. Just like voting: more God-fearing, Christ-loving, Scripture-believing people need to be willing to assist in this area. When the charges were read to the jury pool, many of us, including myself, did not want to participate. But now I am convinced: trying to figure out a way to be dismissed from jury duty is not doing our best in the situation in which God has placed us.
Joel Arnold says
Blogging has taught me some very odd lessons that fall into line with what you’ve said. First, you get heated responses to the most random posts. The one you expect people to react to gets nothing; the one that seems like it says nothing controversial gets blown to bits by someone who was set off by a random clause you inserted as a joke.
And then the interesting part. The same person who is incensed and tossing verbal grenades into your comment feed will get all nice and human again if you give them a polite phone call. It’s weird. Really weird. This has happened to me several times and followed that narrative each time.
So I wonder if that might not be a part of the factor as well. Something about the (illusion of) anonymity in comment feeds and the fact that you don’t see faces or hear voices puts us at our worst. This would be a good reason to never let people telecommute for jury duty.
Thanks for the thoughts. Looking forward to more posts.
Denise Fabian says
I spent two months serving on our county’s grand jury this year. Met every day reviewing over 800 felonies. Between the law enforcement presenting the cases, the assistant prosecutors who presided over the grand jury, and my wonderful co-jurors…I have never been so proud of my city, county, and country!