A 1966 shooting and a 2007 death
I recently had the pleasure of doing some pro bono work on a criminal trial that had quite a bit of exposure in the media. The case involved a police shooting on Nov. 27, 1966, and I was working with the defense. On that day in 1966, the defendant, William Barnes was in the process of trying to rob a beauty supply store. He was approached by a young, rookie cop, Walter Barclay, who was all of 23. Barnes shot Barclay twice, rendering him paraplegic.
Fast forward. Walter Barclay died of sepsis caused by a urinary tract infection (a known complication of paralysis) in 2007. Barnes, who had been arrested, tried and convicted for causing Barclay’s injuries in 1966 was arrested again. This time for murder. What the jurors had to decide was whether the shots fired in 1966 were the cause of Walter Barclay’s death more than 40 years later. The prosecution had to show an unbroken causal chain of events from the shooting to the death. The jurors were not told that Barnes already served a jail sentence for the original shooting because the judge ruled that this was irrelevant to the question of cause. Cause was cause.
The Opening
There were enough lessons learned in this case for many columns, but one stood out above the rest. It came from the prosecutor’s opening. At the beginning of the trial, the prosecutor stood up and told the story of the shooting that happened on November 27. “On November 27, William Barnes shot Walter Barclay.” She repeated the date, just as written, several times. Notice anything missing? In the entire prosecution opening, not once did she mention the year. Not once.
I am quite sure that her intended message was that the year did not matter. Whether the death happened a minute later, a week later, a year later, or forty years later, if Barnes caused the death, it is murder. But she didn’t say that. She just left out the year. Instead of the intended message, the message that came across was that the prosecution was willing to withhold important parts of the story (because whether or not the prosecution thought the year was relevant, the jurors most likely did) in order to make their case.
As someone who does work primarily in the civil litigation arena, this process was fascinating to me and certainly reinforced some key strategic principles that apply to all cases. Whenever making your arguments it is rarely helpful (I actually can’t think of any instances when it would be, but I never say never) to withhold key pieces of information that the other side will bring out. It unfailingly rubs jurors the wrong way and leads them to lose trust in you. Also, when you are going to take strategic risks, make sure those risks pass “the Doberman test.” It is a simple test in which you critically assess the strategy to make sure it will not come back to bite you in a very uncomfortable place. Even if you don’t have the resources to mock try a case, share the strategy with colleagues, your mother in law, anyone who may be able to see the strategy from a different perspective. If you are going to take these kinds of risks, you have to be sure they are going to work. In this case, the omission in the opening set a tone for this trial. One that, coupled with the myriad medical documents and intervening car and wheelchair accidents that jurors decided “broke the chain” of causation, the prosecution could not overcome. Verdict: Not guilty.
A Side Note
On a side note, after the trial was over, I watched a clip of an interview Seth Williams gave on Good Day Philadelphia about this trial. To my dismay, Williams accused the jurors of not attending to the evidence, but giving a verdict based on the fact that William Barnes was an old man. I watched it twice. Yes, I heard it right.
This jury, full of educated and articulate people (I know because I helped select them) took a week out of their lives for this trial. They sat and paid attention to every piece of testimony and listened carefully to both sides’ openings and closings (I know because I watched them). They could have come to a quick verdict on a Friday afternoon, but chose to come back the next Monday to give themselves more time to go through the evidence and come to a thoughtful decision (I know, because I waited for that verdict), and as a result, they are accused of making a decision based on the fact that Barnes was old? I watched it a third time. Yup, he said it.
As a jury consultant and juror advocate, I think that it is important that we show that we value and respect jurors’ decisions, even if we don’t like the decision made. Going on television and making such an accusation sends the citizens of this community a message that their work as jurors is only valued when they make a decision that our DA likes. I think Williams owes each and every one of those jurors an apology. Yup, I said it.
Melissa M. Gomez is a jury consultant and owner of MMG Jury Consulting LLC. She holds a Ph.D. in psychology from the University of Pennsylvania. Her experience includes work on close to 200 jury trials in Philadelphia and across the country, with a focus on the psychology of juror learning, behavior and decision-making. She has more than a decade of expertise in research design and methodology, as well as in behavioral and communication skills training.
This posting is for general informational purposes only and should not be construed or interpreted as advice specific to any matter. Each case is different and no strategy applies uniformly to all.
If you have any questions regarding jury psychology that you would like to see addressed in this blog, please contact Gomez at melissa@mmgjury.com or call 215-292-7956.
Melissa M. Gomez, Ph.D.
MMG Jury Consulting, LLC
www.mmgjury.com
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