A different kind of listening

Well it is over a year since I first introduced this blog and I note that it hasn't gone very far. I could claim a full and crazy life but laziness is mostly to blame.

In recent months I have been on a sabbatical from the Crisis Line. This was forced upon me by having the dubious honor of being selected to form part of a jury in a complicated lawsuit against several defendants. I can say no more about the case as the law prevents me from discussing the issue until it is concluded. I can say, however, that the whole experience has been highly educational and has led me to view our society in a different light.

At this time I can say that being a juror has given me an entirely different perspective on the act of listening. Indeed, the primary occupation of the juror, while in the service of the court, is to listen, and listen hard.

First, one must listen to the highest power, the judge. His instructions are paramount and guide us in what we can accept as evidence and what we cannot. These instructions start from the word 'go' in an obligation not to discuss any elements of the case and to avoid all articles of news surrounding the case. It sounds pretty simple, eh? Don't investigate, don't converse; a wall is being constructed around us where only the court evidence can be admitted. As the case continues we are constantly reminded of this admonition and like children in the classroom,we respectfully obey. The judge wears a black gown very similar to that worn by my teachers back in the 70's and at times I am transported back to that time. It is this world that we occupy and it is in this world that the juror seem to regress. More on this later.

The next major listening exercise is the one where we hear the lawyers in their opening arguments. They are like leading speakers in a debate of national importance. They appeal to our logic and sometimes to our sensibilities. They try to explain "reasonable doubt" and how the evidence will prove their view. The opening arguments are quick and without incident; they set the stage.

On comes the first witness. It is all new and quite exciting. Many people occupy the court. Who is this person? What do they know? When, why and how? These are the questions that are posed and their answers are dutifully recorded by us, the jurors. We listen intently, not to respond, empathize or comment, just to record and evaluate. Like an amateur investigator without a voice, I absorb the information not knowing ahead of time what might and what might not be important. Sometimes a witness can give very pertinent testimony and sometimes it can just be preliminary, to prove the experience or reliability of something that will be produced in evidence later. Often, it can be boring and I want to stand up and object, as the lawyers sometimes do, to the relevance or more likely the cumulative or repetitive nature of the questions posed by litigator. Often counsel will try to argue a point through questioning of the witness; they might say the opposite of what they know the witness believes just to sow doubt and confusion in the juror's mind. This is completely verboten.

Many things in court are forbidden. The rules are strict and sometimes intrusive. Jurors are protected and nurtured and, to some extent, controlled. Court rises when we enter and when we leave. Focus must only be on the case and minds must be tuned only to such things that the court produces. Outside, jurors must carry on their normal lives and not consider the case, and certainly not discuss it. Talking to staff within the court building is vehemently discouraged and cameras in the halls and lobbies are used to monitor this. If a juror has a question about the proceedings or even a personal issue that could affect the schedule of the court then a letter must be written out and passed to the judge through the deputy. The judge may then answer to the whole jury or invite the juror to come into the court alone. But the court is never empty - far from it; the judge, deputies, officers, lawyers, defendants, translators and recorders are all on hand to hear it all. It can be quite an intimidating audience.

Back to the witnesses. They come in a steady stream, each scheduled precisely and orderly, first by the prosecution and then later, much later, by the defense. Every morning we enter the court room and it is as if nothing has changed. Everyone is in their places, wearing different clothing, recycled as the weeks go by. It is slightly eerie, a feeling of deja vu but entirely explainable. My sense is that maintaining a constancy is an objective of the court to promote a serious focus and quell distraction. Anything abnormal, said or otherwise, is often met with sniggers and at times universal laughter. Like the discharge of a pressure release valve, the emotion flows and then stops. Back to the case; always the case.

There are witnesses who provide testimonies about specific, isolated events. For some, these events will remain prominent memories in their lives, for others just another episode in a familiar story. Some witnesses stay for days at a time as they regurgitate stories, incidents and admissions. All are of course, sworn in and by threat of purgatory that they are held to their words. To tell the whole truth and nothing but the whole truth, so help me. It is interesting to observe the witness while he replies to these words and then to follow him, to see if he will knowingly disobey. Certainly the atmosphere in the court is highly conducive to extracting the truth and every effort is made to keep it that way. At times, the judge will step in to chide a witness who uses such words as 'I think' or 'it was like'. He only wants to hear exact replies where there is no room for misinterpretation. The double-negative question the judge can not abide and the lawyers, for their part, will be severely admonished for this. On occasions the lawyer will annoyingly ask for confirmation on an answer by asking "Are you saying no because you don't know or do you know it is not true?". It can make for a slow and wearisome morning.

Listening without personal interaction is tiring. It really is like going back to school but made more arduous by the fact the that parties are actively trying to control your interpretation. To counter this are the core instructions that the judge gives the jury. As a computer programmer, I liken these instructions to the logic that must be applied in coming to a verdict; the evidence is the data and the jurors are the machinery, the CPUs, if you like, that process the instructions. The selection of the jury, therefore, is extremely important and a part of the whole science. Like a systems engineer would select the right hardware for a job, the jury is likewise selected, though the parameters are more difficult articulate.

Evidence provides differing sizes of peek holes into events that happened some years previous and the instructions serve to include those peek holes with varying degrees of weight.