Probably not. But a fairly prominent economist seems to think that there may have been something to it.
In case you’re not familiar with the concept, trial by ordeal was what passed for due process in medieval times. Essentially, the defendant would be subject to some test, or “ordeal,” which, theoretically, has 2 possible results. If one result occurs, the defendant is innocent; if the other occurs, he’s guilty. It was usually something ridiculous like “let’s throw the defendant in the lake, and if he drowns, he’s guilty, if he lives, he’s innocent.” Or it might have been the other way around – they did some silly things back then.
To be fair to the author, his thesis seems to be that those superstition-based practices were only useful in determining guilt and innocence if the superstitions on which they were based were widely believed.
Think of the fable about using a soot-covered pot with a rooster in it to catch a thief. An angry mob believes that there is a criminal among them, and one enlightened fellow says that he has a magic pot – when the guilty person touches the pot, the rooster will crow. Everyone supposedly touches the pot, and the rooster doesn’t make a peep. Soon enough, the mob is calling for Mr. Smarty Pants’ blood. He calms them down, and tells everyone to raise their hands. All but one of the men have soot on their hand. The man with the clean hand is your thief.
Those with clear consciences touched the pot, knowing they had nothing to fear. Believing that he would be found out, the guilty man didn’t touch it. This would, of course, not work if nobody believed that a pot with a rooster in it could detect guilt.
If trial by ordeal determined guilt and innocence with better-than-chance accuracy, it was probably not due to divine judgment (as the superstition held); rather, it was due to the fact that everyone involved believed that God was judging the accused and would determine the outcome of the trial accordingly.
For example, if a suspect willingly submits to the trial, it can be assumed that they’re probably innocent. If they have to be dragged kicking and screaming, they’re probably guilty. Knowing this, the priest administering the test could manipulate the (quite complex and vague) rules to suit his desired outcome.
The article got me thinking: what role does superstition play in the modern justice system?
For example, the ritual of having a witness in a court of law swear on the Bible to tell the truth is based on the premise that lying is a sin, and will be punished by God. Of course, the deterrent value depends entirely on the witness’ belief in God and the immorality of lying. Perhaps that’s why many modern oaths (the one given in California courts) for example, omit or minimize the religious references, and instead focus on the earthly consequences of lying under oath – being charged with perjury.
Or look at what commonly happens in jury trials – a lawyer asks an impermissible question, and before opposing counsel can object, the witness answers it. The judge instructs the jury to disregard the question and answer. This is based on the idea, which doesn’t seem to have any more bearing in reality than superstition, that the jurors can simply push what they heard out of their minds, and dutifully refrain from considering what they heard, even subconsciously, in deliberations. We all know that most human beings simply aren’t capable of doing this, yet the judicial system operates under the assumption that they are, and the trial system that we have wouldn’t be able to operate if this, and other, legal fictions were not treated as true.
Really, that seems to be all there is to it: there are certain systems that work only because we believe that they work. Of course, the criminal justice system should seek to abandon the use of superstition entirely – in an age of DNA evidence and modern investigatory techniques, it’s absurd to rely on the supernatural to determine guilt or innocence.
I think that some of the commentors on the website where the article was posted missed the author’s point – he argued that, in some cases, it might be beneficial, from both an economic and legal standard, to leverage superstition where it exists. He certainly doesn’t seriously believe that we should bring back the trial by ordeal; he is simply observing that when everybody believes something, that belief can be useful.
By: Rusty Shackleford