The Courtroom is Kryptonite for Trump

What the Manhattan jury can teach us about countering political polarization.

Among the many reactions last week following Trump’s conviction for felony falsification of business records in New York was some amount of surprise that the jury was able to reach unanimity on all 34 counts. Apart from prior speculation that the jury could be split on the charges because some of the checks were paid directly by Trump and others were not, there was also an expectation by some commentators that there could be a lone holdout by a juror sympathetic to Trump, resulting in a hung jury. After all, roughly 10% of registered voters in Manhattan are Republican, so statistically speaking, there had to be at least one juror, if not more, who leaned to the right politically.

But let’s question the underlying assumption. Was it really a foregone conclusion that Democratic jurors would automatically be predisposed to convicting Trump, ignoring evidence that pointed to his innocence? Or that Republican jurors would automatically find some way to rationalize the evidence to exonerate him? The answer is possibly…at least until they entered the courtroom. You’ve probably heard a lot of former criminal lawyers say that they feel that jurors usually take their jobs very seriously, and would be unlikely to be swayed by their political preferences. There are in fact some interesting cognitive dynamics that might explain why strong partisanship among the jurors, even if it existed, wouldn’t play a major role in their decisionmaking as they reached a verdict.

For those who have been taking my Substack class, I’ve covered how a strong group identity, like a political affiliation, can impact behavior. This identity also impacts the ability to process information, a topic I’ll be delving into in more detail in future lessons. For now, the bottom line up front is that high degrees of partisanship can result in directionally motivated reasoning, a form of “mental gymnastics” that causes people to process (or ignore) facts in such a way that reinforces existing loyalties and prior beliefs. Motivated reasoning can be at odds with reasoning based on accuracy, especially if the facts don’t favor your political preferences — do you want to side with your “tribe,” or do you want to get it right? Most people with strong partisan identities would rather be loyal than be right. (Hint: This is why “fact checks” aren’t particularly effective for false beliefs about politically salient issues.)

Everything about the Manhattan case would seem to beg for individual jurors with strong political leanings to engage in directional motivated reasoning — one way or the other — rather than an accurate evaluation of the facts. After all, the defendant himself is the former president, perhaps the most polarizing one we have ever had. On top of that, the facts of Manhattan trial centered around a major polarizing political event — the 2016 election — which would likely trigger people’s partisan identities and preferences even more. Assuming there were jurors on both sides of the political spectrum on the jury, how could they reach unanimity so quickly?

Here’s where the literature gets interesting. Certain psychological factors can reduce the tendency of directional motivated reasoning. One of those is a desire to be a “good citizen,” which can make accuracy — getting it right — more important than staying aligned with political beliefs. As one study explains, this especially impacts the ability to receive and process new information: “When such civic-minded motivations are primed, directional motivations become less salient, making people more willing to adjust important attitudes (including partisan identification!) in response to new information.”

Another factor that can reduce the salience of an individual’s political identity is when they feel identified (even only temporarily) with a “superordinate common group.” What that means is that creating a bond around another group identity — one that doesn’t actually require someone to repudiate or disassociate with their political identity — can make a person feel connected to a broader, more inclusive group. This “supergroup” identification can reduce the tendency to think in in-group/out-group terms, and help make the new group’s values and norms the guiding ones. One interesting Yale study found this approach to be effective in convincing people to get the COVID vaccine: Appealing to an individual’s “community spirit” motivated people who were otherwise vaccine hesitant to get the shot, because they saw themselves doing it for the collective welfare of the larger group to which they belonged.

Both of these dynamics were at play in the Manhattan case, as they likely are in almost any courtroom. Beginning with simply showing up for jury duty, jurors are already in the mindset that they are fulfilling a civic obligation. From there, jurors go through voir dire (jury selection), where they are questioned on their ability to impartially evaluate the evidence presented to them. (Is it possible that a prospective juror lies their butt off with the intention to hijack deliberations days, weeks, months down the line? I guess so, but most people, regardless of political affiliation, think of themselves as honest — and as a result in this context I think they’re more likely to either be forthcoming about their biases, as many of Trump’s jurors were, or will promise that they can put them aside.) And having presented themselves outwardly as “fair-minded,” they will internally strive to live up to this self-conception, if for no other reason but to reduce the cognitive dissonance they would experience if they still consciously allow their political biases to internally dictate their views. In short, every stage of the judicial process — up to and including the judge’s charge to the jury on how to apply the law — primes a juror’s civic-mindedness, making their openness to hearing evidence and desire to reach the correct outcome more important than what their political beliefs might dictate.

The courtroom also invites jurors to identify with a new “superordinate common group,” namely, those who make up the justice system. Jurors are reminded constantly, by the lawyers, judges, and even the gallery of spectators of the crucial and critical role they play in a process much larger than themselves. And, jurors also feel connected to a new social group — their fellow jurors! For anyone who has served on a jury (I have!), enduring the same experience, having informal conversations while you’re waiting, and sharing a common purpose can build a sense of camaraderie and trust. It’s an example of the healthy side “bonding” social capital I’ve described previously, and importantly, creates feelings of specific reciprocity — the desire to give back to the other group members. In a jury setting, this can mean being more willing to listen to others’ views, being open to persuasion, and finding consensus. In short, the norms of the new group make it more difficult to be a lone holdout, as the scene at the top from Twelve Angry Men illustrates. (Great movie, by the way!)

In light of these dynamics, it’s not surprising that Trump detests courtroom dynamics, because they neutralize his Svengali-like, divisive effect on people. But just because the trial is over doesn’t mean that we can’t translate the psychology lessons from the court of law into the court of public opinion as we approach the November election.

First, instead of treating this like any other political horserace with two (opposing) sides, which only plays into tribal loyalties and “us vs. them” thinking, commentators and the media should emphasize the civic principles at stake — things like free and fair elections, the rule of law, a free press, and individual freedom. In short, this isn’t a choice between two parties, but rather a call to action to ensure the continuation of our democratic experiment. Even more importantly, voters’ civic responsibility should be framed as one that unites all Americans, regardless of party: Republicans should know that they don’t have to identify as a “Democrat” to eschew a threat to democracy; we also need Republicans to help uphold our democratic (small “d”) norms. It may be the case that the most extreme MAGAs are a lost cause, but there is at least a subset of politically homeless Republicans who may be more open to arguments that center around common values, rather than partisan identity.

Changing the game means changing the frame. Whatever political differences the Manhattan jurors had in the jury room, they were able to get past them to reach a consensus built on shared principles and goals. There’s no reason the rest of us can’t, as well.