In last Friday’s edition, Folha featured, in a front-page photograph, the jurors in the trial of Guilherme de Padua, one of the defendants accused of murdering actress Daniella Perez.
In the four-column photo, it’s possible to identify, with reasonable precision, the faces of the jurors in what is considered the crime of the decade in Brazil.
The images of photojournalist Rosane Marinho showed two blonde women, five men, one of them a mulatto, another black. All were following the testimony in the Rio de Janeiro courtroom.
Reporting by Chico Santos, in a fruitful attempt to verify facts, carried the whole names of each member of the jury, their professions, place of employement, trial experience, even their favorite soccer teams.
Folha’s behavior, in a strict sense, didn’t signify anything new in Brazil and, by itself, followed the current norms of what is considered good journalism. The composition of the jury, a matter of interest, by itself could give us a clue about its seriousness, of its general inclinations, so the reader could establish some identification with those responsible for the verdict. Other news organizations also revealed facts about the jurors. The judge himself read the names in court. He didn’t make any request that their identities not be published.
Besides this, the Brazilian Constitution assures ample freedom of information, which is probably its most important democratic characteristic. This doesn’t prevent news media, however, from imposing restrictions on how this right is used, especially when the safety of individuals is at stake, even more so when these individuals represent society in the exercise of another democractic right, the execution of justice.
In a trial with huge popular repercussions, such as when an actor on Brazil’s biggest TV network and his wife are accused of killing an actress from the same network, in which public opinion, and even media sensationalism, tends to support conviction of the defendants, the juror could worry about his safety and that of his relatives if a verdict is rendered contrary to general expectations.
Doesn’t it seem that the jurors and their families, when they are clearly identified in the media, are exposed to pressures which could range from simple coercion to violent retaliation? Doesn’t this expose the defendants and their lawyers, and by extension, those responsible for deciding the verdict, to a lynch mob mentality? In some countries, jurors traditionally remain incognito to the public at large, as can be seen in the trial in which O.J. Simpson was acquitted. For several months, the American press controlled itself from identifying the jurors except by numbers, aside from providing indications about their age, race, sex and profession.
In Brazil, neither legislation nor journalistic practice are so precise. At Folha, the internal rules stipulated by the Folha stylebook estalish principles which could allow for the omission of information by the newspaper in specific cases.
The entry regarding “safety” allows the newspaper not to publish information which endanger public safety for a person or company. The typical case in that entry applies to kidnapping.
This is the rule: make a rational decision, based on values, in principle, concerning life and the importance of justice, even if it could mean temporarily relinquishing privileges.
As concerns juries in Brazil, it seems that the time is coming to do some deep thinking about the voluntary adoption of stricter standards to benefit the image of credibility that is essential to the news media as well as impartiality for jurors’ decisions.
Moreover, what real interest does the reader have in knowing that the juror is named Joao da Silva or Maria das Couves?
