I, The Jury

By Marc-Yves Tumin

The charge was stealing a dollar. The plea was "not guilty." The trial was in Lower Manhattan. The jury room was stifling. The jurors were slow to agree. The supper was in a downtown restaurant. The bus was free. The bridge was the Verrazano. The motel was in Staten Island. And it was all on the taxpayers' dime. What a nightmare! What a disgrace!

Yes, some years ago, I sat on a jury. The defendant was a man snared in a police sting.

Two women were arrested along with him. He was accused of robbing a policewoman on 14th Street. They were charged with assisting him.

In this case, the plainclothes officer hung out at a phone booth with some marked bills in her pocketbook. Backup cops kept an eye on her. Apparently, bandits were drawn to her like flies. Your man pleaded not guilty and the case went to trial.

Hundred of people were called in to Centre Street. A dozen unfortunates were chosen.

The prospective jurors were grilled by lawyers. What magazines do you read? Is any member of your family in law enforcement? Was any family member a crime victim? Do you have a problem with the defendant remaining silent?

To the last question, I said I did. I wanted to hear his story in his own words. The judge must have noticed my double-barreled moniker because he lectured me about how in this country you're innocent until proven guilty.

"Innocent until proven guilty" is a convenient legal fiction. And I happened to have been born here.

So I asked the judge if he was calling me un-American. He quickly retreated: Oh, no, never! The defendant's lawyers replied: "We thank you for your frankness."

When all was said and done, I was picked. Too bad we couldn't reach a decision by nightfall.

The court had us escorted to a restaurant and paid for our dinner. We were then bused, under armed guard, to Staten Island and there we were "sequestered."

We weren't allowed to read papers, watch the news or listen to the radio. That was to prevent us from being influenced by the mob of outsiders straining for a word about the high-profile case.

I recall a mature businessman lamenting the jury selection. He was immaculate in a three-piece suit and gold-rimmed glasses. His manner bespoke refinement, education, and seriousness. He couldn't understand why he was bounced. I think I know.

The selection process is part and parcel of the nanny state. Progressives prattle about civil liberties, evoke the specter of slavery, and shudder about a revival of the draft.

Too bad they ignore servitude to the intrusive census, the inquisitorial IRS, and the peonage of public education.

Jury duty is part of the training program to make people compliant to Big Brother.

One of the worst pieces of news you can receive is a summons to jury duty. It's up there with an audit and an eviction notice.

Junk justice, television judges, and judicial activists have had a corrosive effect on the public. The jury racket makes folks even more cynical.

This wolf's head mainly serves the needs of lawyers and judges. It's a prime example of the welfare state run amok. Perhaps that's why the press and broadcast industry is so enthusiastic about it.

Business bears the cost along with the Little People. The educated and the intelligent are winnowed out: Attorneys seek subjects they can fool, whose behavior they can predict and manipulate.

Prospective jurors are compelled to fill out lengthy questionnaires about one's habits, thoughts, and personal history, including one's family.

If you're less than honest, it's easy to give the right answers to serve or not to serve. And how do you know if an unwilling juror will render a true verdict?

Progressives tout self-esteem, but how can anyone be proud to serve as a juror? The remedy? Start by making trials less of a game. Eliminate plea-bargaining, the exclusionary rule, and the juvenile laws. Let jurors cross-examine the defendant. And add the verdict: "Not Proven."

Most importantly, make unaccountable judges run for office, and compile a pool of professional jurors: an all-volunteer army of enthusiastic people, ready, willing, and able to serve.

Too bad there's as much chance of this happening as a "None of the Above" lever on voting machines.