I just got back from six days of Jury Duty. I’m so grateful that my employer supports its
employees that are serving on Jury Duty.
Here in Washington, companies must allow employees to serve, but aren’t
required to pay its employees while they’re on Jury Duty. The current compensation for jurors is $10 a
day, so the fact that Metia pays its employees while they serve on Jury Duty is
just another reason it’s on the list of the Best Places to Work in Seattle.
Something struck me while I was serving last week. The whole process was so counter-intuitive in
the age of social networking.

Cartoon (c) 2009, from Dave Wagner, dotProblems.
First, jurors were selected completely at random, and then
one-by-one, the pool of 50 selected was whittled down to 14, as each lawyer asked
questions pertaining to the case. It
sure seems like the whole process of sitting in a room with 50 people could
have been done using demographic and historical information. The state knows the size of my family, if I’m
involved in law enforcement or have
family that is, and if I’ve ever been a party to a similar case. While not everyone is as “social” as I am
online, they could do a quick Google search to see public information that
could more completely let each lawyer know if I’d help or hurt their chances as
a juror.
Second, as jurors, we had to sit through two and a half days
of testimony, without asking any questions, or giving any feedback. The hardest part was the instruction that we
not talk about the case while we were hearing it, even with the other
jurors. For those days, we had to
listen, we could even take notes, but we couldn’t react, or really process any
information except by ourselves. The
other jurors, even the judge and attorneys were complete strangers, even though
we spent all day with them.
Third, we were sent to the jury room to deliberate. For three days, we poured over the
evidence, and the notes we took, but we were told not to do any research on our
own. We had our cell phones, but we
couldn’t use them to Google information that might have helped (or hurt) our
deliberations. At one point, we were
given an 8-inch thick binder of phone records, but when we asked the court
clerk which numbers were the defendant’s, and which were the plaintiff’s, we
were told “to rely on our memory or notes.”
Frustrating! I felt like I was caught in an episode of Criminal Minds or Law and Order: SVU.
Finally, as the judge dismissed us to deliberate, we were
instructed not to discuss the case with anyone outside of the jury deliberation
room. Every day, he repeated the same
instructions: “Do not discuss the case with anyone outside the jury room, and don’t
use any kind of social media: Facebook, Twitter, or MySpace. Don’t text or Tweet anything.” Funny to hear a robe-frocked judge talking
about “tweeting.” It made me smile every
time. It was so difficult not to explain
anything about the case to anyone. My
kids would ask how things were going, and I had to be vague. I couldn’t even let co-workers know how long
it would be, or whether we thought it would be a day, a week, or a month. As someone used to keeping friends and family updated using Twitter and Facebook, I seemed strangely disconnected about something that I wanted to discuss/debate/decide.
I imagine that the system used by the courts will evolve
over time, but it was clear there is a digital divide. And for the record, we found the defendant not guilty...