I have had mixed outcomes in respect of jury service (Letters, 23 August). A friend of mine rang me in the late 1990s to ask if I knew of an excuse that might exempt him from such a task. We were drinking buddies and so I guessed that if he claimed he was an alcoholic it might do the trick. Surprisingly, it did and he was never troubled again. At around the same time I received a jury summons and, being a retired member of an organisation that had publicly been deemed institutionally racist, I thought it unfair for my alleged tendencies to be tested on defendants, and asked to be excused. The reply ordered me to attend the court and appear before a judge in chambers. Wigless, and with only the clerk for company, the judge asked why I thought I was racist. I told him of my antecedents and confirmed that I found some racist jokes funny, particularly one involving a plane crash in Dublin. I was directed to recount it. He seemed mildly amused and said: “I’ve heard a lot funnier than that. See you on Monday morning.” I duly attended and was involved in only one case, involving a female Irish victim. We found the female English defendant guilty.
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