The defendant was charged with obtaining a passport by improper means. Because of his lack of education and different cultural background (he was from India), I thought it plausible that he hadn't understood that he was doing something illegal. I was frustrated that most of the jurors couldn't or wouldn't make the mental effort to place themselves in his shoes. The domineering foreman (who nominated himself before we had even sat down) kept on repeating that we should make a judgment based on what any reasonable person would have thought. I countered that the judge had specifically told us that we had to determine what the defendant, not the mythical reasonable man, had thought or believed. At least the foreman, and three or four others, understood and responded to my argument. The rest seemed bored and unbothered, or made irrelevant comments about the burden of illegal immigrants on the NHS and the fact that "he shouldn't have been here in the first place". One woman spent more time having cigarette breaks outside than she did around the jury table. The general mood was that we had better reach a consensus soon so that everybody could go home.

Perhaps I objected only to this general lack of interest because I was disputing the majority viewpoint on tricky grounds. One of the few people who agreed with me did so mainly because she thought the judge's summing-up was slanted towards a not guilty verdict. Privately, I thought she was wrong and that in any case jurors aren't supposed to find according to what they believe the judge thinks. But with only one other person on our "team" and the judge having told us he would accept a majority verdict of 10-2, I wasn't about to say so. When it came down to it, I felt obliged to argue strongly for my viewpoint, based no doubt on my own prejudices, against those strongly arguing for theirs. I didn't persuade anybody to agree with me who hadn't in the first place. But because nobody changed any of their minds either, it was a hung jury (9-3 in favour of guilty). It is now up to the Crown Prosecution Service whether to hold a new trial.

In my experience, a jury's deliberations consist of rational discussion of the evidence, reiteration of people's first instincts, and half-remembered phrases from TV. In one case, 11 of us frustratedly grappled with a man who insisted that he wasn't convinced "beyond all doubt", despite strong forensic evidence. We struggled to explain to him the difference between beyond all reasonable doubt and beyond all possible doubt whatsoever. 

The jury system is expensive and involves a lot of hanging around. But the fact that the prosecution has to persuade at least 10 out of 12 lay people, rather than one judge, places the burden of proof much more firmly on its shoulders. Even when I disagreed with my fellow jurors, I felt that the majority had more empathy with the defendant than anybody wearing a wig did. Judges may be experts in the law, but the average juror's life experience is a lot closer to that of the person in the dock. The provisions of the Criminal Justice Act are sensible, but it is right to keep a firm check on how it is used. Having served on one, I would certainly prefer to be tried by jury — especially if there was somebody like me on it.