“Do any of the jurors have any personal dealings with any of the defendants?” Grant asked. The jurors shook their heads.
Grant needed to give the jury instructions. He thought he’d keep it simple because that’s all they needed. “Ladies and gentlemen, the defendants are presumed innocent until proven guilty. We’re serious about that. Listen to the evidence. You must find the defendants guilty beyond a reasonable doubt to convict. A reasonable doubt means there is a reasonable way the evidence you hear does not establish they did it. It must be a ‘reasonable’ doubt—not that space aliens did something. But if it’s reasonable, and it’s a doubt, the person cannot be convicted. All twelve of you must agree on guilt to sustain a conviction; if one of you isn’t convinced, then the defendants cannot be found guilty. Do you understand your instructions?” They nodded. Then one raised her hand.
“Do we decide the sentence or do you?” the juror asked.
Grant was truly making this up as he went. He thought a while. Under the old government justice system, the judge decided the sentence. There were even sentencing guidelines that took away almost all of a judge’s latitude. That was a joke—some bureaucrats deciding the sentences for people in all cases. This was Grant’s chance to inject a little freedom back into the system, even if it was only the system for a few hundred people out at Pierce Point.
The decisions you are making are bigger than Pierce Point. Decide wisely.
Well, if he was creating a template for the future, Grant thought, then he better inject as much freedom as possible. He wanted jurors, regular people in the community, to have as much power as possible. The old system let the judge have enormous power. They decided what the jury heard, which often meant whether a person was convicted or not.
Before the Collapse, many judges had become distant from the people. They feared and loathed the people, especially as the government started unraveling right before the Collapse. Many judges thought that “militia whackos” were out to get them. These “whackos,” however, were anyone questioning what the judges were doing, even when they peacefully and respectfully questioned the judges. Grant had been in court before the Collapse and seen a person merely asking a judge why a particular law did not apply in her case, only to have the judge motion for the armed bailiffs to escort her out.
Before the Collapse, courtrooms started to feel like bunkers protecting the judges, not places where the public settled disputes based on fair and established rules. Courthouses were no longer the people’s building where the public’s business was conducted, but rather a place where the government reluctantly let the public in under guard so the government could do what it wanted. Many judges would not involve the public at all if they could find a way to get away with it.
But the whole point of trials and a justice system is to let the community control things, and to see what is happening to people. The judges work for the public, not the other way around. Trials and a justice system exist to carry out the community’s goals of a fair and predictable way to punish crime and decide civil disputes. It’s not for judges to run everything.
In that moment, Grant decided to come up with a better system. He answered the juror’s question by saying, “If the jury decides guilt, then the judge will provide a suggested possible range of sentences based on other cases. Now, since this is our first case and we don’t have any prior cases to base decisions on, I won’t be able to do that. But I will suggest a range in this case, anyway. The jury then decides the sentence. The jury’s sentence will almost always end up being the final sentence. However, the judge will have the power to not accept the jury’s sentence, but only in the most extreme cases. I stress that the judge changing the sentence will be very rare. It’ll happen only when justice requires it, like if a juror shows favoritism or even if there is bribery or threats against a juror. Or, if a jury imposes too harsh a sentence, like execution for petty theft.”
“But,” Grant continued, “There is a check on the judge, too. The judge is elected by the people and can be recalled at any time, so if the judge does something unjust, the people can remove and replace him or her. Quickly.”
There, Grant thought, as he leaned back in his chair. Plenty of checks and balances. Primary power was with a representative sample of the people with a check by an elected official, but with the people having ultimate control over that elected official. That’s how it should have been with the government system all along, but it didn’t turn out that way. Now was the chance to reset things. To fix them.
The jurors nodded, followed by many in the audience. Grant had come up with a good, fair, and simple system. He was the right person, in the right place, at the right time to be coming up with these things.
“Is the prosecution ready to proceed?” Grant asked.
Chapter 151
The Trial Proceeds
(June 6)
“Yes, your honor,” Rich said. “The prosecution is ready to proceed.”
It seemed a little artificial for Rich to talk to Grant that way, but he wanted to be as official as possible. People’s lives were at stake, after all, and he wanted the residents to see and feel that they had a real justice system.
“Pardon me,” one of the jurors said. He was a Baby Boomer-looking guy who was a “cabin person.” Grant recognized him as one of Snelling’s followers. Great.
Grant hadn’t wanted to tell Ryan to only pick people who agreed with him because that wasn’t a jury of the defendants’ peers. Now he was kind of wishing he had.
“Back to that part about us not agreeing with the law,” the juror said. “What if we don’t agree that you are carrying out real laws?”
Not this again, Grant thought. He realized that, despite last night’s vote, there was still a divide out at Pierce Point. He also knew he had to play the hand he was dealt.
“A fair question,” Grant said. He was trying to remember who this juror was; he was blanking on his name. He remembered that he was a soft Snelling supporter, not a loud one.
“If the jury believes that the law is unjust, or in your case, I guess, the law is non-existent, then the jury can find the defendant not guilty,” Grant said.
“So, if it takes all twelve of us to convict,” the juror said, “if only one of us disagrees with the law then they’re not guilty?”
“C’mon!” someone in the audience yelled. “You guys lost the vote. Let’s get on with it.”
Grant put his hand up to the person who yelled. “No, the juror makes a good point.” Grant realized he had an opportunity now to show the audience, and especially the soft Snelling supporters, how fair and just the Patriot system was.
“A single juror preventing us from convicting someone is one of the great strengths of this system,” Grant said to the juror. “It’s a magnificent way to protect liberty and I’m proud we have it here.”
The juror, who was polite and thoughtful, said, “Thank you. That answers my question.”
Grant was ready to proceed. He had a bad feeling that this trial was going to be a waste of time because the Snelling juror would just vote to acquit the defendants. But oh well. A trial is a process – a political process, in this case, to show the residents how fair the new system is. Even if it means dirt bags going free. Besides, Grant thought to himself, if the defendants went free, one of the residents would probably “accidentally” shoot Frankie.
“Do the defendants have counsel?” Grant asked, knowing the answer. Ronnie shook his head. The others didn’t respond.
Grant looked at Rich and said, “Please state the charges.”