Photo: Eduardo Munoz/Reuters
Quick, no Googling: What is the name of the CEO who was shot dead on the street in Manhattan last week? I'll be honest. I've been describing this case since it happened, and even I had to take a quick look at it. (It's Brian Thompson.)
Okay, what's the shooter's name? You understood it immediately, right? Luigi Mangione. (Yes, it's in the headline above, but you knew it anyway.)
Mangione committed a brazen, underhanded murder on an innocent victim he had never met and who never saw it coming. He shot a 50-year-old man in the back, leaving a wife without a husband and two children without a father. By any rational calculation, he is a grotesque villain. I'll spare you any more sermons. Actually it's not complicated.
Nevertheless, this murderer seems to have become the subject of widespread public infatuation. You've probably seen the memes and social media posts and I'd rather not promote them any further. To cut to the chase, affection for this guy falls under one or both of two headings: (1) “He's a modern day Robin Hood standing up to corporate greed” and (2) “He's hot.” “. The first is absurd, childish and dangerous. (Not to mention Robin Hood, who comes from a wealthy family and graduated from an Ivy League school.) I'm being flippant on point two, but it's undeniably a factor; Just take a look at any social media offering. And let's be honest: If the killer was a burly 56-year-old with a paunch and a gray ponytail, he would have no fans at all.
This social media deification is largely a silly game for now. There's a dizzying subversiveness to celebrating the mysterious killer who lay in wait and then baffled police for a few days with Monopoly money and a COVID mask. He's the Joker and all. But one day, maybe in a year, things will get more serious. This case is being tried in Manhattan, where prosecutors must convince 12 jurors unanimously to find Mangione guilty of murder and lock him up for much, or possibly all, of his remaining life.
At first glance, the risk of a jury declaring the case null and void is increased here. If you catch a purveyor of Mangione fanfiction—yes, that's a thing—the jury could be out. But if I were prosecuting this case, I wouldn't be particularly concerned about that possibility.
Prosecutors have two effective protections. First, the jury selection process is designed to filter out people who are genuinely biased for or against a defendant. It's not perfect, of course, but it eliminates outliers. Some who truly sympathize with the defendant will self-identify; It's not quite the same scenario, but many potential jurors withdrew from Trump's hush money trial (held in the same courthouse where this trial will eventually take place) because they felt they couldn't be fair. Additionally, potential jurors are pressured by the judge and attorneys to express their feelings toward the defendant and consider whether they would be able to reach an impartial verdict. The judge will remove some “for cause” (in technical parlance), while the parties can exclude others using their assigned coercive measures. And you can bet that both prosecutors and defense attorneys will carefully examine each potential juror's social media feeds, which should give a clear indication of the mood for a murderer.
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The second protection is the process itself, which is more solemn and ritualistic than many may realize. Imagine walking into a criminal court in downtown Manhattan. Upon entering, you pass security gates and magnetometers manned by armed guards. You will be herded together with others and eventually marched to the courtroom when your number is called. You answer a barrage of questions from the judge and lawyers, you swear that you will be fair, and you sit on the jury. You raise your right hand and take an oath to decide the case impartially and solely on the basis of the evidence presented in court.
For weeks, you sit before evidence of how the defendant stalked his prey, shot him in the back, and left him to bleed to death on a cold Manhattan sidewalk. At the end of the hearing, the judge will solemnly explain to you from above the specific elements of the law that you must take into account. You retreat to the jury room with eleven other civilians to fulfill your sworn duty. Are you really going to cheat your way through the entire trial and then abuse the verdict because you fell in love with a murderer?
Even assuming that Thompson's murder caused genuine frustration with the insurance industry, any rational adult can easily replace the statement, “I strongly dislike the insurance industry and believe it is unfair and poorly run,” with the statement, “This defendant murdered this innocent victim.” These ideas are not mutually exclusive.
Heaven knows our courts are imperfect, but they tend to enforce a healthy dose of respectability and conformity. I've seen gangsters, cops, billionaires, politicians and even prosecutors trimmed in the courtroom. Egos tend to deflate once their owners become part of the process. We all know that guy at work who gets a court notice and vows to go to court and act or claim he's biased or put on a crazy show to get fired. Take it from someone who picked a whole bunch of jurors: Nobody actually does that.
It's one thing for Mangione's admirers to take to social media and post funny memes or even express sincere (albeit misguided) sympathy or support for the guy. But a criminal trial has the ability to force people to get serious.
This article will also appear in the free version CAFE letter newsletter. For more analysis on law and politics from Elie Honig, Preet Bharara, Joyce Vance, and other CAFE contributors, visit cafe.com.
