Jury duty

Jury duty has become a cliche, and not without good reason. It's like the winning the lottery in reverse every few years when that white envelope from the county courthouse arrives notifying you that you're being ordered to have a long boring day. And you'd damn well better be there when they tell to be there or you face the possibility of a fine, or even run the risk of the deputies coming to pick you up. Who wouldn't resent that?

I'm no different than anyone else in this regard, and when I got that white envelope, I opened and quickly scanned through the part where it talks about exemptions, hoping against hope that I could claim one. No dice. Then I began thinking. I've never been on a jury before, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to be picked for one. The mere thought of playing a part in deciding someones fate became a real rush for me (and a somewhat unwholesome one at that, now that I think about it), and I began looking forward to today's trip to the courthouse.

I could give you the coffeehouse creative writing take on the day, but why stretch it out? The short version is that this holiday week has a less hectic court schedule, so they let a fifth of the 500 people called in for the jury pool go early by late morning and I was one of them. It was nice to have the rest of the day to myself, but as you can gather from my earlier statements, I was a little disappointed.

Having gone this experience again, it's caused me to reflect and ask, why isn't there a better way to do this? No, no. I need to rephrase that. Why isn't it being done a better way?

Yeah, I get it, I know how the system works. Hundreds of people get called for various cases about to be heard, and all but a fraction of the time, the case doesn't even make it to opening arguments because one or both of the lawyers are playing chicken and hopes to get a better bargain from the other side. So, basically, out of 500 or so people, only maybe 50 (if that even) actually hear a case. The result? A normal person's day is wasted. The lawyers, judges, and bailiffs are paid to be there, so they're not out anything.

My solution? The same computer that picks a random group for the general jury pool can do the same thing, but will instead pick smaller groups for specific court cases. A person chosen for jury duty will arrive in the morning outside of the courtroom, where court proceedings will begin immediately, not some big hall to wait for hours in uncomfortable chairs and fathomless boredom. Any plea deal must be made the day before, and posted to a Web site so potential jurors will know they don't have to show up. If a plea is made after that, the side that initiated it pays each member of the jury pool $100, and considering the pool for the average case is 40 or so, I don't think you'd see the same kind of foolishness that you do now.

And you don't like that plan, I'll see you in court.