News (Media Awareness Project) - US TX: Column: Conscientious Objectors in the War on Drugs |
Title: | US TX: Column: Conscientious Objectors in the War on Drugs |
Published On: | 2011-04-25 |
Source: | Houston Chronicle (TX) |
Fetched On: | 2011-04-26 06:01:45 |
CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTORS IN THE WAR ON DRUGS
Monday I attended a fascinating three-hour seminar on how Houstonians
feel about the justice system in general and the war on drugs in particular.
No, it wasn't at a university. It was in the windowless, 18th-floor
courtroom of District Judge Jeannine Barr.
I was one of 60 Harris County citizens auditioning for 12 slots on
the jury that would pass judgment on a man charged with the
first-degree felony of possession between 4 and 400 grams of cocaine
for purposes of distribution.
My first impression was that 60 was a large pool for what appeared to
be a low-grade felony. But as it turned out, the defense attorney and
the prosecutor worked their way through 55 of us before agreeing on
12. Since each of them was able to dismiss up to 10 without offering
any reason, at least 23 of us were dismissed for cause, mainly
because one side or both believed we couldn't be fair.
How did they know?
Because by my count about 20 prospective jurors told them so.
The procedure involved first the judge, then the prosecutor, then the
defense attorney explaining a few facts about the case, some judicial
principles and the role of the jurors. Then they asked whether any of
us had a problem with being fair.
Some of the responses were predictable and understandable.
One woman said her niece is a heroin addict and her feelings about
drugs were so strong she couldn't be fair to the defendant.
Two or three people indicated they believe race plays an
inappropriate role in drug prosecutions, so they couldn't be fair to
the prosecution. The defendant was black.
One or two said they couldn't be fair to the prosecution because they
had friends or relatives who they felt had been unfairly prosecuted.
But some of the responses took me by surprise.
"I was in the 182nd Airborne, and I know that if we wanted to win
this war we could," said one man. "But too many people are making
money off of it."
"I'd love to sit down and have coffee with that guy just to pick his
brain," said Aaron Burdette, the tall, youthful prosecutor on the case.
No Role in Sentencing
Under questioning by Burdette, several others said they believed the
war on drugs wasn't worth the expense and collateral damage it causes.
Most interesting to me were the four or five people who said they had
problems with being told the judge would determine the sentence if
the defendant was found guilty.
"If I don't get a say in the sentencing then I will hold the
prosecutor to a higher standard," said one. Others agreed.
Apparently these were people who think drug sentences have gotten out
of hand. The defendant was facing five years to life if convicted.
Burdette said he hears concerns about not being part of sentencing in
every jury pool where the defense has chosen to let the judge rather
than the jury decide the sentence.
A few other prospective jurors said they would have a hard time
believing the defendant was innocent if he exercised the right not to
take the stand.
"If I'm innocent, I'm going to get up and say so," said one.
Burdette said one thing he didn't hear in this case that he usually
does is the feeling that if the guy hadn't done something wrong he
wouldn't have been indicted.
Those who spoke up seemed very sincere in assessing their ability to
be fair. My impression was that few if any were simply trying to stay
out of a trial that was expected to last three days. Burdette agreed
with that assessment.
20 Percent Object
But the overwhelming message was that about a fifth of the pool
couldn't in good conscience take part because they found fault with
the way the justice system deals with drug offenders.
They were, in effect, conscientious objectors in the war on drugs.
And Burdette, who has been handling felony drug cases for two years,
said our pool wasn't unusual.
And what happened? The jury, without me (I don't get to know who
struck me or why), found the defendant guilty of possession, but not
of intent to distribute. The second-degree felony carries a penalty
of two to 20 years. Barr will determine the punishment after hearing
from both sides on Wednesday.
Monday I attended a fascinating three-hour seminar on how Houstonians
feel about the justice system in general and the war on drugs in particular.
No, it wasn't at a university. It was in the windowless, 18th-floor
courtroom of District Judge Jeannine Barr.
I was one of 60 Harris County citizens auditioning for 12 slots on
the jury that would pass judgment on a man charged with the
first-degree felony of possession between 4 and 400 grams of cocaine
for purposes of distribution.
My first impression was that 60 was a large pool for what appeared to
be a low-grade felony. But as it turned out, the defense attorney and
the prosecutor worked their way through 55 of us before agreeing on
12. Since each of them was able to dismiss up to 10 without offering
any reason, at least 23 of us were dismissed for cause, mainly
because one side or both believed we couldn't be fair.
How did they know?
Because by my count about 20 prospective jurors told them so.
The procedure involved first the judge, then the prosecutor, then the
defense attorney explaining a few facts about the case, some judicial
principles and the role of the jurors. Then they asked whether any of
us had a problem with being fair.
Some of the responses were predictable and understandable.
One woman said her niece is a heroin addict and her feelings about
drugs were so strong she couldn't be fair to the defendant.
Two or three people indicated they believe race plays an
inappropriate role in drug prosecutions, so they couldn't be fair to
the prosecution. The defendant was black.
One or two said they couldn't be fair to the prosecution because they
had friends or relatives who they felt had been unfairly prosecuted.
But some of the responses took me by surprise.
"I was in the 182nd Airborne, and I know that if we wanted to win
this war we could," said one man. "But too many people are making
money off of it."
"I'd love to sit down and have coffee with that guy just to pick his
brain," said Aaron Burdette, the tall, youthful prosecutor on the case.
No Role in Sentencing
Under questioning by Burdette, several others said they believed the
war on drugs wasn't worth the expense and collateral damage it causes.
Most interesting to me were the four or five people who said they had
problems with being told the judge would determine the sentence if
the defendant was found guilty.
"If I don't get a say in the sentencing then I will hold the
prosecutor to a higher standard," said one. Others agreed.
Apparently these were people who think drug sentences have gotten out
of hand. The defendant was facing five years to life if convicted.
Burdette said he hears concerns about not being part of sentencing in
every jury pool where the defense has chosen to let the judge rather
than the jury decide the sentence.
A few other prospective jurors said they would have a hard time
believing the defendant was innocent if he exercised the right not to
take the stand.
"If I'm innocent, I'm going to get up and say so," said one.
Burdette said one thing he didn't hear in this case that he usually
does is the feeling that if the guy hadn't done something wrong he
wouldn't have been indicted.
Those who spoke up seemed very sincere in assessing their ability to
be fair. My impression was that few if any were simply trying to stay
out of a trial that was expected to last three days. Burdette agreed
with that assessment.
20 Percent Object
But the overwhelming message was that about a fifth of the pool
couldn't in good conscience take part because they found fault with
the way the justice system deals with drug offenders.
They were, in effect, conscientious objectors in the war on drugs.
And Burdette, who has been handling felony drug cases for two years,
said our pool wasn't unusual.
And what happened? The jury, without me (I don't get to know who
struck me or why), found the defendant guilty of possession, but not
of intent to distribute. The second-degree felony carries a penalty
of two to 20 years. Barr will determine the punishment after hearing
from both sides on Wednesday.
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