What Serving on a Jury Taught Me About Real Leadership and Deep Listening

Blog

What Serving on a Jury Taught Me About Real Leadership and Deep Listening

In honor of Jury Rights Day, Blue Yonder associate Corwin Tobias shares his recent experience serving on a jury. Corwin joined Blue Yonder in November 2020 and now leads the company's Internal Communications. In this role, Corwin partners closely with associates and executives across the organization to craft clear, engaging communications that connect our people to key initiatives, priorities and stories. He’s passionate about creating meaningful experiences through communication and supporting teams in sharing their work in ways that inspire and inform.

Recently, I had the unexpected experience of being called into jury duty—and even more unexpectedly, selected as Juror #1 and eventually the foreperson for a criminal trial centered entirely on testimony. It was an intense and emotional case, and by far one of the most challenging experiences I’ve ever been part of.

As a jury, we sat through more than 6-8 hours of testimony a day, for four straight days followed by an entire day of deliberation. It was emotionally exhausting, and yes—it completely disrupted my work and personal schedule. But through the weight of it all, I found perspective, growth, and even moments of connection and joy.

There are many reflections I’m still unpacking—but three lessons continue to influence how I show up in my day-to-day work since returning to a normal schedule.

1. Stop Thinking About Your Reply. Listen to What’s Being Said.
A unique element to Arizona and select other U.S. states is the ability for jurors to ask witnesses questions during the trial. When we were first given the opportunity to submit written questions for witnesses, I found myself doing something familiar: I started writing my questions while the witness was still speaking, often right at the beginning of their testimony. It felt efficient—maybe even proactive. I had heard opening statements and kind of assumed I had enough information to ask a thoughtful and informed question. But I quickly realized I was missing crucial parts of their testimony because I was focused on my own thoughts, not theirs.

Sound familiar? In meetings, I’ve often caught myself doing the same thing—getting excited about what I want to say next, or formulating a question mid-sentence, and in the process, missing the full depth of what someone is sharing.

In the courtroom, that wasn’t an option. Interruptions weren’t tolerated—in fact, at one point, someone’s phone rang, and the judge’s face turned bright red with anger. He made it clear visually and vocally: no disruptions, no exceptions.

Being required to sit in total silence—no comments, no reactions, no follow-ups—fundamentally changed my perception of communication. I noticed more: subtle shifts in body language, the pacing of someone's voice, and moments of hesitation or emotion. The richness of the testimony wasn’t just in the words, but in how it was being said.

It also reminded me of how much communication gets lost in our day-to-day.

Since returning to work, I’ve been trying to pause more—to listen not just to the words, but the intention and emotion behind them. And when someone is speaking, I’m challenging myself not to think about what I want to say next, but to actually listen to what they’re saying now. I still have those moments of excitement to share a thought or opinion and am certainly not perfect—but these reflections are all critical in helping me reshape how I show up in meetings.

2. Great Questions Come After Great Listening
Back to the witness questions: I noticed something interesting over the course of the trial. Early on, many juror questions were reactive—rushed, unclear, or based on partial information. But as we all settled into deeper listening, the quality of our questions noticeably improved. They became sharper, more open-ended, and more illuminating.

The difference? We stopped trying to formulate questions during the testimony. We let the full story unfold first.

This shift felt incredibly relevant to the workplace. So often in meetings, we jump in with questions before someone is even finished. Sometimes that’s necessary for clarification—but more often, it interrupts someone’s train of thought, derails the moment, or causes us to miss something critical simply because we couldn’t wait.

In the courtroom, the discipline of listening first and asking later changed the kinds of insights we uncovered. In our work lives, I think the same is true: when we slow down, stay curious, and truly hear someone, we unlock better questions—and often, much better answers.

3. Invite Quiet Voices to the Table
During deliberations, one juror had been almost completely silent. While the rest of us debated, clarified, and revisited evidence, they sat quietly, listening.

Eventually, I asked everyone to become silent in the room and then asked that juror directly, “What are your thoughts?”

And what they shared completely shifted the room. Their comments were thoughtful, deeply perceptive, and brought in a perspective that hadn’t yet been voiced—all of which ended up playing a critical role in shaping our final decision.

I still think about that moment. What if we hadn’t asked? What if we hadn't made space for them to speak up? Would we have missed that insight?

In team meetings, it’s easy to default to the loudest or most confident voices—or to assume that silence means agreement. But I’ve learned the hard way that some of the most powerful perspectives come from the quietest people in the room. Often, they’re the ones absorbing everything, processing deeply, and waiting for the right moment.

We all have a responsibility to create space for those voices. We might miss out on the biggest insights when we rely only on the loudest voices.

One Final Note: Emotional Load Is Real
It wasn’t easy to leave the courtroom each evening—after hours of emotional testimony—and jump back into regular life. Work projects, family responsibilities, social events… everything felt a little surreal in contrast to what we were holding during the day.

To stay grounded, I leaned on a few core rituals:

•    Mindfulness and meditation, primarily through Headspace, gave me a place to breathe and reset. Just 10 minutes of intentional stillness helped me transition out of the courtroom mindset and prepare for the rest of my day.
•    Music played a bigger role than I expected. Calmer playlists, like instrumental, ambient, and classical music, helped quiet my mind and soothe the emotional static that often lingered. 
•    And most importantly, I intentionally created quiet space to process. No podcasts. No screens. Just time alone to walk, reflect, and let things settle.

These simple but intentional practices helped more than I had anticipated. They didn’t erase the emotional weight, but they gave me a way to carry it more gently.

In a culture that celebrates constant productivity, it’s easy to power through difficult moments and pretend we’re fine. But emotional load is real. Whether it’s a heavy project, a tough personal situation, or something like jury duty that pulls you into someone else’s reality, stepping away to recenter isn’t optional—it’s essential.

Since returning to work from that experience, I’ve been focused on slowing down, listening more fully, and trusting that the best questions—and the best decisions—come when we create space for them. Especially for the quietest voices in the room.