For the last 2 weeks I’ve been on jury service here in the UK. It’s been an odd, unsettling, and sometimes completely bizarre couple of weeks. But it’s also been inspiring and reaffirming that sometimes our bloated, overstressed systems actually do work.
What was it like?
Well, the whole set-up was completely different to what I expected. I figured that all the big cases happened at the Old Bailey and that Kingston Crown Court would be small, probably have just one or two court rooms, and see just 1- or 2-day cases.
I arrived to find a massive room of about 80 people waiting for their jury service. It was like a massive airport lounge but with fewer people standing close to the front desk trying to be the first ones through the doors.
They handed me a form telling me that they were starting a 10 week trial that day and that if I couldn’t sit on it, I had to tell them why. I’ve never been so pleased to have pre-booked travel in my diary as it gave me something concrete to include in my get-out-clause.
It turns out that there are 12 courts in Kingston covering a wide range of cases by type and length. I spoke to one lady who’d shown up to do her 2 weeks in January, was put (against the wishes of her and her company) on a long trial and had already been there for 13 weeks.
There’s an airport scanner at the front door and a security lock to get into the jury area.
They officially operate from 10am until 4:30pm with a fixed 1 hour break for lunch from 1pm to 2pm.
The jury waiting room is rows upon rows of comfy chairs. There’s an office for the jury staff, a quiet working area, and a small cafeteria. They give you a card which magically refills to £5.71 each day for your on-site “subsistence”. Though if you don’t spend it you get it back at the end of your service (try not to spend it all in one place!).
How did it work?
After they show you a short video with a few definitions and a bit of a “what happens in court” for anyone who’s never watched an episode of Law and Order, they tell you to make yourself comfortable and wait.
And wait you will. You could technically go your whole two weeks without getting a trial though that seems pretty unlikely given the sheer number of trials. It seemed that about 4 new trials started each day.
When they need a jury, they put together a jury panel by calling out names. That’s normally 15 people but for a long or complex trial could be many more. The jury panel is taken down to the court where everyone is waiting.
The defendant is in the dock behind a waist to ceiling glass barrier. The judge is on his/her bench. The solicitors are in their places. And they’re all wearing robes and wigs.
The court clerk randomly selects 12 who go straight into the jury area while the other 3 hang out. The defendant has the option of rejecting one or more jurors before they’re sworn in, so the other 3 act as alternates, just in case.
Once in place all the jurors need to be sworn in. The standard swearing in statement is Christian while holding a bible. The first alternate is an “affirmation” that’s almost the same but leaves out “Almighty God” and the bible. But they also keep copies of the Koran and other holy texts in the court with appropriate swearing in statements. After the jury’s sworn in the alternates leave and go back into the jury pool.
And then it just starts! No introduction. No preparation. Everyone was already there and waiting for the jury so they just get on with it. The prosecutor stands up, sets out the case, and calls the first witness!
What were your cases?
Over the 2 weeks I sat on three different cases.
The first was a case of violent disorder and conspiracy to cause criminal damage after an alcohol-fuelled rampage through a town centre. There were three young men on trial and others had already pled guilty in advance. We found them all not guilty on all charges.
This was quite a long trial and included CCTV evidence, statements from all 3 defendants, a Detective Inspector on the stand, and one of the defendants on the stand over 5 days. But mostly it featured the 3 defence solicitors (one for each defendant) bringing up points of law that the jury couldn’t hear. So on any given day we’d spend half the day in court, and half the day shuffling in and out, waiting around wondering if/when we’d get called back to court.
It also featured some really amusing points where the solicitors, witnesses, and even the judge were repeating things allegedly said by the defendants during the rampage. So we had educated people with posh accents saying things like “who’s on for a terrorize”, “who want’s some?”, and “the police ain’t fucking coming.”
We also enjoyed one of the defence solicitor who tried, during his closing, to make out that his client was “like the lead character from Schindler’s List”. He was there when the carnage was happening but he was the good guy trying to stop it. He even helpfully pointed out that director Steven Spielberg was Jewish!
The second was a case of sexual assault. We found the defendant not guilty.
This was a lot simpler due to a reduced number of solicitors; one for each side. But because of the nature of the case, over the 1.5 days it took to try it, we heard a fascinating set of language over and over and over again. There was a huge amount of “testicles”. Quite a lot of “foreskin” and “shaft”. And even some “ejaculation”. The term that really grossed us out was “scrotal gangrene”. And the winner for funny phrase of the two weeks was “he was the one who brought his penis into play” (twice).
The third case was about fraud and theft. What seemed like a simple case became quite complex due to the subtleties of the laws on fraud. But in the end we found the defendant guilty on 2 counts of fraud, and not guilty on 1 count of fraud and 1 count of theft.
In the jury room
At the end of the case after we’d heard every possible piece of evidence explained to us multiple times by the prosecutor, one or more defence solicitors, and the judge, we were packed off to a small room with a table and 12 chairs to consider our views.
I think they must make these rooms cramped and uncomfortable on purpose. You can’t leave except to go to one of the ensuite loos and they bring in a fairly pitiful selection of sandwiches at lunch (bring your own if you think you’re going to be deliberating). They won’t even bring in tea or coffee at any time except lunchtime! And of course you don’t have any electronic devices in the room at all so you’re completely cut off from reality.
If you don’t decide in the day they send you home at night and then lock you up first thing the next day.
Yet somehow in that environment, people display the very best of themselves.
In all 3 juries I sat on, my fellow jurors were reasonable, patient, open, sensible, honest, generous, logical, and willing to put their own personal feelings aside in order to consider the evidence presented and nothing else. The only real issues and arguments we had were when we were struggling to get our heads around the sometimes subtle and contradictory elements of the laws we were considering.
It amazes me that you can put 12 people from completely different backgrounds, educations, and even continents (I sat on juries with other expats from Europe, Asia, and South America) and still come to a unanimous decision on a complex matter after only a few hours.
And finally…
After two long and exhausting weeks my jury service is over.
I can’t say that I enjoyed it, but I absolutely think it was worth doing and I recommend that anyone who’s asked should do it rather than try to dodge it. It is inconvenient, but it’s an experience that you won’t get anywhere else.
The system of justice in the UK, like in many countries, is complex, laborious, and incredibly slow. My three cases were based on events that happened between April and September last year. For those involved in the cases, either as victims or defendants, that must seem like an eternity.
But ultimately, in spite of its flaws, the system seems to work. The defendants are absolutely considered innocent until proven guilty. The burden of proof is entirely on the prosecution. The judge ensures there’s no bad behaviour with an iron hand.
It may not be perfect, but it works.
The accompanying notes were quite detailed on this Sicilian wine. Apparently it’s produced by a cooperative in the hills around 
Well, how could we refuse…