All Blog Posts from Couric & Co.

Jennifer Hoar is a producer for CBSNews.com based in Washington.

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Just when you thought the term “diplomacy” had achieved obsolescence, a report from the Center for American Progress proposes new diplomatic initiatives for the U.S. to re-set course in Iraq.

“Strategic Reset,” proffers envoys, ambassadors and geopolitical alliances to redress problems where troop surges had once been en vogue. In fact, of the four major highlights of the “Reset” plan, only one is related to military strategy. The operative term there being, of course, “redeployment”; the report says troops should be withdrawn from Iraq by the end of 2008.

“The U.S. needs to reboot its entire strategy,” the Center’s President and CEO, John Podesta, said in a Monday conference call about the report. Podesta, you may recall, was Chief of Staff to President Clinton from 1998 until 2001. He noted that the recommendations of “Reset” reflect the fundamentally different circumstances” in Iraq now, especially in the way that it has become fragmented. Podesta and his Center colleagues do not go the way of Former Ambassador Peter Galbraith – and others - by suggesting that Iraq be partitioned. Instead, they propose that the U.S. stop arming Iraqi security forces because it only exacerbates in-fighting.

“The medicine of more weapons and training for Iraqis is at this point killing the patient and fueling the conflict between both sides of Iraq’s multiple civil wars,” Podesta said.

(He’s all about making his points with metaphors, huh?)

On the strictly diplomatic end, “Reset” has some ideas that would create some new job opportunities. Hiring (soon): Middle East special envoy, two ambassadors. Responsibilities include, but not limited to: Managing Iraq’s “multiple conflicts” and resolving the Arab-Israeli conflict. Put that on your resume and you’d never be accused of not challenging yourself.

Jennifer Hoar is a producer for CBSNews.com based in Washington.

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Scooter Libby's somber news today that he'd have to report to prison while he appeals his perjury and obstruction of justice convictions belied the mood that began today's hearing.

When Libby and his vast defense team entered the 6th floor U.S. District Court room only two minutes before the scheduled start to the hearing, the gathering was nearly jovial. I saw Special Prosecutor Pat Fitzgerald, whose legitimacy in that role was about to be skewered by the defense, go over to Libby attorney Ted Wells for a handshake and a laugh, even. Wells was grinning ear-to-ear and chuckling inexplicably. How lovely, I thought, counsel has camaraderie!

During what was supposed to be a five-minute recess, Libby's wife, Harriet Grant, whom I last saw in tears at the sentencing hearing, was smiling alongside of Wells and half-hugging him. There was no such PDA by the prosecution.

The Judge and Larry Robbins, the experienced appellate litigator who joined the Libby team recently, had some lively repartee that was, at times, tense.

Then, when Robbins contested Walton's ruling blocking the testimony of NBC News reporter Andrea Mitchell, he was summarily defeated.

"Mitchell was going to lead the jury into making inference upon inference that would have led to nothing but rank speculation," Walton said. "I think I would have abdicated what the Supreme Court told me to do as a gatekeeper if I had allowed the [Mitchell] testimony."

Once Walton rendered his decision that Libby would have to head to jail – not pass Go, not collect $200 – a flurry of activity ensued. Fitzgerald exited almost immediately and, I'm told by my CBS News colleague Deirdre Hester, that Libby and his team exited through the judge's chambers and a private elevator.

When former New York Times reporter Judith Miller was on the stand a few weeks ago at the Scooter Libby perjury and obstruction of justice trial, jurors were able to ask her additional questions of their own, via the judge, once she completed her testimony. They wanted to know about her past experiences with memory loss and where she kept her notes from interviews (answer: "in a shopping bag under my desk").

As Judge Walton read the questions on the behalf of the jury, I was surprised that such protocol was allowed. I had always thought that prosecutors and defense attorneys had the monopoly on asking questions in a courtroom, but it turns out that that is not necessarily or universally true.

In fact, according to a 2006American Bar Foundation national survey, juror questions were permitted in 15% of state and 11% of federal trials. Several states prohibit the practice altogether: Minnesota (for criminal trials), Nebraska (for criminal and civil trials) and Texas (for criminal trials).

"The standard practice is not to do it," says Shari Seidman Diamond of Northwestern University School of Law and a co-author of the Bar Foundation's report, but "treating jurors like potted plants has not been a productive way to approach jury trials."

Through their research, Diamond and her co-authors found that the benefits of allowing jurors to ask questions in court were plentiful.

"We found that what jurors do is engage in a kind of clarification and cross-checking" of the information they've just heard, Diamond explains, and "they rarely ask adversarial or aggressive questions."

This can help lawyers as well, Diamond says, because they can "find out what the jury is worried about in the course of the trial."

Because the judge vets the questions that are submitted and determines which ones are actually asked, the process is not a free-for-all. Jurors can't just blurt out what's baffling them. In a courtroom like Judge Walton's, though, they get an opportunity to clarify and distill anything they have heard from witnesses before they sit down (next week) to deliberate. Plus, if they're lucky, they get to hear about reporters' note-storage habits.

For as much as the Scooter Libby trial is a showcase of divisiveness and "he said-she said" banter, there is a surprising sense of collegiality, even equity, in the courtroom where it all takes place.

When the judge announces a 10-minute break or lunch recess, everyone recesses together. So, you get up from your seat, perhaps headed for the water fountain around the corner, and end up walking out alongside of Libby's wife, Harriet, or even Libby himself.

On the first day I attended the trial, I was trying to find my way around during the lunch break. In my tentative search for an appropriate exit, I stopped in the middle of the hallway, only to get in the path of Special Prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald, laden with documents and binders on his way to lunch. (After he politely excused himself to get by, I turned to a colleague and said, "wow, I literally just obstructed justice.")

The convergence of characters is also evident in the courthouse cafeteria (what is this, 7th grade?), where you might bump into the latest witness or counsel on the prowl for a turkey sandwich. Matt Cooper, former Time Magazine reporter, was on line next to me one day last week. It was unnerving. I wanted to say something, like "brutal cross-exam, huh?" or "did you really still reek of chlorine while you were talking to Libby on the phone?" But I let him ring up his meal (shiny apple included, natch) and dine in peace.

This trial is a unique environment in which the news media are in close proximity to the news makers, all as news is made. It's like watching animals in their natural habitat, except you're in there with them.