It's Tuesday evening. Three days since I disgraced the centurion uniform. I've managed to regain my equilibrium and can now look back and laugh at my experience in the shadows of a country garden.
The kids quizzed me mercilessly about the roman toga party. I managed to make it all sound a bit ho-hum. Miss Eleven was ecstatic about my prize, however, and - as I don't have much of a sweet tooth - I gave the box to her. She's in her bedroom right now and has probably put a sizeable dent in that vast store of chocolate.
My son has a nasty gash to his left hand - the result of helping his grandfather dismantle an old motor mower. He got a few stitches and a tetanus booster shot. What he did not get was any time off school. He tried to get me on side but - since he's right-handed - he was never going to win.
I'm reflecting tonight on a new client I saw yesterday. There are strict laws in this country regarding jury service. While a case is in progress, jurors are duty-bound to avoid discussing the case with anyone, including their friends and families. Afterwards, once the jury has been discharged, there are equally strict laws governing the privacy and confidentiality of whatever transpired in the jury room. In some countries, jurors are allowed to speak to the press post-trial and even discuss the reasoning (or lack of it) employed in arriving at a verdict. On balance, I feel it is better that privilege should extend beyond the trial's end, but my newest client has given me cause to wonder whether things can always be that simple.
This woman - let's call her Ms X - served on a jury around two years ago and has been dealing with feelings of guilt and inadequacy ever since. Her depression has now reached a stage where her marriage is at risk, her children feel alienated from her and she no longer cares about her appearance. Before the trial, she was an outgoing and attractive woman who loved her husband, her children, her house and her part-time job in a local business.
I won't give too much detail about the trial itself. I've no personal desire to flout the law and I certainly don't want to risk identifying this woman in any way. Suffice to say, the death penalty no longer exists in the Australian justice system, so she was not participating in life or death deliberations. The charge was a grave one, however, and the consequence of a guilty verdict would be a substantial term of imprisonment.
So what went wrong? Those of us who have seen or read "Twelve Angry Men" or "The Runaway Jury" are already aware that jury deliberations can sometimes turn very ugly. In this particular case, things began to turn pear-shaped from the very start. An alpha-type male simply assumed the role of jury foreman without any discussion or anything as democratic as a vote. Ms X felt this was wrong but said nothing as she felt each juror would nonetheless get to play his or her part in the decision-making process.
The foreman's first suggestion was that the jurors should openly declare whether they had already made up their minds and indicate what verdict they had reached. Ms X demurred, saying she felt they should at least run through the evidence given and discuss what had been demonstrated as being manifestly true, untrue or uncertain. She received some support from other jurors on this point but it was nonetheless agreed by the majority that a quick verbal poll was a good idea and might save time.
The first poll resulted in eight votes for "guilty", three votes for "undecided" and one vote - from Ms X - for "not guilty". This did not go down well with the foreman. He was not about to preside over a hung jury. Apparently he was not a man to use sweet-talk. Invective and personal attack seemed to be his preferred communication style. Ms X and the three undecided jurors were subjected to taunts and ridicule along the lines of: "Are you sure you actually listened?" and even "What drugs are you on?"
Heated discussion continued for several hours. Jurors began to check their watches, displaying obvious signs of impatience. Some observed that they had no desire for deliberations to carry over to the next day. In an attempt to break the deadlock, Ms X suggested she might be more comfortable in finding the defendant guilty of a lesser charge which the judge had left open to the jury, but the war raged on.
At last, a secret ballot was conducted and two of the undecided jurors moved to "guilty". Only Ms X and one other woman were the stand-outs. It was suggested that the judge be contacted to see if he would accept a majority verdict. The foreman would have none of this. He was a man who thinks life is all about winning and losing and he was not about to lose face, as he saw it, by appearing unable to whip this jury into shape.
When asked what her problem was - and I love that terminology: "her problem" - Ms X replied that she did not feel the prosecution had proved its case beyond a reasonable doubt. Further argument ensued, with the majority's view being that this guy was probably as guilty as hell. Ms X attempted to justify her stance on the basis that guilt should not be adjudged simply on the balance of probabilities. She was scorned and ridiculed; so great was the heat that the only remaining undecided juror - in tears - moved over to the "guilty" camp.
Though an intelligent, broad-minded, courageous and compassionate woman, my client was no trail-blazing hero. This was the first time in her life that she felt contempt flowing towards her from a group of people who knew nothing about her other than the fact that she had - as they saw it - a "problem" in agreeing with the majority view. She did the only thing her frayed nerves and bruised ego could do - she agreed to change her vote to guilty. The only salve she could find for her conscience was that a majority verdict would have been accepted anyway, and there was no way she could have done a Henry Fonda and brought others around to her viewpoint.
So a unanimous verdict was reached. Ms X was able to maintain a brave face while the verdict was delivered but she left the courthouse a shattered woman.
Since that day, she has descended into a morass of self-loathing. Her family has tried to understand her difficulty, but they probably don't appreciate what a fragile thing one's self-esteem can be. Just one careless statement may, if we dwell on it, reduce our self-esteem to rubble. Ms X no longer has a sex life; she no longer engages with the outside world; she no longer cares about her appearance and hygiene; she no longer expresses an opinion and she immediately retreats if anyone attempts to argue a point with her. Her GP simply hands out anti-depressants and sleepers. He has referred her to me because he finally appreciates that therapy and exhaustive discussion are needed here, not just mind-numbing medications.
My greatest concern in all of this is that we apparently have no systems in place to assist people like Ms X. We do have support systems for the victims of crime and their families, but it has seemingly never occurred to us - and I'll admit it has never previously occurred to me - that we may need to put something in place to assist jurors who are traumatised in the jury room decision-making process. I intend to make enquiries, as discreetly as possible, to see if there is any way in which Ms X may seek assistance and even compensation for the suffering she endured in that jury room.
In the interim, we will work together to gradually rebuild her self-esteem and set small, incremental goals on a road to recovery.
In deciding on a title for this blog, my hope was that the word "hung" might encourage members to check out these words. Many of us will have heard jokes and seen cartoons about a "hung" jury or a "hung" parliament - lots of naked males with enormous blessings on display - but I wanted to point out the downside of a hung jury and the possibility that some jurors, like Ms X, may be forever scarred for not daring to have the courage of their convictions.
There are too many bullies in the world. I'd love to tell Ms X that her jury foreman was probably extra-bombastic because he has a tiny dick but, obviously, there is seldom room for levity in my job. I'd also like to know what was going on in the minds of the other jury members. Surely they can't all have been happy to witness these bullying tactics. Or maybe a "Lord of the Flies" mentality lies dormant in each of us, waiting only for a suitably vulnerable person to attack and an artificially closed environment in which to operate.
I'd be very interested in hearing from members who have served on juries and - without breaking any confidentiality laws -whether they felt the system worked well, whether they felt free to state their views, and whether those views were accorded the respect of others.
So, that's today's rant.
On a different subject, my fitness regime continues to go well and I even think there's a slim chance that I will be a middle-aged Adonis when my old friend arrives for a visit in December. I've yet to work out why that seems to matter to me so much. Am I just being my usual competitive self or do I secretly hope that we will fall into each other's arms and then hop into bed? Lord knows. Maybe it's best to think "que sera sera".
In the interim, here's hoping I can get laid soon and thus put an end to feeling constantly randy! One quick gummy does not constitute a sex life!
The kids quizzed me mercilessly about the roman toga party. I managed to make it all sound a bit ho-hum. Miss Eleven was ecstatic about my prize, however, and - as I don't have much of a sweet tooth - I gave the box to her. She's in her bedroom right now and has probably put a sizeable dent in that vast store of chocolate.
My son has a nasty gash to his left hand - the result of helping his grandfather dismantle an old motor mower. He got a few stitches and a tetanus booster shot. What he did not get was any time off school. He tried to get me on side but - since he's right-handed - he was never going to win.
I'm reflecting tonight on a new client I saw yesterday. There are strict laws in this country regarding jury service. While a case is in progress, jurors are duty-bound to avoid discussing the case with anyone, including their friends and families. Afterwards, once the jury has been discharged, there are equally strict laws governing the privacy and confidentiality of whatever transpired in the jury room. In some countries, jurors are allowed to speak to the press post-trial and even discuss the reasoning (or lack of it) employed in arriving at a verdict. On balance, I feel it is better that privilege should extend beyond the trial's end, but my newest client has given me cause to wonder whether things can always be that simple.
This woman - let's call her Ms X - served on a jury around two years ago and has been dealing with feelings of guilt and inadequacy ever since. Her depression has now reached a stage where her marriage is at risk, her children feel alienated from her and she no longer cares about her appearance. Before the trial, she was an outgoing and attractive woman who loved her husband, her children, her house and her part-time job in a local business.
I won't give too much detail about the trial itself. I've no personal desire to flout the law and I certainly don't want to risk identifying this woman in any way. Suffice to say, the death penalty no longer exists in the Australian justice system, so she was not participating in life or death deliberations. The charge was a grave one, however, and the consequence of a guilty verdict would be a substantial term of imprisonment.
So what went wrong? Those of us who have seen or read "Twelve Angry Men" or "The Runaway Jury" are already aware that jury deliberations can sometimes turn very ugly. In this particular case, things began to turn pear-shaped from the very start. An alpha-type male simply assumed the role of jury foreman without any discussion or anything as democratic as a vote. Ms X felt this was wrong but said nothing as she felt each juror would nonetheless get to play his or her part in the decision-making process.
The foreman's first suggestion was that the jurors should openly declare whether they had already made up their minds and indicate what verdict they had reached. Ms X demurred, saying she felt they should at least run through the evidence given and discuss what had been demonstrated as being manifestly true, untrue or uncertain. She received some support from other jurors on this point but it was nonetheless agreed by the majority that a quick verbal poll was a good idea and might save time.
The first poll resulted in eight votes for "guilty", three votes for "undecided" and one vote - from Ms X - for "not guilty". This did not go down well with the foreman. He was not about to preside over a hung jury. Apparently he was not a man to use sweet-talk. Invective and personal attack seemed to be his preferred communication style. Ms X and the three undecided jurors were subjected to taunts and ridicule along the lines of: "Are you sure you actually listened?" and even "What drugs are you on?"
Heated discussion continued for several hours. Jurors began to check their watches, displaying obvious signs of impatience. Some observed that they had no desire for deliberations to carry over to the next day. In an attempt to break the deadlock, Ms X suggested she might be more comfortable in finding the defendant guilty of a lesser charge which the judge had left open to the jury, but the war raged on.
At last, a secret ballot was conducted and two of the undecided jurors moved to "guilty". Only Ms X and one other woman were the stand-outs. It was suggested that the judge be contacted to see if he would accept a majority verdict. The foreman would have none of this. He was a man who thinks life is all about winning and losing and he was not about to lose face, as he saw it, by appearing unable to whip this jury into shape.
When asked what her problem was - and I love that terminology: "her problem" - Ms X replied that she did not feel the prosecution had proved its case beyond a reasonable doubt. Further argument ensued, with the majority's view being that this guy was probably as guilty as hell. Ms X attempted to justify her stance on the basis that guilt should not be adjudged simply on the balance of probabilities. She was scorned and ridiculed; so great was the heat that the only remaining undecided juror - in tears - moved over to the "guilty" camp.
Though an intelligent, broad-minded, courageous and compassionate woman, my client was no trail-blazing hero. This was the first time in her life that she felt contempt flowing towards her from a group of people who knew nothing about her other than the fact that she had - as they saw it - a "problem" in agreeing with the majority view. She did the only thing her frayed nerves and bruised ego could do - she agreed to change her vote to guilty. The only salve she could find for her conscience was that a majority verdict would have been accepted anyway, and there was no way she could have done a Henry Fonda and brought others around to her viewpoint.
So a unanimous verdict was reached. Ms X was able to maintain a brave face while the verdict was delivered but she left the courthouse a shattered woman.
Since that day, she has descended into a morass of self-loathing. Her family has tried to understand her difficulty, but they probably don't appreciate what a fragile thing one's self-esteem can be. Just one careless statement may, if we dwell on it, reduce our self-esteem to rubble. Ms X no longer has a sex life; she no longer engages with the outside world; she no longer cares about her appearance and hygiene; she no longer expresses an opinion and she immediately retreats if anyone attempts to argue a point with her. Her GP simply hands out anti-depressants and sleepers. He has referred her to me because he finally appreciates that therapy and exhaustive discussion are needed here, not just mind-numbing medications.
My greatest concern in all of this is that we apparently have no systems in place to assist people like Ms X. We do have support systems for the victims of crime and their families, but it has seemingly never occurred to us - and I'll admit it has never previously occurred to me - that we may need to put something in place to assist jurors who are traumatised in the jury room decision-making process. I intend to make enquiries, as discreetly as possible, to see if there is any way in which Ms X may seek assistance and even compensation for the suffering she endured in that jury room.
In the interim, we will work together to gradually rebuild her self-esteem and set small, incremental goals on a road to recovery.
In deciding on a title for this blog, my hope was that the word "hung" might encourage members to check out these words. Many of us will have heard jokes and seen cartoons about a "hung" jury or a "hung" parliament - lots of naked males with enormous blessings on display - but I wanted to point out the downside of a hung jury and the possibility that some jurors, like Ms X, may be forever scarred for not daring to have the courage of their convictions.
There are too many bullies in the world. I'd love to tell Ms X that her jury foreman was probably extra-bombastic because he has a tiny dick but, obviously, there is seldom room for levity in my job. I'd also like to know what was going on in the minds of the other jury members. Surely they can't all have been happy to witness these bullying tactics. Or maybe a "Lord of the Flies" mentality lies dormant in each of us, waiting only for a suitably vulnerable person to attack and an artificially closed environment in which to operate.
I'd be very interested in hearing from members who have served on juries and - without breaking any confidentiality laws -whether they felt the system worked well, whether they felt free to state their views, and whether those views were accorded the respect of others.
So, that's today's rant.
On a different subject, my fitness regime continues to go well and I even think there's a slim chance that I will be a middle-aged Adonis when my old friend arrives for a visit in December. I've yet to work out why that seems to matter to me so much. Am I just being my usual competitive self or do I secretly hope that we will fall into each other's arms and then hop into bed? Lord knows. Maybe it's best to think "que sera sera".
In the interim, here's hoping I can get laid soon and thus put an end to feeling constantly randy! One quick gummy does not constitute a sex life!