My jury duty experience
March 21, 2010 – 2:03 am by JohnI’d like to relate my limited experience as a potential juror and use this as a starting point for some thoughts about our criminal justice system. It might be a little anti-climactic, but it might also be worth the read. I’ll leave out a lot of specifics because it is technically illegal to give very many, and there’s no reason not to honor this government’s wish for secrecy in this case. I wasn’t selected as a juror, so I don’t know any specifics of any crimes, suspects, or charges, anyway.
Some unspecified time in my past, I received a potential-juror questionnaire that I was required to fill out and mail back to the courthouse to determine whether I was suitable to serve as a juror. I ignored it and threw it in the trash. “Fuck that, they can come and get me,” I said. It wasn’t a summons; if I didn’t return anything, what difference would it make to them? The threats of enslavement and murder were not entirely explicit, so I decided to ignore it. Then two or three months later, I got an identical letter, except I think it said “Second notice” on it or something similar, so I thought I’d better fill it out and return it. I did and received an official notice of conscription shortly thereafter.
Much to my surprise, I was being conscripted to serve in a federal district court 45 minutes away. How ridiculous, stupid, and impractical. It should be pretty widely agreed-upon, among libertarians and non-libertarians alike, that no free society would conscript innocent citizens to do anything, especially something they aren’t particularly qualified for or enthusiastic about, and especially for which they would be inconvenienced and made poorer by an hour-and-a-half commute on several dozen occasions. This was not a one- or two-day, local criminal or civil trial or anything; it was an 18-month commitment for which the jurors would be required to meet three or four Wednesdays per month every single month. That’s because this wasn’t your typical jury duty; one of the few things I do respect about this process and its requirements is the oath of confidentiality I took, but you might say this jury could be described as “great, dignified, exalted, majestic, illustrious, or eminent.” (Not that I would.)
You might be appalled at the level of situational or medical burden that jury duty must impose upon a person before he can be excused from this involuntary obligation. “Eight months pregnant? Yeah, and your point is? You live an hour and a half away and your commute would therefore be three hours every time? Cry me a river. You’re a student who has mandatory Monday-Wednesday-Friday classes? Next.” Absurd and appalling. I won’t say anything about my observations in particular, but I have heard that if you’re unable to drive and you have five adopted special-needs children for whom you are the primary caregiver, the judge and prosecutor must have a private huddle to determine that, yes, that qualifies as a legitimate excuse to preclude you from juror conscription.
I have to admit a certain admiration and almost liking of the judge who explained the whole process to us and its importance and our function in the criminal justice system. The judge spoke like someone who truly believed that a jury’s most important purpose was protecting fellow citizens against the government. S/He vehemently opposed the notion that any jury simply did the bidding of the judge and prosecutor, or that the jurors were simply an arm of the prosecutor’s office, carrying out its wishes, agreeing with it, and kowtowing to its expertise in complex matters. S/He brought this up several times and didn’t strike me as the politician-type who would say one thing and mean another.
On the other hand, s/he did not believe jurors had the right or the position to judge right vs. wrong, only the facts of the case and their relationship to the letter of the law. This was brought up only because of comments and concerns that I voiced. I felt, probably correctly, that I was alone in the room in my conscientious yet subversive objection to agreeing to submit a judgment of wrongdoing for actions I don’t believe were wrong. Maybe I can be more of a rabble-rouser than I thought (except, I guess, that no one else was roused, save by confusion and indignation at the first expression of anti-authoritarianism they’d heard in a long time). Prompted by prior mentions of drugs and guns by the judge and/or another juror, I brought up my objection to gun laws and drug laws and my inability—nay, refusal—to judge someone in the wrong for violating them, if they hadn’t harmed someone in the process.
Later during the voir dire, when jurors were asked to raise their hands and offer their stories of prior run-ins with the law that might bias them in the cases they might hear, one juror mentioned that his business was audited and he was kind of harassed by the IRS a decade or two ago. I hadn’t thought of the potential of hearing a case of tax evasion, but I realized then and there that I would never, ever, under any circumstances, whether they include other wrongdoings on the part of the defendant or duress (short of jail time) applied to me, vote in favor of the IRS. Never. Tax evasion is a noble act, and if people can get away with it, I say more power to them. The IRS is the aggressor and the defendant is the victim in any case of tax evasion, and I would not punish a victim of the IRS’s predations. If jurors are supposed to consider only the facts of the case, then please don’t blame me for taking all the facts into account, including that all taxation is theft and tax evasion represents an act of self-defense.
Don’t worry; I didn’t say nearly all that. I was not eloquent, forceful, or convincing in my comments. But I made points that many reasonable people agree with.
The other jurors came from all walks of (American) life, and most seemed smart, reasonable, and common-sensical enough. I think they’d make a fine jury, save their sheep-like attitude towards following orders and obeying the law even if they believe them to be wrong.
Because of my expression of support for the principles of jury nullification and eventually mentioning the words “jury nullification,” the judge explained that it was actually illegal, wrong, subversive of the rule of law that binds society, and not backed by any English common-law or American legal tradition. This could be true, but juror conscription, sex-discrimination, and the Three-Fifths Compromise are also part of American legal tradition, and that doesn’t make them right.
The judge clearly believed firmly in the separation of powers by the system of checks and balances in our Constitution, and s/he supported the jury’s position as defender or buffer of fellow citizens against the State. This is why s/he believed it was not the place of jurors to make law; that’s for the legislative branch. (I could mention that it is most certainly the function of the justice system to judge the law; that’s exactly what judicial review is!) On either four or five separate occasions, not in one long speech or un-separated by other matters, the judge stated in no uncertain terms that it was totally and completely illegal, wrong, inappropriate, and un-American for a jury to arrogate to itself the power of deciding on the validity of the law in addition to the facts of the case. It doesn’t matter what you think, it doesn’t matter what you want, it doesn’t matter if anyone was harmed—the jury should decide on whether the facts of the case indicate a violation of the law, and vote “objectively” in accordance with those facts.
I find this disgusting and abominable.
I cannot and will not vote against my conscience, and I cannot and will not violate my conscience to avoid breaking the law or to send someone else to prison for actions that I don’t believe warrant it. There is nothing about any legislator, governor, president, or any other elected official, or lawyer, or judge, or Department of Justice official, or their position, or any other regular citizen like myself, that makes them suited to outlaw something but makes me unsuited to deem that law unjust and invalid. The fact that legislators were voted in by other people, even a majority of voters in a given region at a given time, or the fact that a majority of citizens in this region at this time agree with the law, does not make any law the slightest bit more just, nor does it make it just to imprison someone for violating it. Might does not make right, and the majority should not rule. Six billion people vs. one does not make the one any less justified in his opinion. If I am to judge someone’s guilt, I will make that judgment using my own sense of justice and my own conception of right vs. wrong, and no other criteria.
The easiest and, unfortunately, most prevalent example of the propriety of judging the law instead of the facts is drug laws. I believe most of the harm that comes from drugs is because they are illegal, and I won’t participate in adding to that harm by punishing someone for violating them. I shouldn’t have to remind anyone of the monstrous crimes against humanity that have been committed by people who were “just obeying the law.” Right and wrong exist prior to and independent of legislation.
So after the voir dire, before we were dismissed for lunch at 1:45, a few pairs of people were told to switch seats. Apparently our order had some meaning or function. I ended up being the last “alternate” juror, as opposed to one of the first-string jurors originally. It doesn’t seem like there should be anything wrong with this, but really I think there is. The jury system is set up to weed out people who will vote with their own mind and in a way that is subversive to the State’s wishes. I’m sure you’ve heard this before. I experienced it first-hand.
To tell you the truth, I felt a little guilty for saying things that would rub the judge and prosecutor the wrong way and set off alarms in their head that I was not suitable to implement the State’s laws. And I felt bad about feeling bad about that. I felt ashamed all around. But I shouldn’t have; I didn’t “get out” of jury duty; I didn’t say 10% of what I thought about monopolistic government, monopolistic law enforcement systems, juror conscription, and a society that shuns people who would vote their conscience instead of kowtowing to objectionable laws.
I possibly could have had a chance to help put corrupt politicians behind bars, and when I heard that was one of many possibilities, I wanted to leap at the opportunity and keep my mouth shut. Instead I was honest. I’m not going to feel bad about being honest, and I’m not going to feel bad about demurring at the idea of serving the State mostly involuntarily for a year and a half. It was probably one of the more convenient times in my life to undergo such an endeavor, but I would either hate myself for it or come under some kind of stress for promising to uphold the (potentially objectionable) law and then blatantly violating that promise on day 1. Then again, if you want jury-duty advice for the future, know this: you can vote exactly how you want and voice any objections you want, without fear of judgment or repercussions, because no one besides the other jurors—not the prosecutor, not the judge, not even the stenographer or interpreters or anyone else—can know how you voted on anything, ever. At least not in that type of jury.
I’ve heard the reasons why regular, lay citizens should be extracted from their normal lives and forced into jury duty; they sound like good reasons on the surface. But why shouldn’t laymen be conscripted to serve as judges? As lawyers? Oh, are those too specialized positions to leave in the hands of laymen? How about serving as courthouse janitor once every few years? How about substitute teachers or DMV workers or receptionists? There is nothing about jurors that precludes them from being professionals, educated and specialized, just like there’s nothing that precludes every function of the government from being privatized (or abolished!). I know it’s hard to put myself in other people’s mindset sometimes, but I honestly think this is one issue where wacky libertarians like me and others can find common ground. Juror conscription is a violation, it’s impractical, and it has facilitated a State-serving function of the courts, which is the opposite of how juries should be and certainly the opposite of what the founding fathers wanted.
That said, in the future, if I’m conscripted into regular jury duty, I might see if I can swallow my abhorrence of the monopolistic court system and help fight the State from somewhere other than my computer chair. It probably won’t be such a terrible thing. Just think: if you were the sole person responsible for a hung jury on a drug trafficking or gun possession charge, you’d be a minor hero for a day. I don’t know how much you’re told about the particular case before you start serving, but if I can keep an innocent person out of prison, if only temporarily, I will lie to the State to stab it in the back.