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The Jury

Settle an argument. Once.

When you can't agree, bring it here. You pick five jurors together from a panel of twelve. You each write your side, hidden from the other until the jury rules. You both sign an agreement: whatever the jury decides, you accept it and move on.

Each juror writes their own reasoning — two to four paragraphs, addressed to you both directly, signed in their voice. The reveal looks like this:

Sample verdict

Names changed

The question

Should we move the family from Chicago to Seattle for Mei's new senior role?

From Mei's perspective (excerpt)

I moved for Sam's career twice — Boston, then Chicago. Both times I told myself my turn would come. This is my turn. The kids are 9 and 6; if we don't go now, we won't go.

From Sam's perspective (excerpt)

Mei is right that this would be her first move. But the kids have grandparents twenty minutes away and they have a life here. I'm not asking her to give up her career — I'm asking us to find a way that doesn't uproot everyone.

The verdict

3 for Mei · 2 for Sam — Mei wins

Marisol Chen

Retired family-court mediator · Los Angeles

Rules for Mei

Sam, this isn't a referendum on your career. It's a question about whose turn it is to be inconvenienced — and the honest answer is, it's been Mei's turn for a long time. She moved for you twice. That she said yes both times doesn't make a third yes the right answer.

Bashir Khoury

Software engineer · Toronto

Rules for Sam

Mei's account leans heavily on 'I've given up enough.' That can be true and still not decisive. Sam isn't asking her to give up; he's asking her to imagine a version of the family where her career resumes once the kids are older — which, judging by what you both wrote, is what she also wants.

Excerpt only — full verdicts run several paragraphs from each of five jurors.

The jurors on The Jury are AI characters.