Criminal Law Rules! The Contextual Use of Criminal Law Principles and Charter Values in Groia v The Law Society of Upper Canada ​​​​​​​

The hot off the presses decision in Groia v The Law Society of Upper Canada confirms my belief that criminal law matters in all areas of law. Criminal law principles are foundational and have a reach beyond criminal case law. This is most evident in the rules of evidence where those principles do not distinguish between areas of law. Evidence is evidence no matter the context. It is the courtroom that gives the rules of evidence its perspective, not any particular area of law. There is a caveat to that proposition: some evidential rules blossom and find deeper meaning in the criminal law context where Charter rights provide a signpost to evidential rulings. In many ways, Groia borrows from the texture of criminal law, not only in the specific areas I will touch upon in this blog posting. The concept of fearless and resolute advocacy, peppered throughout the Groia decision, defines the criminal defence lawyer’s duty to her client. A client who faces the ultimate sanction of our justice system, a potential loss of liberty and societal condemnation. In some ways, the fact that Justice Moldaver, who authored the majority decision in Groia and began his litigation career as a criminal lawyer, references criminal law principles in the Groia judgment should not surprise anyone. Yet, to see not only outright usage of criminal principles but to also detect an almost metaphysical reliance on criminal law analysis brings a welcome richness to this decision. It also helps that the case is situated in a quasi-criminal law environment as a prosecution by the securities commission. A prosecution with a decidedly criminal law bent as Jay Naster started his career as a Crown prosecutor.

I need only concentrate on a few paragraphs of the decision to illustrate my premise. First, the outright usage of criminal law principles is palpable in Justice Moldaver’s finding that Groia’s conduct did not amount to incivility. In Moldaver J’s view, Groia made an honest mistake in his understanding of the rules of evidence, mistaking the Crown’s obligation to disclose relevant and material evidence with an obligation to consent to the admission of such producible evidence. Crucially, this honest mistake was sincerely held, an important factor in the analysis on whether there was a basis for Groia’s in court conduct. As Justice Moldaver suggests in paragraph 93, requiring an honest but mistaken belief as the foundational precept for the civility analysis is taken straight from the 1980 criminal law Pappajohn decision.  

Pappajohn is itself a seminal case, and a foundational one at that, taught in all first-year law school criminal law courses. It provides the foundational elements of mistake of fact in a sexual assault context - the defence of mistaken but honest belief in consent. It is the start of a long line of cases where the Supreme Court struggles with the parameters of such a defence and when such a defence should be left to the consideration of the trier of fact, known as the air of reality test. It is also an infamous case, which at the time of the trial in the late '70s caused a shock wave in Vancouver high society as wealthy business man, George Pappajohn was tried, convicted and incarcerated for the rape of a real estate agent. The case eventually led to the 1999 Ewanchuk decision where the Supreme Court made it clear that no means no and only yes means yes. On the pop culture side, the Pappajohn trial is also one of the cases dramatized in the radio series, and then later  television series, created by George Jonas(journalist) and Eddie Greenspan’s (legendary criminal defence lawyer) entitled the The Scales of Justice. When I teach Pappajohn, I bring in the script as published in the book series for the class to get a sense of the real-life drama surrounding the decision. Too often when we look at cases we forget the facts are not just a written narrative or story but are based in real life events. 

Although, Justice Dickson wrote for the dissent in Pappajohn, his framing of the defence of mistake of fact was adopted by the majority decision, authored by Justice McIntyre. It was Justice Dickson, who clarified the defence in Canada as an honest belief that need not be reasonably held as opposed to the English authority in Tolson (see pages 150 to 154 of Justice Dickson’s dissent in Pappajohn), which suggested the belief must be an honest and reasonable one. Later case law on the issue, particularly Chief Justice Lamer in Davis, emphasizes the need for the belief to be honestly or sincerely held, for the defence to cross the air of reality threshold. Reasonableness is not required but is a factor in determining the honesty of that belief. It is, in other words, part of the credibility assessment of the belief but not a controlling pre-requisite. In Groia, Justice Moldaver relies on this crucial distinction between an honest belief sincerely held and an honest and reasonable belief as a defining basis for finding Groia’s conduct as not deserving sanction (see para 92).

But that is not the only basis for this finding. The subtler reliance on criminal law principle comes as Justice Moldaver speaks of another aspect of Groia’s conduct; whether he was acting in good faith. Contrary to the dissent's interpretation of the majority’s position on this, Justice Moldaver suggests he is not conflating reasonableness with good faith. Indeed, he maintains these concepts act separate and apart. Here, Justice Moldaver relies on criminal law Charter language as he defines the concept of good faith in the same terms as the s.24(2)Grant analysis. Section 24(2) is a remedial section, triggered once the court finds a violation of a Charterright. It is a criminal law remedy as evidence can be excluded under this section on the basis of a breach that brings the administration of justice into disrepute.Grant is a sophisticated analysis that heavily relies upon societal norms and aspirations. It is a remedy that engages long-term goals of society and is firmly situated in the kind of society we want to live in as well as the kind of behaviours we will or will not tolerate as a society. It is firmly fixed in the public confidence in our justice system. Section 24(2) plays an educative role, a disciplinary role and an aspirational one. It is retrospective, in the sense it must revisit the past actions of the authorities in breaching the Charter, but it is prospective in its relief. Admittedly, after doing a couple of presentations on s. 24(2), I am attracted to the Grant analysis as I find the test to be an elegant and inspirational one. 

But back to Groia and Justice Moldaver’s pulling into the mix conceptual images from s. 24(2) in the shape of good faith. Part of the s. 24(2) analysis requires the court to assess the seriousness of the breach, in other words the seriousness of the Charter infringing conduct. In Groia-terms this can be equated to the seriousness of the alleged professional misconduct. Justice Moldaver in paragraph 93 enters into an ersatz s. 24(2) analysis as he describes good faith on a sliding scale “The more egregious the legal mistake, the less likely it will have been sincerely held, making it less likely the allegation will have been made in good faith.” This is exactly what is done in a s. 24(2) analysis. There, the court situates the police conduct on a “scale of culpability” with “inadvertent or minor violations” at one end and “wilful or reckless disregard of Charter  rights” at the other (see R v Paterson, 2017, SCCat para 43). All of this is, of course, reviewed in light of all of the circumstances of the case – in other words a contextual analysis.

Interestingly, this 24(2) like analysis intersects with the honest but mistaken legal mistake analysis undertaken by Justice Moldaver. As part of the s. 24(2) good faith assessment, the court considers whether the police were relying on an erroneous view of the law at the time of the events. This view of the law may be correct at the time but later changed through case law or it may be erroneously held through a mistaken understanding of the law (R v Vu2013, SCC para 69 & R v Duarte, 1990, SCC, para 60). However, there is an obligation on the police to be up to date on the law. They cannot rest on wilful blindness. A noted difference in the analysis is the requirement in Paterson at paragraph 44 of the majority reasons of Justice Brown that the good faith errors be reasonable. Negligence, in accordance with this standard, is not good faith and neither are unreasonable errors based on ignorance (see R v Buhay, 2003, SCC at para 59). As an aside, Justice Moldaver dissented in Paterson. In any event, this discussion must be kept in context – what Justice Moldaver is discussing is civility not competency. The line must be clearly drawn to ensure the integrity of our adversarial system and the buttressing concept of resolute advocacy.

It should finally be mentioned that at no point does Justice Moldaver reference s. 24(2) or the pertinent case law. In a contextual analysis such as this one, anything goes. Which leads me to the last point in this brief blog that obviously the Groia decision continues the Supreme Court’s predilection to contextualize. This modern approach to everything 'where context is everything' first appears in statutory interpretation principles (see Rizzo Shoes, 1990, SCC at paras 21 and 22) but has outgrown the written law to be a favoured solution to all problems. The contextual approach opens the rule of law door, which so often in the more rigid application of law is closed. Whether this open-door policy is a good one, I leave for another day but needless to say, the Supreme Court is certainly consistent. In the end, by using criminal law principles and Charter aspirations in areas not traditionally considered true criminal law, the idea of 'context is everything' is getting a large and liberal interpretation. In a very real sense, criminal law rules!

How To Navigate Through The Digital Era: A Review of Digital Evidence: A Practitioner’s Handbook

Advocacy is not simply a creature of the courtroom but is, in essence, a state of mind informed by legal principles and enhanced by strategic and tactical concerns. A skilful advocate will be able to approach each case with a tactful mindfulness, which will start from the moment the client calls to the moments after the case is decided. There are many such legendary advocates such as Clarence Darrow,G. Arthur Martin, and Eddie Greenspan. Natural talent does make a difference but truly what separates the great from the good is the desire to be continually curious about the craft. This continual renewal means being on the cutting-edge of the law. Today, such a skilful advocate melds old school advocacy with knowledge and appreciation of what’s next. What’s next, and actually already here, is technology as a legal platform. In criminal law, this means technology is not just a place people do business but a space in which people live. The key is to superimpose skilful advocacy onto the circuit board of the future. To help us successfully navigate through the digital era isDigital Evidence: A Practitioner’s Handbookby Gerald Chanand Susan Magotiaux,from the Emond’s Criminal Law Series, specially written with the technologically inclined skilful advocate in mind.

The lawyer by nature is a multi-tasker: trained to see the trial not as a linear exercise but as a multi-layered, multi-dimensional entity in which all of the moving parts of a case must be artfully molded into a workable case to be persuasively and successfully presented to the court. Throw into this delicate mix new age technology and you have, not a work of art, but a machine. Digital evidence in the courtroom re-constructs the traditional case – essentially taking a file from the Clarence Darrowinspired Inherit the Windbased on the Scopes “Monkey Trial” of 1925and plunking it down into the delightfully digital melange of Blade Runner 2049.  The Handbook appreciates the nuances of this task and is a helpful “all in one” guide for the practitioner faced with the challenge such digital cases bring. 

The practitioner bent is nicely explicit throughout the book as it continually and consistently metes out trial advice not as an afterthought to the law but as a practical outcome of it. For example, in the opening pages of the chapter on reasonable expectation of privacy, the authors remind the practitioner to focus on what was seized digitally as opposed to emphasizing the static location of the hardware. Of course, this focus on content over form just happens to be consistent with the focus of the Supreme Court in recent decisions on technology-based searches. In this way, these trial tips sharpen the law into a useable trial tool. But the Handbook does more than offer tools. Throughout the Handbook, the authors provide suggested factors to consider in dealing with the various in and out of court issues, which may arise in such cases. This attention to everyone means that the trial tools are “non-denominational” as they are useful for every player in the justice system defence, Crown, police and even judge. Essentially, the Handbook endeavours to create a virtual tool box that can be custom made for whomever has the need to create a case. Better yet, these tools are not saved into an outbox folder for view at the end of the book but reside within each discussion byte-point as the digital journey proceeds in the Handbook. 

Even if you are attracted to the Handbook purely for the tips, you will certainly read it, cover to cover, for the more traditional discussion of the various legal issues engaged by digital evidence. With a “bit to byte” approach, the Handbook is a smart guide on all of the technological dimensions of a criminal case from Part I on search and seizure, to Part II on disclosure, and finally ending in Part III on the use to be made of the evidence. These Parts divide the Handbook into three conceptual areas: the investigative stage, the pre-trial or case building stage, and concluding with the trial stage where digital technology is used both within the trial process as evidence and as part of the trial process as a tool for presenting that evidence. 

Each Part is further divided into discrete chapters. I am particularly impressed with the opening chapter on the Reasonable Expectation of Privacy in Digital Data. I agree with the authors that reasonable expectation of privacy (REP) “opens and ends the s. 8 analysis” (page 4). Actually, I would go further and suggest REP is theplace in which s. 8 resides (although that depiction may be too ‘territorial’ in aspect for some) and as such is the lens through which digital evidence must be viewed throughout any analysis, be it for legal commentary or trial use. Then there is the less esoteric but equally important chapter 7 in Part II Disclosure on Practical Constraints on Crown and Defence. This chapter is a tell all discussion of how to maneuver through disclosure undertakings, the real cost burden of giving and receiving digital disclosure and the myriad of access to justice issues resulting from the thousands of pieces of data disclosure connected to these files. This big-picture through a magnifying lens approach to digital evidence strikes the right balance between practice and principle – just what a skilful advocate needs and wants. 

Another highlight of the Handbook is the high-level discussions of technological terminology such as the “chipping” and “parsing” required to extract and copy data from a smart phone (page 168). Or the introduction to the “thumbnail” database (page 202) as an indicator someone has viewed a particular computer file. My favourite techie talk is the “Trojan Horse defence,” wherein the defence position goes “viral” by suggesting illegal computer data was parachuted onto the computer through the back door by a hacker or by the use of malicious software. 

If there is a weakness to the Handbook it comes by it honestly. Although Canadian case law does not have the high-speed energy of sci-fi movies, it does have a large and I mean a mega large pool of case law on the use and misuse of digital evidence. The downside to the book, which is not a failing of the authors, is the sheer number of cases which now engage digital evidence. In fact, the book just missed the release of the Supreme Court’s pronouncements in Marakahand Jonesand as such the book, although in sentiment is reflective of these seminal cases, cannot reference them directly. This is where perhaps the publisher might want to use some digital magic of their own by turning the book into a digitally interactive hyperlinked online e-zine that can be updateable by a click of a mouse. Perhaps it will become an App, accessible on your smart phone or iPad. 

Whatever the format, this book truly is a “how to” guide to the digital world, reminiscent of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the subtext is - read this book and “Don’t Panic.” More accurately, read this book and you will become more skilful at technological advocacy.

 

Silence in the Court! The Art of Being an Advocate

In a few days, the law school will be a riot of noise as the 3Ls start the three-week intensive advocacy course. In those three-weeks the students will learn the fine art of advocacy by performing advocacy exercises for members of the bench and bar. They will receive real time feedback and start to develop their own unique advocacy voice. The development of an advocate is continual as we hone our style and abilities on a daily basis. It is through interaction with others we become advocates. This course is preparation for that life-long journey.

Advocacy is not just a matter of projecting one’s oral attributes but involves the ability to remain quiet at just the right moment. Appreciating when it is time to speak and when it is not, is as much a skill as cross-examination. Silence in advocacy comes in many forms. It involves the timing of pauses in that “killer” cross-examination as much as it involves waiting for your turn to speak during argument. How you carry yourself during those quieter moments is also a mark of good advocacy. Silence in the courtroom is, therefore, something to learn and to practice in order to be an effective and successful advocate.

An advocate should not feel pressured to cross examine or re-examine a witness in every case but silence can be a bar to raising an issue on appeal. An objection unmade is an objection lost. Sometimes silence is not golden but is perceived as acquiescence. It must be used like any other advocacy tool - at the right place and at the right time for maximum effect.

Silence is also equated with brevity. Good advocacy is also knowing when to stop speaking. An argument is not made stronger or more persuasive by repetition. Neither does it ring truer. Much of law school is geared toward teaching students to be succinct, to the point and brief, both in writing and in speech. In R v Royz, 2009 SCC 13, Justice Binnie, in an oral judgment, eloquently suggests that “brevity is the soul of a jury charge” where the key function is to “decant and simplify,” as recommended by Chief Justice Lamer in R v Jacquard1997 CanLII 374 (SCC). Lawyers should heed this advice as well, be they declaiming on a legal issue or urging a jury to acquit.

Listening, as a silent activity, is also an important part of advocacy. Students will come to realize that the next question is predicated on that active silence. Preparation is important but so is flexibility. Creating an examination of a witness is an exercise in adaptive listening. A good advocate must be open to different avenues of presentation should the matter require it. However, an advocate must be able to recognize when those avenues are there. Seeing is hearing. Hearing is listening. Listening requires silence.

In a few days, the din of the hallways will recede as the students close the doors of their classrooms and practice their art and their profession. I will walk those quiet hallways with a sincere wish that the students will find their professional voice in the presence, not the absence, of silence.

 

 

 

What is Advocacy?

December is a time for reflection. Law classes are over and marking begins in earnest. It also a time of anticipation as I ready myself for the University of Calgary, Faculty of Law Advocacy “block” weeks starting the first week in January. This is a compulsory program for the 3Ls, which originally was taught over the course of an intensive week to introduce students to fundamental trial skills. Two years ago, I was approached by Alice Woolley, the then Associate Dean, to take on the program as part of the faculty’s curriculum renewal involving the integration of experiential learning and performance-based studies into the regular law school offerings. The advocacy program was already just that - hands on and practice orientated - but it needed something else to make it unique and to make it the capstone course for the new curriculum.

To do this, we placed those fundamental skills in the context of a real trial scenario. In the past, at the end of the block week, the students would present their case before a “trial judge.” The focus then was not on the trial itself but on the presentation of the trial skills. After the course revision, the trial became more than the vessel for the skills, it became the culmination of those skills. Instead of the students performing in court, they interacted with the case in a meaningful way. They learned to appreciate the effort required to take on a complex file for a client. They began to recognize that being a lawyer does not entail simply getting up on your feet and performing. Rather, the students understood that being an effective lawyer involved connecting the fundamental skills with legal knowledge, common sense and ethical obligations of the profession. They realized that the skills themselves are but a piece of the trial puzzle.

I like to think the advocacy course is not about advocacy skills but is about being a skilled advocate. This concept is best explained by Justices Cory, Iacobucci, and Bastarache in R v Rose. The issue in the case involved the timing of a jury address in a criminal case. Pursuant to s. 651 of the Criminal Code, the defence, if they chose to lead evidence, would be required to address the jury first. In the case of Rose, the Crown, who addressed the jury last, impugned the accused’s credibility leaving the defence unable to respond to the allegation. On Rose’s appeal against conviction for second degree murder, the defence argued the jury address requirement under s. 651 infringed section 7 as it denied the accused’s right to make full answer and defence.  The SCC was split 5 to 4 on the decision with Cory, Iacobucci, Bastarache JJ writing the slim majority decision (although Gonthier J concurred with them, Madame Justice L’Heureux-Dube wrote her own concurring judgment) made the following general comments on advocacy in paragraph 108:

“Skilful advocacy involves taking the information acquired as a result of the trial ‑‑ the evidence, the other party’s theory of the case, and various other, intangible factors ‑‑ and weaving this information together with law, logic, and rhetoric into a persuasive argument.”

The trio acknowledged the role of persuasive advocacy in a jury trial, but in their view, addressing the jury last would not give the accused a persuasive advantage.

Although, it is the sentiment of the court in this above quoted sentence, which rings true to me and frames my approach to the advocacy course, I would be remiss if I didn’t refer to the dissent decision in Rose authored by Justice Binnie on behalf of Lamer CJC, McLachlin J and Major J. The dissent also refers to the “skillful advocate,” but in their view, skillful persuasion can mean the difference between guilt and innocence. Justice Binnie explains this position in paragraphs 18 and 19:

18 While it would be comforting to think that in a criminal trial facts speak for themselves, the reality is that “facts” emerge from evidence that is given shape by sometimes skilful advocacy into a coherent and compelling prosecution. The successful prosecutor downplays or disclaims the craftsmanship involved in shaping the story.  Such modesty should be treated with scepticism. The rules of “prosecutorial” advocacy have not changed much since Shakespeare put a “just the facts” speech in the mouth of Mark Antony:

 

For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,

Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech

To stir men’s blood; I only speak right on.

I tell you that which you yourselves do know,

Show you sweet Cæsar’s wounds, poor poor dumb mouths,

And bid them speak for me.

 

Julius Cæsar, Act III, Scene ii.

19 While few counsel would claim Shakespearean powers of persuasion, the fact remains that in an age burdened with “spin doctors” it should be unnecessary to belabour the point that the same underlying facts can be used to create very different impressions depending on the advocacy skills of counsel.  In the realities of a courtroom it is often as vital for a party to address the “spin” as it is to address the underlying “fact”.  As was pointed out by the late Justice John Sopinka, in “The Many Faces of Advocacy”, in [1990] Advocates’ Soc. J., 3, at p. 7:

Notwithstanding that your witnesses may have been reticent and forgetful, and your cross-examinations less than scintillating, the case can still be won in final argument.

Certainly, there is a difference of opinion in the power of persuasion. Yet, I believe both the majority and the dissent are right about the importance of a skillful advocate at trial.

The quote from Shakespeare (as an aside read my previous posting on the use of verse in court decisions – Poetic Justice) leads me even further back in time to find support for the skillful advocate. Socrates, famous for his unapologetic jury address and his wit, employs persuasion in both senses as described in the Rose decision, albeit ultimately to no avail. The ancient Greeks and Romans were of course the masters of rhetoric. Although some may question their form over content approach, it is useful to recall Quintilian, the Roman rhetorician, offering advice to the new orator. In book 3.5 of the Orators Education, Quintilian suggests there are three aims of the orator: to instruct (docet), to move (moveat) and to delight (delectrat).  Cicero, who is Ancient Rome’s best known orator, left many examples of his skillful advocacy in his writings on oratory. Although his advice, to the modern reader may appear at times contrived and overly formalistic, his emphasis on invention, preparation, and strategy is still relevant today. Hortensia, also an admired Roman orator, further enhanced the ancient art of advocacy by imbuing it with a sense of social justice.  

Yet, there is no need to go so far back in time to find examples of great advocacy: Queen Elizabeth I and her rousing Tilbury speech, the deliberate yet inspirational speeches of Abraham Lincoln, Clarence Darrow’s home spun ingenuity, the fictional flare of Atticus Finch, the legendary appellate lawyering of J.J. Robinette, the written advocacy of Madame Justice Wilson, the consummate advocate G. Arthur Martin, and of course, the courtroom “pugilist” Eddie Greenspan. These are just a few of those skillful advocates who can inspire us to think beyond what is possible and be humbled by the power of persuasion.

What is advocacy? It is a mixture of knowledge, preparation, and persuasion. It requires a clarity of thought and a need to have the courage of your convictions. It requires vision, professionalism and passion. This is what I hope our new law school graduates will achieve in January 2017.