O8| OPINION OTHEGLOBEANDMAIL | SATURDAY,FEBRUARY22,2020
T
welve people, three weeks and doz-
ens of puzzle pieces dumped out in
front of us. The challenge: Figure out
the picture. After a little more than
eight hours of deliberations and countless
additional conversations before then, long
walks in our own heads and sleepless nights,
the picture that was formed was not one we
wanted to see; yet, it was one that needed to
be confirmed. Guilty.
The puzzle pieces, evidence. The 12 people,
jurors. Each one brought their individual per-
spective, insights, expertise, experience and
intelligence. Collectively, we collaborated, ex-
pressed, opined, theorized and ultimately
made evidence-based decisions – beyond a
reasonable doubt – to deliver a verdict.
Jury duty in Canada prohibits us from dis-
cussing the details of deliberation. So I won’t.
But in many ways, the consequence of the
protection that it ultimately affords the citi-
zens who give up their time to serve the
Crown means a lot of unresolved, unarticu-
lated emotions and thoughts that get locked
in our own heads, dying to get out. I’m cur-
rently wrestling with getting those thoughts
out, locked in a box so I can move on. Easier
said than done.
I was foreperson. The way I saw it, it was an
opportunity to put my skills and experience
as a college professor and former executive to
work in a different setting. It also allowed me
to keep my mind focused on an outcome that
was based on evidence and fact (both direct
and indirect), where innocence is presumed
until otherwise proven, based on consent of
the people around the table.
As professors, leading a class, or as re-
searchers, we are in essence working to move
our students along the continuum of learn-
ing that gets them to critically think in a way
that connects disparate pieces of information
to draw a conclusion. Got an idea? Back it up
with evidence to see it through. Got a hunch?
Prove it to me with facts and data. The same
applies in a deliberation room. In some in-
stances, inferences needed to be drawn, con-
nections made, but we did so based on evi-
dence, not on assumption.
As professors, it is also our job to facilitate
different personalities. And in our little mi-
crocosm of a jury, we had a full myriad of
types; each one aiding the problem solving,
each one taking a leadership role or a posi-
tion when they needed to, and when it mat-
tered. But the important thing was that each
one was afforded the opportunity to have
such a role, to be heard and to advocate –
both for themselves and for the victim (and
in some instances the accused), in a safe and
respectful space.
As professors, it is our job to make sure the
quiet one gets to articulate their reasoning
and not be written off as disinterested. They
are being thoughtful, processing and seeing
things that the others who need to talk their
way through their thought process can’t see.
We need to make sure the ones who have a
different opinion can feel safe to express
themselves, demand better answers than
what they are getting and offer their perspec-
tive to the solution process.
We need to allow the ones who want to
hurry up and get it done to feel that there is a
process and that it is moving along, while en-
suring no one is being left behind.
We need to give the ones who need to be an
expert an opportunity to demonstrate that
expertise, yet feel safe when they need to be
vulnerable and admit that they are strug-
gling.
We need to give the ones who seem to be
content to follow the opportunity to speak up
and to assure them that we are moving for-
ward and not back.
We need to be sensitive to the ones who are
more sensitive and give them the space to
catch their breath. We need to hear them and
to support their needs.
Collectively, I have never worked with
such an amazing group of individuals. It was
a remarkable experience, and to those who
instantly design excuses for why they cannot
do jury duty, I urge you to give it a try and
keep an open mind. Sure, I saw things and
heard things that were ripped right out of an
episode of any crime drama you can name.
Sure, this will live with me forever. To this
day, I can’t read a crime novel or watch a
crime TV show. But I’m opting to look at the
positive that this experience brought.
I’m looking at my three weeks with 12 peo-
ple, four lawyers, one judge, several expert
witnesses and one accused as professional
development. A puzzle I was given the oppor-
tunity to solve. It was exhilarating, exhaust-
ing and rewarding. It was also imperfect. Not
all of the pieces fit, not all of our questions
were answered. But in the end, we agreed –
based on fact – on a final verdict. In the end, a
group of strangers worked together and col-
laborated and came to a consensus.
We were thanked by the judge and by the
prosecuting lawyer. My only regret: We left in
a hurry. We hustled out to resume our lives
and get the hell away from the details we
were forced to process, analyze, connect and
conclude. But in the days that followed, I
wanted to reach out to the good people I
spent three weeks with and say, “Thank you.”
“Nice to meet you.” “Great job.”
As a professor, this final step would be the
evaluation. We got an A. Everyone did. In the
business world, ironically, it’s called a post-
mortem. Apt. We did good.Myjuryduty
isover,butI’m
stilldeliberating
inmyhead
DONNALINDELLOPINIONProfessorandformereïecutiveT
he world is filled with gloomy, troubled, occasion-
ally alcoholic, detectives. At least on TV. Most
countries have at least one. They are understan-
dably divorced and the sun rarely shines in whatev-
er country they live and work. They tend to be a bit remote,
harbour a dark secret and have instincts that allow them to
solve cases that baffle others. They have trouble with their
partners (True Detective), see ghosts (River), wonder why
they’re in Belgium (The Break) and brood cinematically (all
of them). They go home after work and drink alone in front
of the TV, possibly watching a show about a gloomy detec-
tive.
Perhaps they have as much trouble as I do keeping them
all straight – was the brilliant eccentric female detective
Swedish? Or is that the New Zealand one? There are shows
that stand out for me –River;seasons 1 and 3 ofTrue Detec-
tive –but many of the rest, some of which I enjoyed immen-
sely, have blurred into one big noir pudding. I didn’t finish
some of them. I drifted away, distracted by something shi-
nier, or I forgot I’d started them.
The Continue Watching for Don file on Netflix is a grave-
yard that holds hundreds of corpses. There are movies that
only got five minutes, series that got half of
the first episode. The titles that crawl by are
sometimes unfamiliar. When I ask people if
they have any Netflix shows to recommend,
I often get vague descriptions rather than a
title. “It’s the one with the unsolved murder
and it’s always raining” or “it has that wom-
an and no one believes her, it’s that actor
from the other one, the British series with
what’s-his-name.” They don’t remember ei-
ther.
There are reasons we don’t remember
what we’ve watched. One is the sheer vol-
ume and arbitrary way we watch. But a Uni-
versity of Melbourne study concluded that
with binge watching, our memory of what we’ve watched
fades faster than it does with weekly viewing. The TV shows
we are watching are making us forget the TV shows we are
watching. Binge watching is defined as three or more hours
at a sitting, and most of us are bingers (75 per cent accord-
ing to the study). Netflix claims that three of four viewers
who streamed the first season ofBreaking Baddid it in one
sitting.
Bingeing is often a solitary activity. While others watch
the same series, we don’t necessarily do it in concert. There
isn’t the reinforcement that existed with weekly viewing.
Back when everyone watchedSeinfeldon Thursday night,
the plot and best lines would be repeated on Friday, ce-
menting them in our memory. The characters became part
of our lives, while binged characters often pass through our
lives in a few days, quickly replaced by others. Nine seasons
ofSeinfeldcrawled by, and 22 years after the show ended we
know the plot lines the way we know the lyrics to Beatles’
songs.
Yet last week’s shows are a blur. The record shows I
watched a few episodes ofHache;nine minutes ofThe Fa-
naticwith John Travolta;The Laundromat(27 minutes); an
episode ofMad MenI thought I hadn’t seen then realized I
had (24 minutes); andThe Two Popes(14 minutes), which I
wasn’t in the mood for, but will watch at some point. There
were others.
There is greater collectivity among younger viewers be-
cause whatever show is deemed hot is spread through so-
cial media. But this collectivity is short-lived. A season can
be devoured in an evening. Then it’s on to the next one, and
the next. The seasons and shows are left behind like dis-
carded fast-food containers. Who remembers what was in
them?
A study at University College London looked at 3,662
adults 50 or older and found that those who watched 3^1 ⁄ 2
hours of TV daily showed a greater decline in verbal memo-
ry. So we’re becoming less articulate as well. Watching TV is
a passive activity that leads to a less-focused brain, whereas
reading or doing a puzzle promotes cognition. This
shouldn’t come as a surprise. But why don’t we finish what
we started?
In an interview, British novelist Ian McEwan said he nev-
er watches more than seven episodes of any TV series. He
thoughtBreaking Badwas a work of genius but still didn’t
watch to the end. He said he lacks persistence, but also said
that in your 60s and 70s (he’s 71) you need to retain a curi-
osity about the world to remain mentally sharp. Television
watching doesn’t qualify. And as we get older, we become
more aware of time and how much is left and how much of
it you want to spend watchingDirty John.I identify with Mr.
McEwan’s viewing habits (although I did binge to the end of
Breaking Bad.O Walter). Limitless choice is another reason
we don’t watch to the end; there is always going to be some-
thing better than what you’re watching. And finally, we stop
watching because we can. Nothing is ever lost. We can al-
ways come back to it. If we can remember what it is we’re
coming back to.
Perhaps not watching to the end is why we
bingers also reported less enjoyment of the
shows we do watch. There are shows I en-
joyed and remember distinctly –Breaking
Bad,The Wire(though still grumpy about kill-
ing off Stringer Bell),Fleabag,Happy Valley,
Catastrophe,Better Call Saul,Babylon Berlin.
But there are other brilliant shows that have
disappeared from my memory.
What makes an impression can now be
measured. There is a new field of study called
neurocinematics, which looks at how TV and
film interact with the brain. Princeton psy-
chologist Uri Hasson examined brain images
using MRI while participants watched different shows. At
the low end, a one-shot video of a Sunday concert in New
York’s Washington Square Park engaged 5 per cent of the
cortex. But a Hitchcock film spanned 65 per cent of the
brain. The concert was an objective event, but Hitchcock
manipulated us, building fear and suspense, creating a
character we’re rooting for and false leads we tentatively
follow. We engage on several levels.
Netflix has tried to measure when exactly we get hooked
on a series. Their chief content officer, Ted Sarandos, said,
“In our research of more than 20 shows across 16 markets,
we found that no one was ever hooked on the pilot.” This
bolstered the argument for releasing a whole season at
once. People lingered, but weren’t hooked – meaning they
watched to the end of the series – until farther in. ForHouse
of Cardsit was Episode 3,Mad Mendidn’t catch on until
Episode 8. ForPretty Little Liarsit was Episode 4. EvenBreak-
ing Bad,with its dazzling pilot, didn’t hook viewers until
Episode 2, when Jesse Pinkman tries to dissolve a drug deal-
er in his bathtub and the whole disintegrating mess falls
through the ceiling.
In the end, we get the television we deserve. “Because
You Watched ...” – this vaguely accusatory Netflix category
is disheartening proof. Because I watched eight minutes of
R.E.D., I deserveThe Expendables 2. If there is a moral centre
to TV viewing, it is found here. You’ve already sinned with
Rush Hour(Jackie Chan), now you have to watchIn Hell
(Jean-Claude Van Damme) as penance. Enter the nine cir-
cles of Netflix at your own risk.TUNEDOUT
PHOTOILL4STRATION:BRYANGEEÖSO4RCEIMAGES:ISTOCKBingeviewinghasshownDonGillmorthatthetelevisionshows
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wontheGovernor-General’sLiteraryAwardforNon-Fiction
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becausewecan.
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