Jurors coming from the general public and all walks of life do not reason through problems and issues the way that lawyers and judges do. That is why I used to diligently hone and maximise my linguistic intelligence, after which I used to focus that same energy and effort on developing emotional intelligence.
Emotions are as valid and important as logic. In fact, when attempting to persuade non-lawyers, emotions are typically far more important. I've learnt that effective oratory skills often mean explaining or subtly revealing the emotions and motivations of the characters within the trial case. Emphasising emotion helps the jury place individual witnesses into familiar narrative roles like the antagonist, mentor, henchman and the like, and, in this manner, information is better received when it is presented to the jury in a familiar story format.
Apart from oratory skills, as a former public prosecutor, I learnt that body language is another essential element that can reap dividends. Proper body language is essential. How you present yourself in front of the court and jury can make or break a case. Are you smiling? Are you making eye contact?
Body language also goes hand in hand with how comfortable you are speaking in front of an audience. If you're nervous, you might be playing with a loose thread on your sweater, swaying side to side, or even standing perfectly still.
None of these nervous habits ever did me any favours. Plus, body language that suggests you're anxious or uncomfortable can actually harm your credibility during a trial by jury. Standing up straight portrayed confidence even if, occasionally, I didn't feel that way.
Strategy plays an important part, too. With each passing trial by jury in which I prosecuted, I learnt that for any trial I had to be prepared, organised, clear, connected with the jurors, open, vocal and, above all, myself.
Preparation required that I devote the necessary time to learn and be familiar with the evidence and all relevant material. This would enable me to know what I am talking about.
Preparing my witnesses was just as crucial for me as understanding the case details. I used to conduct extensive briefing sessions to ensure they knew what to expect in court, focussing on demystifying the process to alleviate anxiety.
It was in me to help them refine their testimony, teaching them how to convey their statements clearly and confidently. This preparation helped prevent potentially damaging inconsistencies and ensured that their testimonies supported the overall case narrative.
Organising and presenting evidence effectively was another vital aspect of my pre-trial preparation. Strategising the best ways to introduce evidence ensured that each piece served a specific purpose in constructing a compelling narrative for the jury. Consequently, I would be ready for whatever challenges may arise during the trial.
The organisation involved me in presenting the evidence and material in conformity with a chronological timeline of events to enable a structured and comprehensible argument.
Jury selection is a pivotal phase where strategic court trial tactics come into play, significantly influencing the trial's outcome. I had the habit of briefly vetting potential jurors, as it could be an opportunity to shape the jury to be as favourable as possible to my case. This required a deep analysis of the case's themes and deciding what type of juror was likely to respond positively to those themes.
The nuanced work of jury selection and delivering impactful opening statements should be ingrained in any prosecutor aiming to leave an impact.
Experience showed me that, to be clear, I didn't have to use big words. Speaking slowly and in an audible voice ensured that the jurors not only understood what I was saying but also that they could follow me and my argument.
I reckon that, sometimes, jurors would discern that I was somewhat nervous, but they also knew that I had information that they didn't have and that I was the only person to provide them with that information.
I also learnt that having a heart is one of the most important qualities of a prosecutor.
As with everything in life, balance was the key. There were times when I had to be strong and tough when I had to hold people accountable for serious crimes, making sure that public safety was protected, even at the cost of being the unpopular voice in the courtroom.
Yet, generally, I used to work to make sure that the system was fair and that I did all I could to turn around the lives of those who had committed crimes.
In one particular case where a young accused was indicted for his father's murder, the resulting facts during the trial were such that I couldn't but empathise with him, even though he was found guilty of wilful homicide. During the trial, and from evidence tendered by the accused himself, his siblings, his mother and other witnesses for the defence, a picture of extreme, cruel and often barbaric, patriarchal dictatorship emerged.
I think that I must have been the first prosecutor in Maltese history that directed the jury to recommend the son found guilty to the mercy of the court by invoking Article 484 of the Criminal Code.
The camaraderie I enjoyed at the Attorney General's Office was the strongest and most rewarding that I've experienced in my life. Prosecutors learn the system together, acquire trial skills together, and face notorious defence attorneys and difficult judges together. They regale each other with stories of victory and defeat, of justice and injustice. They rely on each other to navigate impossible trial schedules or bounce back from errors. They are in it together.
Recent attacks on the credibility and motivations of some present-day public prosecutors are deeply upsetting, and I know that it is bringing more stress to an already stressful job.
This is why I wish them well.
(Part I was published last Sunday)
Dr Mark Said is a lawyer