There is significant legislative attention at the moment regarding the potential curtailment of jury trials. It is provoking remarkably strong feelings across the country.
As Parliament considers the Courts and Tribunals Bill (2026)—at the request of the government—a wave of visceral response has followed. The bill represents an attempt to tackle a massive court backlog by shifting many cases away from juries toward judge-led hearings.
However, the methods proposed have struck a deep chord with those who see the jury as the bedrock of the English legal identity.
For them, this is not a simple administrative update. It is a request from the central government to Parliament to alter the foundational software of our justice system.
Unlocking why it is seen this way takes us directly back to the 7th-century foundations of England, while the country was still emerging, and we must sit with waht became the Common Law project begun by Erkenwald and King Ine in the 690s and England’s first recorded law code was actually issued by King Æthelberht of Kent around 600 AD.
These statesmen were engaged in the first great act of “national building.”
They were turning a patchwork of tribal territories into a coherent society. Before this, the “primitive doctrine” of the era was raw power. Justice was a matter of blood-feuds and the strength of one’s sword. Figures like Erkenwald, the law giver, helped shift this paradigm by installing a shared framework for the English people. The Laws of Ine were not a solo act of royal decree. Their prologue states they were established with the counsel of the Witan. This was the national assembly of “wise men.” This process ensured the law was a shared “commons” rather than a king’s whim.
It was this software that later kings used to knit regions into a single, unified England. The genius of Erkenwald’s contribution was the formalization of the Oath-Helper.
In the Saxon system, if a person was accused, the community had to participate. This was the birth of the idea that justice is a participatory act. It required the presence and consent of the governed.
When people today react strongly to the removal of juries, they are defending a 1,300-year-old belief. They believe the law is a shared responsibility, not a service provided by the state. This is a central question of comparative law. In many continental traditions, the law is an administrative service provided by a professional elite. In the tradition of Erkenwald, justice is a civic performance by the public.
In 1939, the King’s Speech identified the “primitive doctrine” where “might is right” as the ultimate threat to civilization.
In 2026, that doctrine has reappeared in the debate as Expediency. The argument for judge-alone trials is that the state can process justice more efficiently without the “complication” of twelve ordinary citizens. But the jury represents a rejection of raw power.
From the Magna Carta to the Tudor reforms of Sir Rowland Hill, the tradition has insisted that the state must ask the community for permission before it can punish. The jury is the physical hardware that ensures the law remains a dialogue. It is the last formal place in the constitution where the ordinary citizen holds a high office.
We notice these feelings because our history at Soulton is linked to these foundations. When Sir Rowland Hill built here, he was honoring a tradition that placed the neighbor’s peace above the ruler’s convenience. The current debate is a “long tail” question about who we are. It is an inquiry into whether justice is an administrative task to be “streamlined,” or a community act that requires a seat at the table
