Excuse ME? [irked]
I can’t help feel a bit jilted by the U.S. District Court judge on this Valentine’s Day. After a full week of doing my best to please her, she turns to me today just before climax and tells me that it’s just not going to work out. Sure, she was nice about it (it’s not you, it’s me — I only need 12 of you), but it still hurts, you know?
Yeah, so the jury duty thing I posted about on Monday. As an attorney working exclusively on federal criminal cases, surprise is an understatement that I was allowed within fifty yards of this jury, let alone selected (more properly, I supposed I was NOT struck of excused for cause). Given that it was a case alleging excessive use of force by a DC police officer (here’s the brief WP article on the incident, if you are curious), I can see why the defense might think I’d be fine to leave in, given that I work with law enforcement officers a good bit. On the government’s side, my prosecution-side involvement makes me seem desirable enough. And I looked more like a grad student during selection than a lawyer, so I doubt either side thought I’d have much sway over other jurors.
Turns out, I didn’t get a chance to find out either. I was one of the two hidden alternates. Out of 14 jurors, only 12 deliberate. The other two go home. And they don’t tell you until after closing arguments who’s who. So, after sitting through a full three and a half days of trial, I cannot share anything about deliberations because I didn’t get to stay. Can’t tell you how disappointing it is — like finding out there’s no Santa after spending the week not punching your brother in the nose even though he deserves it. In this case, my “brother” is largely the defense attorney.
If you’re geeky enough to have done debate (yep, Y and I actually debated together in high school, which is another way of saying that we were awesome), and even geekier-enough to have judged debate rounds, you try not to hold the argument hostage because of who’s making it. This is a learned skill, and it’s not one that the jurors I was empannelled with were exercising very well. And it’s not their fault. This lawyer — and I used the term exclusively for its literal meaning since I have to assume he was barred — was the biggest time-wasting, point-missing, just plain stupid guy in an expensive suit that I’ve ever seen.
No, this isn’t the guy, but it’s as close to a visual I can come of a stupid looking lawyer. Try to focus on the vacant expression and imagine watching him search around in his head for a thought.
A specific example? Some people use filler words when speaking. No problem, normally, in moderation. His was “fair to say” with which he ended every question on C-X. In several questions, he managed to use it three times in the same sentence. By the end of the C-X of a native Korean speaker, I was almost able to say “fair to say” in Korean. It was bad enough that the jury noticed and discussed it at length. I also saw one guy pretend to hang himself with his tie at one point while we were still in the box. It was bad.
But what kills the most: he’s the main partner at the go-to firm employed by the DC police officers union when an officer is accused of excessive force. Simple incompetence does not inspire the towering level of annoyance this dude inspired through his (deliberate?) time-wasting and retracing of a 15 second event in one brutal 2 hour cross of a witness who didn’t even SEE the critical moment, when the blow was supposedly struck. A good defense attorney might do the same thing to muddy the waters, confuse the jury, bring in doubt. But the juror was united with dislike for this guy by the time the trial ended, and I worry that it will rub off on his client (which it naturally will but shouldn’t).
After this dude wasted probably a full day and a half of my life with excessive/useless lines of questioning, I don’t want to extend his soul-crushing reach into cyber space and victimize you all by proxy. But there’s a lesson here: before hiring a criminal defense lawyer, go and actually watch them conduct part of a trial. I hear that people getting married will sample the food at several vendors before deciding who to go with. If I were looking at LIFE imprisonment like this defendant is, I would hope that I would make at least as thorough a search for my advocate as I would when agonizing over whether I want my guests to have a fish or chicken option.
Also, since the GP writers are all lawyer-geeks despite our other Geek specialties, I think predicting trial outcomes is probably fun for all of us. Since I’m the only one who saw this one, I’m the only one who can play this round, but I expect a guilty verdict, and — despite the above tirade against defense counsel — I don’t think that’s a miscarriage of justice given the evidence I saw and the best arguments I could make on the defendant’s behalf. We’ll see.