Jury Duty–Two. A Case of a Negotiated Verdict
January 3rd, 2009 Posted in Jury Duty | No Comments »A few decades back a detective charged with accepting a bribe went on trial. The State’s Attorney had a very tight case built around a tape recording of the actual felony which took place in a popular local restaurant-bar.
This was the first case of a new judge who as a successful defense lawyer had made frequent appearances on local television talk-shows. He seemed a reasonable and rational man. Not vindictive. Not a hanging judge. The trial was held during spring break for the local universities and colleges so a disproportionate number of academics were on the jury including, to everyone’s shock and delight, two iconic world famous men—one a hugely successful film director, the other a top-flight literary critic.and creative writer Otherwise the jury contained eleven men and one woman, nine Euros and three Afros. The defendant was Afro.
The defendant, who didn’t take the stand in his own defense, was asked by the judge to stand and answer a simple question to give the jury a measure of his voice for comparison to the voice on the tape. He was a sympathetic figure in appearance and demeanor. The judge assured the jury that the determination of the nature and degree of any punishment was his responsibility. The jury was only to consider the question of guilt. Period.
In presentation of the facts the jury saw that the technician who wired the setup for the recording had been turned by the police and the prosecuting attorneys. There was a hint of entrapment of the charged detective but neither element was developed or explained.
On the facts there was no doubt, reasonable or otherwise. The detective had not carried out his duty for a monetary consideration. He was guilty. There were four counts—one each for specific statements he made as recorded on the tape—four counts but actually a single act.
The jury retired to its assigned room for discussion. A long table, five chairs to each side, and two chairs at head and foot. A high ceiling, airy room with tall windows on two sides. The clear sky and trees and bushes visible; the bustle of the city distanced. The initial vote was nine to three for guilty on all charges. Two of the negatives were advanced to assure that the panel would have a round of opinion and analysis to get a general sense of the rationals offered for the vote. And after this review a second ballot saw the the vote on the guilty side rise to eleven. There was one hold-out.
The hold-out: a young Afro man, who worked a pressing machine at a tailor shop, was adamant in his opinion and over several hours the combined logic of the academics could not budge him from his view of the case. His refutations were no stronger than those of the defense attorney and after another period of give and take it became obvious to the majority that his intransigence could not be swayed by reason and logic. His motive for holding out was somewhere else.
The jury process takes two general forms–(1) A unity in opinion. All members quickly, or after at most a short period of discussion, agree on a verdict (no matter whether up or down). (2) A disunity in opinion. Members split in their opinions. They disagree and can find no easy way to resolve their differences. The numbers on each side (or even the number of sides) while important to the dynamic of the process are not the critical point—just the disagreement itself.is the measure.
This inability to reach a decision frustrates the presumption that a rational decision can be made. The hung jury actually is as valid an outcome as any other, but the logic of the order pushes for a pure unanimity. And in fact when a hung jury seems to be developing the judge applies pressure—keeping jury in session, answering questions of law and providing transcripts and items of evidence, encouraging members to be reasonable and to listen to each other. The jury is pressed to reach a unified conclusion. Their feet are held to the fire.
The jury becomes more emotional, suffers an increase in tension. The contention of the sides in the trial is now replicated in the jury room. As the hours pass with no progress, with all the logic and issues recycled endlessly, the group recognizes that it is at an impasse. Words no longer work. There is no more to say. The jury is hung, can’t reach a decision. If the judge doesn’t relent, if he insists that they continue, the heat inside the jury room continues upward. Their lives in abeyance, the task futile, the power of the judge to limit their freedom transparent and working.
If you go back a step and consider again the situation of the lawyers and the judge who are all trained and talented and experienced far beyond any jury panel you would wonder why they themselves can not reach a unified decision. Actually they are designated to not reach a decision. They, in a sense, can not allow themselves to be overwhelmed by the facts. So they ask the jury to complete their jobs for them
The judge sequestered the jury—that is he limited the movement of its members radically. His guards took them to a local restaurant for a late dinner and then to a midtown hotel where they occupied a closed off wing with guards present at all times in the hall. Members needed permission to telephone their families and a guard had to be present. An unexpected outcome: the trial, a limbo of no decision, and now the jurors in jail.
The next day the group was assembled again in their special room, around their special table and again put to the repetitive grind—members were losing hope, all their arguments without effect and the hold-out standing finally not on reason but on willfulness. Sort of a they-shall-not-pass mind set. Tempers heated as the day wore on, emotions of anger and frustration toward a high pitch, The possibility of a second night locked in the hotel looming—their regular lives on hold and receding into the tunnel where no daylight peeps from the far end.
A high point. One man otherwise sensible and quiet spoken shouting that he could not stand any more of the impossibility of the task stood and suddenly raced toward the nearest window obviously aiming to jump—it involved at most a ten foot drop. But the others grabbed him and calmed him down. Another juror had a beatific experience earlier at breakfast at the hotel when he announced that he was Jesus reincarnated—at that moment his appearance changed—long, reddish straight hair, pale skin, soulful look, head slightly back eyes raised toward the heavens. The group wasn’t sure whether he was frivolous or serious. Maybe he didn’t know either. It seemed another expression of the tension the group was experiencing.
The foreman and the intransigent juror #2, sitting side by side through the trial and at the table had become friendly and finding themselves a private moment during a break engaged in a frank and informal talk. Juror #2 admitted that he actually agreed with the conclusion of the rest that the detective was guilty but he did not want his vote to lead to what he felt might be an unjustified punishment. He was reluctant to vote guilty because of the possible consequences for the defendant. The faith that the judge could be relied on to be fair and just was lacking.
This was also a concern for the foreman but he and the others had accepted the judge’s claim that it was his problem alone. The question of whether to trust the judge’s discretion had been buried. So the two men found a common ground here. And they reached a compromise—guilty on one count and not on the other three. This would send a message for leniency and hopefully limit the judge’s own option. It would also free the jury of its burden and get them out of another night away from home.
The deal: guilty on the first count and a hung jury on the other charges. The foreman promised to vote with #2 on these extra charges and to assure the judge that there was no hope of reaching a unified decision beyond the one charge.
The strategy worked. The judge accepted the verdict, thanked the jury and sent them home. Case closed.
The foreman talked to a few other members about the deal and they expressed ambivalence to downright rejection. The idea of negotiating a fact was not welcome. Yet with the plea bargain the lawyers and the judge play with two realities–the fact of the crime and the fact of the confession. In the case at hand it was either bargain or have a guilty man walk free (even if only until a possible retrial). Admittedly no jury is ever encouraged to bargain. In fact, a real fact negotiated becomes something else, an I-don’t-know-what.