David Lammy’s proposal to do away with jury trials for all but the most serious offences has a consequence which hasn’t so far been aired in national debate. It could deprive me of the chance to bang up some evildoer. Whoops! Saying that probably won’t help me realise my ambition. I think it was the wonderful Mary Killen who once suggested to an anguished correspondent, worried that his holiday would be ruined after being selected for jury service, that he write to His Majesty’s Courts and Tribunals Service saying pretty much what I have just said. In return, she wrote, he should expect a letter informing him that actually he wouldn’t be needed after all.
But Gawd, have I been waiting a long time. It is 41 years ago that I first became eligible for jury service. I have had plenty of friends who have had their day in court, a cousin who has done it twice. But me? Not a sniff. True, the reality would almost certainly be a disappointment. I’m not going to be sending the Kray twins down, or packing Ruth Ellis off to the gallows. It is far less likely to be an ‘orrible murder than an incompetent household burglary or a case of a glassing in a grotty pub in Romford.
It is also true that for much of my career a call-up for jury service would have come with a financial hit. It is one thing being called up to serve if you are an employee who will continue to receive your pay and pension contributions; quite another if you were self-employed and find yourself having to sit through months of evidence in a miserable fraud trial. The longest in British history lasted 20 months. Both defendants were jailed but arguably the greater punishment was handed out to members of the jury, several of whom later reported that they had struggled to incorporate themselves back into their careers, having missed out on promotion. The worst thing would have been sitting through that and not even being able to write it. Revealing what goes on in a jury room is strictly verboten.
Even so, I do often wonder: what is wrong with me? Is it something that I said, or wrote? I feel I have been labelled a less than good-and-true citizen. Every time I watch a courtroom drama I itch to be there. And of course, in the age of woke it does rather set the mind racing: have I been rejected for being too white and male while the courts seeks more ‘diverse’ juries?
Every time I watch a courtroom drama I itch to be there
HMCTS insists that the selection for jury service is entirely random. So what chance of reaching the age of 59 with never being called to serve? According to HMCTS, 197,007 people served on a jury in 2023. With a population of around 44 million people in the eligible age range of 18 to 75 it means that the probability of being called up in that, or in any other, year is 0.0045. Or, if you prefer, the probability of not being called up for jury service in any one year is 0.9955. Multiply that by itself 40 times and there is only a 17 per cent chance that someone my age would have been called. By the time I reach 75 that will have risen to 23 per cent – or rather it probably won’t if the justice secretary has his way.
OK, so I needn’t feel too paranoid about not being called for jury service. In fact, I should feel more aggrieved that none of the £5 worth of Premium Bonds my family bought me at birth has ever yielded a shilling in prize money. But still, I would like to see some evidence that my name really is being spun around in HMCTS’s equivalent of ERNIE. I’ve got my toothbrush and prejudices packed in a bag and I’m all ready to go.
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