Hung Jury

Some people try to get out of jury duty by lying. You don't have to lie. Tell the judge the truth. Tell him you'd make a terrific juror because you can spot guilty people. Just like that.
George Carlin

When you go into court you are putting your fate into the hands of twelve people who weren't smart enough to get out of jury duty.
Norm Crosby

The questionnaire came in the mail and I did not really pay attention so threw it away.

Then came another questionnaire with dire warnings regarding my personal health and that of my immediate family members if I did not respond.

The dreaded juror questionnaire.

The questions were relatively straightforward. Name, education, employment status, favorite television streaming shows.

It was only a matter of time before my jury summons arrived in the mail saying “you must be available to serve for the entirety of at least your initial service week; and be aware that you may serve on a trial that extends through your remaining years on this Earth.”

I know, you are thinking “hey, you’re retired so you probably have nothing to do anyway,” but those of us retirees know that we are busier than ever doing things we actually want to do (all of which escape me now that senility has crept in).

The Magna Carta in 1215 first guaranteed trial “by the lawful judgment of [one’s] peers,” without realizing that those peers would rather have root canal than serve on a jury.

In America in 1623, Pilgrim colony officials decreed “that all criminal facts, and also matters of trespasse and debts betweene man and man should be tried by the verdict of twelve honest men to be impanelled by authority in forme of a jury upon their oath.”

A decree was made official in the 1600’s by misspelling some words and randomly adding an “e” to the end of other words.

So then, after more than 400 years of U.S. jury trials playing a crucial role in the operation of our democracy, why does everybody dread jury duty as much as a request from Elon to email him all that you accomplished last week?

And the excuses!

In the Robert Menendez trial, besides the usual excuses, one potential juror raised safety concerns since he had a fear of the Saudi Arabian government even though Saudi Arabia was not connected to the trial, another objected since he had an extreme fear of heights and could not deliberate in the courtroom on the 23rd floor, and a third was convinced that the bailiff was the murderous android from The Terminator II (gotta admit, I see the resemblance).

Oddly enough, there are some who want nothing more than to serve on a jury and actually pay for the experience (where were they when I received my summons?!).

They examine evidence, review video testimony and deliberate as part of an “immersive theater production” all of which is for fun, not part of a real proceeding, and shows that some people do lead lives even more lame than mine.

Even the true-crime drama loving should be able to come up with a better idea for a night out; as one participant joked “What’s next? You and your date get tax audited just to see what it’s like?”

Maybe these true-crime groupies need to start an “Only Murders in the Building” podcast but, sadly, not every building is lucky enough to have an endless string of murders to solve right across the hall.

Funny thing is, the deep state actually made jury service more user-friendly than expected.

I had plans the week of my original jury summons and was able to easily re-schedule.

Actual jury service was like office work during COVID. All virtual; you pretend you are doing something but really are doom scrolling on the internet.

I called in Friday evening for Monday and was told “There is no jury call for Monday. Jurors 5,000 to 5,225 must call Monday evening for instructions for Tuesday.”

I was Juror 5,040. I figured I would definitely be required on Tuesday.

But on Tuesday and each day thereafter when I called in I was told there was no jury call the next day until eventually I had finished my jury service.

I almost felt gipped. I was expecting to catch up on my reading and get to make witty observations behind the backs of my fellow jurors that I could use in this newsletter.

I would be Churchillian (sounds like a lizard; why is that even a word?) and observe that “the best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter” or, in this case, juror.

I would rise to the occasion like Henry Fonda in 12 Angry Men, showing my character and mettle as I convince the other jurors of the brilliance of my arguments.

Or not.

I actually did serve on a jury trial about twenty years ago.

I was working as an attorney at a large law firm at the time and, even though lawyers were no longer exempt from jury service, lawyers were seldom selected.

One lawyer ahead of me sauntered up to the Judge in that unique combination of arrogance and cluelessness we are taught how to master in the third year of law school to say he was an attorney so should not need to serve.

The judge was old school and he dressed that guy down in front of the entire courtroom saying “ Sit down counselor! After military service, jury service is the most important civic duty of a citizen!”

I thought it best after that to remain silent.

I was picked and the trial lasted two weeks. This was in the before times of no Zoom and no internet to work from home, so each day around 5:00 p.m. when the day’s proceedings ended, I grabbed a train into the office to get my work done before straggling home late at night.

Notwithstanding the inconvenience, and not to get all Atticus Finch on you, it was a worthwhile experience. At least, it was better than root canal.

The system actually worked and fellow citizens did their best to make it happen.

We are not asked to do much as citizens except maybe vote once in a while and on occasion overthrow the Capitol.

We do not all even exercise our voting rights too well since according to the University of Florida Election Lab, turnout in the 2024 Presidential election only represented 63.9% of eligible voters and was still the second-highest percentage in the last 100 years!

So maybe that old school judge was correct.

When your jury summons arrives, doing your civic duty is not so bad and you can have your own immersive experience all at no cost (in fact, you will even get your $40 a day, plus free parking).

What a deal!

I rest my case.