America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

Chapter 79 Innocence

Two days later, in Newark Federal Court, Courtroom 5.

"Everyone stand up."

Sean stood up reflexively, his eyes fixed on Judge Herris as he entered through the side door.

After two days of waiting, the jury in the Kevin Chen case still failed to reach a unanimous verdict. Judge Herris decided to temporarily set aside the deliberations there and proceed with the Sean Penn case first.

The two cases are intertwined in timeline, which puts additional pressure on all parties involved.

"Please be seated." Judge Herris took his seat, opened the file in front of him, and said, "This court will now continue the hearing of New Jersey v. Sean Penn. Closing arguments from both sides will be presented today."

He looked at the prosecutor's table: "Prosecutor, please begin."

Marvin Garcia stood up, casually straightened his suit, and walked to the jury box.

"Fellow jurors, over the past few days of the trial you have heard a great deal of testimony. The defense has attempted to portray this case as a holy war for free speech and to package the defendants as defenders of the First Amendment."

But let's get back to the facts.

Garcia pressed the remote control, and the screenshot of that podcast video reappeared on the screen.

"The defendant, Sean Penn, publicly called on listeners to protest at the 76ers' training facility on a highly-rated podcast. He used a great deal of inflammatory language to describe a commercial development project as genocide against the Chinese community."

Two days later, hundreds of people gathered at the entrance of the training center. One of them shot and wounded the team president. The shooter, Kevin Chen, admitted during interrogation that he was inspired to participate in the protest by the defendant's remarks.

"The defense will tell you that freedom of speech is protected by the Constitution. That's true. But freedom of speech has its limits. When speech directly leads to violence, it is no longer protected."

Garcia approached the jury box.

"The Supreme Court established a standard in Brandenburg v. Ohio: if speech is intended to incite immediate unlawful conduct and is likely to result in such conduct, then such speech is not protected by the First Amendment."

"Does the defendant's statement meet this standard? Let's see: he called on people to take action on the show, and two days later violence occurred. This is not a coincidence; it is a cause and effect."

"I urge you, esteemed jurors, to find the defendant guilty based on the law and the facts."

Garcia took his seat.

Judge Herris turned to the defense table. "Defense, please make your closing arguments."

Vincent did not immediately walk to the jury box; he stood there and looked around the entire courtroom.

"Your Honor, jurors," he said, "the prosecutor just mentioned the Brandenburg case. Since he brought it up, let me explain in detail what this standard actually means."

Vincent walked to the large screen and pressed the remote control. The screen displayed the following text: "Brandenburg v. Ohio: The Supreme Court ruled that governments cannot punish seditious speech unless it is intended to incite immediate illegal behavior and is likely to do so immediately."

"Please note the two key words here: immediate and intention."

Vincent turned to the jury.

"My client recorded that podcast in Texas. The protests in New Jersey started two days after the show aired. Two days. Is that considered immediate?"

"More importantly, did my client intend to incite violence? I have stated this point countless times before."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Vincent said emphatically, "my client has always advocated for voting, speaking out, and writing letters."

We participated in the protests, including on the day of the incident, we went to the Camden city government to request permission for a peaceful protest, but it was denied. These are all activities explicitly protected by the Constitution. He never uttered a single word encouraging the use of violence.

"The prosecution is trying to pin the blame on my client for the actions of a shooter. But let me ask a question: 'If someone robs a bank after listening to a politician's speech, should that politician be held responsible for the robbery?'"

'

Vincent shook his head.

"Of course not!"

"Because every adult is responsible for their own actions. Admittedly, I also defend Kevin Chen, saying that he is an adult with a legal gun license. His decision to fire was his decision, not my client's decision."

"Now that I say this," Vincent's tone became more serious, "I would like to remind you jurors of a historical precedent."

He pressed the remote control, and a black and white photograph appeared on the screen: seven men sitting in the dock, facing a group of judges and lawyers.

"This is the Chicago Seven case from 1969."

"At the time, the United States was in the midst of the Vietnam War. Thousands of anti-war protesters gathered outside the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. The protest turned into a riot, and violent clashes broke out between police and protesters."

"The federal government subsequently indicted seven protest organizers, accusing them of inciting riots across state lines. The legal basis for that charge is almost identical to the legal basis that prosecutors are using to indict my client today."

Vincent looked at the jury.

"What was the outcome of that case? After a lengthy trial and appeals, all charges of sedition were overturned. The appeals court ruled that the defendants' words and actions constituted protected political expression, and the government had no right to convict them on that basis."

"Fifty-five years ago, the American justice system made the right choice. It rejected the government's attempt to suppress dissent using vague sedition charges."

"Today, the same choice is placed before you."

Vincent approached the jury box, his gaze sweeping over each juror.

"The prosecution wants you to believe that my client is a dangerous agitator whose words directly led to violence. But the truth is, he is simply a citizen who dared to speak the truth. He criticized a powerful institution, and he spoke out for a vulnerable community. That is precisely what the First Amendment is all about."

"If you convict him today, then tomorrow, anyone who dares to criticize the powerful and wealthy may face the same fate. Freedom of speech will become an empty phrase."

"I implore you all to deliver a fair verdict. Declare my client not guilty."

Vincent returned to his seat at the defense table.

He was met with silence.

Judge Herris looked at the defendant's dock. "Mr. Pan, under Rule 32 of the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure, you have the right to make a final statement before the jury deliberations. Do you wish to exercise this right?"

"Yes, Your Honor. I will exercise that right." Sean nodded.

He walked to the center of the courtroom, facing the jury, and took a deep breath. The jury's opinion of him was mixed, ranging from 50% to 75%, and some even hovering around 0%.

But none of this prevents him from expressing his own views.

"Fellow jurors, I'm not a lawyer, and I won't use complicated legal jargon to persuade you. I just want to tell you some things in the simplest language," he said. "I'm an actor by trade. In Hollywood, I used to think acting was my whole life. But some things happened that changed me."

"Because of the Avalon Foundation, I was able to see the struggles of ordinary people in this society. I saw those groups that were ignored, marginalized, and trampled on. I saw the elderly people in Philadelphia's Chinatown who had worked hard in this land their whole lives, but could be driven out of their homes at any time."

"I chose to stand up for them. I knew it would get me into trouble. I knew those in power wouldn't let me off the hook. But I did it anyway because I believed it was the right thing to do."

Sean's gaze swept across each person in the jury box like waves.

"The prosecutors say I incited a riot. But I want to tell you that in American history, movements for justice have never been peaceful. The abolitionist movement, the civil rights movement, the labor movement—every step forward has been accompanied by conflict and sacrifice."

"I don't support violence, and I've never asked anyone to shoot." He paused, "but I understand those who are angry. When someone has been oppressed for too long, when their voice has been ignored for too long, when their dignity has been trampled on for too long, their anger is understandable."

"Today, I am the one sitting here on trial. But I am not the only one being judged. Every ordinary person who dares to challenge authority is being judged. What is being judged is the most precious value of our country: freedom of speech."

Sean looked at Judge Herris one last time.

"Your Honor, I have finished speaking. Whatever verdict the jury delivers, I will accept it. Because I believe that true justice may be delayed, but it will never be absent."

He returned to the defendant's seat.

The courtroom was completely silent.

Judge Herris cleared his throat: "The jury will now withdraw to deliberate. Do not discuss this case with anyone until you have reached a unanimous verdict."

Court adjourned.

In the corridor outside the courthouse, Vincent walked briskly beside Sean.

"Pan, what you just said—" he whispered, "was well said. But do you know what that means?"

"What does that mean?"

-

"That means you're not just fighting a lawsuit anymore," Vincent glanced at him. "You're making a political statement. From now on, no matter the verdict, there's no going back."

Sean was silent for a moment, then smiled softly.

"Carter, I never intended to go back. Did you think I had a backup plan when I publicly announced my presidential run?"

Lying, this is blatant lying!

But he looked into Vincent's eyes, which were filled with unwavering faith.

He knew his lie was flawless.

Sean knew he had fooled everyone, even himself.