Taking a Quick Survey of the Legal Landscape Through the Intersection of the Public and the Private Living Space

Sometimes law creeps into the most unlikely areas. I was sharing an article by Alex Bozikovic, the architecture critic in the Globe and Mail, with my son, who is studying for his Master’s Degree in Architecture. The article comments on a structure, a house, designed for a modern family, who requires multigenerational living space for aging parents. The plan of the house is at once typical, with kitchen, bedrooms and living space, but at the same time atypical as it accommodates “kitchens.” At the heart of the home is a lively transparent “public” space connecting the generations so, as suggested by the owner, to “allow us to be together when we wanted to be.” My son commented approvingly of, what he called, “the stratigraphy of semipublic and private” running throughout the design. What struck me about his remark and the design of the house was the acceptable integration and embracement of the public into the private. This caused me to pause and consider what this sentiment and the design behind it means for the future of the legal landscape.

In my criminal law focused mind, the immediate correlation this design concept has with law matters is in the area of section 8, search and seizure, which provides protection of privacy rights. As with all Charter rights, this protection is not absolute but is framed against the permissible intrusions into our private sphere for the purposes of law enforcement. To ensure this frame fits and sits properly within that privacy sphere, judicial oversight is required. The frame should sit lightly yet must cover enough of that sphere to ensure public safety is not compromised. Similarly, the greater good must not be advanced at the expense of who we are as a society. This delicate balancing is done through the judicial gatekeeper’s lens, which is carefully calibrated through case law with a “cut once measure twice” philosophy. Indeed, the recent decisions of Marakah and Jones, which I commented on in previous posts you can access here (Marakhah) and here (Jones), serve as an example of this balancing and re-balancing of privacy rights. The majority of the Supreme Court seem to be recognizing that privacy is not a static concept nor is it a contained one but is a changeable concept requiring the law to be as nuanced as those conceptions of privacy seem to be.

However, when I look at how architectural space is conceived, I wonder if our legal conception of space is in step with this living space formulation. In terms of Marakah and Jones, which only now recognizes the integration of technology into our “living” spaces and therefore changes our legal conception of those spaces, the concern becomes more fundamental: does the generation that fashioned “reasonable expectation of privacy” truly understand what this generation expects from their “reasonable expectation of privacy?” Public and private are not in opposition, but as vividly exemplified in the multigenerational design of the house, they live together harmoniously. But it goes further: public and private flow from one extreme to another continuously as the core meaning of these terms ebb and flow. When my son refers to the “semi-public” aspects of the house design, he isn’t just referencing the transparent walls which permits the public into that living space but is also referencing the semi-public inner space of the home, which fluxes between one generational family to another. Is our law that flexible? Can it understand the layering and flow of the new reality of space, which embraces public and private occurring within the same time frame and essentially creates a collapsing of time as space recombines these terms into one “space”?

The irony of this “new” conception of space is that it is not in fact new. In Ancient Rome and in Ancient Greece, the home or domus occupied by the upper class was both publicus, of the people, and privus, of the individual. The Ancient Roman domus, for example, was often sandwiched between commercial premises, which may be owned by the home owner as well. Additionally, the living space inside the domus was open to the public demands of the “master of the house” or the dominus, who would receive daily morning greetings (salutatio) from his clients (those whom he gave monetary and economic support to in exchange for their support often in the political arena). For more on this, start here. It is only as society expanded that our concepts of public and private separated. Now that technology has brought us in close contact again, it might be time to be open to a totally modern approach to the legally constructed frame of privacy rights.

Consistent with this view, is further commentary made in Bozikovic’s article calling for a renewed approach to land use laws, which traditionally precludes multigenerational home design. The article maintains that post World War Two, the vision of people living separate and apart but together in one community, was the essence of “tidy” modernity. But that vision is contrived as life cannot be contained in a pre-fabricated frame but must be permitted to bleed over the edges. The need to blur the lines between private and public may be contrary to the bright lines we are taught to expect from the law, but the alternative may be just as murky. Without a living and breathing law that is reflective of the generation who must live by it, we, sitting in the legal landscape, will be left behind.

This brings me to the final connection this article brought to mind, which is the future use of predictive analytics in legal decision-making. In this area the collision of private and public space is a matter of concern rather than a matter of celebration. If the Charter is designed to protect informational privacy as a matter of self-autonomy and dignity, then the prospect of our waking moments being mined for data in order to suggest what we may or may not do in the future is legally concerning. This concern becomes magnified when such big data is funnelled into a “black-box” algorithms which uses the information to deny people bail or sentence them to long terms of incarceration. This concern with transparency and accountability in the realm of analytics is now front and centre in the soon to be “live” European Union General Date Protection Regulation or GDPR. Although the legislation was approved in 2016, the rules contained therein will be enforced as of May 25, 2018. This regulation of data privacy couples with the AI Now Institute 2017 Report on the use of Artificial Intelligence or AI mechanisms through the lens of civil rights and liberties, bias and inclusion and ethics is a must read for those legal minds concerned with the computerized mind making choices and decisions that impact life, liberty and security of the person. In Canada, we need to be doing more open access discussion of these thorny issues which intersect law, technology and social science. For more information, I highly recommend a google search and follow on Twitter my colleague at the University of Calgary law, Emily Laidlaw, who does research and writing in the area of regulation of the internet. Her blog postings on the faculty’s ABlawg website can be found here. Finally, I add to this eclectic mix, a recent article based upon a conference in Barcelona on  Internet, Law & Politics entitled “Personal Data Protection as a Nonfunctional Requirement in the Smart City’s Development” by Lorenzo Dell Corte (Tilburg University & TU Delft), Bastiaan van Loenen (TU Delft), and Colette Cuijpers (Tilburg University) and the intersection between issues of privacy, regulation and the support for the Smart City integrating this new technology.

The kind of interdisciplinary work needed to truly unpack and understand these issues and the significance to the legal landscape is possible and needs to be done. In some ways the scholarly approach needed, involving law, architecture, technology and politics, is a micro-reflection of the “modern” spaces we will be living in and constructing in the near future. Considering that, it is time to broaden the legal landscape and allow the private and public to come in.

 

 

Some Thoughts On Teaching Evidence

This week I began teaching Evidence, a required course for the 2Ls. This is my first time teaching the course and yet the rules and principles of evidence seem second nature to me. True, this can partly be explained by my legal career, involving criminal trial and appellate practice, in which I used these principles on a very practical basis. Perhaps, it can also be explained by the fact these rules and principles are generally a matter of common sense and human experience. Certainly, the basic rule of the admissibility of evidence is predicated on that concept: admissible evidence, as a matter of common sense and experience, is relevant when its introduction tends to make a fact more or less probable than the fact would be without it.

However, this initial feeling of comfort and familiarity with the rules and principles of evidence is perhaps why teaching and learning evidence is so crucial to a modern legal education. True, many of the 2Ls in my course will not be trial and appellate lawyers and many of them won’t be obsessively sifting through Supreme Court of Canada judgments to find thematic connections. Rather, evidence is meaningful not because of the rote application of the rules but because of the underlying purpose of these rules which cause us to question the rules and principles themselves. In many ways, this exploration of evidence leads us to re-consider the meaning of law itself.

To make my case, I will refer to some examples from this first week of the course by starting with this concept of “common sense.” Indeed, throughout the trial process, common sense and human experience is a common theme, albeit traditionally it is often perceived through the lens of judicial experience. In support of this contention, read Justice Moldaver’s approach to many criminal law issues in which he applies the “common-sense” paradigm, such as in the 2012 Walle decision or the 2015 Tatton case. I have written further on these decisions here and here. Or, if your bent is more to the civil side, read the 2012 Supreme Court of Canada’s decision in Clements v. Clements where the “but for” test for causation is applied in a “robust common sense fashion” by the majority. However, it is in the consideration of the community sense of how legal constructions are perceived, which seems to be now recognized as a legitimate reference point in judicial interpretation. A previous posting I wrote on this issue considering the SCC case of Anthony-Cook discusses this very point.

Another evidential concept requiring meta-reflection involves the first matter of consideration in the course: what is evidence in the broadest sense, outside of the legal premise. This question leads one to realize that evidence is not just an old shoe or a scrap of paper starting with the words “IOU.” Evidence is about relationships. There are no absolutes in evidence nor are there inherent qualities of an item which makes something, anything, a piece of admissible evidence. These things can only be viewed in relation to the “other.” The shoe is evidence only as it relates to the expert witness who describes the tread as similar to the tread found at the scene of the crime. The scrap of paper becomes evidence of an intention or a promise to pay in a civil action. The above describes just one sort of relationship evidence engenders. There are many more, replete with meaning both inside and outside of the courtroom.

One such outside connection is based on the overarching purpose of evidence as it relates to the truth-seeking function of the trial process. This is a cornerstone of our adversarial system and why we, almost smugly, suggest our form of justice is superior to the investigatory form found in continental Europe. Bringing differing facts to court permits the trier of fact to get at the truth of the matter bringing to light the real events. But what is “truth”? Is it an absolute or is it merely a chimera of what was and is, therefore unattainable? As the historian Carl Becker, a strong proponent of historical relativism, suggested in his provocative piece, “Everyman His Own Historian” published in 1932, the present recollection of the past is really a creation of our own history. Essentially, he argues, as we describe past events we imbed created memories “as may be necessary to orient us in our little world of endeavor.” Are we then constructing a false sense of comfort and security when we suggest our evidentiary rules advance the “truth-seeking” function of our justice system? These are the kind of questions to be asked when faced with the law of evidence.

Another example will make my final point on the expanding properties of thinking about evidence. After discussing the basic rule of admissibility in the second class of the course, we discussed the general exclusionary discretion which permits the trial judge to exclude admissible evidence if the prejudicial effect of the evidence outweighs the probative value. The obvious first question arising from this exception to the basic rule of admissibility involves the meaning of “discretion.” What does it mean, in the legal context, to exercise discretion and what are the repercussions of exercising or not exercising such power? Notice, I used the word “power” to describe the exercise of discretion. Notice, I mentioned that using discretion creates an outcome, of which some will cheer and others will decry. Discretion as a power, as the excellent casebook used in the course, Evidence: Principles and Problems edited by Deslisle, Stuart, Tanovich and Dufraimont suggests, can also be revered or jeered. As pointed out in the readings (pages 176-178), discretion can be a tool of the authoritarian state as every tyrant imposes his will through the exercise of discretion. Conversely, discretion can be the mark of the most tolerant and accepting society as it considers an individual as a concept worthy of respect and personhood even in that individual’s darkest moments. Discretion therefore can be the face of compassion or the mask of fear and terror. In the case of exclusion, discretion is a delicate balancing act in which the rule of law acts as the tightrope and the trial judge as the safety net. But, whether this in fact takes place provides us with more questions to consider.

It is true that teaching about evidence can amount to naval gazing with that inward eye, which can leave us in a state of doubt about almost everything. However, this constant drive to re-examine and re-assess our traditional rules and principles is what, in my view, make our rule of law admirable and meaningful. In this light, perhaps talking about evidence in a law classroom is one of the most “relevant and material” journey in a law career.

 

Riesberry – Does It Get Past The Post?

Fraud has been around for centuries. So has the concept of cheating at play. In R v Riesberry, the Supreme Court of Canada attempts to put 2 and 2 together, so to speak (albeit randomly!), to clarify the meaning of “game” under s. 209, which criminalizes “every one who, with intent to defraud any person, cheats while playing a game or in holding stakes for a game or in betting.” Game is defined under s.197 as a “game of chance or mixed chance and skill.” What was at issue in Riesberry was the favourite Ontario pastime of horse racing and Mr. Riesberry’s penchant for winning. In this case, winning by drugging two horses. Although the Court defined “game” as including a horse race, in my view the more interesting aspect of the decision is the Court’s comments on the fraud charges and what I will suggest is a failure to fully integrate criminal law principles.

Justice Cromwell, speaking for the unanimous court (although the case was not heard by the full panel of judges but of a smaller panel of 7), essentially relied upon previous SCC decisions on the actus reus requirements of fraud, specifically Olan (1978) and Theroux (1993) and the companion case Zlatic. The actus reus for fraud is comprised of two parts as per section 380, an act of “deceit, falsehood, and other fraudulent means” coupled with, according to Theroux and Zlatic, a deprivation “caused by the prohibited act,” which may result in an actual loss or a risk to the “pecuniary interest” of the victim. In the earlier decision Olan, the court expanded on the phrase “other fraudulent means” by defining it as any act “which can properly be stigmatized as dishonest.”

Before we move onto Justice Cromwell’s position, let’s unpack the significance and the impact of the Olan and Theroux/Zlatic decisions.

First, Olan, an Ontario case about a substantial fraud involving a convoluted fact scenario of companies within companies. However, as Justice Dickson (pre-Chief Justice days), on behalf of the full Court, astutely reminds the reader “One of the dangers in this case is the risk of being overwhelmed by factual minutiae. Superficially, the facts are complicated. Stripped of unessentials, it is clear what took place.” Of note is the manner in which this decision is structured, with a full recitation of the relevant law before the facts of the case are outlined. Clearly, according to Justice Dickson, the facts are not the issue as the lower court should have realized, this is an “easy” case of fraud. Hence the broad definition of “other fraudulent means,” which nicely concurs with Lord Diplock’s assessment in the House of Lords Scott decision, three years earlier. In Scott, Lord Diplock gave a generous definition of the phrase by suggesting “other fraudulent means” can involve “dishonesty of any kind.” Justice Dickson, approved of this passage and Justice Cartwright’s earlier 1963 decision in Cox and Paton to arrive at the now oft quoted meaning of the phrase as found in s. 380 as “not in the nature of a falsehood or a deceit” but acts that can “encompass all other means which can properly be stigmatized as dishonest.”

Although Justice Dickson also discussed the further actus reus requirements of deprivation, this aspect was thoroughly canvassed in the Theroux/Zlatic cases. Theroux is one of those great cases indicative of the unsettled Court of the early 1990s. Rendered in the 1993 when the Court grappled with the meaning and content of mens rea in light of the subjectivity principle and the objectivity “creep” from the driving cases of Hundal and the manslaughter decision in Creighton.  This was a time when the Court’s decisions were visceral and driven by ideology, when members of the Court aligned themselves both with other members of the Court and against other members of the Court. To prove my point just read the following SCC cases rendered that year: Cooper on the “slightly relaxed” intention found under s. 229(a)(ii) murder,  as previously mentioned Hundal and Creighton, and three further cases on the presence of objective criminal liability in Naglik, Gosset, and Finlay. Not only was mens rea on the Court’s mind but also an expansion of evidential and procedural rules as in KGB, Plant, Wiley, Grant, Levogiannis and Osolin as well as the meaning of s. 7 of the Charter as in Rodriguez and Morgentaler.

It is in this context that Theroux was decided with 3 decisions which concurred in the result:  from Justice Sopinka (with Lamer, CJ), Justice McLachlin’s majority decision (with LaForest, Gonthier, and Cory JJ.) and Justice L’Heureux-Dube’s own decision. The fragmented decision is connected to the companion Zlatic case where Justice Sopinka and the Chief Justice dissented as stated in the opening parargraphs of Theroux, because “there are several issues in my colleague's analysis of the law of fraud with which I have difficulty.” One of these “issues” involve the tension between objective and subjective mens rea and the Court’s inability to envision how the traditional criminal law world would look when that Pandora’s box containing an objective form of liability is opened. We are still feeling the effects of this conundrum today, which deserves another blog posting all together. In any event, Theroux is typically now quoted for Justice McLachlin’s (as she then was) clarification that mens rea signifies the guilty mind and does not encompass all of the mental element requirements of an offence as the actus reus too has a mental aspect requiring the prohibited act to be a voluntary act “of a willing mind at liberty to make a definite choice or decision” (See Taschereau J. in the 1962 King case). For our purposes, however, Justice McLachlin reiterated fraud’s actus reus as described in Olan with a reminder that Olan was a departure from precedent as it marked a broadening of fraud by removing the requirement for deceit and replacing it with a “general concept of dishonesty” to be objectively determined and by permitting deprivation to include a risk or “imperilling” of economic interest.

Viewing Riesberry in this context, we should not be surprised that the Court unanimously accepted this precedent and found the act of “cheating” to be an act worthy of criminal sanction. However, what should surprise us about the decision is how the Court treated the required causal connection between the dishonest act and the deprivation. Justice Cromwell easily made this crucial connection through the time-honoured “but for” test, wherein the trier asks “but for” the accused’s actions would this consequence have occurred or, as in this case, “it created the risk of betting on a horse that, but for Mr. Riesberry’s dishonest acts, might have won and led to a payout to the persons betting on that horse.” This “risk of prejudice to the economic interests of bettors” provided a direct causal link required to prove the actus reus of the fraud.

Although to Justice Cromwell this linkage was elementary, the decision on this issue is disquieting. Causality in criminal law has received much attention by the Supreme Court of Canada.  It has been a particularly difficult issue in cases where there may be multiple causes or, as in Mr. Riesberry’s case, there is a temporal issue. Causation is also a civil law concept, arising in tort cases. Like the tension between subjective liability, a traditional criminal law precept, and objective liability coming to criminal law from the regulatory or civil arena, the concept of “criminal” causality has been a long-standing subject in criminal cases.  

The question of factual causation or the “but for” test referred to and applied by Justice Cromwell has indeed been straight forward and easy to apply. But the issue of legal causation, the concept of culpability and where the criminal law should draw the line has been less easily determined. Legal causation sees the “but for” but wants to know to what degree is the accused the cause and is it sufficient to attract the full force of the criminal law. This was the issue in Harbottle, where the degree of causation required in a first-degree murder charge was considered, and interestingly enough was decided in 1993 when Theroux was considered. It was also the issue in Nette where second-degree murder was considered and the entire concept of criminal causation was considered. To attract criminal culpability not only must the “but for” test be fulfilled but the actions of the accused must also be a “significant contributing cause” of the consequence. Since Nette, this legal test has been applied such as in the recent case of Maybin involving a manslaughter. Not only did Justice Cromwell not enter into this legal analysis, he did not even mention its existence. Considering fraud is akin to theft in that it is a “true crime,” which attracts stigma upon conviction, the legal concept of causation should have been considered even on these facts.

Had it been considered, the final analysis may very well have been the same but the case, left as it is, seems unfinished. Without getting into it, another area of disconnect in this decision is with the concept of deprivation as a “risk” as opposed to an actuality. This position seems consistent with previous decisions of the court such as Mabior and Hutchinson as it related to fraud vitiating consent under s. 265(3). Again, no analytical connection is made here. This also seems decidedly “unmodern.”

As early as 1990 (see Starr v Houlden), the Supreme Court of Canada had begun to embrace the “holistic approach” to law, refusing to be pigeon-holed by the past (specifically see paragraph 16 of the 2011 Sarrazin case and approval of this concept as recommended by Moldaver, J.A., as a then dissenting voice in the Ontario Court of Appeal decision). This recognition and desire for integration has also seen traction in the broader societal context. Riesberry, by failing to integrate principles and make these holistic connections, leaves us to consider the pieces of the puzzle instead of the picture as a whole.

 

 

A Fresh Look at Fearon: How Language Informs The Law

A case commentary typically expounds on the legal doctrinal issues raised by the decision and rarely looks at the judgment as a literary document. The final full SCC judgment of the year, Fearon, has been much discussed on the doctrinal level but as a final 2014 legal send-off, a different kind of case commentary is in order.

On a literary linguistic level, the Fearon case is a fascinating example of how the majority and the dissent employ differing or shall we say dueling word usage. The choice of terminology is not only intended to signal a very particular perspective but firmly connects the decisions to doctrinal perspectives emanating from prior cases. This continuity with the past provides precedential value to the two decisions and challenges us, as readers, to determine which decision is really the right one. Hand in hand with this analysis, is the revealing metaphors abounding in these decisions.

Let’s first look at the majority decision written by Justice Cromwell. The first term used in this decision is the phrase “truly incidental” as in the police generally (note that the general versus the specific is also underlined in the majority decision) have a common law power to search a cell phone incident to arrest if the search is truly incidental to the arrest. Not just incidental but truly incidental. In the judgment there are 22 incidents of this phrase, all in the majority decision! Yet, in terms of previous SCC cases, the term appears only in the Caslake decision, which found an “inventory” search of an accused’s vehicle, hours after arrest, invalid as such a search was not “truly” incidental. For a search to be truly incidental, there must be a “valid purpose” connected to the arrest. By the way, the term “valid purpose” pops up 5 times in the majority judgment.

Caslake is referred to 15 times in the judgment, with 12 references in the majority and 3 in the dissent. The dissent refers to the generalities of Caslake - as to when a warrantless search may be appropriate - and does not mimic the s. 8 language as the majority does. Although “truly incidental” is found in only 2 SCC criminal cases, the term is used in lower court nomenclature. In Ontario, including Fearon, there are about 46 cases using the term but they all occur after 1998, the year the SCC decision in Caslake was released. Although the Manitoba Court of Appeal decided the lower court decision in 1995, Caslake, was not, as yet, part of the s.8 vocabulary.

Before we move onto other terminology, note that the phrase “strictly incidental” is used only once as is the phrase “properly incidental.” According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, “truly” is defined, for Fearon purposes, as “without question or doubt” and “strictly” means “rigorously conforming to principle or a norm or condition.”

The word “prompt” is used 31 times, with only two of those occasions by the dissent and for very different reasons. The majority uses the word “prompt,” defined as “performed readily or immediately” to provide the underlying reason for a search incident to arrest as the immediate need to investigate the offence by gathering crucial evidence.  It is the timeliness and the speed with which the police must pursue this investigation, which underlies the majority decision. Conversely, one of the times the dissent uses “promptly” is in reference to Justice Cromwell’s majority decision and the other occurrence is to highlight how quickly the police, in the case, applied for a warrant when case law suggested they needed to do so. Thus the term “immediate” or “immediately” is used often throughout as well.

Another phrase used liberally throughout the majority decision is the phrase “law enforcement objectives,” which is used 26 times, 4 of which is in the dissent. Again, 3 of those 4 occasions in the dissent are direct references to Justice Cromwell’s majority decision. This term is used in 4 previous SCC cases, 3 of which are search and seizure cases being the Law case from 2002 – privacy interest in stolen property; Chehil – sniffer dog case involving the search of vehicles from 2013; and the Stillman case of 1997 the case on the seizure of bodily samples and discussed at length in Fearon. The term “law enforcement” is further described in the majority judgment as being “important” 12 times in the majority.

The word use is much different in the dissent. Indeed, the atmosphere of the two decisions differs dramatically. Justice Cromwell’s decision has a law and order aspect reminding us of the need for investigatory powers to enhance and uphold the rule of law. As will be discussed below, the choice of words highlights this theme through the use of metaphors involving balancing and weighing and metaphors involving the limitation of space and time.

In contrast, the dissent is a decision marked by Charter values and modernity – it reads like a law school paper on constitutional rights and freedoms, inviting the reader to muse on the lofty ideals crucial to a free and democratic society. Indeed that term, “free and democratic society” appears three times in the dissent (plus “democracy” appearing once) and appears there only with no such Charter values relied upon in the majority, other than the balancing of rights required under s.8.

Other Charter values involving individual rights and freedoms are also relied upon in the dissent decision but it is the word “privacy” that trumps them all. This word is used 123 times in the decision with the word used 37 times in the majority but a whopping 86 times in the dissent. Certainly “privacy” is a word that at some point must be used by the majority when the decision speaks to the balancing of rights under s. 8 but more telling is the use of the word “private” in the decision. It occurs once in the majority but only in reference to strip searches and “private areas.” In the dissent however “private” occurs 27 times to describe “private digital devices,” “private lives,” and the “private sphere,” among some of the uses of the term. Again, this term is signaling the core of the dissent’s decision that privacy is at stake in the case and therefore it is privacy and the living of the “good” life protected by Charter values which are be the controlling issues in the case.

Not only are certain terms and phrases utilized to bolster each of these decisions but the decisions use the literary device of metaphor to solidify and justify the decisions as well. Thus, both the majority and dissent use balancing and weighing metaphors (25 times) to support different outcomes. The majority relies heavily on space metaphors and the desire to delineate the space wherein the rule of law must reside requiring the use of the words “scope” and “parameters” and “limits” and “points” by the majority. The majority also uses work or structure metaphors, using the term “framework,” “task,” and “link.” The dissent uses social words connoting society and community such as “lives,” “relationships” and “intimate” with a liberal use of emotive terms such as “likes and dislikes, our fears, hopes, opinions, beliefs and ideas.” The metaphor of “big brother” also looms large as a pointed reference to Orwell’s 1984 figures in the dissent. In contrast the concept of freedom and the ability to choose one’s own path is highlighted.

There are many other nuggets in this judgment worth discussing as a counter-point or enhancement of a pure doctrinal study of the case. It will indeed be interesting if any future SCC cases utilize this stark linguistic contrast or if it is merely a result of the impassioned differences on the SCC on this particular issue, which determined choice of language. 

I must at this point acknowledge Professor Jonnette Watson-Hamilton, for whom I did some research on metaphors and language many years ago while pursuing my Masters at the University of Calgary, Faculty of Law. She introduced me to the critical theories of language involving the use of metaphors in legal decision-making – a “truly” illuminating experience! Review her articles written to access her publications involving language and metaphor.

For further information on this, start with the seminal works by cognitive linguist George Lakoff, particularly Metaphors We Live By, which Lakoff wrote with Mark Johnson. There are now multiple scholarly articles involving metaphors and linguistic techniques in legal discourse. The starting point for this is found in the articles written by Robert Cover, a fantastic legal scholar, sadly now deceased. Read his two seminal articles entitled Violence and the Word and Nomos and Narrative. I have also written a previous blog on Cover called Is Violence The Word? Additionally, I have written two previous blogs using metaphors as part of the legal analysis in Impression and Claim: Are They Both The Same? and in Blogs As Graffiti.

 

My #clawbies2014 Nomination 2014: CanLII Connects

It is Clawbie or Canadian Law Blog Awards time again and this year I am nominating CanLII Connects. Now before I justify my choice, I want to make it perfectly clear that I am a proud contributor to CanLII Connects but this is NOT the reason why I strongly believe CanLII Connects should be recognized. Instead, it is the concept, the very idea of CanLII Connects that drives my nomination. It is the brainchild or should I say web-baby of Colin Lachance, who had a vision of an open web-based co-operative cyberspace for legal thought and innovation; a safe space in which lawyers could exchange ideas freely and without prejudice. A space unbounded by the four walls of an office, a boardroom or a courtroom where lawyers could share knowledge as well as their passion for law across Canada and the global community.

And so at the close of 2014, I tip my blog to CanLII Connects and all those bloggers who post insightful commentaries and help me and many thousands of others to understand that the rule of law is not just a compendium of static principles but is rather something more organic as they derive a deep richness from the multi-faceted perspectives of CanLII Connects.

 Bravo to CanLII and to the dedicated CanLII Connects Community!

A Short Note On Why Behavioural Economics Should Matter to Criminal Lawyers

In some sense this blog posting is both a book review and a legal analysis. It is a book review as this blog arises from my reading of the Daniel Kahneman’s book entitled Thinking, Fast and Slow. It is also a legal analysis as the ideas and theories arising from Kahneman’s Nobel Prize winning research form the basis of my suggestion that it is time to critique some traditional criminal law principles. In the end what this blog is about is connections and how we, as in the legal profession “we,” must be cognizant of new and innovative developments in other subject areas, in this case social sciences, in order to craft new and innovative arguments. New arguments can lead to new law and this book might just be the catalyst for this kind of change.

I will not belabour the specifics of the book nor will I give a deep analysis of it. That kind of discussion should be done in a formal setting as in a well-reasoned journal article but I will leave that to a later opportunity. Essentially, Kahneman and his research partner did a series of break through behavioural testing which turned the field of economics on its head.  The two researchers, as psychologists, approached the construction of the rational Economic or Econ person in a totally different manner than the economists did previously. When I say previously, I mean the theories had been in place and used for decades. This would be, in Kahneman’s view, a good example of theory-induced blindness. In any event, Kahneman showed that the basic Econ, which was a staple figure in economic theory, was not in fact rational and at times, even down right irrational. Well, not really irrational, as the research showed there were a pattern to the behavioural responses but not the expected pattern of the Econ. Instead the Econ was really a Human – someone who made choices, often seemingly economically irrational choices, not based on the utility theory favoured by the economists but based on other more ephemeral reasons including fear, loss, and bias. What caused such a stir in the field of economics was that Kahneman and his partner could actually prove, through research data, that this was so. The rational Econ was a false promise and not the stuff upon which sound economic theory should be based. Additionally, what economic theory needed were better reference points – starting points from which the Human could become a better decision maker. In other words, the Econ was not working with a full deck or full information upon which these economic decisions or even life changing decisions should be made.

There is, of course, more to the book and the prize winning economic theory, called prospect theory, which arises out of Kahneman’s research. For instance, the first part of the book dwells on the cognitive theories of how and why we make decisions or choices. According to Kahneman we have an intuitive System 1, which thinks fast enabling us to make split second decisions and gives us speedy answers to questions like one plus one or the colour of the sky. We also have a slower or lazier System 2, which kicks in when we need to give a decision some thought such as the answer to 124 times 26 or remembering the lines of a poem we may have learned when we were young. These systems do not work totally independently. Although being aware of these two systems we can improve the correctness of our outcomes by slowing down our thought processes to allow System 2 to take over so we can improve our chances of “getting it right,” mostly we reflexively defer to our System 1, particularly when faced with exigent circumstances. This often produces acceptable outcomes as our System 1 works so fast as it is primed with crucial experiential information. However, these stored memory fragments are sometimes incorrect leading us to make bad choices and erroneous decisions. In those instances, we have no real choice but to simply go along for the ride.

So how does this lead to a critical analysis of legal principles? By extrapolating and applying these research based theories to the underlying reason for certain legal constructs, we can argue that certain unquestioned legal principles used in criminal law such as the “reasonable person” standard and the well-accepted premise that we intend the natural consequences of our actions (see my blog on the Walle case), may in fact no longer be valid. It is time, therefore, for the legal profession to break out of our theory-induced blindness and integrate, in the appropriate case, theories from other areas of the science and humanities to ensure that the law is a real reflection of society. Now, doesn’t that sound reasonable?

Section 23.1: The "Limitless" Criminal Law - Episode 28 of the Ideablawg Podcasts on the Criminal Code of Canada

One of the interesting learning moments for me, resulting from this Criminal Code podcast, is the realization that the criminal law has changed in the past three decades, which, in common law time, is a fairly short period of time. Certainly, this section, which we will consider today, s. 23.1 of the Criminal Code, is an example of how the Code can and does change the practice of criminal law. To give perspective, s. 23.1 was added to the Code in the 1985 amendments, while I was in law school. I recall those amendments mostly because I had to “re-learn” the section numbers of the Criminal Code. I particularly recall how the assault section, s. 244, was changed to the section number we use today – s. 265 - and my fear that I would never be able to remember the new section numbers. Considering I needed to look up what the old section number was to write this blog, I wonder how I could have been so worried. What I was not too concerned with at the time was the change caused by s. 23.1, which in hindsight was certainly a much bigger deal than the mere section number changes.

Section 23.1 reads as follows:

For greater certainty, sections 21 to 23 apply in respect of an accused notwithstanding the fact that the person whom the accused aids or abets, counsels or procures or receives, comforts or assists cannot be convicted of the offence.

Therefore, it is possible for an accused to be convicted of counseling a crime even if the person actually committing the crime is not guilty or cannot be tried and/or convicted. For example, an adult who involves children under twelve in the drug trade can still be convicted as a party even though the children, who are actually committing the crime, cannot be convicted, according to s. 13 Code, as they are statutorily debarred on the basis of age. For more on section 13 of the Code, read or listen to my previous podcast. Additionally, even though an accused who commits a counseled crime while under duress would have a valid legal defence, the person who counseled such an offence under s. 22, may still be convicted. It is also possible for an accused to be convicted as an accessory after the fact even if the fugitive offender is ultimately acquitted of the crime from which he or she was escaping. I will return to accessory in a moment as this particular mode of crime has been viewed as different than the other modes and has caused more legal controversy despite s. 23.1.

Based on the above, particularly the “Oliver Twist” example, it does make sense that the Crown be able to prosecute secondary participants on a separate basis than the main offenders. However, prior to 1985 this was not the case. This did not mean that a person involved in a crime, in circumstances where they might be a party or a counselor or an accessory, could not be charged. Indeed, prior to these amendments the charge of conspiracy was usually laid against the secondary accused. However, as we will see when we finally do arrive at the conspiracy section 465, to found a conviction under the conspiracy section is quite complicated. Certainly, more complicated than basing the offender’s participation through the party section.

Although this concept or ability to prosecute was easily accepted after 1985 for participating as a party or as a counselor to a crime, the issue of being tried as an accessory after the fact, where the fugitive offender was not convicted, was not. To understand the special status of being an accessory after the fact, we must consider the Supreme Court of Canada Vinette case from 1975. In the Vinette case, the accused Vinette was charged as an accessory after the fact to a murder committed by Vincent by assisting Vincent to dispose of the victim’s body. Vincent entered a plea of guilty to manslaughter and at Vinette’s trial, Vincent’s plea, as a “confession,” was admitted against Vinette. Vinette was convicted by the jury but the conviction was quashed by the Court of Appeal on the basis that Vincent’s plea was not admissible against the co-accused Vinette. Mr. Justice Pigeon, writing on behalf of the majority, allowed the Crown’s appeal and upheld the conviction. In Justice Pigeon’s view, the elements of being an accessory after the fact differs from the main offence and therefore is a separate charge. Thus, the usual evidentiary rules pertaining to admissions made by co-accused do not apply and Vincent’s statements are admissible. According to Justice Pigeon, not only was a charge of accessory separate from the main offence but also by its very nature must be committed after the main offence. This chronological requirement also suggested that the main offender must be tried and convicted before the accessory could be found guilty. However, after a line of cases which tried to decipher Justice Pigeon’s suggestion, it was determined that as the Vinette decision made no mention of the now s. 592, which permitted an accessory to be indicted before the main offender, the chronological argument carried no validity. We will eventually come to s.592 and revisit this conundrum.

In any event, the idea that being an accessory after the fact was a unique charge, which was intimately tied to the main offence resulted in a line of cases questioning s. 23.1 in relation to s. 23. In fact, in the delightful decision of the Honourable Justice Woods, on behalf of the British Columbia Court of Appeal in the 1993 Camponi case, the historical common law significance of being charged as an accessory after the fact was traced in light of s. 592 and s. 23.1. Again, I want to keep back some discussion of this for the much, much later s. 592 podcast but needless to say Justice Woods found no problem with trying an accessory after the fact before the main offender and no problem finding an accessory guilty even if the main offender was acquitted. To that end, and in reference to s.23.1, Justice Woods remarked at paragraph 25 of the decision that:

This section was enacted in 1986, c. 32, s. 46. with what must be regarded as an unusually confident legislative tone, it announces an intention to bring greater certainty to the law relating to ss. 21-23 of the Code. Whether it has achieved that lofty goal will be for history to decide. Suffice it to say that in the context of the present discussion its intent seems to have been to put the quietus to any lingering notion that s. 592 preserved, or was intended to preserve, the essence of the common law rule relating to accessories after the fact.

Finally the matter appeared to be truly put to rest when the 1997 Nova Scotia Court of Appeal FJS (also known as Shalaan) case came to the same conclusion as Camponi and this decision was affirmed with brief reasons by the Supreme Court of Canada. Interestingly, the controversy continued, not in the law courts per se but between the lines in the annotated Criminal Codes. In the commentary under s. 23.1, Martin’s Annual Criminal Code references the Supreme Court of Canada FJS case in support of the position that an accessory after the fact could be convicted even if the main offender was acquitted, while in Allan Gold’s The Practitioner’s Criminal Code, as least as of the 2008 version, the commentary dismissed the Supreme Court of Canada’s decision as decided per incuriam.

But we are not finished with this section and the myriad of case law this section has garnered. Recently, on April 3, 2014, the Supreme Court of Canada dismissed the leave application in the Huard case, which raised the constitutionality of the well-established principle, as really encapsulated by s. 23.1, that a party may be convicted of a more serious offence than that of the main offender. In that case, Mr. Huard was convicted as a party to a first-degree murder even though the principal offender was only convicted of second-degree murder. Counsel argued that the principles of fundamental justice, as guaranteed under s. 7 of the Charter, requires that those less morally culpable should not be punished more severely than those more morally culpable. Mr. Justice Watt, on behalf of the Ontario Court of Appeal, dismissed the argument as he found the “mere common law rule” relied upon was not a principle of fundamental justice and s. 23.1 “makes it clear” that a party can be convicted even if the main offender is acquitted or not even tried. As an aside, the Appellant in the Camponi case relied upon an article written by Justice Watt, which he wrote prior to his appointment to the Bench, on accessory after the fact and the ambiguities found in s. 592. This shows that the connections in the Canadian criminal law are indeed endless and it appears that they may be unlimited too!

 

 

Episode 28 of the Ideablawg Podcasts on the Criminal Code - Section 23.1

Ideablawg’s Weekly Connections: Inside The Courtroom

Although criminal lawyers have an intimate knowledge of the courtrooms in which they practice, what do we really know about courtrooms elsewhere? We assume other courts would be all fairly similar but having practiced in Ontario and appeared in a myriad of courtrooms from Toronto, to Windsor, to Lindsay, and beyond, I can say courtrooms do differ. But how do courtrooms in other jurisdictions look? What about other countries? What goes on in them anyway? Well, thanks to the Internet, there are options and tools to help anyone peek into the inside of a court and to see, and perhaps understand more clearly, what exactly is going on inside.

1.   The International Criminal Court (ICC): I have written about the International Criminal Court in previous blogs, most notably here. This past week, the ICC trial chamber has been hearing the Ruto and Sang prosecution. William Samoei Ruto, the Deputy President of the Republic of Kenya and Joshua Arap Sang, head of operations of Kalenjin language radio station KASS FM in Nairobi, are charged with crimes against humanity under the Rome Statute. Ruto and Sang are being tried for their role in the ethnic violence ocurring after the 2007-2008 Kenyan elections. The ICC distributes a video summary of weekly cases in their video series called “In The Courtroom.” The Ruto and Sang matter is this week’s installment showing the courtroom and the various members of the court as well as excerpts of the testimony of a witness, whose identity is carefully protected through use of a pseudonym, facial pixilation, and voice distortion. After the hearing summary, there is a short explanation about the court process including the possible prison terms and where such a sentence would be served. Not only does this video give us an opportunity to experience a totally different kind of criminal court but it gives us a better appreciation of the difficulties surrounding the prosecution and defence of international crimes.

2.   You Be The Judge: This is a great online interactive tool created by the Ministry of Justice in the UK to explain how a judge sentences an accused. The website allows the viewer to observe various criminal cases and to make interactive decisions, based on various factors, to determine the length of incarceration. The viewer/player experiences the courtroom setting and benefits from a number of “asides” from the Bench explaining the process. Through polls taken during the hearing, the viewer can see, in a risk-free environment, if their decisions are consistent with other viewers and with the sentencing judge. I have used this website in my undergraduate criminal justice classes to show how a sentencing judge uses his or her discretion with the rule of law to come to an appropriate and fit sentence.

3.   The Model Court: In a previous blog, I wrote a short piece on the intersection of law and art based on readings from a group of essays in Thousand Eyes: Media Technology, Law and Aesthetics published by Sternberg Press. In the journal are photographs of the “Model Court,” which is a collaborative research project involving a group of artists, Sidsel Meineche Hansen, Lawrence Abu Hamdan (who does some fascinating aural work in the area of the political role of voice in law called Aural Contract), Oliver Rees (he’s so supercool I can’t even describe what he does, so just check out his website) and architect, Lorenzo Pezzani. The project “uses the structure and technologies of the courtroom to interrogate the signifying and controlling role architecture plays in contemporary art and society.” By offering a “model court” as a container of ideas of “jurisprudence, evidence, and the hidden apparatuses that become the essential constituents of tribunals,” the project extends us beyond the courtroom into a representative space, which pushes the traditional four-wall envelope to give us an alternative view of justice. 

Ideablawg’s Weekly Connections: The Olympics Edition

Of course, this week is all about the Olympics and when sport and law sometimes intersect.

1.   The Dispute: How does the IOC (International Olympic Committee) decide which sports should be included in the games? Although the Olympics have come a long way since the Ancient Greeks competed in a handful of events, there are a number of sports not included in the games and a few, which have been dropped over the years. Baseball and softball were not on the roster for the London Olympics but considering Tokyo will be hosting in 2020, this may change. Wrestling was off and then on again.  The Olympic rules require all sports to be reviewed after every Olympics with sports to be added or dropped by a two-thirds majority vote. There are, of course, those sports, which have been added to the Olympic lineup, such as golf, rugby (reappearing) and kitesurfing (new) in the 2016 Olympics.   At Sochi there were new events such as team figure skating and the snowboard and ski slopestyle.  Women’s ski jump was a new event this year but not without some controversy. The quest for gender equality in the ski jump event evolved over time, culminating in a legal challenge by high-ranking women ski jumpers before the 2010 Vancouver Olympics and Paralympics. The British Columbia Court of Appeal, in dismissing the women’s case, found that the Charter could not apply to the selection of the 2010 events as and that even if the Charter did apply there was no breach of equality rights under s.15(1). Although, the question of whether VANOC or the Vancouver Olympic Committee was a government entity was easily answered in the negative, however the more difficult question was whether in organizing and staging the event VANOC was carrying out governmental activities. Even though there was governmental support for the Olympics, the Court found that this fact was not decisive on the issue of selection of Olympic events. In deed, neither VANOC nor the governmental agencies supporting the host City were involved in the selection of events. Thus, it could not be said that VANOC was the decision-maker and therefore the Charter could not apply.   Even so, the Court considered the reach of the equality s.15. In finding there was no breach the Court stated, “section 15(1) sets out constitutional guarantees of equality that are broad in scope, but it does not constitute a general guarantee of equality.  Rather, the section guarantees equality only in the way that the law affects individuals.  Where the law is not implicated in discrimination or inequality, is not engaged.” As the law or statutory authority was not engaged by the right or lack thereof to compete in the Olympics, s. 15 was not available and was not breached. A leave application to the Supreme Court of Canada was dismissed with costs. In the end, women’s ski jumping was approved for inclusion in Sochi. Unfortunately, none of the women who brought the court case won a medal in the sport, but what they did, in the end, win a victory for the sport.

2.   The Crime: Remember when Olympic scandals read like soap operas? If your memory needs refreshing, take a backward glance at the Tonya Harding – Nancy Kerrigan incident, when Kerrigan was attacked by a hammer to her knees, before the 1994 Olympics at the Women’s Championship and could not compete. That year Harding won and then lost as it was revealed that she was involved in the conspiracy to assault Kerrigan. But don’t worry, Nancy Kerrigan went on to perform in the Ice Capades while Tonya is now a professional boxer. Irony on ice?

3.   The Sabotage: What is it about skates? The Kerrigan/Harding incident did not stop some members of the American short track team from sabotaging Canadian Olympic gold medalist Oliver Jean’s skates in 2011. Despite this admission, the skater who did the deed accuses the coach for pressuring him to do it. The ISU or International Skating Union’s disciplinary commission considered the case last year and laid the blame for the incident squarely on the coach. This year at Sochi the Canadians were careful to check their skates before competing.

4.   The Dissent: Controversy swirled at the Olympics over the lack of gay rights in the host country and the lack of desire to meet with the Vancouver envoy supporting gay rights. But dissent escalated even further when Pussy Riot, the female punk rock activists, who were jailed last year after performing a “blasphemous” song in the Moscow Cathedral, were arrested but released in Sochi and then whipped by Cossacks – yes, there are still Cossacks. Read about their angry music video on the debacle entitled "Putin Will Teach You To Love Your Country" here

Ideablawg’s Weekly Connections: Peace And Violence

This past week there were some defining moments in history all in a background of love, war, violence, and peace.

1. All You Need Is Love: This week we celebrated the anniversary of The Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show. In this moment of reflection, let us consider the various ways the boys engaged law and authority. Consider Paul’s marijuana as found by the Japanese authorities in 1980 or John’s deportation battle in the USA. If you want something more uplifting – recall John and Yoko’s bed-in at Montreal’s Queen Elizabeth Hotel. Here is a great legal connection – Allan Rock, lawyer and politician (now President of the University of Ottawa) – managed to convince the couple to go from Montreal to Ottawa in 1969 when he was President of the University of Ottawa Students’ Union. Here is a personal connection – Allan Rock taught me Civil Procedure II while I was at Osgoode Hall Law School. Only two degrees of separation between John Lennon and me!

2. War: Sixty-nine years after the end of World War II and we are still learning something new about the events of the War years. The Monuments Men, a movie that opened this past week, enlightens us on how art and architecture was saved or not saved during the war. I also recommend reading the book but if you do, read it with an iPad nearby to reference not only the art pieces but also the places in which the art was found. This further connects to the ongoing struggle for the return of art stolen during the war. I have written a previous blog on the issue. This past week, Germany considered extending the law allowing Jewish families to recover this art as more caches of such art are being found.

3. Peace: One of my personal heroes is Richard Feynman – the Nobel Prize winner in Physics who passed away 26 years ago on February 14, 1988. Not only was Feynman an engaging man and a tremendous mentor and teacher but he was also a clear thinker with a heart of gold. He’s the one who dropped the O-rings into the ice-cold water to demonstrate how the Challenger disaster accident really occurred. He also ended his minority report on the disaster by stating “For a successful technology, reality must take precedence over public relations, for Nature cannot be fooled.” A dramatization of these events aired on the Science Channel last year with William Hurt playing Feynman. Having read all books Feynman, I recommend the autobiographical What Do You Care What People Think? and his lectures on Physics. Although he was one of the young physicist working on the Manhattan project and was at Los Alamos during the War, he had a very strong reaction to the dropping of the bomb on Hiroshima. I strongly recommend watching his interviews on the subject here.

4. Violence: Is the independence of the judiciary something to fight about? In Turkey, a fistfight broke out over the government’s plan to restrain the judiciary. Certainly, this undemocratic move has political overtones in a country rife with such difficulties. This latest move is unsurprising considering the government’s past treatment of free thinkers such as Orhan Pamuk, the Nobel Prize recipient in Literature, who was charged with a criminal offence after speaking out on the Armenian genocide. Ultimately, the government dropped the charges but certainly this was a precursor to the events of Taksim Square and to the latest round of violence. Orhan Pamuk is another one of my role models – read Snow and My Name Is Red to experience Pamuk’s lyric and unforgettable prose.

Ideablawg's Weekly Connections: From Pronouncing to Pronouncements

This week I looked at the dual nature of the word “pronounce.” Although in both meanings to “pronounce” is a speech word, the effects of the meanings are very different.

1. Pronounce: In this meaning – to make a sound of a word or letter with your voice – is something we do everyday. Even in this digital age, the speech act is integral part of being human. However, how we pronounce our words has developed over time and the dialect or way in which we pronounce a word has changed radically in the English language. For example, every teen is required to read Shakespeare, typically Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, and Hamlet, but inevitably with present-day pronunciation. True we recognize the words and the grammatical structure differs from ours but few of us consider that pronunciation in the 1500s was quite different. Thanks to the linguist, David Crystal, Pronouncing Shakespeare, is possible. Listen here for the correct pronunciation (i.e. as Shakespeare would have pronounced them) in Romeo and Juliet. To follow along, the text is here. Just to connect Shakespeare to law, I remind everyone of the famous passage in Act 4, Scene 2 of Henry the IV, wherein Dick states "the first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers," which presages the disintegration of society and the beginning of anarchy.

2. Pronounce: Another aspect of pronouncing a word is to speak the word properly. In law, Latin words and phrases are common. Indeed, two such phrases come immediately to mind when I teach criminal law. The first is actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea, which means there is no guilty act without a guilty mind and from where the terms mens rea and actus reus, the essential elements of a crime, come. As an aside mens rea and actus reus are never used in the Criminal Code of Canada. The second Latin maxim is the causation concept of de minimis non curat lex or the law does not concern itself with trifles. Although the Latin language is liberally sprinkled throughout legal textbooks and case law, Latin is not a required course in law schools. But thankfully there are opportunities for self-study. Just buy Wheelock’s Latin and go online for the correct pronunciations. Your law professor will thank you for it.

3. Pronounce: The second meaning of the word is to declare or announce something formally or officially. A Judge, when he or she renders a decision, is making a pronouncement. How the Judge or trier of fact comes to a decision is a matter of much academic speculation and argument. Critical legal theorists spend much of their academic career trying to articulate this seemingly inarticulable process. Is decision making predictable? Is it based on preconceived views of the trier of fact? Is it random or guided by an innate sense of justice? These heady questions are still being deconstructed in legal jurisprudence. As a primer, read Benjamin Cardoza on The Nature of the Judicial Process for an enlightened view on the subject.

4. Hazmat Modine: to end this week’s connections, I decided to move completely away from my theme and leave you with some excellent music and an example of how our world seamlessly mixes all genres to produce new sound – kind of like how our pronunciations have changed over time. Enjoy!

 

 

 

Ideablawg’s Weekly Connections: From Justitia to Tupac

Art is the connection this week; art for art’s sake, art as a legal symbol, and art as the spoken word:

1. Art for Art’s sake: One of the best museum in Amsterdam is the Van Gogh Museum – a simple walk through does not do it justice (note – this is a foreshadowing of the next connection). The majestic melancholy of Van Gogh’s work is fully displayed as you walk pictorially through the artist’s troubled life. But wait, there’s more we can do in our digital world, we can actually walk through his paintings in this lovely 3D Animation by artist Luca Agnani. Soon we will actually be able to interact with the subjects of his paintings in “Loving Vincent,” a feature-length painted animation projectkickstarted” by the Oscar-winning studio BreakThru Films

2. Art as a Legal Symbol: As mentioned last week, Peter Goodrich’s article on Specters of Law discusses legal imagery and legal obfuscation. A fascinating passage in the article reveals the original image of Justice was not blindfolded. Based originally on the Greek Titan Goddess Themis, Justice was a blend of Greek and Roman female deities centered on law, order, and prophecy. Justice or Justitia was not depicted blindfolded until the Renaissance. In fact, Justitia, with her eyes wide open, viewed the world with utter clarity.  No one can hide from Justice. Why she became blindfolded is a bit of a mystery but whatever the reason, the blindfold became a symbol for the impartiality of the law. Today, there are very few images of Justice without a blindfold but the few are significant. Our own Supreme Court of Canada is pre-figured by the figure of Justice or Ivstitia;cloaked, embracing her sword of Justice, with no impediment to her sight. Even our legal progenitor, the British, have a golden statue of Lady Justice on the top of the Old Bailey criminal courthouse, outstretched with scales perfectly balanced but without blindfold. Banksy’s version of the Lady can be found here – blindfolded and unblindfolded – albeit much differently attired. 

3. Art as the Spoken Word: Lady Justice reminds me of Lady Liberty and Tupac Shakur’s poem Lady Liberty Needs Glasses. “Mrs. Justice” makes a cameo in the poem, which you can read here. Or, if you prefer audio, listen to Malcolm Jamal Warner read it from the “Rose That Grew From Concrete” album.

4. Art as Rhetoric: Finally, I give you the Greek orator, Demosthenes. If you want to learn about him and the reason why I was reading his speeches this week, read/listen to my blog/podcast from January 31. Unfortunately, this “art of persuasion” has not been nurtured in the law schools of today, either in its spoken or written form. Read “The Oration on the Crown" to see what we are missing. 

    Ideablawg Weekly Connections: From Twibel to Chaucer

    This week, I surfed the Internet and did some reading the old-fashioned way – nothing like holding and having a book - so let’s look at the week in review:

    1.   Google Glasses are being talked about and well they should! As the next step in computer/human interface, these glasses would really come in useful in the courtroom when you need to bring up that name of a case – you know that name! Google Glasses could tell you that. Of course, Google Glasses can also keep the lawyers busy as in the case of the California woman, who was charged with distracted driving while wearing her special specs. The California law makes it illegal to “drive a motor vehicle if a television receiver, a video monitor, or a television or video screen, or any other similar means of visually displaying a television broadcast or video signal that produces entertainment or business applications, is operating” and, as she was also speeding at the time, a puzzled police officer pulled her and her Glasses over. The Judge, however, acquitted the feckless (not specless) woman, as there was no evidence the Google Glasses were operating at the time of the incident. My only question is: how could you ever prove that? Maybe the police need some new technology? Can that laser catch speeders and readers?

    2. Peter Ackroyd, a British writer, historian and biographer, has written numerous fiction and non-fiction books, mostly about his beloved London. I have read a number of his books, most notably London Under, about what is found under the city – you’d be surprised what’s there - and The Casebook of Victor Frankenstein, a fictionalized backgrounder to the good Doctor. I have recently read a raft of his biographies; some from his brief lives series, including Turner, Poe, Newton, and Chaucer. The Chaucer bio was fascinating as Geoffrey Chaucer was a minor Court official, who really only wrote as a side career. He also had some legal training and was used by the Kings (he survived more than one) for delicate diplomatic missions to France and Italy. Not only does Ackroyd give us non-fictional accounts but he usually ties these peregrinations to a fiction book as well. For instance, he did a marvelous re-working (or translation) of The Canterbury Tales and then re-worked them even more to write Clerkenwell Tales. I also recently read his fascinating biography on Charles Dickens. By the way, watch for the Dickens movie to be released with Ralph Fiennes as the venerable, and love-struck (read the book to see why – the movie is called The Invisible Woman) author. Of course, Dickens did work as a law clerk in Chancery Court when he was young and his novel, Bleak House, brings his past experience to life (or death as we are talking wills) with a comedic flare that is both cynical and heartwarming. I have written a couple of blogs on Dickens in the past here and here

    3. Back to law and the Internet – this time law and the Smartphone as Courtney Love successfully defends against a defamation case caused by her tweeting that her attorney, in her Kurt Cobain estate case, was “bought off” not to represent her.  Apparently, the tweet was supposed to be “private” and the jurors agreed. A “private” tweet therefore was not considered “twibel,” which is a libelous tweet of course. Not only is this the first twibel case but, I think also the next word to make it as the Oxford Dictionary Word! Selfies is so last month!

    4. I have also been reading some law and imagery articles and I have been particularly struck with articles written by Peter Goodrich, who is the Director of the Law and Humanities program at the Cordozo School of Law. His writing is witty, vivacious, and thought provoking. Try reading his article on Specters of Law: Why the History of the Legal Spectacle Has Not Been Written, which speaks of the visible and the not so visible legal tradition that lawyers have constructed. 

    Section 11: The Parallel Universe of Criminal and Civil Law: Episode 13 of the Ideablawg Podcast on the Criminal Code of Canada

    Today we will step out of our criminal law comfort zone to talk a little bit about the civil law, in particular how criminal and civil law reside in a parallel universe due to section 11 of the Criminal Code.

    To start, let’s discuss how civil law and criminal law differ from one another. First, it should be noted that when I speak of “civil law,” I am using this term generously to refer to the legal system controlling private disputes, particularly where there is harm caused either physically (tort law) or through a breach of contractual obligations. Another definition of “civil law” may be the civil law tradition, which comes from the Continental legal tradition (The Napoleonic Code for instance), and involves codified civil statutes governing society, such as found in Quebec.

    As you probably already noticed, the main difference between criminal and civil laws is the type of parties engaged in each of these systems. Civil law is between private individuals, whilst criminal is between the state or the government and an individual, although a corporation can also be charged with a criminal offence. Thus, in criminal law we are concerned with public wrongs and harms against society. As, I have mentioned before, the criminal law underlines society’s fundamental values and is reflective of how we view our society at any given time.

    As a result of this differing viewpoint, civil and criminal law employ different legal processes, on occasion differing legal rules, and even a different standard of proof. To reflect the specialness of the criminal law, the burden of proof, which is on the state, is beyond a reasonable doubt, and for the civil world it is proof on a balance of probabilities, which is a lower standard of proof than the criminal one.

    The civil law also employs some different types of remedies than the criminal law, although sometimes not. Criminal law remedies are about punishment, with the concomitant ideals of retribution and rehabilitation. Typically, civil remedies are about compensation, to ensure the injured party is recompensed for the harm caused. However, there are occasions where these remedies do meet such us in the criminal law when compensation is ordered or in civil law when punitive damages are assessed. This blurring of the lines between civil and criminal law is best seen in the regulatory field of legislation. For further reading on this issue, My Masters Thesis considered the criminalization of regulatory offences and the use of the civil punitive sanction as an alternative.

    Now that we understand the differences between civil and criminal, let’s take a look at section 11 of the Criminal Code to try and figure out what it means and what it is doing in our Criminal Code.

    Section 11 is entitled Civil Remedy Not Suspended and reads as follows:

    No civil remedy for an act or omission is suspended or affected by reason that the act or omission is a criminal offence.

    As an aside, a similar section can be found in the 1892 Criminal Code under s. 534. It is under the General Provisions of procedure section of the Code, while the present section 11 is under the General Part.

    On the face, the meaning of the section is fairly clear: a civil action may proceed despite a parallel criminal action. In other words, a person charged with an offence can also face a civil suit for his or her actions and that civil case can continue at the same time as the criminal prosecution. However, as discussed in the last two previous podcasts, as the court retains an inherent jurisdiction over its process, a judge, in exceptional circumstances, can suspend a civil case until the criminal matter concludes. The circumstances for such abeyance would involve the right of the accused to a fair trial and the prejudicial effect of a continuing civil case. It must be emphasized that this power is discretionary and there is no automatic right to stay a civil case until a criminal matter is completed.

    Another concern for an accused facing a civil suit is the civil requirement for questioning the parties on the suit. Such responses may later incriminate the accused at the criminal trial. However, there is protection for the accused under s.13 of the Charter, which prohibits the use of such testimony in a criminal proceeding, except in a prosecution for perjury or “for the giving of contradictory evidence.” Therefore, the state cannot advance such incriminatory evidence at the accused’s trial unless the evidence forms the basis of a perjury charge or unless the accused testifies at the criminal trial and his testimony at the criminal trial is contradictory to the previous testimony in the civil proceeding. In that instance, the civil testimony does not go in for the truth of its content but can be used to cross-examine the accused on a prior inconsistent statement. However, under provisions in the Canada Evidence Act, an accused must still answer the questions put to him when questioned in a civil case.

    There are cases where the civil trial judge has stayed the civil proceeding when the accused is facing criminal charges in the United States. In that forum, the accused, as a Canadian citizen, would not be entitled to invoke the protection of the Fifth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution and would not be protected by the Canadian laws.

    Our final consideration is why is the section in the Code. I suggest the section is in place to reiterate the differences between criminal and civil law. The sections speaks of civil remedies or the outcome of a civil case and also a civil suit’s purpose – to enforce a right of the party, which has been harmed, or unrecognized by the other party’s actions. This enforcement is between these two parties – not between Her Majesty and the accused - therefore the action is in respect of different parties. The harm is a private one, and again does not underline the social values at stake in a criminal case. Finally, the standard of proof is lower in a civil suit and therefore a civil remedy may be ordered even if an accused is ultimately acquitted of the criminal case – see the O.J. Simpson trial as an example of this.  So they are different proceedings, for a different reason, making parallel proceedings possible. Finally, there is a desire that civil matters, like criminal cases, be heard in a timely manner to ensure the integrity of the civil system. Of course, with the caveat that, in matters of justice, the criminal case will prevail.

     

     

     

    Episode 13 of the Ideablawg Podcast on the Criminal Code of Canada: Section 11

    A Week of Connections! From Fuentes to Chutzpah

    It’s been a busy week but I have managed some time out to take in some pretty interesting websites and readings:

    1. The McGill Law Journal Annual Lecture at the Faculty of Law on March 30, 2011 given by Carlos Fuentes, an admired Mexican author, who was also legally trained and was involved in international diplomacy. He passed away almost a year after giving this lecture. I have read a few of Fuentes novels but I have never before made the legal connection. The lecture is a bit of a challenge as he gave parts of the lecture in French with a bit of Spanish but it is a fascinating read, particularly when he recounts his work in 1950 while secretary to the Mexican member, Roberto Cordoba, of the United Nations International Law Commission. The article also has his responses to some of the questions posed by the students in attendance, which gives an excellent insight into Latin-American politics. I also highly recommend his first novel, Where The Air Is Clear.
    2. On the “what will they think of researching next” connection is a legal research project tracing the use of the Yiddish term “chutzpah” in American case law, particularly after the film premier of The Fiddler On The Roof. This project comes from Eric Posner, a Professor at the University of Chicago Law School, and yes, indeed, mentions of the word Chutzpah in law decisions jumps significantly after the 1971 film version. Interestingly enough the word “chutzpah” doesn’t even appear in the movie! I have a little “chutzpah” myself and decided to do a quick search of the word using the canlii (The Canadian Legal Information Institute) website and found 35 mentions of the word chutzpah from 1996 to 2013 in court or tribunal decisions. The database does not go back too far for some levels of courts so this search is not overly rigorous. Of those 35 decisions, 3 are from British Columbia, 5 are from Alberta (all from the Queen’s Bench and all different Judges), 5 from Federal or Tax Court, 1 from Saskatchewan Queen’s Bench, 1 from Quebec Superior Court, and 20 Ontario mentions mostly from the Ontario Superior Court of Justice with Master Polika winning the prize at using the term in 6 separate cases. By the way, Leo Rosten’s wildly popular book from 1968, The Joys of Yiddish, which really is the reason why Yiddish terms became so popular in mainstream society, defines chutzpah as “gall, brazen nerve, effrontery, incredible “guts”; presumption-plus-arrogance such as no other word, and no other language can do justice.” In these Canadian cases, the word is used mostly in the derogator sense. My particular favourite use of the word is in the BCCA Doman case where Madam Justice Southin says the following: But for the applicants to complain that the delay, which has been caused by their largely unsuccessful attacks in court on the proceedings of the Commission, constitutes an abuse of process calls to my mind the delightful Yiddish word "chutzpah" which is sometimes explained as a man who has been convicted of murdering his parents seeking mercy on the ground that he is an orphan.
    3. You think you’re busy? Well check out Benjamin Franklin’s daily schedule here. I really like Franklin’s morning question, “What good shall I do this day?” and evening question to “What good have I done today?” Good questions for lawyers to keep in mind!
    4. Finally, a bit of fun but also a reminder that what you read in the media needs to be check by going to the source, so to speak. This is the news story about the American Niagara Falls icing over due to the polar vortex, which is a mass of bone-chilling arctic air, which usually sits atop the North Pole but can circulate southwards to cool off more than usual whatever lies southward. However, it appears that Niagara did not in fact completely freeze over although it still looked pretty “cool.” Check out this even neater photo from 1969 when the American Falls stopped due to a scientific research, which required the damning of the source. Don’t worry Canada, the Horseshoe Falls were unaffected.

     

    The Ideablawg Connections Of The Week

    This week, I am launching a new segment on my blog, The Ideablawg Connections Of The Week, wherein I will recommend items, some law related and some not, connecting them to other areas of interest. These items may be Internet based or print based (yes, there is still such an animal) and may be for viewing, reading, listening, or creating. This week, I recommend the following:

    1. A film about Walter Benjamin, philosopher, critic, and prolific writer, whose critical thinking and sharp analysis of the world around him modernized the essay genre. Walter Benjamin, a German Jewish intellectual, committed suicide when he was turned back from a border crossing with Spain and France during the German occupation of France in WWII. This film is nuanced and provocative. For further reading of Walter Benjamin, read his magnum opus entitled The Arcades Project, a blinding riff on life, the universe, and everything inspired by the shopping arcades of Paris, or a compilation of his essays in Illuminations, edited with a forward by Hannah Arendt, which is reason enough to read this. Then read Hannah Arendt’s, Eichmann In Jerusalem, her controversial series of articles for The New Yorker, covering Eichmann’s trial and decide for yourself what “banality of evil” means. To help you decide, read Deborah Lipstadt’s concise analysis of it in The Eichmann Trial and then watch the 2012 biopic, which may mean an Oscar nomination for Barbara Sukowa. For a law connection, read articles on Hannah Arendt as an International Criminal Law theorist.
    2. And now for something completely different: A NPR article of an interview John Rizzo, counsel to the CIA after 9/11, who has just written a memoir entitled Company Man: Thirty Years of Controversy and Crisis in the CIA, in which he discusses, among other things, his views on “enhanced interrogation techniques” or what we would call “torture.” Look for his last word on the subject of “waterboarding,” which he states, “…if the Justice Department had concluded — that these techniques constitute torture, we would never have done them. So I can't say they were torture. I didn't concede it was torture then, and I don't concede that it's torture now.” Really? Tell that to a group of Toronto lawyers, who called for Dick Cheney’s arrest for war crimes based on these interrogation techniques, when he was in Toronto in October 2013. Let’s also reflect on the Queen’s Bench of Alberta Justice Yamauchi’s decision in Simpenzwe, that “it is not just a dental drill or waterboarding that extracts confessions out of people. Equally sinister are the “more subtle, veiled threats that can be used against suspects.”
    3. Totally unrelated is this article on the 10 “must have” apps for 2014. I like mailbox.
    4. Atlantic Cities regularly has articles of interest to the committed urbanite. They also have a number of articles on crime and, although US-centric, they nevertheless remind us of the Canadian experience. The article on “Nearly 50 Percent of Black Men Have Been Arrested by 23” is sobering. Although, Canada does not compile such data, read the consistently excellent and relevant reports issued by the Canada’s Correctional Investigator, Howard Sapers,  and his recent report on “A Case Study of Diversity in Corrections: The Black Inmate Experience in Federal Penitentiaries.”
    5. Finally, go see American Hustle, the Hollywood version of the 1980s ABSCAM – remember those grainy videotapes of payoffs by fake Sheiks – well watching it in Technicolor is so much satisfying and entertaining, including Christian Bale’s not well-disguised impression of the Mel Weinberg, a Bronx fraudster and confidence man. Is it just me or is Bale channeling Rob Reiner’sMeathead” in All In The Family?

     

     

    A Long Holiday Read On Section 8 And Section 9 Of The Criminal Code - Codification vs. Common Law, Is The Criminal Code Big Enough?: Episode Eleven Of The Ideablawg Podcast (And The Text Version!) On The Criminal Code of Canada

    Codification can be a good thing: instead of searching multiple statutes to find the criminal offence for which your client is charged, as an English barrister must do, the Canadian lawyer just flips through the weighty but convenient Criminal Code. To be fair to England, they did try to codify their criminal law. In fact, our codified criminal law comes from that English attempt by Sir James Fitzjames Stephen. I say the English "attempt" as even though we Canadians embraced the codification concept, the English Parliament did not. For more information on the history of the Criminal Code and possible reform, I invite you to read my previous blog on the subject entitled The Criminal Code of Canada: Codification and Reform from February 12, 2012.

    Codification can therefore provide much needed certainty of the law. There is no guess work with codification – we know it is a crime because the Code says so. Thus, the concept of ignorance of the law is no excuse from the Latin maxim of ignorantia juris non excusat, is crystallized in a compendium of sections of the Criminal Code and even is codified in it as we will see when we discuss s.19 of the Code.

    Alas, however, this same reasoning can lead to the conclusion that codification can also be a bad thing. Firstly, codification leaves little room for interpretation. The Criminal Code, as a really, really, long statute, abides by the rules of statutory interpretation, which guides us on the application and meaning of this statute. According to another Latin maxim of statutory interpretation expressio unius est exclusio alterius or “expression of one is the exclusion of the other,” means that what is not written in the Criminal Code is not part of the Criminal Code. This principle is supported by other statutory interpretation rules such as the  plain meaning rule of statutory interpretation, which advises us that the words used in the Criminal Code mean what they ordinarily mean.

    These rules have not gone unchallenged and there are interesting articles discussing those issues. For instance, the rule raises the question as to whether or not there truly is an “ordinary” meaning of a word when considering the differing cultures and perceptions of our multicultural nation.

    Besides critics of these statutory interpretation concepts, there are other rules of interpretation, which seem contrary to these “closed book” rules, such as the ability of a court to “read-in” words or phrases to a statute to ensure its constitutional integrity. To be sure courts through the ages have read-in phrases and meanings in certain sections of the Code but they have not actually read-in a whole section. 

    Thus, through the effect of codification, the Criminal Code captures and defines our criminal law, leaving very little room, if any, for change, unless Parliament so chooses. In this way the dynamic nature of society is not reflected through our laws. Certainly, however our Charter has added a fluid dimension to the Criminal Code by superimposing societal change, albeit incrementally, onto the written word. Instead of a closed book, the Code seems to be more akin to an e-reader, in which the internet can be accessed, on occasion, to elucidate the reader.

    The second problem with codification is the isolation of the criminal law from the English common law tradition, which brings with it a rich and varied criminal law. Using another metaphor, codification is like a tree without its roots as common law is an important source of our criminal law. However, the whole purpose of codification would be defeated by the uncertainty caused by permitting the common law to exist outside of codification. How would an accused then know the charge for which he or she was facing without reference to a specific charge found in the Code if unwritten common law could still form the basis of a charge?

    This last objection, to permitting the common law to stand as a system parallel to the Criminal Code, is also reflected in our Charter as a principle of fundamental justice under section 11(a) wherein a person charged with a criminal offence has a right to be informed of the specific offence without delay.

    Thankfully, the framers of the Code did think of these issues and so we finally come to the sections which we will discuss in this podcast: sections 8 and 9 of the Criminal Code. But first we will look at section 9, which restricts the common law and ensures Canadian criminal law is consistent with the Charter. Section 9, under the heading Criminal Offences To Be Under Law Of Canada reads as follows:

    Notwithstanding anything in this Act or any other Act, no person shall be convicted or discharged under section 730

    (a) of an offence at common law,

    (b) of an offence under an Act of Parliament of England, or of Great Britain, or of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, or

    (c) of an offence under an  Act or ordinance in force in any province, territory, or place before that province, territory or place became a province of Canada,

    but nothing in this section affects the power, jurisdiction, or authority that a court, judge, justice or provincial court judge had, immediately before April 1, 1955, to impose punishment for contempt of court.

    This section is actually an enabling section as it ensures that the Criminal Code has full force and effect in Canada and that no one can be convicted or discharged with an offence other than an offence under the Code. This was needed as prior to codification, the sources of law were varied and included laws of the United Kingdom, laws particular to pre-Confederation governments, and laws arising from common law.

    It is interesting to note that the section bars punishment for these offences as opposed to prohibiting a person from being charged for these offences. I would suggest that the word “charged,” as under s. 11 of the Charter, refers to the laying of an Information against an accused person, an action which comes at the beginning of the criminal process as opposed to “conviction,” which comes at the end. Thus, the protection of this section is triggered at the end of the trial process when an accused is found guilty by the trial judge and a conviction is entered. The triggering words are similar to the ersatz (see my previous podcast/blog where I explain why I use this qualifying adjective) presumption of innocence found under section 6 of the Code. In effect then, someone may be arrested, charged, and tried for an offence under either 9(a) or (b) or (c), and even found guilty, but it is the judicial action after the finding of guilt and immediately before a conviction or a discharge is entered, which section 9 prohibits. As in section 6, the focus is on punishment and is unlike the Charter sections on legal rights, which so assiduously protect the accused throughout the criminal process; from detention to arrest to charges to pre-trial custody to trial and then to acquittal or punishment.

    Of note, is section 11(g) of the Charter that gives a person charged with a criminal offence the right

    not to be found guilty on account of any act or omission unless, at the time of the act or omission, it constituted an offence under Canadian or international law or was criminal according to the general principles of law recognized by the community of nations.

    This section seems to parallel section 9 but it may be interpreted as giving a broader protection by using the phrase “not found guilty,” and therefore protects an individual before a finding of guilt is made. After the trial judge makes a finding of guilt, the accused is not convicted as he or she may be discharged under section 730 of the Code. Although a discharge is not a conviction, and therefore the accused does not have a criminal record, it is a “sentence” or punishment under the Code. This does seem to be a question of semantics, yet an interesting one to ponder.

    There is, however, an exclusion to this decree as the section permits a court to “impose punishment for contempt of court.” Thus, section 9 preserves the court’s “inherent and essential jurisdiction” to cite and punish someone appearing before it for the common law offence of contempt of court. The purpose of preserving this power, according to Justice McIntyre speaking for the Supreme Court of Canada in the Vermette case, was “necessary, and remains so, to enable the orderly conduct of the court's business and to prevent interference with the court's proceedings.”

    However, the jurisdiction of the inferior court or provincial court differed from the inherent powers of the superior courts. While the provincial court could only cite someone for common law contempt where the actus reus or contemptuous conduct occurred in the face of or in the presence of the court, the superior court could also use their contempt power in circumstances where the conduct was outside of court or ex facie. This was due to the inherent jurisdiction of the superior courts to maintain discipline within their courts independent of statute as opposed to the provincial or inferior courts whose jurisdiction was purely statutory.

    This common law power is still used in courts today, albeit sparingly, and is available even though there are perfectly appropriate charging sections in the Criminal Code, such as s. 139 obstruct justice and s. 131 perjury. I have represented an individual for common law contempt and the unique aspect of the offence is the ability of the accused to proffer an explanation or an apology for the contemptuous behaviour that may be accepted as “purging” the contempt charge. I say “may” as the apology may negate the mens rea required for conviction but a judge is certainly not required to accept an apology as vacating the contempt finding.

    Let’s now return to the second section to be discussed today, section 8. We saw how Parliament ensured that the Criminal Code would safeguard an accused’s rights by limiting common law offences and now, section 8, extends this protection by permitting some common law principles, which inure to the benefit of the accused, such as common law defences. In particular, I will read section 8(3):

    Every rule and principle of the common law that renders any circumstance a justification or excuse for an act or a defence to a charge continues in force and applies in respect of proceedings for an offence under this Act or any other Act of Parliament except in so far as they are altered by or are inconsistent with this Act or any other Act of Parliament.

    Therefore, all common law defences, unless they are “altered by or are inconsistent with” the Code are available to an accused. The defences specified by the section are “justifications and excuses,” which are complete defences to a criminal charge but apply even though both the actus reus and mens rea of an offence are proven. Although both of these defences are restricted to a reasonable response by the accused to external pressures, they do differ.

    An excuse acknowledges the wrongfulness of the action but holds that the accused should not be punished for his or her actions as Justice Dickson stated in the Perka case,

    a liberal and humane criminal law cannot hold people to the strict obedience of the laws in an emergency situation.

    Examples of an excuse would be the defence of duress, as in the Paquette case, and the defence of necessity as in the Perka case.

    Conversely, a justification is where the accused challenges the wrongfulness of the act  as in the circumstances where “the values of society, indeed of the criminal law itself, are promoted by disobeying the law rather than observing it.”

    For a fuller discussion on the present law on excuses see my previous blog on duress and the SCC Ryan case entitled Not To Make Excuses, But The Unresponsiveness of the Supreme Court of Canada To The Defence of Duress.

    Returning to the exception in the section, which suggests that if the common law defences alter or are inconsistent with codified defences, then the codified versions prevail, we must consider the defence of duress as codified under s.17. As we will discuss when we arrive at s.17, both the common law defence of duress and the section 17 duress are available to certain accused in certain circumstances. We will see that far from the caution that the common law defence where altered or inconsistent cannot stand in the face of the codified defence, the common law defence of duress has actually altered the codified version as a result of the application of the Charter. But we will come to this in due course.

    Of course, there is a world of common law defences outside of the Code and outside of the rubric of justifications and excuses such as the common law defence of mistake of fact and the common law defence of mistake of law. Certainly, the common law defence of mistake of fact has been altered for sexual assault offences pursuant to s. 273.2. There are other common law defences, which sadly are sorely underused such as the de minimus defence, or the defence that the law does not consider trifling breaches of the law. These common law defences receive short shrift unfortunately due to the advent of the Charter and the subsequent Charter-weaned lawyers who believe Charter rights are the only kind of defence worth pursuing.

    Finally, a note on the legislative histories of these two sections. Section 8 actually was our present section 9 and our present section 9 was the then section 7 until section 6 was re-enacted as the present section 7. Section 7, as you may recall in the previous podcast, involves offences on aircraft and offences occurring outside of Canada. Our present section 9 was enacted as section 8 in the 1953-54 Code amendments. The reversal occurred in the revisions under the 1985 Code when section 8 became section 9. To make matters even more confusing section 8 was present in our original Criminal Code of 1892 under the then sections 7 and 983. In 1906, the sections were combined and re-enacted as sections 9 to 12. The following revisions made a dizzying number of changes until the 1985 revisions re-enacted the then section 7 to the present section 8.

    Confusing? As I have complained before in these podcasts, often the government has placed content over form by changing and adding sections to the Code without consideration for placement or sense.

    On that historically obfuscating note, I wish one and all a very happy holidays and a happy new year. This podcast will return in January 2014 as we discuss the next section of the Criminal Code of Canada – section 10 when we revisit the common law offence of contempt of court and the availability of appellate remedies.

    Episode 11Of The Ideablawg Podcast On The Criminal Code of Canada: On Section 8 And Section 9 Of The Criminal Code - Codification vs. Common Law, Is The Criminal Code Big Enough?

    The Golden Thread Metaphor: Section Six And The Other Presumption Of Innocence Episode Nine of the Ideablawg Podcasts on the Criminal Code of Canada – Text Version!

    The presumption of innocence – the concept that an accused is presumed innocent until proven guilty - is easily the most well known legal principle. As important as this principle is to our concept of justice, the presumption of innocence has become much more than a legal tool. It has become part of the fabric of our society. Today, every citizen is aware of the presumption of innocence in a criminal case. This principle has transcended the legal arena to become one of our society’s fundamental values. It is not only a value understood by all but it is part of our culture.

    Indeed, as an example of the ubiquitous nature of the presumption of innocence, we can find the concept used as a title of a book, such as in Scott Turow’s novel, Presumed Innocent and the movie version with Harrison Ford. Or used as almost a character flaw as in one of my favourite legal literary heroes, Rumpole of the Bailey, written by John Mortimer Q.C. In those stories, Horace Rumple, the rumpled everyman barrister, finds personal solace in his belief in “the health-giving qualities of claret, of course, the presumption of innocence, and not having to clock into chambers in the morning.” In the classic play/movie 12 Angry Men, when Juror #8, played by Henry Fonda, reminds Juror #2, played by John Fiedler, that “the burden of proof is on the prosecution. The defendant doesn’t even have to open his mouth. That’s in the Constitution,” we nod our heads in agreement and relief. Although many of us could not say which section of the Charter (s. 11(d): “to be presumed innocent until proven guilty”) encapsulates this concept, we all take comfort in knowing it is there.

    But there is another place where the presumption of innocence is recorded in Canadian law and that is section 6 of the Criminal Code, which is entitled “presumption of innocence,” the first part of which reads as follows:

    Where an enactment creates an offence and authorizes a punishment to be imposed in respect of that offence,

    (a) a person shall be deemed not to be guilty of the offence until he is convicted or discharged under section 730 of the offence; and

    (b) a person who is convicted or discharged under section 730 of the offence is not liable to any punishment in respect thereof other than the punishment prescribed by this Act or by the enactment that creates the offence.

    Now, that’s not really the “presumption of innocence” we have come to expect, is it? When you read this section it just does not seem to have that visceral punch I talked about earlier when reacting to the lines spoken in 12 Angry Men. It also does not seem to be conveying the deep, and almost personal societal, values underlying this fundamental premise.

    First, let’s look at the wording. Unlike the Charter equivalent, there is nothing in section 6 about a “presumption” only a “deeming.” So the very word, we hang on when discussing innocence, the “presumption,” which gives the concept such solemnity, is gone. Second, there is nothing in the section about “innocence” although the title suggests it. However, as we know from my previous podcasts, in the Criminal Code the headings are there for convenience only and do not form part of the section itself. Instead, I would suggest, the section seems to be contrary to the presumption of innocence as it focuses instead on the concept of guilt and punishment. The section describes the circumstances in which the court can finally impose punishment. Now to be sure the court needs to hold off until conviction, but as soon as that pre-condition is fulfilled the sanctioning regime kicks in and punishment is not only available but also inevitable. Section 6(1)(b) continues this punishment theme by ensuring that the punishment can only be that as prescribed or authorized by law but it adds nothing to our concept of the presumption of innocence. So this section is not really about the fundamental premise of our criminal justice system, the golden thread of criminal law, but about when punishment can, and will, be meted out.

    To understand why this section reads as it does, a little legislative history is in order. The section first arose in 1886 legislation on punishment entitled An Act Respecting Punishment, Pardons, and the Commutation of Sentence, and was not only subsumed into the first Criminal Code but was placed in the latter part of the Code where the punishment sections resided. The purpose of the section was not therefore to trumpet the fundamental principle of the presumption of innocence but to reinforce the applicability of punishment at the time of a finding of guilt. This concept of punishment only upon conviction was not only consistent with English criminal law but was consistent with chapter 39 of the Magna Carta which stated that:

    No freemen shall be taken or imprisoned or disseised or exiled or in any way destroyed, nor will we go upon him nor send upon him, except by the lawful judgment of his peers or by the law of the land.

    In the original Latin phrase of this article “nisi per legale judicium parium suorum vel per legem terrae,” the Magna Carta protects the accused from punishment without judgment of his equals and in accordance with “the law of the land.” So this idea that an accused is guilty only when he is found guilty, remained under the general punishment section of the Code until 1955, when it was moved to the front part of the Code, namely to section 5(1), but was still viewed as a punishment section as it was then entitled Punishment Only After Conviction. However the wording of the 1955 section does resemble the wording we have today under section 6. It is not until the 1985 revision of the Code, when the section was repealed and reinvigorated as section 6 that it becomes the more venerable presumption of innocence. Of course this reconstitution (forgive my pun) came after the 1982 enactment of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms.

    Understanding this legislative history does give us a better sense of how it came into the Code but why it was renamed the presumption of innocence is an unanswered question requiring deeper investigation than an Internet search. Certainly, looking at case law, this section is rarely invoked as authority for the principle of the presumption of innocence. A quick survey of cases reveals there are only a few such cases (these cases can be found here, here, here, and here) where section 6 was relied upon as propounding the concept but always invoked with the constitutionalized version found under s. 11(d) of the Charter.

    Although I cannot explain why this presumption section is so named, I would like to take a few moments to consider where the concept of the presumption of innocence arose in the first place. In my earlier posting on the issue, I suggested, through the academic writings of George Fletcher that the concept actually migrated to criminal law from the English civil law. I do not want to return to that discussion, instead I want to take us to the moment when the presumption of innocence becomes imbued with the gravitas it now enjoys – the particular moment when the presumption of innocence transformed into the fundamental principle it is today. I have already alluded to that moment earlier in this podcast when I described the presumption as the “golden thread of criminal law.” In first year law school there a few seminal or landmark English cases we discuss and end up knowing virtually by heart. One of them is the case where this “golden thread” metaphor is first used, the 1935 English House of Lords case of Woolmington v. DPP.  The facts of the Woolmington case do not concern us here but the decision, what is written by the then Lord Chancellor of Great Britain, Viscount Sankey, does.

    In order to set the stage for this momentous decision, I need to give a quick legal backgrounder on Lord Sankey and the great impact he had on Canadian law. After the Supreme Court of Canada in 1925 found women were not “persons” under the British North America Act and therefore ineligible to sit in the Senate, the case, known as the Persons case, was appealed to what was then the highest level of appeal, the British Judicial Committee of the Privy Council. Civil appeals to the Privy Council were abolished in 1949, while criminal appeals ended in 1933. Lord Sankey, as a member of the Privy Council, wrote the appeal decision in the Persons Case or Edwards v. Canada (Attorney-General). In the case, reversing the Supreme Court of Canada decision and finding women were indeed “persons,” Lord Sankey commented on the argument that historically women were disbarred from public office. Despite this historical fact, Lord Sankey concluded that “the exclusion of women from all public offices is a relic of days more barbarous than ours” and that “customs are apt to develop into traditions which are stronger than law and remain unchallenged long after the reason for them has disappeared.” In the Persons Case there was no reason why women could not discharge the parliamentary duty of office. In terms of the efficacy of the actual British North America Act, which today we call the Constitution Act, 1867, Lord Sankey, famously remarked that the Act “planted in Canada a living tree capable of growth and expansion within its natural limits.” This metaphor of the Constitution as a living tree has taken root since the 1930 Persons Case and has become a guiding doctrine in our constitutional jurisprudence.

    Needless, to say Lord Sankey has a way with words and the Woolmington case was no exception. On the issue of presumption of innocence, Lord Sankey surveyed the textbooks on the issue and was perplexed to find a suggestion that the presumption was one of guilt and the burden was on the accused to prove otherwise. After running through more cases, Lord Sankey described the fundamental importance of the presumption as:

    Through-out the web of the English Criminal Law one golden thread is always to be seen that it is the duty of the prosecution to prove the prisoner's guilt subject to what I have already said as to the
defence of insanity and subject also to any statutory exception.

    Lord Sankey then connects the presumption of innocence with the burden of proof, which requires the Crown to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. This connection is explored in my previous blog on the issue. So, it was Lord Sankey who gave use this strong visualization of the presumption of innocence and turned the principle into something much more.

    How Lord Sankey came to this golden thread metaphor is puzzling. I suggest that this metaphor must have come from the Greek myth of Ariadne and Theseus. Ariadne gave Theseus a golden thread to help him escape the Minoan Labyrinth after he killed the Minotaur. Thus, the presumption of innocence, as the golden thread of Ariadne, leads the accused out of the maze-like machinations of the criminal law.

    This thread theme is reinforced by a further metaphor, which I also referred to earlier in my podcast; that the presumption of innocence is part of the “fabric” of our society. Indeed, I found a 1965 case, R v Dixon, from the then District Court of Ontario, written by Mr. Justice Robinson wherein he describes the presumption as the “golden thread” that “runs through the warp and woof and is thus firmly imbedded in the whole fabric of the administration of English and Canadian criminal justice.” When I first read this passage, not unlike a Wiki page, I thought someone added the phrase “warp and woof” for a joke. But, like a good researcher, I looked up “warp and woof” and found the following definition:

    The essential foundation or base of any structure or organization; from weaving, in which the warp — the threads that run lengthwise — and the woof — the threads that run across — make up the fabric: “The Constitution and the Declaration of Independence are the warp and woof of the American nation.” This expression, used figuratively since the second half of the 1500s, alludes to the threads that run lengthwise ( warp ) and crosswise ( woof ) in a woven fabric.

    So this thread metaphor is taken in a different direction but is also a good candidate for explaining Lord Sankey’s “golden thread” turn of phrase. By the way, I did take my research a little further to find other cases that have used this archaic phrase. I found only a few cases, some which were actually about fabric making but there was a use of this metaphor in two Supreme Court of Canada constitutional Division of Powers cases; Reference as to the Validity of Section 6 of the Farm Security Act, 1944 of Saskatchewan and the 2009 Consolidated Fastfrate Inc. v. Western Canada Council of Teamsters. Notably, in the 2009 case, Mr. Justice Binnie used the phrase in a delicious quote invoking the world of the 1860s:

    The current Canadian economy would be unrecognizable to the statesmen of 1867 and, to borrow an analogy from Thomas Jefferson, one would not expect a grown man to wear a coat that fitted him as a child.  The coat is of the same design, but the sleeves are longer and the chest is broader and the warp and woof of the fabric is more elaborate and complex.  Adopting a purposive approach to constitutional interpretation, as we must, what is important is not how transportation was viewed in 1867 but rather to match in our own era the level of regulation (federal, provincial or territorial) appropriate to the nature and scope of the undertaking.  Now, as in 1867, when a transportation undertaking connects or extends “beyond the Limits of the Province” its regulation is assigned by the Constitution Act, 1867 to the federal level of authority.

    In 1859, Charles Dickens also used a golden thread metaphor in A Tale Of Two Cities, to suggest a strong bond of familial love created by the indomitable Lucie. Although, there is a strong affiliation between the criminal law and the presumption, I still prefer the Greek myth connection. I should recommend here my previous blog on Charles Dickens and the law called Charles Dickens Is On The Side Of Justice wherein I discuss some of the more legally minded passages of Dickens’s novels. 

    One final aside on this golden thread metaphor brings us to American literature and Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter, where Hester is required to sew a letter “A” onto her clothing as her punishment as an adulterer. As time wears on, Hester proudly marks her shame with an “A” made of golden thread. For Hester, the golden quality of the thread reflects the shame of the community who branded her with their cruelty.

    In some way the golden thread of the presumption of innocence protects us from a similar fate – a society devoid of compassion - or as Chief Justice Dickson, as he then was, reminded us in the 1986 Supreme Court of Canada Oakes case, the presumption of innocence "confirms our faith in humankind; it reflects our belief that individuals are decent and law‑abiding members of the community until proven otherwise." To me, his words are indeed golden.

     

     

    Section 4 Of Cabbages and Kings and Stamps!: Episode Five of the Ideablawg Podcast on the Criminal Code of Canada

    The following is the text of episode 5 of the Ideablawg Podcasts on the Criminal Code  of Canada. The podcast is found at the end of the text. Enjoy!

    "The time has come," the Walrus said,
 "To talk of many things:
 Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

    - Lewis Carroll from The Walrus and The Carpenter

    Welcome to Episode Five of the Ideablawg Podcasts on the Criminal Code of Canada. Today’s episode is a kickoff as we begin to tackle the potpourri we call section 4 – a housekeeping section, which tidies up the various loose ends of criminal law. It brings to mind Lewis Carroll’s poem The Walrus and the Carpenter and particularly the excerpt I quoted at the start of the podcast. But instead of cabbages and kings, we will chat about postcards, stamps, valuable securities, chattels, possession and joint possession, expressions, sexual intercourse, service and notification, and attendance.

    But no oysters – theft of oyster beds will come much later down the road – probably next year - when we discuss section 323.

    The task today will involve a discussion of section 4 in subsection (1) and (2), and remember we are in Part I of the Code called the General Part. These subsections, as I said, tidy up some of the definitions we encountered in s. 2. Section 4 (1) reads as follows:

    For the purposes of this Act, a postal card or stamp referred to in paragraph (c) of the definition “property” in section 2 shall be deemed to be a chattel and to be equal in value to the amount of the postage, rate or duty expressed on its face.

    We see a few words in this paragraph that call out for definition. We are told the section is referring to the definition of “property” under that section 2 definition, but the paragraph really begs the question because now of course we also want to know the definition of “postal card” and “stamp” and “chattel.”

    First let’s take a look at s. 2(c) “property.” It says:

    any postal card, postage stamp or other stamp issued or prepared for issue under the authority of Parliament or the legislature of a province for the payment to the Crown or a corporate body of any fee, rate or duty, whether or not it is in the possession of the Crown or of any person;

    That is of course important to know because the term “property” is used throughout the Code. Indeed a simple word search reveals that the word “property” appears in 161 sections of the Code. Take note that the word “property” is not found under s.322, which is the offence of theft, as the crime involves the taking of “anything, whether animate or inanimate.” Property, as defined under s. 2 is much more restrictive, as the definition in (a) and (b) actually refers to itself - “property.” It is only (c) which gives a concrete example of what property may be – postal cards, postage stamp or other stamp issued by the federal or provincial governments.

    However, a word of caution: case law has considered the seemingly broad actus reus or prohibited act in the theft section and has overlaid a concept of property. Thus, in the 1988 Supreme Court of Canada Stewart case, confidential information was not considered “anything” in accordance with the theft section. Even so, as explained in the SCC 1992 Milne case, the criminal law concept of property does differ from the civil law, just as the purpose of criminal law differs from the purpose of civil law. More on this when we get to that section.

    So s. 4(1) is adding onto that (c) definition – clarifying it for us – by advising us that “postal cards, postage stamp or other stamp” is a chattel with a value equal to the amount expressed on its face. So if you have a stamp for 5 cents its value is 5 cents. Now, that may be a problem as I now purchase stamps with no number value but with a “p” embossed on a nice red maple leaf placed in the stamp’s corner, which, so the post office assures me, means the stamp is “permanent” and can be used anytime as it is worth the going rate no matter when it is used or when it was bought. The other problem is that a 5 cent stamp may actually be a rare stamp and worth much more than the face value. The offender may be charged with theft but which punishment section applies under s. 334? Is it theft of property valued over $5000, which is an indictable offence and punishable by a maximum of ten years? Or is the stamp valued under $5000, which is a summary conviction offence with a maximum of eighteen months imprisonment?

    To answer that question, we need to look at the definition of “stamp.” “Stamp” is only defined under the counterfeit stamp section 376 as “an impressed or adhesive stamp used for the purpose of revenue by the government of Canada or a province or by the government of a state other than Canada.” Not a very helpful definition for the police who want to charge the thief with the theft of the priceless 5 cent stamp, which is worth over $5000 dollars.

    The next question is: what is a chattel and why does this section 4(1) insist on deeming the post card and/or stamp as one?  A chattel is an item of personal property, either animate or inanimate, which is moveable as opposed to real property, which includes land and improvements, which is not moveable. For example, when you purchase a house, which is real property, the items inside the house tend to be chattels, like the furniture, unless it is affixed to the house like the glass fireplace doors. Those items affixed to the real property stay and those, which are moveable, the chattels, usually go with the seller unless the item is specifically referred to in the purchase agreement. What does this mean for our postal card and stamp? It means these items are personal property even though they are government issued. Also they are moveable and thus chattels.

    Onto s. 4(2) for which the marginal note explains is on “value of valuable security.” This subsection helps us determine the value of a valuable security, where value is material, in the context of the Criminal Code by expanding on the definition as found under section 2. So the purpose of this subsection is similar to subsection (1). Before I read this subsection, let’s go to the section 2 definition that reads as follows:

    “valuable security” includes

                (a) an order, exchequer acquittance or other security that entitles or evidences the title of any perso

    (i) to a share or interest in a public stock or fund or in any fund of a body corporate, company or society, or

    (ii) to a deposit in a financial institution,

    (b) any debenture, deed, bond, bill, note, warrant, order or other security for money or for payment of money,

    (c) a document of title to lands or goods wherever situated,

    (d) a stamp or writing that secures or evidences title to or an interest in a chattel personal, or that evidences delivery of a chattel personal, and

    (e) a release, receipt, discharge or other instrument evidencing payment of money;

     Section 4 (2) further defines “valuable security” as:

      (a) where the valuable security is one mentioned in paragraph (a) or (b) of the definition “valuable security” in section 2, the value is the value of the share, interest, deposit or unpaid money, as the case may be, that is secured by the valuable security; 

    (b) where the valuable security is one mentioned in paragraph (c) or (d) of the definition “valuable security” in section 2, the value is the value of the lands, goods, chattel personal or interest in the chattel personal, as the case may be; and 

    (c) where the valuable security is one mentioned in paragraph (e) of the definition “valuable security” in section 2, the value is the amount of money that has been paid.

    How ironic that the purpose of this subsection is to clarify the intrinsic value of the security as opposed to subsection 1, which speaks only of face value. Of course this kind of clarity is required as the valuable security may be a deed to property, which is a document showing land ownership, and is therefore merely a representation of the actual property. Thus, the deed itself is a piece of paper with very little value but it represents much greater value in accordance with the value of the actual land.

    For those of you wondering what “exchequer acquittance” means, the term comes to us from English law, in fact I found a similar definition of “valuable security” in the Irish Larceny Act 1861. The “Exchequer” is the Royal Treasury. Originally, the Exchequer was also a Court of Law concerned with revenue, like our Tax Court, but later merged with the then King’s Bench. As a government department, the Exchequer was in charge of the national revenue of the United Kingdom. An “acquittance” is a document, which acquits or discharges an obligation and acts as a “receipt in full.” So an “exchequer acquittance” is a receipt for payment of revenue to the government. Clearly, the relevancy of this term today is questionable. Just another example of how our Criminal Code needs to be streamlined and updated.

    On that note, I will end this podcast with Shakespeare’s Henry the IV, Part I Act 3 Scene 3 and an exchange between Sir John Falstaff and the future Henry V or as he was known then, Prince Hal, wherein they discuss Falstaff’s bumbled robbery and the positive resolution of it at court. By the way, as an aside, that is a Shakespeare aside, the PBS Hollow Crown series presenting the history plays of Richard II, Henry IV Part 1 and Part 2, and Henry V is outstanding and very worthwhile to watch. In any event, Hal then boasts “I am good friends with my father and may do any thing.” Without skipping a beat, Falstaff urges the Prince to “Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, and do it with unwashed hands too.”

    Thank you and come back next time when we continue our discussion of section 4 of the Criminal Code and whether or not possession is really nine-tenths of the law.

     

     

     

     

     

    Episode 5 Section 4 Of cabbages and Kings and Stamps!

    Section 3.1 and the Effect of Judicial Acts: Episode Four Ideablawg Podcast on the Criminal Code of Canada

    The following is the text version of Episode Four of the Ideablawg Podcasts on the Criminal Code of Canada. At the bottom of the text is the actual podcast. However, I do encourage you to read the text as well and follow the hyperlinks to the cases and other websites to which I refer. Enjoy!

    Welcome to Episode Four of the Ideablawg Podcasts on the Criminal Code of Canada. My name is Lisa Silver and today we are discussing section 3.1 of the Code, which is entitled “Effect of Judicial Acts.” When I started researching this seemingly innocuous procedure section I uncovered some extremely interesting connections that I am really excited to share with you. So let’s dig deep into section 3.1!

    First, I want to set the stage, so to speak, on this section and there are many ways to do this. As I already said, this section is a procedure section. What does that mean? A procedure section involves the process in criminal law as opposed to a substantive law section, which sets out the essential elements of criminal offences or the substance of criminal law.  Criminal procedure is just a set of rules on how that substantive law is enforced and implemented through the criminal justice system. I will reserve a fuller explanation for my blog “basics of Canadian criminal law” series – coming soon.  So, section 3.1 involves the rules of criminal process.

    The placement of s. 3.1 is also of importance. Last podcast, when I introduced s. 3.1 as my next podcast, I did so by identifying the section with its place in the Code. I said that s. 3.1 was the first section to come under Part I of the Code, known as the “General” Part. Oddly enough, when I looked at my annotated Criminal Code, being Martin’s Annual Criminal Code, section 3.1 is not placed under Part 1 General Part but is found under the previous interpretation segment discussed in the last three previous podcasts! To make sure I was not mistaken in my podcast placement, I checked the actual statute as found on both the Department of Justice website and canlii (Canadian Legal Information Institute) website and found that s. 3.1 is found under the General Part as I indicated.

    So is s. 3.1 an interpretation section or is it a General Part section? With all due respect to my favourite annotated Code, I submit section 3.1 properly comes under the General Part as a matter of process as opposed to a matter of interpretation. Also, Martin’s rival, Tremeer’s Criminal Code, which my husband favours, places section 3.1 as the statute does, under the General Part I. Now that would make a good future blog discussion on the various Criminal Codes, both annotated and not, and their history. Now back to this podcast.

    You may wonder how there can be such a discrepancy. I can only speculate but as this section is a fairly recent amendment to the Code, from 2002, the publishers of Martin’s, Canada Law Book, simply placed it after section 3 as opposed to separating the two sections by placing them under different segments. Logically s. 3.1 should come after section 3 but really when the government amends the Code there is often no rhyme or reason to the numbering, as we will see. I mean, where else could they have put this section? I’ll have to think about that.

    So we have physically placed the section and now I will read it to you:

    Unless otherwise provided or ordered, anything done by a court, justice or judge is effective from the moment it is done, whether or not it is reduced to writing.

    What exactly is this section doing? It is in essence creating a presumption. A presumption, which I will later argue is contrary to the common law. This section is telling us that when a court or a specific judicial officer does something – any action such as an order – that act is effective immediately, no matter how it is communicated. So, the presumption is for immediacy. The presumption is however rebuttable, meaning that the court or judge when he does the act can say the act does not take effect immediately. However, if the court or judge says nothing about the time of effectiveness, the presumption is for immediacy.

    Okay. That makes sense. When someone does something they mean it to be done asap unless they indicate otherwise – brings to mind Yul Brynner as Ramses II in the Ten Commandments when he says “so let it be written, so let it be done.” Of course, this is as opposed to Yul as the King of Siam in the King and I where he adds onto all of his orders “etc., etc., etc.”

    It makes sense to be sure but why did the government add this and why did they only add this in 2002?  In order to find out why they added this section, we turn to the Parliamentary records. This section was part of an omnibus Bill C-15 also known as the Criminal Law Amendment Act of 2001, brought in by the then Liberal Government and sponsored by the then Minister of Justice and Attorney-General, the Honourable Anne McLellan. It is amusing and ironic to read the debate on this bill as the opposition, namely the then Canadian Alliance through Vic Toews as the Justice critic, bash the bill because of its omnibus nature. Agreed the bill is an odd mix of Criminal Code amendments, everything from procedural changes such as 3.1 to “animal cruelty, child pornography, and firearms,” but this practice of kitchen-sink amending appears to be pro forma today.

    In McLellan’s speech to kick-start the debate on the second reading of the Bill, she stated:

    Let me turn briefly to the area of criminal procedure reform. The Department of Justice has been working closely with the provinces and territories on criminal procedure reform for some years. This work is now in its third phase. The objectives of phase three are to simplify trial procedure, modernize the criminal justice system and enhance its efficiency through the increased use of technology, better protect victims and witnesses in criminal trials, and provide speedy trials in accordance with charter requirements. We are trying to bring criminal procedure into the 21st century. This phase reflects our efforts to modernize our procedure without in any way reducing the measure of justice provided by the system. As I said at the outset, the provinces and territories support these reforms. As they are responsible for the administration of justice, I believe that we should do our best to give them the tools they need to ensure the efficient and effective operation of the criminal justice system.

    It appears then the amendment was for efficiency and modernization, particularly as a result of the increased use of technology. This is consistent with the legislative history of the amendments, which gives the “key thrust” of the bill is to provide for the use of electronic documents. In terms of section 3.1, the document states:

    As a general matter, clause 2 of the bill ensures the legality and immediate effectiveness of judicial acts from the moment they are done, whether or not they are reduced to writing.  This provision ensures the validity of judicial acts made in a number of circumstances where hard-copy documentary proof of the act is not immediately generated.   Such situations could include judicial decisions in the form of orders or warrants which may be issued electronically or orally by telephone or some other form of audio or audio-visual communications link.

    There may be another reason for this change as well. Such a rule, albeit worded differently, is found in some provincial rules of court. Each court level has rules to assist them in the nuts and bolts of the organization and maintenance of the courts as well as procedure. Criminal procedure, as a result of s. 91(27) the Constitution Act, 1867, is within the power of Parliament, while s. 92(14) gives the provinces the power to administer justice in the province through rules on civil procedure and the “constitution, maintenance, and organization” of the civil and criminal courts. In terms of civil procedure each provinces rules of court apply. There are also criminal rules, which tend to the organizational side, leaving the procedure, as required by the Constitution Act, with the feds.

    Just looking at the Alberta Rules of Court, which were completely overhauled in 2010, rule 9.6 states that the effective date of “every judgment and every order” is on the “date of pronouncement” unless the court orders otherwise. It is similar to section 3.1 yet different. The civil rule is restricted to judgments and orders and to “pronouncements.” According to various dictionaries, “pronouncement” means a formal declaration, usually a judgment. Of course, the Criminal Code section applies to any act of the court and is therefore much broader.

    Now we understand why the government decided to put this section into the Code but what is the effect of this effect of judicial acts? For that we are going to look at some case law and the concept of functus. The word functus is from the Latin word fungor, which means to execute or administer or to discharge. When used in its legal sense, it refers to the phrase functus officio, when a judge has exhausted his or her authority over the matter and can no longer alter his or her decision. It typically applies to final decisions of the court. A judge would be functus officio when he or she acquits an accused of a criminal offence. That finding is final, in the sense, that judge no longer has any power over the accused and the case. In other words, the judge cannot re-open the case or amend a final decision unless there has been an administrative “slip” in the decision or “error in expressing the manifest intention of the court.” Instead, there are appellate remedies but the trial judge is now functus and out of the game.

    The concept or doctrine of functus officio originally comes from English common law on the premise that we need some finality in court in order for parties to an action to have finality as well. However, this common law rule applied to the final formal judgment and did not apply to any and all acts done by the judge. In fact the common law rule made allowances for informal reasons that may be changed. That is still the law in England, where there is “within the powers of a judge to reconsider his or her decision at any time before it is entered and perfected.” Section 3.1 has now changed the common law. This was recognized in 2004 in the Alberta Queen’s Bench decision in R. v. Harris.

    Next podcast, we will be dealing with section 4, which can be viewed as an omnibus section of unrelated statements regarding interpretation of the application of criminal law. It does sound as if this section should be in that interpretation segment but we will see that this section goes further than interpretation to position all users of the Criminal Code on common ground. In this way, this section truly deals with generalities and thus properly in the General Part of the Code.

     

    Episode Four Ideablawg Podcast on Section 3.1 and the effect of Judicial Acts