If a restriction on jury trials is going to be seriously suggested by serious people in serious circumstances then let’s get real.

A little thread

I’m a lawyer (sorry) so I’ll first hit you with some figures. I’ve been reading some spreadsheets. Hold onto your hats.

Circuit Judges are a good place to start. They are a type of Judge who would try lots of these trials.

Of those who answered the question about ethnicity in the July 2019 statistics - and, in fairness, not everyone answered - 4% of Circuit Judges were from a BAME background.

There’s a spreadsheet you can read. Which I did.

Of the Circuit Judges who answered the ethnicity question, 12 said they were Asian or Asian British, 5 said they had a mixed ethnicity and 4 said they were from another ethnic group. 3 said that they were Black or Black British.

Not 3% (of those who answered).

3 Circuit Judges (of those who answered).

You could fit them in a car.

You’ll want to contrast that against the *over* representation of minority ethnic groups in the Criminal Justice System. The latest figures suggest minority groups are over represented at the following stages:

* stop and search
* arrest
* custodial sentencing
* prison population

The lay magistracy - who it is suggested would sit with a judge in pairs - is more racially diverse. Which is, I suppose, a start.

However - uh oh - 84% of them are *over* the age of 50.

Magistrates can be appointed from the age of 18.

Do you know how many are under 30?

1%

Please don’t get me started on how many defendants are aged between 18-29.

And don’t *ever* get me started on how many under 18s - children - end up in the Crown Court.

There are more spreadsheets.

I’ve read them.

In Northumbria, the stats show there wasn’t a single magistrate under the age of 30 when the figures were reported. Not one.

(As an aside - young people, please apply to be Magistrates).

So I’ve hit you with the stats. But why does it matter? It matters because when I represent someone from a minority background or a young person or both they (regularly) see a Judge who doesn’t look or sound like them.

“Will the Judge get it?” I’m often asked. They’re asking will the Judge understand the choices I made, the phrases I use, my social media posts, the things we do where I live, the challenges I face, the norms of my age and my community.

Will they get it? Will they get me? Will they get this? Is this fair? Does it look fair? Does it *feel* fair?

And I always say the same thing. “The Judge doesn’t get to decide - the 12 voices on the jury decide.”

And then the Judge tells everyone that Judges don’t get to decide.

“There are 13 judges” they tell juries. “You 12 are the judges of the facts. And I’m the judge of the law.”

12 voices. 12 experiences. 12 opinions and journeys and bruises and lessons and everything a human picks up along the way.

*Those* are the qualifications needed to judge other humans. Not law degrees and enthusiasm.

It’s often not a perfect mix. But it is always the better one.

Juries can judge facts. They can spot a liar and they hate liars. They can hear honesty in the heartbreak, in the ferocity, in the silence. They sometimes hear stories so raw, so painful that the room reels - they can barely bring themselves to listen, to judge. But they do.

And as we search for who can best assess the honesty, the desires, the wants, the greed, the motives of fellow humans - we don’t need to look much further. This, the most human task of all, should not be professionalised or restricted.

Not for expediency.

Not for a backlog.

As far as defence briefs go - this could be our most important. Lawyers of the future will ask what we did, what we said when they suggested eroding it. For those of us holding this crumbling, miserable system together - the jury trial is the only glimmer. Let’s keep it shining.

Stats here: https://www.judiciary.uk/publications/judicial-diversity-statistics-2019-2/