The Judicial Machine vs. The Ordinary Person: A Disillusionment with Adversarial Justice
The adversarial system of justice is based on the principle that two opposing sides — the prosecution and the defense — will present their cases to an impartial judge or jury, who will then determine the truth. However, this principle often falls short in practice, revealing significant imbalances that disadvantage the ordinary person.
In a legal battle, the scales are rarely balanced. The prosecution often has superior access to information and administrative resources, while the defense must navigate numerous hurdles to present its case effectively. This imbalance is exacerbated by both sides’ willingness to exploit any opportunity to discredit the other, undermine arguments, and sow doubt about competence. The support of judges, society, the state, public organizations, and the media can further tilt the scales. Mass campaigns can shape public opinion in favor of one side, creating an illusion of competitiveness that sustains faith in the legal system’s effectiveness and fairness.
The reality is that the relationships and strategies of the parties involved shape the power dynamics in a courtroom. True competition is elusive, as the quest for truth and justice often gets overshadowed by the theatrics of legal maneuvering. If the process strictly adhered to the principle of truth-seeking, any intrigue or uncertainty would dissipate. Yet, this rarely happens.
The mere act of being accused places a significant burden on the defendant. They must hire a capable defense team, often at great personal expense, to counter the prosecution’s efforts. To ensure balance, a state-supported defense service should not only provide legal representation but also conduct independent investigations to gather evidence in favor of the accused.
Comparing the resources allocated for prosecution with those available for defense reveals stark inequalities. In one story “Kill the Dragon,” a law signed 300 years ago by the dragon permits townspeople to assist anyone challenging the dragon without fear of retribution. Yet, the townspeople provide the knight Lancelot with a blunt paper-cutting knife, symbolizing the inadequate tools given to defendants facing the judicial dragon.
For true fairness, each investigator should have an “anti-investigator,” equally funded by the state, with the same authority to gather exonerating evidence. This anti-investigator should not be limited to investigating the specific charges against their client but should also have the power to probe all aspects of the case, including the actions of investigators and judges. This approach would expose corruption and nepotism, necessitating an independent body to oversee the justice system to avoid personal biases and conflicts of interest.
Even the best lawyer is handicapped without evidence. Therefore, in complex legal battles, defense lawyers must often hire private detectives and experts to gather evidence, further straining the defendant’s resources.
Critics may argue that creating an anti-investigation system is irrational and inefficient, advocating for swift trials instead. However, swift judgments risk compromising justice. Eliminating trials altogether in favor of immediate punishment is the most efficient but unjust solution, highlighting the flawed principles underpinning the current system.
Without genuine conditions for anti-investigation, the principle of equality before the law is a farce. Trials occur only when the accused pleads not guilty, claiming innocence. Courts profess impartiality, but ancient laws like Hammurabi’s placed accountability on the accuser, risking the same punishment if the accused was found innocent. This concept could be modernized by holding investigators, prosecutors, and judges accountable for wrongful convictions.
Many believe that most defendants deny guilt to avoid punishment, undermining the presumption of innocence. Even if a defendant is guilty, as depicted in Albert Camus’s “The Stranger,” the judicial process can be inherently flawed. In the novel, the protagonist Meursault’s failure to cry at his mother’s funeral leads to a death sentence, showing how superficial judgments can overshadow true justice.
Humans can rationalize any injustice, masking it as fairness. The golden rule, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” often gets lost in the judicial process. All participants are human, susceptible to ending up on the defendant’s bench.
The judicial machine thrives on maintaining a facade of fairness, often at the cost of compassion and understanding. It reflects society’s sublimation of its own desires and fears, prioritizing institutional goals over individual well-being. This system, designed to intimidate, functions like a pagan temple with secret chambers and idols, accessible only to a select few.
Jurisprudence has become a caste, often standing above the law and justice it administers. It wields immense power, shaping lives and destinies based on its internal logic and priorities. The system’s complexity and opacity serve to maintain its dominance, deterring challenges from those it subjugates.
Ultimately, the judicial system, in its current form, perpetuates inequality and serves as a tool for those who can manipulate it. It is less about achieving justice and more about sustaining its own existence and authority, often at the expense of the very people it is supposed to protect.
