Wednesday, 15. April 2009, 19:17:33
I put a man in jail yesterday.
I had some help. There were eleven other jurors, a judge, some sheriff's deputies, and so on.
Although it was a simple case, the trial kept reminding me of the circuitous double-crossing and justified universal paranoia of A Scanner Darkly. The only witnesses at the trial were referred to as "Special Agent [number]" and "Confidential Informant [number]." The law enforcement people involved worked for the "County Narcotics Agency," a body I'd never heard of.
The defendant was accused of trafficking a ridiculously small quantity of drugs, about one gram of cocaine in all. Yet it seems likely he will spend more than a year in prison for a crime that did not shed any blood or cheat anyone of property. It's clear (in part from his own admissions) that he's no kingpin; he seems to be a drug user who sold small amounts to his friends to support his own habit. Unfortunately, his friends turn out to be the sort of people who would sell him to the cops for a miserable US$50.
There are probably thousands more hapless drug abusers just like him, ready to fit right in to the gap he'll leave behind. The remedy of putting him in prison will likely remedy nothing at all, and the whole stupid, sordid little play will unfold again and again, possibly even with the same cast. "Special Agent [number]" claimed to be involved in a few hundred similar cases every year.
It's no fun to watch a person's face as they hear the news that they have been found guilty as charged and are going to prison. Back to prison, as it turned out in this case. I guess it would be even worse to watch a first-timer.
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