I&#x27;ve served on two juries, one for murder and one for a far lesser offense.  In one the defendant was a fairly wealthy young man; in the other a poor woman.  One defendant was guilty; the other not.<p>My experience in both those trials was nothing like the author&#x27;s here.  Indeed, I wonder how much of his experience was due to his own concern about things like race and politics instead of, y&#x27;know, guilt and innocence.  Perhaps had he not been looking down on his colleagues and arguing from emotion, but rather from facts, he could have convinced them to find not guilty.<p>In both cases, we started with a preliminary vote.  In both cases, we argued <i>cordially</i>, with a deep and abiding interest in justice and what the right thing would be.  We took turns arguing against our own positions, in order to try to better discover the truth of the matter.  We were scrupulous in our decisions, and I feel confident we chose correctly both times.<p>Both experiences were profoundly inspiring.  I&#x27;d do it again in a heartbeat.<p>As an aside, I won&#x27;t claim that the author is lying, because this may vary from state to state, but after both of my cases the judge and both sides of lawyers came in and spoke with us, asking questions about the case and our decisions; there was no notion of post-decision jury confidentiality the author alludes to.<p>Also, we were intructed in both cases to use our life experiences, not ignore them as the author indicates.  Again, this may vary from state to state.  Suffice it to say that the system the author depicts is not the one I experienced twice.