Just two hours ago, the vote was 10 guilty to 2 not guilty. In those two hours, one vocal juror has monopolized the discussion, suggesting that the accused has been framed. Sort of a one-juror filibuster, holding the floor for two long hours, droning on about a rather wild and unplausible conspiracy theory until my ears are weary of the sound of her voice.
But it's worked. As I look around the table at all their faces, I can see that glazed-over, just-get-me-out-of here look. The filibuster has worn everyone down. My number one desire at the moment is to have some peace and quiet, and from the looks of the others, they feel the very same way.
- Eleven people want to escape from the sound of her voice.
- Eleven people want to go home.
- Eleven people want off this stupid jury.
- Eleven people are ready to relax.
- Eleven people have had enough.
And now that the vote has been announced, there's something else in their faces. Frustration...
- One stinking juror is holding out.
- One stinking juror is being difficult.
- One stinking juror is not cooperating.
- One stinking juror is keeping everyone else from getting out of here and going home.
- One stinking juror is prolonging everyone else's misery.
- Eleven inaudible "ughs".
- Eleven people lean in toward me, elbows on the table.
- Eleven sets of serious eyes bore through me.
- Eleven adamant faces say "this better be good".
A loud outburst from our filibustering juror, which is surprisingly cut off by the foreman. "We've heard from you" he says. "Now we want to hear why she's still voting guilty."
"Keep it short and sweet" my instinct whispers to me. "They're fried."
So I said, "I believe the police officers are telling the truth, and I believe the evidence is real. That's all."
Silence. Ahhhh. Wonderful, refreshing silence. To be able to hear yourself THINK again.
And they did just exactly that. They THOUGHT. They thought about the evidence. They thought about the testimony of the police officers. They put their minds in gear and THOUGHT.
One by one, they broke that precious silence to say they wanted to change their vote. Even the filibustering juror! It was unanimous. A guilty verdict. Rendered by a thinking jury.
That day, I saw a vivid picture of how easily a group can be swayed by an emotional appeal. It was so easy for the jurists to go along with a flawed "conspiracy theory." To be swept away by a long emotional tirade. To stop thinking. To throw out the obvious truth.
If the filibustering juror had prevailed, the accused would have been set free to commit more crimes. Three honorable, truthful policemen would've been greatly discouraged. An overworked, underpaid prosecuting attorney who so thoroughly presented an airtight case would have been wrongly defeated. Truth would have been defeated. The people of truth would have been left twisting in the wind... defeated.
The jury would have been party to a miscarriage of justice. Twelve decent, good-willed people would have been derelict in their duty to weigh the evidence and testimony and render a reasonable verdict.
We are bombarded with so many messages, some of which are simply not true. We get weary. We get tired of listening. We get tired to refuting. We get tired of thinking. Sometimes we mentally check out. We become silent. And in our silence, the false message and the ever-present, ever-vocal false messengers often carry the day without opposition. How sad.
Yes, silence is golden. There is a time for silence. But there is a time to speak. To remind people of the truth. Even when they don't seem like they would want to hear it...
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