Unlocking the jury box.
Amar, Akhil Reed ; Amar, Vikram David
The Founders of our nation understood that no idea was more central
to our Bill of Rights--indeed, to government of the people, by the
people, and for the people--than the citizen jury. It was cherished not
only as a bulwark against tyranny but also as an essential means of
educating Americans in the habits and duties of citizenship. By enacting
the Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Amendments to the Constitution, the
Framers sought to install the right to trial by jury as a cornerstone of
a free society.
Today that cornerstone is crumbling. In recent years, a parade of
notorious criminal trials has called into question the value of citizen
juries. The prosecutions of Oliver North, O.J. Simpson, William Kennedy
Smith, the Menendez brothers, and the assailants of Rodney King and
Reginald Denny have made armchair jurors of millions of Americans. Now
the failings of the system seem obvious to anyone with a television:
In search of "impartial" jurors, the selection process
seems stacked against the educated, the perceptive, and the well
informed in favor of those more easily manipulated by lawyers and
judges. Attorneys exercising their rights to strike candidates from the
pool cynically and slyly seek to exclude jurors on the basis of race,
gender, and other supposed indicators of bias.
Courts subject citizens to repeated summonses, intrusive personal
questioning, and long and inefficient trials. Unsurprisingly, many
citizens avoid jury duty.
In court, jurors serve a passive role dictated by rules that presume
jurors are incapable of impartial deliberation and that provide little
help in understanding points of law or evaluating testimony.
The public perceives that the scales of justice tip in favor of rich
defendants with high-priced counsel.
More than a million Americans serve as jurors on state courts each
year. Jury service offers these Americans an unequaled opportunity to
participate democratically in the administration of justice. But on its
present course, this vital egalitarian institution may shrivel up,
avoided by citizens, manipulated by lawyers and litigants, and ridiculed
by the general public. To be sure, the system has inherent limitations;
"correct" verdicts cannot be guaranteed. But given the
jury's present form, society is bearing the costs of a jury
system's vices without enjoying a jury system's virtues. Our
task is to demonstrate why the citizen jury is worth defending, and to
propose a number of specific reforms designed to restore the jury to its
rightful status in a democracy under law.
A Cornerstone of Democracy
The Framers of the Constitution felt that juries--because they were
composed of ordinary citizens and because they owed no financial
allegiance to the government--were indispensable to thwarting the
excesses of powerful and overzealous government officials. The jury
trial was the only right explicitly included in each of the state
constitutions penned between 1776 and 1789. And the criminal jury was
one of few rights explicitly mentioned in the original federal
constitution proposed by the Philadelphia Convention. Anti-federalists
complained that the proposed constitution did not go far enough in
protecting juries, and federalists eventually responded by enacting
three constitutional amendments guaranteeing grand, petit, and civil
juries.
The need for juries was especially acute in criminal cases: A grand
jury could block any prosecution it deemed unfounded or malicious, and a
petit jury could likewise interpose itself on behalf of a defendant
charged unfairly. The famous Zenger case in the 1730s dramatized the
libertarian advantages of juries. When New York's royal government
sought to stifle its newspaper critics through criminal prosecution, New
York grand juries refused to indict, and a petit jury famously refused
to convict.
But the Founders' vision of the jury went far beyond merely
protecting defendants. The jury's democratic role was intertwined
with other ideas enshrined in the Bill of Rights, including free speech
and citizen militias. The jury was an essential democratic institution
because it was a means by which citizens could engage in
self-government. Nowhere else--not even in the voting booth--must
Americans come together in person to deliberate over fundamental matters
of justice. Jurors face a solemn obligation to overlook personal
differences and prejudices to fairly administer the law and do justice.
As the great historian of anti-federalist thought, Herbert Storing,
put it, "The question was not fundamentally whether the lack of
adequate provision for jury trial would weaken a traditional bulwark of
individual rights (although that was also involved) but whether it would
fatally weaken the role of the people in the administration of
government."
Perhaps most important was the jury's educational mission.
Through the jury, citizens would learn self-government by doing it. In
the words of Alexis de Tocqueville, "The jury is both the most
effective way of establishing the people's rule and the most
effective way of teaching them how to rule."As Tocqueville
explained:
"Juries, especially civil juries, instill some of the habits of
the judicial mind into every citizen, and just those habits are the very
best way of preparing people to be free. . . . They make all men feel
that they have duties toward society and that they take a share in its
government. By making men pay more attention to things other than their
own affairs, they combat that individual selfishness which is like rust
in society. . . . [The jury] should be regarded as a free school which
is always open and in which each juror learns his rights, . . . and is
given practical lessons in the law. . . . I think that the main reason
for the . . . political good sense of the Americans is their long
experience with juries in civil cases."
Once we see how juries serve as major avenues for popular education
and political participation, the connections early American observers
drew between jury service and other means of political
participation--especially voting--make more sense. Tocqueville keenly
understood these linkages: "The jury system as understood in
America seems to me to be as direct and extreme a consequence of the . .
. sovereignty of the people as universal suffrage. They are both equally
powerful means of making the majority prevail. . . . The jury is above
all a political institution [and] should be made to harmonize with the
other laws establishing the sovereignty. . . . For society to be
governed in a settled and uniform manner, it is essential that the jury
lists should expand or shrink with the lists of voters. . . .
"[In general] in America all citizens who are electors have the
right to be jurors."
We have come to think of voting as the quintessential act of
democratic participation. Historically, the role of the people in
serving on juries was often likened to the role of voters selecting
legislative bodies, and even to the role of legislators themselves.
Indeed, the jury's place in the judicial framework was closely
related to the idea of bicameralism: Just as the legislature comprised
two equal branches, an upper and a lower, juries and judges constituted
the lower and upper branches, respectively, of the judicial department.
The Supreme Court has reinforced the linkage of jury service and
voting as part of a "package" of political rights. For
example, in a 1991 case challenging race-based exclusions in jury
selection, Justice Anthony Kennedy observed in his majority opinion that
"with the exception of voting, for most citizens the honor and
privilege of jury duty is their most significant opportunity to
participate in the democratic process. . . . Whether jury service may be
deemed a right, a privilege or a duty, the State may no more extend it
to some of its citizens and deny it to others on racial grounds than it
may invidiously discriminate in the offering and withholding of the
elective franchise."
Later in the same term, Justice Kennedy again invoked the similarity
between jury service and voting, observing that just as government
cannot escape from constitutional constraints by farming out the tasks
of administering elections and registering voters, neither can it evade
constitutional norms by giving private parties the power to pick jurors.
The link between jury service and other rights of political
participation such as voting was also recognized and embraced by the
drafters of the Reconstruction amendments and implementing legislation,
and still later by authors of various 20th-century voting amendments.
For example, the framers of the Fifteenth Amendment, which prohibited
race- based discrimination in voting, understood well that the voting
they were protecting included voting on juries. That amendment, drafted
and ratified in the 1860s, proved to be a template for later amendments
protecting women, the poor, and the young from voting discrimination.
Justice's Weak Link?
The weaknesses of jury trials are sometimes ascribed to the mediocre
capacity of ordinary citizens to adjudicate matters of law and fact in
an increasingly complex society. It is true that jurors will not always
decide "correctly,"intelligence and common sense to decide
questions of fact and value in the courtroom. The problem is that we
rely too little. The jury is crippled by constraints imposed by the
court professionals.
In the era of the Founders, the jury was no more egalitarian than was
suffrage, limited by race and sex and by tests of personal traits
thought necessary for judging cases. Over two centuries, even as the
right of jury service was gradually extended to all citizens of voting
age, the freedom of jurors to participate in the finding of fact in the
courtroom was constricted. Contrary to the spirit in which the jury
trial was woven into our constitutional fabric, judges and lawyers have
aggrandized their own roles in litigation at the expense of the jury.
The deepest constitutional function of the jury is to serve not the
parties but the people--by involving them in the administration of
justice and the grand project of democratic self- government. Alas, over
the years, the search for adversarial advantage by attorneys won out
over the values of public education and participation.
Judges, charged with protecting these enduring constitutional values,
have at times done just the opposite in order to maintain their control
over trials. The jury was to check the judge -- much as the legislature
was to check the executive, the House of Representatives to check the
Senate, and the states to check the national government.
It is not surprising that we--as jurors, as citizens--have not fought
off these creeping assaults. The benefits of jury service are widely
dispersed--they redound to fellow citizens as well as the individual
jurors. But the individual juror bears all of the cost--the hassle, the
inconvenience, the foregone wages--of jury service.
If the jury system is to remain a central institution of democracy
and citizenship, it must be refined. Jury trials must attract engaged
and thoughtful citizens; the rules of the courts must treat jurors as
sovereign, self-governing citizens rather than as children. To this end,
we suggest a number of reforms. In many instances, these changes would
require no new laws, but merely a willingness on the part of the courts
to unleash the common sense of the ordinary citizen.
I. Respect jurors
First, we must try to design the system to welcome jurors. All too
often they are mistreated by the trial process, forced to wait in
cramped and uncomfortable quarters while the judge and lawyers question
jury candidates, who are often dismissed from selection without
explanation. We should use juries to reconnect citizens with each other
and with their government. After serving on a jury, a citizen should, in
general, feel better--less cynical, more public-regarding--about our
system.
II. Make juries more representative
Earlier in the nation's history, juries were impaneled under the
elitist principle that only the propertied or the highly educated
possessed the habits of citizenship needed to serve well. Now that we
know better, it is perverse that professional and literate citizens
often are exempted or struck from the jury pool. When juries produce
stupid verdicts, it is often because we let interested parties pick
stupid jurors in stupid ways. It is a scandal that only those who had
never heard of Oliver North were permitted to judge him. Now that we
have ceded so much control over trials to the court regulars, this
shouldn't come as a surprise-- it is akin to letting lobbyists
hand-pick candidates for office.
A juror should have an open mind but not an empty mind. We must
empower juries in ways that make them more representative and less
vulnerable to encroachments of the judicial professionals, without
turning them into professionals themselves.
Limit peremptory challenges. By and large, the first 12 persons
picked by lottery should form the jury. The jury - - and not just the
jury pool summoned for each case--should be as representative of the
entire community as possible. Peremptory challenges (a device that
allows lawyers to remove a specified number of jurors from the panel
without having to show "cause") should be eliminated; they
allow prosecutors and defense attorneys to manipulate demographics and
chisel an unrepresentative panel out of a representative pool. Juries
should represent the people, not the parties.
Consider the analogies outlined earlier. Our society does not let an
individual defendant hand-pick the legislature to fashion the norms
governing his conduct; or the prosecutor who pursues him; or the grand
jury that indicts him; or the judge who tries him; or the appellate
court that reviews his case. We do not set out--and we'll resist
the temptation to wisecrack--to pick the most stupid people imaginable
to populate our legislatures or our judiciary. And we are especially
uneasy about depriving citizens of the right to vote on the basis of
discretionary criteria that may mask racial or sexual stereotyping.
Some major arguments have been advanced to support peremptories.
First is the idea of legitimacy: The parties will respect a decision
reached by a body they helped to select. But what about the legitimacy
of verdicts for the rest of society--We, the people, whom the jury
system is supposed to serve? After all, the parties regard the trial
judge, the appellate court, the legislature, and the grand jury as
legitimate, even though the defendant didn't personally select any
of them or exercise any peremptory challenges. In the name of principle,
the court professionals are merely disguising a power grab at the
expense of the jury.
Second, some argue that peremptories allow counsel to probe jurors
with incisive questions during the selection process to unearth
"cause" to remove particular jurors. Lawyers need peremptories
to vigorously exercise this right, the argument goes, lest they offend a
juror for whom no provable grounds exist for a "for cause"
dismissal. Our response to this is that "for cause" dismissals
should be limited; jurors should not have to recuse themselves by
different criteria than do judges. If "for cause" challenges
are restricted, the prophylactic argument for peremptories collapses.
The Supreme Court has made clear that no constitutional right to
peremptories exists: They are a relic of an imperfectly democratic past.
At the Founding, we suspect, peremptories were exercised mainly as a
polite way of dismissing folks with personal knowledge of the parties.
In a homogeneous jury pool, peremptory challenges would rarely skew the
demographics of the eventual jury. But to vindicate the Fifteenth and
Nineteenth Amendments, we must close off attempts by lawyers to exploit
race and gender in jury selection in a way that deprives some citizens
of their right to participate as democratic equals.
Jury pay. We should pay jurors for their time. Payment at a fair,
flat rate will permit a broad cross section of society to serve. Our
analogy to a bicameral legislature suggests that payment is appropriate,
for judges and legislators are paid for their time. To decline to
compensate citizens for their sacrifice--or to pay them a token $5 per
day as is done in many California courts--is in effect to impose a
functionally regressive poll tax that penalizes the working poor who
want to serve on juries, but who cannot afford the loss of a week's
pay. Payment should come from the government, not private employers. All
jurors are equal as jurors, and should be paid equally: One person, one
vote, one paycheck.
III. Restore the notion of duty
Jury service is not only a right, but also a duty. Few of us have
militantly insisted that we perform this obligation, just as few of us
insisted in the last 30 years that we pay our fair share of the
intergenerational tax burden. The Economist reports that half of all
Californians called for jury duty in the state's criminal courts
ignore the summons. Citizens should not escape so easily.
Few exemptions. Exemptions from service should be extremely limited:
If you are the brother-in-law of the plaintiff, you may be excused; but
you may not be excused merely because you happen to read the newspaper
or work in a profession. The idea of the jury is rooted in equality;
just as all defendants are treated equally before the law, all jurors
have equal claims as well as obligations to play a part in the
administration of justice. This measure would expand the size of the
jury pool, enforce the universality of required service, and raise the
average education level of juries.
Yearly service. The Swiss defend their country with a citizen militia
that regularly requires a citizen to serve a periodic stint of active
service. Similarly, we should ask each citizen to devote, say, one week
a year to jury service, depending on the needs of his or her
jurisdiction. Each citizen could register in advance for the week that
is most convenient, and except for genuine emergencies, citizens should
then be obliged to serve when their turn comes. Courts should be willing
to provide professional day care or day-care vouchers to enable
homemakers to take their turns in this project in collective
self-governance.
Enforcing the duty. And how should this obligation be enforced?
Progressive fines are probably the best option. If you miss your week,
you should pay two weeks' salary. (Flat fines, by contrast, would
be functionally regressive and create incentives for highly paid
citizens to dodge service.) If for some reason fines didn't work,
perhaps we could consider a more radical recoupling of jury service with
voting: If you want to opt out of the responsibilities of collective
self-government, fine--but you may not then exercise any of its rights.
You may choose to be a citizen, with democratic rights and duties, or a
subject, ruled by others. On this view, you are not entitled to vote
outside juries if you are unwilling to serve and vote inside juries. If
you are not willing to engage in regular focused deliberation with a
random cross section of fellow voters, you should not be governing the
polity, just as you may not vote in the Iowa presidential caucuses
unless you attend and hear the arguments of your peers.
Serial jurors. Each jury, once constituted, should be able to try
several cases in a row. If you can hear four quick cases in your week a
year, so much the better. The grand jury reviews more that one
indictment, the judge sits on more than one case, and the legislature
may decide more than one issue in a session. The quality of
deliberations is likely to improve with practice. The burden of jury
service will be more evenly distributed--one week for everyone--and more
trials can take place if we get rid of all the wasteful preliminaries
like elaborate jury questioning and peremptories. Indeed, perhaps a jury
should hear both civil and criminal cases in its week. One week a year
will not turn citizens into government bureaucrats, though it will give
them regular practice in the art of deliberation and self-government.
IV. Free jurors to do their jobs
Juries today are often criticized for reaching foolish decisions. But
it's not all their fault. Nothing is more important to fulfilling
the democratic aims of jury service--including just outcomes--than
active participation by the jurors. Over the years, the court
professionals have conspired to strip jurors of their ability to
evaluate the facts. Running the courtroom to maximize their own
convenience, they have often slighted the jury's legitimate needs
to understand its role, the law, and the facts. The bicameral analogy is
instructive: Would we expect the House of Representatives to perform its
duties competently if its access to information and ideas were entirely
determined by the Senate?
Taking notes. Many judges do not allow jurors to take notes. This is
idiocy. Judges take notes, grand jurors take notes, legislators take
notes--what's going on here? This prohibition is based on the
misguided beliefs that note-taking distracts jurors from the testimony
and that deliberation would be unfairly dominated by jurors with
extensive records. Neither fear outweighs the benefit of giving jurors
the means to highlight key evidence and keep track of their impressions,
particularly in long trials.
Plain-English instructions. Judges should give the panel, at the
outset of a case, the basic elements of the charged offenses--in
English, not legalese--so jurors can consider them and check them off in
their notebooks as the trial unfolds.
Questioning of witnesses. Jurors should be allowed to question
witnesses by passing queries to the judge. This allows jurors to pierce
the selective presentation of facts offered by counsel, and it also
keeps jurors more attentive to proceedings. Best of all, it would expose
any lingering confusion about testimony in the minds of the jurors,
giving prosecutors and defense counsel the chance to address these
concerns. Consider, for example, the possibility that each of the jurors
in the O.J. Simpson trial had a different pet theory of police
conspiracy. If each juror could submit questions, prosecutors would have
had an opportunity to understand, address, and debunk many of these
mutually inconsistent and factually insupportable theories.
Discussion among jurors prior to deliberation. A ban on such
discussion assumes that jurors are superhumanly capable of suspending
all judgment for days or weeks and that conversation can only
contaminate their faculties. Common sense suggests that it is human
nature to form provisional judgments; at least by discussing a case
prior to deliberation, jurors can test each other's impressions of
the evidence and begin to hone their understandings of key points before
these points are lost in the rush of the proceedings. Such a reform
must, of course, be accompanied by reminders from the judge that jurors
may not reach final conclusions about guilt or innocence until they have
heard all the evidence.
Support staff. We should allow juries to hire support staff when it
is necessary. In a world of increasing complexity and specialization of
labor, few can do an important job well without such help. If
legislators and judges can have staffs, why not grand juries? We
trivialize jurors when we insist that they alone remain trapped in the
18th-century world of generalists. Perhaps every court should hire a
permanent staff with undivided loyalty to the jury itself, and subject
to "term limits" to prevent the staff from entrenching itself
and using the jury to advance its own agenda.
V. Avoid hung juries
When hung juries occur, mistrials waste the time and resources of all
concerned. They even harm defendants in cases where the jury was leaning
toward acquittal, because a mistrial allows a vindictive prosecutor a
second bite at the apple. All this brings us to another
controversial--and we admit extremely tentative--suggestion. Perhaps,
just perhaps, we should move, even in criminal cases, away from
unanimity toward majority or supermajority rule on juries. Founding
history is relatively clear-a criminal jury had to be unanimous. But
this clear understanding was not explicitly inscribed into the
Constitution, and the modern Supreme Court has upheld state rules
permitting convictions on 10-2 votes. (England today also permits 10-2
verdicts in criminal cases.)
Three arguments support our suggestion that nonunanimous verdicts
should be upheld. First, at the Founding unanimity may have drawn its
strength from certain metaphysical and religious ideas about Truth that
are no longer plausible: to wit, that all real truths would command
universal assent. Second, most of our analogies tug toward majority
rule--used by legislatures, appellate benches, voters, and grand juries
-- or supermajority rule: In impeachment proceedings, for example, a
two- thirds vote in the Senate is required for conviction.
Last, and most important, all our other suggestions lead the modern
American jury system away from its historical reliance on unanimity. At
the founding of our nation, unanimity within a jury was nestled in a
cluster of other rules that now must fall. In early days, blacks, women,
the poor, and the young were excluded from voting and jury service.
Peremptory challenges probably made juries even more homogenous. But now
that all adult citizens may serve on juries, and we have eliminated all
the old undemocratic barriers, preserving unanimity might also be
undemocratic, for it would create an extreme minority veto unknown to
the Founders.
Even at the Founding, unanimous jury verdicts may have existed in the
shadow of a custom of majority or supermajority rule. Jurors would
discuss the case and vote on guilt; and even if the minority were
unconvinced about the verdict, they would in the end vote with the
majority after they had been persuaded that the majority had listened to
their arguments in good faith. This custom bears some resemblance to
legislative "unanimous consent" rules. A single lawmaker may
often slow down proceedings--force her colleagues to deliberate more
carefully on something that matters to her--but in the end she may not
prevent the majority from implementing its judgment. Perhaps the same
should hold true for juries.
In allowing juries to depart from unanimity, we must try to preserve
the ideal of jury deliberation and self-education. Jurors should
communicate with each other seriously and with respect. Fans of
unanimity argue that it promotes serious deliberation--everyone's
vote is necessary, so everyone is seriously listened to. But unanimity
cannot guarantee mutual tolerance: What about an eccentric holdout who
refuses to listen to, or even try to persuade, others?
Nonunanimous schemes can be devised to promote serious discussion.
Jurors should be told that their job is to communicate with others who
have different ideas, views, and backgrounds. Judges could also advise
jurors that their early deliberations should focus on the evidence and
not jurors' tentative leanings or votes, and that they should take
no straw polls until each juror has had a chance to talk about the
evidence on both sides.
We suggest a scheme in which a jury must be unanimous to convict on
the first day of deliberations, but on day two, 11-1 would suffice; on
day three, 10-2; and so on, until we hit our bedrock limit of, say,
two-thirds (for conviction) or simple majority (for acquittal).
VI. Educate the People
Once we start thinking about the jury from the perspective of
democracy rather than adjudication - from the viewpoint of the citizenry
rather than the litigants--other possibilities open up. Recall
Tocqueville's description of the jury as a "free school . . .
always open" to educate the people in citizenship. If this is the
big idea, why not take advantage of new video technology to advance it?
Think of how C- SPAN broadcasts of legislative debates and hearings have
contributed to the education of the public. The courts could likewise
tape jury deliberations for use as high-school teaching materials about
democracy in action (perhaps delaying the release of sensitive cases).
Of course, we would have to ensure that these records would not be used
to impeach jury verdicts.
Let the Changes Begin
The vision we have sketched is a demanding one. Yet many states are
already taking up the challenge, enacting reforms by statute or by court
policy. The court system of New York state is mulling over reforms to
make the experience of serving more efficient and convenient for
citizens, and many states already have a one-day, one-trial policy. New
Jersey and New York last year joined the 25 or so states that eliminate
exemptions based on profession. Arizona is the leader in endorsing
proposals, such as note-taking and questioning witnesses, to increase
jurors' participation in the process. Oregon and Louisiana allow
nonunanimous verdicts in some cases, and Arizona allows a jury to ask
the lawyers to explain evidence again if it has reached an impasse in
deliberations.
But much more needs to be done. Until America's state and
federal judicial systems live up to the ideals embedded in their
founding documents and learn to trust the capacity of ordinary citizens
to dispense justice, a cornerstone of democracy will continue to
crumble. Akhil Reed Amar is Southmayd Professor of Law at Yale Law
School. Vikram David Amar is Acting Professor of Law at the University
of California at Davis and a visiting professor of law at the University
of California at Berkeley. For citational support and further discussion
of the themes addressed in this article, see Vikram David Amar,
"Jury Service as Political Participation Akin to Voting,"
Cornell L. Rev. 203 (1995) and Akhil Reed Amar, "Reinventing
Juries: Ten Suggested Reforms," U.C. Davis L. Rev. 1169 (1995).