Readers will recall that some content scheduled for a week ago was lost to the unforgiving heat of California's High Desert. We got a few messages from folks who pointed out that even if the plastic portion of a USB drive is destroyed, the data-storing metal-and-chip portion is still functional. That's true, as far as it goes, but what actually happened was that both the USB drive and the USB to USB-C adapter were ruined. The damage to the former might have been overcome, but not the damage to the latter. And while one might find a place in Los Angeles to buy a new USB-C adapter at 10:00 p.m., there is no such place in Twentynine Palms and its environs. Especially when one has been unable to recharge one's car because the heat caused the high-speed chargers to shut down as a safety measure.
It's been 10 days since the last entry in this series, so please recall that we asked for readers' experiences, and then tried to organize those responses by theme. Today, it's four accounts that address the impact of the judge's instructions:
C.B.L. in Warwick, RI, writes: A number of years ago I was chosen for a Superior Court non-criminal jury trial, and was elected as foreperson. I have a college degree, but no Ph.D. My main takeaway from the whole experience was a very sober one.
I am not one to be easily cowed, but the seriousness of the case, the official proceedings, the courtroom atmosphere, and the general gravity of the whole situation put all of us in a very business-like mood, and as the case went on we clearly felt a great responsibility to do our duty by the law, not by our personal opinions.
Our judge was very experienced and respected, and he made clear our instructions. Both sides presented good arguments, but it was not an evidence based case—more of a grievance case with "injuries" to the plaintiff as to how he had been treated during a certain situation. While we all had some sympathy for the plaintiff and his case, it became clearer each day that our "feelings" about it all had no bearing. We were instructed to rule on the exact charges only, and to that end we could not find for him.
Clearly, any trial involving a famous person would be very different from the one I participated in, but I would hope that the same somber atmosphere would prevail within the courtroom and the jurors would feel the same responsibility to do their solemn duty to the law. They will have to weigh very serious charges in an unprecedented case. I wish them all the best.
T.B. in Leon County, FL, writes: I served on a jury about 6 years ago and think some of my experience might bear on some aspect of the forthcoming Donald Trump trial in Miami. My trial was about an abusive boyfriend/ex-boyfriend and his not hearing "no" with regards to his wanting to enter her room (broke door down) and taking her phone to read texts. The crux of the similarity to a possible Trump trial is that one of the State's charges was for a crime that would only be a crime if the boyfriend had known he was breaking the law before the acts he committed in the house (which were quite obviously crimes of passion, not premeditated).
A detail inadvertently blurted out by the prosecution (boyfriend had beat up her younger brother months before) almost caused a mistrial on the spot, and sheds light on what premeditated act he might have been guilty of: violating a restraining order that barred him from the property (my post-trial conjecture). Because we formally did not know of any premeditated criminal act (breaking a restraining order), we could not convict the misguided fellow on one of the charges. For a Trump jury, if all of lawyer #1's summary notes, etc., are prevented from being presented in the trial (you know, lawyer-client confidentiality), the jury instruction might be to rely only on testimony given in court and not to be swayed by any uncorroborated detail in the indictment.
G.V. in Plano, TX, writes: I've had one jury experience. It ended in a mistrial because of a situation that I haven't heard about elsewhere. It's hard to imagine the prosecutors in Trump's case making the same blunder, but... well, you just never know. And the story illustrates one of the weird technicalities that can happen in a real trial.
It was an assault case related to a road-rage incident. A young man thought that a woman had cut him off, so he followed her recklessly for several miles, all the way into a parking lot where he got out of the car and threatened her.
There were two charges: aggravated assault, with a "lesser included charge" of simple assault. The distinction between those two crimes is that aggravated assault requires the use of a deadly weapon; if there's no weapon, it's simple assault. The judge's instructions to the jury were very clear: We had to decide which of the two charges applied, and then we had to vote to convict on that charge and that charge only. In other words, we couldn't vote guilty for simple assault if we were convinced that the attacker had a weapon. I can only assume this was done so that the jury couldn't take the easy way out and settle on the charge that everyone could agree on, so that we could go home early.
All of us on the jury believed that the defendant was guilty of assault. But we disagreed on what kind of assault. Ten of us believed there was a weapon, but there were two who found the testimony about the weapon less than credible. (Also, as I recall, at least one of those two also struggled with the thought of condemning the young defendant to the kind of prison sentence that an aggravated assault conviction would bring. Needless to say, considering such things was definitely a violation of the instructions to the jury.)
We could not reach agreement the first day, so we went home. The next morning it was clear that nothing had changed. The two who did not believe a weapon was involved could not vote for aggravated assault, and it was clear that nothing would persuade them. The rest of us could not vote for simple assault, and the idea of all ten of us changing our minds was laughable. We were back in front of the judge by 9:30 telling him that we couldn't reach agreement, and he declared a mistrial.
The prosecutors asked to speak to any jurors who were willing to answer questions. When we explained, they said that it was their mistake; they believed the testimony about the weapon was compelling and credible, so they gambled that they could get the conviction on the stronger charge. Instead, they got a mistrial where all 12 jurors believed the man was guilty of assaulting a woman. It was very frustrating. I never learned whether there was another trial, but I've always assumed there wasn't.
There's one final, funny addendum. I found the experience so infuriating that on the way home, even though it was mid-morning, I stopped to buy a 6-pack of beer. In the store, I picked up the beer, went to the counter... and the person in front of me in line, also buying a 6-pack at 10:15 in the morning, was one of the other jurors.
M.B. in Menlo Park, CA, writes: I'm a lawyer, and somehow wound up on a misdemeanor criminal jury in L.A. Municipal Court years ago. Relevant to the Trump documents case, in my trial it was clear that the facts in the case weren't really in dispute. The defendant was charged with keeping a loaded gun in his vehicle, and his defense was that the "vehicle" was a van that he lived in (the gun was kept in the living area in the back). The police and the defendant (who took the stand) mostly told the same story. Comparing this to the Trump documents case, note that none of Trump's defenders are arguing that any of the facts in the indictment are wrong.
As a lawyer, I realized that the outcome of my case would be determined by the court's jury instructions about the definition of "vehicle." When we finally heard the instructions, they were a mess. The deliberating jury asked the court to clarify the instructions, and the court didn't (it was obvious to me that the two sides didn't agree on what to do). Absent clear instructions, the jury hung, split about equally for conviction and acquittal.
The Trump documents case might turn on the wording of the jury instructions.
As always, our thanks to these readers! The next several entries in the series will cover the dynamics inside the jury room. Also, if any readers who are not Americans have comments on how their system of justice differs, or how the American system appears from an outside vantage point, we would welcome those. (Z)