Friday, May 1, 2026
Page 9
In My Opinion
12 Ordinary People: The Heart and Humanity of Jury Duty
By Tony Bell
(The writer is a public relations consultant. He became press deputy to then-Los Angeles County supervisor Michael D. Antonovich in 2001, then served as communications director for current Supervisor Kathryn Barger from 2016 until his retirement from county service in 2020. He was assistant chief deputy for 15 years.)
Check the mailbox. There it is: the dreaded summons. Cue the groans and eye-rolls! First thought: how can I get out of this? What excuse can I come up with? If I just ignore it, will it go away? I’m so busy with life and family and work. I just can’t drag myself downtown to sit for hours in a fluorescent box with the other poor souls who also haven’t figured out how to get out of jury duty.
Along with taxes and death, jury duty sits near the top of the list of certainties to be avoided in American life.
And then the big question: How did I get called? In anticipation of Juror Appreciation Week, a bit of info: despite your friends’ insistence that the system is rigged, the truth is that jurors are picked randomly using a combination of voter registration, DMV, and state taxpayer records.
★
My number was the very last called to leave the assembly room. I will certainly get booted – or so I figured. Wrong. Jury selection takes forever. Then suddenly, my number’s called.
“Please take a seat in Row 2. Raise your hand to be sworn in.”
And, just like that, I’m now one of 12 jurors who, over the next four weeks, will be ordered to make one of the most impactful decisions of our lives.
Sure, the process is laborious. The courthouse is old and drab. Food options are dismal. The elevators are crowded and slow. The attorneys can be long-winded and witnesses repetitive and awkward. And the paltry daily stipend doesn’t much help. Here comes the plea for reform.
The “One Day or One Trial” rule implemented in the late 1990s was a game changer. But little has changed since then and much more could be done to improve convenience, make the hours fit our schedules, use technology more effectively, and even produce a public outreach campaign with public service announcements to help dispel some of the universal hatred for the process.
★
Deliberations were surprisingly productive—and these 12 individuals, ripped from our respective and very disparate lives to do this vital job, worked well together. Thoughtful and considerate, each rose to the task. We followed our instructions and made the decision–and we knew it was right, fair and just. Not easy, but fair.
The weight of this had serious consequences. We sat with that fact silently for what seemed like hours until the buzzer summoned us to take our seats in court for the last time.
The crowded courtroom was silent as the verdict was read—but erupted as the consequences of our actions became clear and dramatic. As a group, we carried that weight—not proudly, but purposefully. Not one of us escaped that. In a few short minutes, we were thanked by the judge, escorted out and left to make our way home—most likely never to meet again.
★
But for those hours and days, we were bound as solemn seekers of truth—and in that final moment, defenders of justice.
The next day, 12 more strangers will be empaneled to make these life-changing decisions, and 12 more the next day, and so on.
Because 12 ordinary people sacrifice some of their time and convenience, the very heart of the American justice system beats—and beats strongly. I doubt any of us will ever forget this experience, and the day that dreaded summons appeared in the mailbox.
Copyright 2026, Metropolitan News Company