Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: August 17, 2026 Until December 2018, it was a criminal offence in Canada to challenge someone to a duel. Not to fight one, to challenge one. Simply provoking, or agreeing to answer, a challenge could send a person to prison for up to two years.[1] The law traced back to a very specific piece of Canadian history: a pistol duel fought outside Perth, Ontario, in 1833, the last one in the country's history to end in a death. What Section 71 Actually Said Former section 71 of the Criminal Code made it an indictable offence to challenge or attempt to provoke another person to fight a duel, to attempt to provoke someone to challenge a third party to a duel, or to accept a challenge to fight one. Conviction carried a maximum sentence of two years.[1] The offence did not require an actual duel to take place. The mere act of issuing or accepting a challenge was enough to satisfy the law, regardless of whether pistols were ever raised. The Last Fatal Duel in Canada The provision existed on paper for well over a century, but Canada's last known duel-related death happened decades before the modern Criminal Code was even written. On June 13, 1833, two young law students in Perth, Upper Canada, John Wilson and Robert Lyon, fought a pistol duel over remarks Lyon had made about a local schoolteacher, Elizabeth Hughes.[2] The dispute began after Wilson overheard Lyon disparage Hughes at a tavern in Bytown, reported the comment in a letter, and word got back to Lyon. The two later clashed at the Perth courthouse, where Lyon struck Wilson. Wilson responded by challenging Lyon to a duel.[3] The two men met at dawn on the bank of the Tay River, just outside town. Lyon's second, a former army officer named Henry Le Lievre, is generally described by historians as having pushed the dispute toward violence rather than toward reconciliation.[4] The first exchange of shots missed. On the second, Lyon was struck and died on the spot. Le Lievre fled the country. Wilson turned himself in to authorities and was charged with murder, tried at the assizes in Brockville, and acquitted.[2][5] The acquittal was significant for reasons beyond the individual case. Duelling occupied an unusual legal position in the nineteenth century: formally illegal, but often tolerated as a matter of honour among the educated classes, and juries in that era were frequently reluctant to convict participants, particularly when the survivor had followed the accepted code of conduct for a duel. Wilson's acquittal fit that pattern. He went on to be called to the bar in 1835, married Elizabeth Hughes, and later served as both a member of Parliament and a judge, a trajectory that would be almost unthinkable for an acquitted killer today, and that says as much about the period's attitude toward duelling as any statute did.[2][6] No fatal duel is known to have occurred in Canada since. Why the Law Survived So Long Section 71 and its predecessors remained on the books for well over a century after anyone was last prosecuted under them, in large part because Parliament rarely revisits Criminal Code provisions once the conduct they address has effectively disappeared. Canada inherited its duelling prohibition from English law, and the offence was carried into Canada's first consolidated Criminal Code in 1892 and, with only minor wording changes, into every revision since.[7] By the twenty-first century, section 71 sat alongside a handful of other provisions widely regarded as relics: a ban on fraudulently pretending to practise witchcraft, restrictions on "crime comics," and an offence for advertising a reward for stolen property with a promise that no questions would be asked.[8][9] None of these saw meaningful enforcement, but removing them required a legislative act, not simply disuse. The 2018 Repeal That legislative act came in the form of Bill C-51, introduced by then-Justice Minister Jody Wilson-Raybould on June 6, 2017, as part of a broader effort to remove Criminal Code provisions that were unconstitutional, redundant, or obsolete.[9][10] Alongside the duelling offence, the bill repealed the witchcraft provision, the crime comics restrictions, and several other rarely used sections, while separately amending parts of the Code relating to sexual assault procedure.[9] Bill C-51 received royal assent on December 13, 2018, formally removing section 71 from the Criminal Code.[10] What the Law Says Instead, Today Repealing section 71 did not legalize violence. It simply removed the specific offence of challenging or accepting a challenge to a duel, on the reasoning that any actual harm arising from a duel was, and remains, fully covered by other parts of the Criminal Code, including assault, manslaughter, and murder.[9] Modern Canadian law is, if anything, less forgiving of consensual violence than the era of the Perth duel. In R. v. Jobidon, the Supreme Court of Canada held that adults cannot legally consent to the intentional infliction of serious bodily harm in a fight, a ruling that arose from a fistfight outside a bar near Sudbury in 1986 that left one man dead, and that upheld a manslaughter conviction despite both men having agreed to fight.[11] The Court later confirmed and applied that principle in R. v. Paice, a case involving a fatal fistfight outside a Saskatchewan bar in 2001.[12] Under that line of cases, two people agreeing to a duel today would offer neither party any defence to a resulting assault, manslaughter, or murder charge, regardless of whether the old duelling-specific offence still existed. Whether Canada's modern reluctance to prosecute would extend to a duel the way it once extended acquittals to John Wilson is untested and, one hopes, likely to remain that way. References [1] Government of Canada, Justice Laws Website, Criminal Code, Section 71 (Duelling), archived version. https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/c-46/section-71-20030101.html [2] Wikipedia, John Wilson (Ontario politician, born 1807). https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Wilson_(Ontario_politician,_born_1807) [3] Mysteries of Canada, Upper Canada's Last Duel. https://mysteriesofcanada.com/ontario/last-duel/ [4] Ontario Heritage Trust, Last Fatal Duel, 1833. https://www.heritagetrust.on.ca/en/plaques/last-fatal-duel-1833 [5] Lanark County Genealogy Society, The Duel of 1833. https://lanarkgenealogy.com/lcgs-online-resource-library/articles/the-duel-of-1833/ [6] Wikipedia, Robert Lyon (duellist). https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Lyon_(duellist) [7] Ideablawg, Episode 57: Section 71 Duelling Is Gone But Section 70 Unlawful Drilling Remains. https://www.ideablawg.ca/blog/2019/6/23/episode-57-section-71-duelling-is-gone-but-section-70-unlawful-drilling-remains-text-version-see-podcast-page-for-audio [8] Smithsonian Magazine, En Garde! (Nonviolent) Dueling Will Soon Be Legal in Canada. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/en-garde-dueling-will-soon-be-legal-canada-180963653/ [9] Department of Justice Canada, Bill C-51: An Act to amend the Criminal Code and the Department of Justice Act. https://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/csj-sjc/pl/cuol-mgnl/c51.html [10] Library of Parliament, Legislative Summary of Bill C-51. https://lop.parl.ca/sites/PublicWebsite/default/en_CA/ResearchPublications/LegislativeSummaries/421C51E [11] Wikipedia, R v Jobidon. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R_v_Jobidon [12] CanLII, R. v. Paice, 2005 SCC 22, [2005] 1 SCR 339. https://www.canlii.org/en/ca/scc/doc/2005/2005scc22/2005scc22.html

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: August 10, 2026 For more than a century, Canada's Criminal Code contained an unusual offence that few Canadians knew existed. Former section 49 made it an indictable offence, punishable by up to 14 years' imprisonment, to wilfully do an act intended to alarm the Sovereign, break the public peace, or cause bodily harm to the Sovereign while in her presence. [1] Despite remaining part of Canadian law for well over 100 years, there is no reported case in which anyone was prosecuted under the provision. It was repealed in December 2018 as part of Parliament's effort to modernize Canada's criminal laws by removing obsolete offences. [3] A Crime Dating Back to Canada's Early Criminal Code Canada's first comprehensive Criminal Code, enacted in 1892, contained a broader predecessor to section 49, then titled "Assaults on the Queen." At the time, a conviction could also result in corporal punishment — the accused could be sentenced to be whipped. [4] Much of the original Code drew heavily from English criminal law, reflecting Canada's constitutional relationship with the British Crown. At the time, the Sovereign was viewed not merely as a ceremonial figure, but as the legal embodiment of the state. Protecting the monarch was therefore considered part of protecting the stability and authority of the government itself. The provision was not a piece of abstract legislative housekeeping. Its specific prohibited acts closely paralleled a series of real assaults and assassination attempts against Queen Victoria in Britain during the nineteenth century — among them Robert Pate's 1850 attack, in which he struck the Queen with a cane. [4] That pattern of European attacks on reigning monarchs heightened concerns about royal safety generally, making special legal protections appear both reasonable and necessary at the time Canada's Code was drafted. The 1892 Code itself was introduced in the House of Commons as Bill 7 on March 8, 1892, by Sir John Thompson, then Minister of Justice and Attorney General of Canada, who later became Prime Minister. [7] The actual drafting was handled by his Justice Department officials — Deputy Minister Robert Sedgewick and his predecessor George Burbidge, by then a judge of the Exchequer Court — drawing on four sources Thompson identified to Parliament: the 1880 English Draft Code prepared by Sir James Fitzjames Stephen, Stephen's 1887 Digest of the Criminal Law, Burbidge's own 1889 Digest of Canadian Criminal Law, and existing Canadian statute law. [7] [8] Passage through Parliament was notably swift and largely uncontroversial for a bill of its size, moving from second reading to final approval in roughly two months, and it received Royal Assent on July 9, 1892, coming into force on July 1, 1893. [8] The only significant opposition came from Supreme Court Justice Henri-Elzéar Taschereau, who objected to the broader concept of codifying the criminal law at all, rather than to this provision specifically. [8] "Assaults on the Queen" itself was placed within a cluster of offences against the Crown's authority and person — alongside treason and inciting mutiny — rather than singled out for debate on its own. There is no indication in the historical record that the provision attracted particular scrutiny or controversy at the time. The offence was later renamed "Assaults upon the King" following Edward VII's accession in 1901, and took the form most Canadians would recognize — centred on "alarm" rather than physical assault alone — following the 1954 revision of the Code. [4] What Did Former Section 49 Prohibit? In its final form, former section 49 of the Criminal Code read: "Every one who wilfully, in the presence of Her Majesty, (a) does an act with intent to alarm Her Majesty or to break the public peace, or (b) does an act that is intended or is likely to cause bodily harm to Her Majesty, is guilty of an indictable offence and liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding fourteen years." [1] The offence therefore covered two distinct types of conduct: acts done with the specific intent to alarm the Sovereign or to break the public peace in her presence, and acts intended or likely to cause her bodily harm. The first branch required proof of a genuine, deliberate intent — it was not enough that an act happened to frighten or concern the monarch by accident. The second branch was somewhat broader, since it could also be met by conduct that was merely "likely" to cause harm, without full proof of intent. [4] Conviction carried a maximum sentence of 14 years' imprisonment, reflecting the seriousness with which Parliament historically viewed offences against the Crown. Was Anyone Ever Charged? Although members of the Royal Family have visited Canada countless times since Confederation, no reported Canadian decision indicates that anyone was ever charged or convicted under former section 49. Likewise, there are no well-documented reports of police threatening to lay this specific charge during royal tours or public demonstrations. When security incidents did occur, authorities instead relied on more practical Criminal Code offences such as assault, uttering threats, weapons offences, causing a disturbance, or breach of the peace. The absence of reported prosecutions suggests the offence existed primarily as a safeguard rather than as a provision regularly used by law enforcement. Why Was the Law Never Used? By the latter half of the twentieth century, former section 49 had become largely unnecessary. Modern criminal offences already prohibited conduct that could endanger or intimidate the Sovereign, including: Assault and assault with a weapon; Uttering threats; Criminal harassment; Weapons offences; Public order offences; and Terrorism-related offences where applicable. Unlike section 49, these provisions applied equally regardless of who the intended victim was. They were also generally easier to prosecute because they did not require proof that the accused specifically intended to alarm the Sovereign, or that the accused was aware of being in her presence. As Canada's criminal law evolved, the special offence protecting the Sovereign became increasingly redundant. Parliament Removes an Obsolete Offence Section 49 was repealed by Bill C-51, an Act to amend the Criminal Code and the Department of Justice Act, which received Royal Assent on December 13, 2018. [3] The bill removed a number of Code provisions Parliament considered outdated, unconstitutional, or unnecessary. The Library of Parliament's legislative summary identified section 49 among the provisions repealed because the conduct it addressed was already adequately covered elsewhere in the Code, making the specific offence redundant. [3] The repeal was part of a broader effort to modernize the Code and eliminate provisions that had become superfluous over time. Importantly, repealing section 49 did not reduce legal protections for the Sovereign or members of the Royal Family. Conduct involving threats, violence, harassment, or attacks remains fully criminal under numerous other provisions of the Criminal Code. A Window Into Canada's Legal History Although former section 49 appears never to have been enforced, it offers a fascinating glimpse into the evolution of Canadian criminal law. The provision reflected an era when offences against the Crown were viewed differently from offences against ordinary citizens, and when special legal protections for the monarch were considered an important safeguard for the state itself. Today, Canadian criminal law generally favours offences that protect all individuals equally, regardless of their office or status. The repeal of section 49 illustrates how the Criminal Code has gradually shifted away from highly specialized historical offences toward broader provisions that address harmful conduct in a more consistent and practical manner. Former section 49 therefore remains less notable for how it was used than for the fact that, despite existing for more than a century and carrying a maximum penalty of 14 years' imprisonment, it appears never to have been used at all. References [1] Criminal Code, R.S.C. 1985, c. C-46 (archived), former s. 49. https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/c-46/section-49-20030101.html [2] The Criminal Code, 1892, S.C. 1892, c. 29. [3] Library of Parliament, Legislative Summary of Bill C-51: An Act to amend the Criminal Code and the Department of Justice Act and to make consequential amendments to another Act, Publication No. 42-1-C51-E. https://lop.parl.ca/sites/PublicWebsite/default/en_CA/ResearchPublications/LegislativeSummaries/421C51E [4] Lisa Silver, "Episode 44 of the Ideablawg Podcasts on the Criminal Code of Canada: Section 49 – Alarming The Queen," Ideablawg (March 19, 2016). https://www.ideablawg.ca/blog/2016/3/19/ondj7suz56fh1ddq1ybatdmvzss112 [7] Public Prosecution Service of Canada, Federal Prosecution Service Deskbook, Chapter 1: Sources of the Criminal Law in Canada. https://www.ppsc-sppc.gc.ca/eng/pub/fpsd-sfpg/fps-sfp/fpd/ch01.html [8] Alan W. Mewett, "The Canadian Criminal Code, 1892-1992," 1993 CanLIIDocs 166. https://www.canlii.org/en/commentary/doc/1993CanLIIDocs166

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: August 3, 2026 Parliament runs on rules that most Canadians never see: notice periods, programming motions, and standing orders that decide who gets to speak, for how long, and when a vote must happen whether debate is finished or not. Over the past fourteen months, as the Carney government moved from a minority to a majority, several of those rules have been used often enough, and visibly enough, to walk through what happened, when, and under what legal authority, so readers can judge for themselves whether Parliament is functioning as designed. The Rules That Make This Possible Three mechanisms account for most of what follows. Time allocation and programming motions, under Standing Order 78, let the government set a fixed, often compressed, period for debate on a bill at a given stage, including how many days a committee gets to hear witnesses and consider amendments.[1] Closure, under Standing Order 57, forces a final vote on whatever is before the House after one sitting day's notice.[2] In camera committee meetings are a longstanding feature of committee practice: a majority of members present can vote to close a meeting to the public, turning off the cameras and ending the public record of that portion of the meeting. The decision to go in camera, like almost everything else at committee, is made by majority vote, so whichever party controls the most seats controls when the public can watch.[3] None of these tools require a court order or a change in statute. They are entirely legal, and the Speaker has no discretion to block a procedurally valid motion. Whether their use reflects reasonable legislative management or an end run around scrutiny is a political judgment, not a legal one, since the Standing Orders fall within parliamentary privilege and are largely shielded from judicial review.[1] June 2025: Bill C-5 and the "Super Closure" Bill C-5, the One Canadian Economy Act, was introduced June 6, 2025, giving cabinet sweeping new power to fast-track infrastructure projects, including the ability to exempt them from other federal laws.[4] On June 16, the government moved a programming motion capping debate sharply: only a handful of members per party could speak at each stage, and the committee studying the bill got two sitting days. The motion passed with Conservative support; the Bloc, NDP, and Greens opposed it.[4] The bill passed third reading June 20 and received royal assent June 26.[4][5] How the Government Actually Reached a Majority This part matters, because it is the mechanism that made everything after it possible. Canadians elected a Liberal minority in the April 28, 2025 election: 169 seats, short of the 172 needed for a majority.[6] Over the next six months, that changed, not through a vote by the public, but through five MPs leaving the parties they were elected under to join the Liberal caucus, with no byelection in any of their ridings: Chris d'Entremont (Conservative, West Nova, N.S.), Michael Ma (Conservative, Markham-Unionville, Ont.), Matt Jeneroux (Conservative, Edmonton Riverbend, Alta.), Lori Idlout (NDP, Nunavut), and Marilyn Gladu (Conservative, Sarnia-Lambton-Bkejwanong, Ont.), crossing in that order between November 4, 2025, and April 8, 2026.[7][8] Under the rules governing the House, a seat belongs to the member, not the party, so none of these five had to face voters again. Constituents in all five ridings had voted for a Conservative or NDP candidate and, without another ballot, ended up represented by a government MP. Prime Minister Carney has defended courting the defectors directly, calling one "exceptionally valuable" to the government and saying of the group generally that "they came to us."[9] Three more seats then changed hands legitimately: byelections held April 13, 2026, in ridings vacated for unrelated reasons, gave the Liberals a clean majority of 174.[10] CBC reported plainly that while floor-crossing is old in Canadian politics, no prime minister had previously used it to convert a minority into a majority; a Globe and Mail columnist called it, for the first time in Canadian history, floor-crossing alone catapulting a party from minority to majority.[7][11] Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre accused the Liberals of trying to "manipulate" their way to a majority rather than earning one; polling found Canadians close to evenly split on whether that was a good thing.[12] April 2026: The Committees Change Hands Once the Liberals had their majority, committees changed fast. On April 27, 2026, the day the byelection winners took their seats, the government limited debate on, then passed, a motion restructuring committees to give Liberals a majority of seats on each. Opposition House Leader Andrew Scheer said the new MPs' first vote would be one to "check your soul in at the door."[13][10] Within days the majority was in use. By April 30, Liberal members had moved four committees, ethics, health, science, and transport, in camera for government business, turning off the cameras. Scheer put it plainly: going in camera "means the cameras are actually shut off."[14][15] At the veterans affairs committee, Liberals voted on the main estimates and the chair then adjourned unilaterally, cutting off a Conservative motion to study budget cuts to veterans.[15] At the human resources committee, after a Bloc motion demanding documents on a $6.6-billion IT project, Liberals instead moved straight to unrelated committee business, sidelining it. Conservative MP Blake Richards said committees were being shut down that were "in place to hold the government accountable."[16] June 2026: Bill C-22 and the Return of the Guillotine On June 16, 2026, the government moved to sharply cut the time the public safety committee could spend on Bill C-22, the Lawful Access Act. The committee passed a dozen amendments in a marathon 25-hour session before the government's motion forced the bill forward regardless; it passed third reading June 18.[17][18] Conservative critic Frank Caputo called it "the most aggressive programming motion" of his five years in Parliament, warning that courts would eventually judge provisions MPs were asked to pass without debate.[19] The Bigger Picture None of these tools is new. The Harper government used closure or time allocation roughly 100 times over four years, a record the Liberals themselves campaigned against.[20] What is different this year is the route to the majority behind it: a government that no longer needed to negotiate with any opposition party, built primarily through MPs switching sides rather than through an election result. Nothing described here broke a Standing Order or an election law. Floor-crossing without a byelection, programming motions, time allocation, and in-camera committee votes are all permitted under Canada's constitutional conventions and its own internal rules. The story of the past year is not one of a government breaking Parliament's rules. It is a story of how far those rules, including the rule that a seat belongs to the member rather than the party, can be used once a government has the votes. References [1] House of Commons of Canada, House of Commons Procedure and Practice, Fourth Edition: Time Allocation. https://www.ourcommons.ca/procedure-and-practice-4/ch14-5-e.html [2] House of Commons of Canada, Annotated Standing Orders, Chapter VIII: Motions (Standing Order 57). https://www.ourcommons.ca/About/ASOII/12_ASOII_Chap08-e.html [3] House of Commons of Canada, House of Commons Procedure and Practice, Fourth Edition: Committees, Meetings. https://www.ourcommons.ca/procedure-and-practice-4/ch20-7-e.html [4] Wikipedia, One Canadian Economy Act. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/One_Canadian_Economy_Act [5] CBC News, Liberals' major projects bill passes House of Commons with Conservative support. https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/bill-c-5-passes-1.7566780 [6] The Globe and Mail, Conservative MP Matt Jeneroux crosses floor to Liberals. https://www.theglobeandmail.com/politics/article-conservative-matt-jeneroux-joins-liberals/ [7] CBC News, How rare is it for a prime minister to attract 5 floor-crossers in 5 months?. https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/history-floor-crossing-to-join-government-9.7126641 [8] CBC News, Former Conservative MP Marilyn Gladu crosses floor to Liberals. https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/conservative-mp-marilyn-gladu-crosses-floor-to-liberals-9.7156167 [9] Global News, Carney calls floor-crossing ex-Conservative MP 'exceptionally valuable', and 'They came to us,' Carney says on Conservative MPs crossing the floor. https://globalnews.ca/tag/chris-dentremont [10] CBC News, Liberals formalize majority, move to limit debate on committee restructuring. https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/liberal-majority-new-mps-9.7178977 [11] The Globe and Mail (Opinion), The odd floor-crossing is one thing, but on this scale it undermines our system of government. https://www.theglobeandmail.com/opinion/article-floor-crossing-on-this-scale-undermines-our-system-of-government/ [12] Angus Reid Institute, Floor Crossing Divides Canadians. https://angusreid.org/floor-crossing-liberals-conservatives-carney-majority-poilievre/ [13] The Canadian Press, Liberals formalize majority, move to limit debate on committee restructuring. https://www.thecanadianpressnews.ca/national/liberals-formalize-majority-move-to-limit-debate-on-committee-restructuring/article_88d76ffb-1931-58b5-bdf7-c8821f626f46.html [14] Global News, Liberals want committees to be 'open,' minister says as Tories cry foul. https://globalnews.ca/news/11826939/liberals-committees-transparency-majority-mackinnon/ [15] CBC News, Liberals use majority to move some parliamentary committees behind closed doors. https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/liberals-in-camera-parliamentary-committees-9.7182912 [16] The Canadian Press, Liberals shut down committee debate on $6.6-billion IT project. https://www.thecanadianpressnews.ca/national/liberals-shut-down-committee-debate-on-6-6-billion-it-project/article_88100085-847c-5ae1-9398-b3e1fd8ca41c.html [17] CBC News, Conservatives blast Liberals for trying to 'ram' controversial lawful access bill through House. https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/lawful-access-bill-motion-house-of-commons-9.7237767 [18] The Hub, The Carney government's expanding power to identify Canadians online, access their data, and punish them. https://thehub.ca/2026/07/06/the-carney-governments-expanding-power-to-identify-canadians-online-access-their-data-and-punish-them/ [19] BetaKit, Bill C-22 passes third reading after Liberals adopt measures to limit debate. https://betakit.com/liberals-limit-debate-on-lawful-access-act-to-rush-legislation-forward/ [20] John Ivison, Parliament still matters, despite Carney's majority. https://johnivison.substack.com/p/parliament-still-matters-despite

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: July 27, 2026 False accusations are often associated with modern society, but they are nearly as old as civilization itself. Thousands of years before police investigations, forensic science or constitutional rights existed, the people of ancient Mesopotamia understood that a false allegation could destroy an innocent person's life and threaten the stability of society. As a result, some of the world's earliest written laws imposed severe penalties on those who deliberately made accusations they could not prove. [1][2] These laws reveal that one of the oldest principles of justice—that serious allegations require evidence—has existed for almost four thousand years. Why Were False Accusations Such a Serious Problem? Life in ancient Mesopotamia was very different from today. There were no police detectives, fingerprint analysis, DNA testing, surveillance cameras or forensic laboratories. When someone accused another person of committing a crime, judges often had little more than witness testimony, written agreements and sworn oaths to determine the truth. [2][3] This meant that a dishonest accusation could have devastating consequences. An innocent person could lose property, freedom or even their life if a court believed false testimony. To protect the justice system, lawmakers recognized that there had to be consequences for making accusations without proof. The Code of Hammurabi Around 1754 BCE, King Hammurabi of Babylon introduced one of history's best-known legal codes. Containing approximately 282 laws, the Code governed matters ranging from contracts and property disputes to theft, assault and family law. [2][4] Significantly, the very first law addressed false accusations. Rather than beginning with theft, murder or property disputes, the Code began by protecting the integrity of the justice system itself. Many historians believe this demonstrates the importance Babylonian society placed on truthful evidence and honest court proceedings. [2][5] Law 1: Making a False Accusation Law 1 of the Code of Hammurabi states: "If anyone brings an accusation against a man, and the accused does not prove it, then he who brought the accusation shall be put to death if the accusation involved a capital offence." [1] The wording can seem confusing to modern readers because of the ancient translation. In practical terms, the law meant that if someone accused another person of a crime punishable by death but could not prove the allegation, the false accuser could receive the same punishment they sought to impose on the accused. [1][2] This was one of the earliest recorded legal attempts to discourage malicious or fabricated allegations. Law 3: False Witnesses The Code went even further. Law 3 dealt specifically with witnesses who knowingly lied during court proceedings. It provided that if a witness intentionally gave false testimony in a serious criminal case, that witness could face the same punishment that the accused would have received had the false testimony been believed. [1] This reflected an important legal principle: intentionally misleading the court was considered an attack on justice itself. Why Were the Punishments So Severe? To modern readers, these punishments appear extraordinarily harsh. However, ancient Babylonian courts depended almost entirely on truthful witnesses. Unlike modern courts, judges could not rely on forensic science, expert witnesses, electronic records or scientific testing. If someone deliberately lied under oath, there were few ways to independently verify the truth. [2][3] Lawmakers believed severe penalties would discourage individuals from making false allegations simply to settle personal disputes, gain property or seek revenge. The goal was not merely to punish dishonesty—it was to protect the credibility of the justice system. How Did Courts Determine the Truth? Babylonian judges considered several forms of evidence. They heard witness testimony, reviewed written contracts recorded on clay tablets and required parties to swear solemn oaths before the gods. Professional scribes documented legal proceedings, creating written records that still survive today. [3][6] Because religion and law were closely connected, intentionally lying under oath was believed to carry both legal and divine consequences. Even with these safeguards, some cases remained difficult to prove. Trial by River When evidence was limited, particularly in certain serious accusations such as sorcery, the court could order what historians refer to as a trial by river. [1][2] The accused entered the Euphrates River. If the person survived, the gods were believed to have demonstrated their innocence. If the person drowned, the gods were believed to have revealed guilt. Although this method is incompatible with modern concepts of justice, it reflected the deeply held belief that divine judgment would reveal the truth where human evidence could not. Were These the First Laws Against False Accusations? The Code of Hammurabi contains the earliest well-preserved and clearly documented laws specifically addressing false accusations and false testimony. [1][2] Earlier Mesopotamian legal codes, including the Code of Ur-Nammu and the Laws of Eshnunna, established written laws governing crime, property and compensation. However, the Code of Hammurabi provides the clearest surviving examples of explicit penalties for making unproven accusations and giving false evidence in court. [7][8] For this reason, historians frequently cite Hammurabi's Code as containing some of the earliest recorded laws directly protecting the integrity of judicial proceedings. A Principle That Still Exists Today Modern legal systems no longer punish false accusers with death. Instead, justice systems rely on constitutional protections, due process, independent courts and scientific evidence. Nevertheless, the underlying principle has remained remarkably consistent for nearly four thousand years. Canadian law continues to recognize the seriousness of deliberately false information provided to the justice system through offences such as perjury, public mischief, fabricating evidence and obstructing justice. Although the penalties and procedures have changed dramatically, the objective remains the same: protecting the integrity of the courts and ensuring that serious allegations are supported by credible evidence. The first written laws against false accusations remind us that justice has always depended upon one fundamental principle—truth matters. References [1] The Code of Hammurabi, translated by L. W. King, Yale Law School Avalon Project.https://avalon.law.yale.edu/ancient/hamframe.asp [2] Encyclopaedia Britannica, Code of Hammurabi.https://www.britannica.com/topic/Code-of-Hammurabi [3] British Museum, Mesopotamia.https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/galleries/mesopotamia [4] The Louvre Museum, Law Code Stele of Hammurabi.https://www.louvre.fr/en/explore/the-palace/the-code-of-hammurabi [5] Martha T. Roth (ed.), Law Collections from Mesopotamia and Asia Minor, 2nd ed., Scholars Press, 1997. [6] World History Encyclopedia, The Code of Hammurabi.https://www.worldhistory.org/Code_of_Hammurabi/ [7] Encyclopaedia Britannica, Code of Ur-Nammu.https://www.britannica.com/topic/Code-of-Ur-Nammu [8] Encyclopaedia Britannica, Laws of Eshnunna.https://www.britannica.com/topic/Laws-of-Eshnunna

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: August 2, 2026 Every year, hundreds of thousands of Canadians are released from custody while their criminal charges work their way through the courts. Almost all of them are handed a list of conditions to follow: report to a supervisor, respect a curfew, avoid a certain person, stay away from a certain neighbourhood, surrender a passport. For most people, following those conditions is straightforward. For many others, it is not — and the consequences of getting it wrong are more serious than they might expect. In Canadian criminal law, a court order is not a suggestion. Once an undertaking or release order is in place, the obligation to follow it becomes a matter of criminal liability in its own right, entirely separate from whatever charge triggered the conditions in the first place. Section 145 of the Criminal Code is the provision that makes this so, and it is one of the most frequently used — and least understood — parts of the entire Code. [1] The Supreme Court of Canada has been blunt about how often it comes up. In R v Zora, the Court observed that failure to comply offences make up a significant portion of the administration of justice charges that occupy the country's criminal courts, adding that many of the people caught up in these charges never actually committed an act that most Canadians would think of as criminal. [2] What Section 145 Actually Covers Section 145 is not one offence — it is a cluster of related offences, all aimed at ensuring that court process and release conditions are respected. Depending on the subsection, a person can be charged with: Failing to attend court, or failing to surrender themselves into custody, while released on a court order Failing to appear in response to an appearance notice, promise to appear, or summons Failing to comply with a condition of an undertaking given to police or the court Failing to comply with a condition of a release order made by a judge or justice Failing to comply with certain orders related to fingerprinting or identification procedures Each of these can be prosecuted either summarily or by indictment, depending on the circumstances of the case and the Crown's election. That flexibility matters in practice: it allows minor, technical breaches to be dealt with relatively quickly, while more serious or repeated non-compliance can be pursued as an indictable matter with heavier potential consequences. [1] A Charge With a Life of Its Own One of the most misunderstood features of section 145 is that it does not depend on what happens to the original charge. A person can be prosecuted for breaching bail conditions even if the underlying offence that got them released in the first place is later withdrawn, stayed, or ends in an acquittal. The breach is treated as its own wrong against the administration of justice, not as an add-on to the original case. This is why the legal question in a section 145 prosecution is narrow and specific: did a valid order exist, and were its terms not followed without lawful excuse? Whether the person was ultimately guilty of the offence that led to the conditions being imposed is, legally speaking, beside the point. [1] Where the Conditions Come From: Undertakings and Release Orders Section 145 arises most often in the bail context. When someone is arrested and not held for a bail hearing, police can release them on an undertaking with conditions attached. When a bail hearing does take place, a judge or justice of the peace can impose a release order, again with conditions designed to address specific, recognized concerns: making sure the accused shows up for trial, protecting public safety, and maintaining public confidence in the justice system. [4] In practice, this produces a familiar list of conditions: reporting to a bail supervisor on a schedule, curfews or house arrest, geographic restrictions, no-contact conditions naming a specific person, and weapons prohibitions. These conditions are not supposed to be imposed reflexively. In R v Antic, the Supreme Court confirmed that release conditions must be reasonable and necessary, and reaffirmed what is often called the "ladder principle": the law favours release at the earliest reasonable opportunity, on the least onerous conditions that address the actual risks in the case. [3] Antic itself illustrates what happens when that principle is ignored. Franco Antic, charged with drug and firearms offences, was ordered to post $100,000 in cash bail even though neither he nor his proposed sureties had ready access to that kind of money — despite the fact that a recognizance with sureties, which does not require cash up front, would have served the same purpose. It took him months in custody to raise the funds. The Supreme Court held that the reviewing judge had skipped over the less restrictive options the ladder principle requires courts to consider, and that treating cash as automatically more effective than a pledge was a legal error. Writing for a unanimous Court, Justice Wagner stressed that release is favoured at the earliest reasonable opportunity and on the least onerous grounds, and that each less restrictive rung of the ladder must be rejected before a judge moves to something stricter. [3] Antic attracted attention because it was widely seen as a corrective to a bail culture that had drifted toward over-caution — piling on conditions and cash requirements more for administrative comfort than because they were legally justified. Its significance lies less in any single legal test and more in the message it sent to bail courts across the country: unnecessary conditions are not a neutral, harmless precaution. They are conditions someone can be criminally charged for breaching, so they should not be imposed lightly. The Fault Requirement: Why Not Every Breach Is a Crime The second pillar of the modern law on section 145 is R v Zora, a 2020 decision that changed how breach charges are actually proven. Chaycen Zora had been granted bail on drug charges, subject to a strict curfew and a condition requiring him to come to his door within five minutes whenever police or his bail supervisor checked on him. On two occasions, officers came to his residence late at night and he failed to answer. He was charged under section 145(3), and argued that from his bedroom it had been difficult, if not impossible, to hear anyone at the door. [2] At trial, and again on appeal to the British Columbia Court of Appeal, the courts held that an objective standard applied — meaning Zora could be convicted if a reasonable person in his position ought to have known they were breaching a condition, regardless of what he actually knew or intended. The Supreme Court disagreed. It ruled unanimously that section 145(3) requires the Crown to prove subjective fault: that the accused knowingly or recklessly failed to comply with their condition, not merely that a reasonable person would have done things differently. [2] The Court's reasoning went beyond the technical question of mens rea. Justice Martin, writing for the Court, noted that a person can face imprisonment for breaching a bail condition even if they are never ultimately convicted of any of the crimes for which they were initially charged, and pointed out that in many cases the conduct being punished would be perfectly lawful if not for the specific condition imposed — meaning there is often no victim and no direct harm involved. [2] That framing helps explain why Zora mattered well beyond Mr. Zora's own case. It signalled that the Supreme Court saw the section 145 machinery as one that had, in practice, been sweeping up a great deal of low-level, non-culpable conduct — missed doorbells, misunderstood curfews, minor lapses — and treating it the same as deliberate defiance of a court order. By requiring proof of actual knowledge or recklessness, the Court narrowed the gap between technical non-compliance and criminal liability, without eliminating breach charges altogether. It also used the decision to more broadly criticize the routine overuse of restrictive, hard-to-follow bail conditions, urging release authorities to impose only what is truly necessary — a theme that echoed Antic three years earlier. "Without Lawful Excuse": The Words That Do a Lot of Work Section 145 does not criminalize every failure to comply. Several of its subsections apply only where the person failed to follow a condition "without lawful excuse." That phrase recognizes that circumstances can make compliance genuinely impossible or unreasonable — a medical emergency that prevents someone from reporting on time, for example, or an event genuinely outside their control. Whether a particular excuse will succeed depends heavily on the specific subsection charged and the facts of the case, but the language itself is a signal that Parliament did not intend section 145 to operate as a strict liability trap. [1] Multiple Charges From One Incident Because each condition in a release order is treated as a distinct legal obligation, a single incident can generate several separate charges. Someone who breaks both a curfew and a no-contact condition on the same night, for instance, is not committing one breach — they are committing two, each prosecuted and recorded separately. This can matter significantly at sentencing and in how an accused's record comes to be viewed by future bail courts, since a pattern of multiple, stacked breach charges can make it considerably harder to be released a second time. [1] Why This Matters Beyond the Courtroom The practical stakes of section 145 extend well past the individual charge itself. A breach allegation can trigger a fresh arrest, a bail revocation hearing, and — particularly where the breach involves an allegation of new criminal conduct — a real risk of pre-trial detention on both the original and the new matter. The Department of Justice has identified non-compliance with bail conditions as a factor that can influence how future release decisions are made within the system, meaning a breach on one file can follow a person into how they are treated on another. [4] This is also where public misunderstanding tends to creep in. It is a common assumption that a breach charge is minor — a technicality, a slap on the wrist. The statistics tell a more complicated story. Administration of justice offences, the broader category that includes section 145 breaches along with failures to appear and breaches of probation, have historically accounted for roughly one in five completed cases in adult criminal court, and government cost estimates have put the annual system-wide cost of these offences — policing, prosecution, legal aid, courts, and corrections — in the hundreds of millions of dollars. Federal officials and provincial justice ministers have flagged the volume of these charges as a policy concern in its own right, distinct from the seriousness of any individual case, and some jurisdictions have reported that these offences make up a disproportionately large share of their overall criminal caseload. There is also a recognized pattern in which administration of justice charges fall more heavily on marginalized and remote communities, where practical barriers — distance from a courthouse, lack of transportation, unstable housing — can make strict compliance with reporting or curfew conditions genuinely difficult, independent of any intention to defy the court. [1][4] A Shifting Legislative Backdrop Section 145 does not exist in isolation from the broader bail system, which has itself been the subject of active legislative attention in recent years. In December 2023, Parliament passed Bill C-48, which expanded the circumstances in which an accused person bears a reverse onus at a bail hearing — meaning the accused, rather than the Crown, must justify why they should be released rather than detained. The changes were aimed at repeat violent offending involving weapons and firearms, and at intimate partner violence cases involving a prior conviction or discharge for a similar offence. The legislation followed sustained pressure from provincial and territorial governments and police services concerned about repeat offending among people released on conditions. The significance of this reform for section 145 is indirect but real: as bail becomes more heavily conditioned and more people are released with an expanded set of restrictions attached, the pool of conditions available to be breached grows as well. Advocacy groups and some academics have raised concerns that reforms focused on tightening bail can, without careful implementation, increase the number of administration of justice charges rather than reduce serious reoffending — a tension that reflects the same balance the Supreme Court wrestled with in Antic and Zora. Common Misconceptions A few misunderstandings recur often enough to be worth addressing directly. First, many people assume that being cleared of, or having withdrawn, the original charge automatically clears a related breach charge — it does not; the two are legally independent. Second, there is a tendency to assume that any missed condition automatically results in a conviction; since Zora, the Crown must prove the person knew they were breaching the condition, or was reckless about whether they were. Third, breach charges are sometimes dismissed publicly as trivial paperwork offences, when in practice they can result in detention, additional restrictions, and a criminal record with real consequences for employment, immigration status, and future interactions with the justice system. Where the Law Stands Section 145 continues to enforce a basic proposition: court orders carry legal weight of their own, separate from whatever led to them being made. At the same time, the Supreme Court's decisions in Antic and Zora have made clear that this weight is not unlimited. Conditions must be reasonable and necessary in the first place, and proving a breach requires more than showing that a condition was not met — it requires showing that the person knew, or was reckless as to whether, they were failing to comply. The law in this area continues to develop, both through the courts and through Parliament. Questions remain about how bail reform legislation like Bill C-48 will interact with the volume of administration of justice charges going forward, and how consistently the fault standard set out in Zora is being applied at the trial level across the country. What is settled, for now, is the basic architecture: court orders are meant to be followed, breaches are treated as offences against the administration of justice in their own right, and Canadian law continues to draw a line between simple non-compliance and criminal fault. References [1] Canada, Criminal Code, RSC 1985, c C-46, s 145. https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/c-46/section-145.html [2] R v Zora, 2020 SCC 14, [2020] 2 SCR 3, Supreme Court of Canada. https://www.canlii.org/en/ca/scc/doc/2020/2020scc14/2020scc14.html [3] R v Antic, 2017 SCC 27, [2017] 1 SCR 509, Supreme Court of Canada. https://www.canlii.org/en/ca/scc/doc/2017/2017scc27/2017scc27.html [4] Department of Justice Canada, "The Bail Process in Canada," Government of Canada. https://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/cj-jp/bail-caution/index.html [5] Library of Parliament, "Legislative Summary of Bill C-48: An Act to amend the Criminal Code (bail reform)," 2023. https://lop.parl.ca/sites/PublicWebsite/default/en_CA/ResearchPublications/LegislativeSummaries/441C48E [6] Statistics Canada, "Trends in offences against the administration of justice, 2014," The Daily. https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/daily-quotidien/151015/dq151015c-eng.htm

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: August 1, 2026 Photo by Héctor Berganza You Got a Court Summons. Now What? What Happens If You Actually Ignore It An envelope shows up. Inside is a document with a court file number, a date, and language that sounds like it was written to intimidate you. Maybe it's a summons. Maybe it's an appearance notice, or a subpoena, or, worse, notice of a bench warrant already issued in your name. Most people's first instinct is to assume it can wait. It can't. These documents are not friendly reminders. They are legal instruments backed by the Criminal Code, provincial offences law, or a tribunal's own statute, and ignoring one does not make the underlying problem disappear. It adds a second, separate problem on top of it. [1][3] What Did You Actually Receive? Not every court document means the same thing, and mixing them up is where most of the confusion starts. A summons orders you to appear in court on a specific date. It can arise in a criminal, provincial offence, or civil matter, and it usually means you were not considered dangerous or flight-prone enough to be arrested. An appearance notice is issued by police directly, often right after an arrest. It has the same practical effect as a summons: show up, or face a new charge. [2] A witness summons or subpoena has nothing to do with being accused of anything. It compels you to show up and testify, or hand over documents, because your evidence matters to someone else's case. [3][6] A bench warrant is different from all three. A judge issues it after you've already missed a court date. It authorizes your arrest. [1][7] One of these is a request to show up. The other three assume you already didn't. Why Does the Law Take a Piece of Paper This Seriously? Because the entire system for compelling someone's attendance in court, from a polite summons to a warrant for arrest, comes from one part of the Criminal Code: Part XVI, sections 493 to 529.5. [1] Parliament built an escalating ladder. A summons is the bottom rung. A bench warrant is the top. Each rung exists so that police and courts have an option short of arrest, provided people actually respond when asked. Provinces run the same ladder for their own matters, and tribunals run a smaller version of it too. In Ontario, section 12 of the Statutory Powers Procedure Act lets a tribunal summon a witness the same way a court can. [3] Different forum, same idea: once the document is issued, it is enforceable, whether or not you agree the underlying case has merit. So What Happens If You Just... Don't? This is where most of the damage happens, and it has nothing to do with how serious the original charge was. Missing a court date for a criminal summons or appearance notice is its own offence under section 145 of the Criminal Code, separate from whatever you were originally facing. [2] A minor traffic matter and a serious criminal charge can both turn into a failure-to-attend charge if you simply don't show up. The law does not grade on a curve here. Ignore a witness summons and the party who needed your testimony can ask the court to compel you anyway, at that point with the court's patience already spent. [3][6] Miss a court date entirely, and a judge can issue a bench warrant on the spot. [1] That warrant does not expire on its own. It sits there. Does a Bench Warrant Mean Police Are Out Looking for You? Usually, no. And this is probably the single biggest misconception about the whole process. In most cases, nobody is actively hunting you down. What actually happens is quieter and, in some ways, worse: the warrant just sits in the system, waiting. It can surface at a border crossing, during a routine traffic stop, or the next time you have any contact with police, sometimes years later, at the worst possible moment. It's also not the end of the road. Depending on the circumstances, particularly if you missed court because of illness or an emergency, a lawyer or duty counsel can sometimes get a bench warrant rescinded before it ever leads to an arrest. [7] What does not work is calling the courthouse to explain yourself informally. Only a formal step recognized by the court actually resolves it. What Should You Actually Do With It? The exact procedure depends on the jurisdiction and the type of matter, but the general sequence looks the same almost everywhere. Read the document in full and confirm the court or tribunal, the date, time, location, and the reason it was issued. Note whether it is criminal, provincial offence, civil, or tribunal-related, since the consequences of non-compliance differ. Contact Legal Aid Ontario, duty counsel, or a lawyer or paralegal if the matter is unclear or the stakes are significant. Gather any documents, identification, or records the notice requires. Confirm whether the appearance is in person or remote, and follow the applicable court's procedure for each. The Ontario Court of Justice publishes current guidance on virtual and in-person criminal appearances [5], and the Ontario Courts Public Portal lets you search existing case information for matters in the Toronto region, with the Justice Services Online portal still covering other regions. [8] If a bench warrant is the issue, Steps to Justice, a public legal education resource from Community Legal Education Ontario, lays out the general process for trying to get it rescinded, including the role duty counsel plays. [7] If it's a tribunal summons, Tribunals Ontario's own practice direction explains how those are requested, served, and enforced, which is a different process than a court summons entirely. [6] Why This Keeps Coming Up Now Court systems across Canada have leaned hard into remote and virtual appearances over the past few years. That's changed how notices get served and how appearances get confirmed. It has not changed the underlying legal obligation. [4][8] At the same time, several provinces have quietly moved their case search and filing systems onto new online portals. The link someone used two years ago may not be the right one anymore. Old habits meeting new systems is exactly the gap where these misunderstandings live. Resources for All Canadian Provinces and Territories Ontario: https://www.ontario.ca/page/courts-and-court-services Quebec: https://www.quebec.ca/en/justice-and-civil-status British Columbia: https://www2.gov.bc.ca/gov/content/justice/criminal-justice/bcs-criminal-justice-system/understanding-criminal-justice/how-works/court-hearings/preparing-for-court Alberta: https://albertacourts.ca/cj/resources/going-to-court Manitoba: https://www.manitobacourts.mb.ca/ Saskatchewan: https://www.saskatchewan.ca/residents/justice-crime-and-the-law/courts-and-sentencing Nova Scotia: https://www.courts.ns.ca/ New Brunswick: https://www.courtsnb-coursnb.ca/ Prince Edward Island: https://www.courts.pe.ca/ Newfoundland & Labrador: https://www.court.nl.ca/provincial/ Yukon: https://www.yukoncourts.ca/ Northwest Territories: https://www.nwtcourts.ca/ Nunavut: https://www.nunavutcourts.ca/ A court summons, appearance notice, witness subpoena, or bench warrant each marks a different point in a legal process, but all are grounded in statutory authority, whether the Criminal Code, provincial offences legislation, or a tribunal's own procedural rules, and each imposes obligations that exist independently of the outcome of the underlying matter. The consequences of non-compliance, an additional criminal charge, an arrest, or an enforcement application, apply regardless of the perceived seriousness of the original issue. Official provincial and territorial court resources, along with public legal education organizations, set out the procedures that apply in each jurisdiction. References [1] Criminal Code, RSC 1985, c C-46, Part XVI – Compelling Appearance of Accused Before a Justice and Interim Release, Justice Laws Website.https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/c-46/page-132.html [2] Criminal Code, RSC 1985, c C-46, s 145 – Failure to Attend Court, Justice Laws Website.https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/c-46/section-145.html [3] Statutory Powers Procedure Act, RSO 1990, c S.22, s 12, Ontario.ca.https://www.ontario.ca/laws/statute/90s22 [4] Ontario Government, Courts and Court Services.https://www.ontario.ca/page/courts-and-court-services [5] Ontario Court of Justice, Attending Criminal Court.https://www.ontariocourts.ca/ocj/ [6] Tribunals Ontario, Practice Direction – Issuing a Summons.https://tribunalsontario.ca/documents/oset/Practice%20Directions%20-%20Issuing%20a%20Summons.html [7] Steps to Justice (CLEO), Try to Get the Warrant Cancelled.https://stepstojustice.ca/steps/criminal-law/2-try-get-warrant-cancelled [8] Ontario Government, Search for Court Cases Online.https://www.ontario.ca/page/search-court-cases-online [9] Government of Quebec, Justice and Civil Status.https://www.quebec.ca/en/justice-and-civil-status [10] Government of British Columbia, Preparing for Court.https://www2.gov.bc.ca/gov/content/justice/criminal-justice/bcs-criminal-justice-system/understanding-criminal-justice/how-works/court-hearings/preparing-for-court [11] Alberta Courts, Going to Court.https://albertacourts.ca/cj/resources/going-to-court [12] Manitoba Courts.https://www.manitobacourts.mb.ca/ [13] Government of Saskatchewan, Courts and Sentencing.https://www.saskatchewan.ca/residents/justice-crime-and-the-law/courts-and-sentencing [14] Nova Scotia Courts.https://www.courts.ns.ca/ [15] New Brunswick Courts.https://www.courtsnb-coursnb.ca/ [16] Prince Edward Island Courts.https://www.courts.pe.ca/ [17] Newfoundland & Labrador Provincial Court.https://www.court.nl.ca/provincial/ [18] Yukon Courts.https://www.yukoncourts.ca/ [19] Northwest Territories Courts.https://www.nwtcourts.ca/ [20] Nunavut Courts.https://www.nunavutcourts.ca/

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: July 20, 2026 Stories about "squatters' rights" often suggest that a stranger can enter an empty home, remain there for a short time and eventually become its legal owner. That is largely a myth. Canada does not have one national law granting ownership rights to squatters. Property law is primarily governed by the provinces and territories, and the rules differ across the country. A person who enters or remains on land without permission does not automatically gain ownership. In limited circumstances, however, a person who has possessed land for a long period may attempt to establish ownership through a legal doctrine known as adverse possession. Adverse possession is real, but it is narrow, difficult to prove and increasingly restricted by modern land-registration systems. What Is a Squatter? A squatter is a person who occupies land or a building without the legal owner's permission and without a valid lease, ownership interest or other lawful right to remain there. The term may describe someone who: moves into an abandoned building; occupies vacant land; remains after permission to use property has ended; builds a fence or structure over a property boundary; or treats part of a neighbouring property as their own. Not every disagreement about possession involves a squatter. A tenant who remains after a lease ends, a former spouse who continues living in a family home and a person involved in an ownership dispute may have legal rights that must be determined under other laws. What Is Adverse Possession? Adverse possession is a legal doctrine under which someone who is not the registered owner may, in limited circumstances, acquire an ownership interest by possessing land for the required period. The possession must generally be open, continuous, exclusive and inconsistent with the registered owner's possession. In simple terms, the person must have treated the land as an owner would, while excluding others—including the legal owner—from using it. Merely entering land, occasionally cutting the grass or storing property on it is usually not enough. Ontario legislation expressly provides that a person is not considered to be in possession merely because they entered the land. [1] Myth: A Squatter Becomes an Owner After a Few Weeks There is no Canadian rule under which a person becomes the owner of a house simply by staying there for 30 days. The confusion may come from laws that protect tenants from being removed without proper procedures. Those protections do not normally transfer ownership of the property. A person may also acquire procedural rights during a dispute. For example, a property owner may need a court order or another legally authorized process to recover possession. The need to follow that process does not mean the occupant owns the property. Possession and ownership are separate legal concepts. Myth: Receiving Mail Establishes Ownership Receiving mail at an address does not create ownership. Mail, identification documents or utility accounts may be used as evidence that a person occupied a property. However, they do not prove that the person purchased the property, received title or satisfied the legal requirements for adverse possession. Ownership of land is normally established through the provincial land-registration system. Myth: Paying Property Taxes Makes Someone the Owner Paying property taxes may be evidence that a person treated land as their own, but it does not automatically transfer ownership. A successful adverse-possession claim usually requires proof of the nature, duration and exclusivity of possession. One act, such as paying a tax bill or maintaining a fence, is not normally enough by itself. A Widely Covered Example: The Guelph "Cash for Keys" Case In 2023, Ryan Bedrosian, a first-time homebuyer in Guelph, Ontario, bought a house through a bank's power-of-sale process after the previous owner died and the mortgage went unpaid. When he went to pick up the keys, he learned there weren't any — the house was occupied by several people who had moved in while the bank controlled the property. Bedrosian later said he hadn't worried much going in, figuring the fixer-upper couldn't be that bad. [8] The story, first reported by GuelphToday, was picked up and republished by more than a dozen affiliated Ontario community news sites over the following year, making it one of the more widely circulated Canadian "squatter" stories of 2024 — and a useful real-world illustration of how the popular idea of squatters' rights differs from the narrow legal doctrine described above. Nothing in Bedrosian's case turned on adverse possession. The occupants never claimed ownership of the house, and no court was ever asked to decide who held title. Instead, once the occupants asserted they were living there, police told Bedrosian the property had to go through the Landlord and Tenant Board — the same tribunal that resolves disputes between landlords and tenants — because removing people who claim residency generally requires that formal process rather than a homeowner simply changing the locks. Bedrosian, who said he never collected a dollar in rent from anyone in the house, ultimately resolved the matter not through a ruling on ownership but through negotiated settlements: three occupants left after being paid $3,000 each, and a fourth held out for $4,000. By his own accounting, the ordeal cost him roughly $65,000 in settlements, unpaid utilities, property taxes on a home he couldn't access, and legal fees — on top of the renovation he still hadn't been able to start. Asked to sum up the experience, he said simply, "It's wild." [9] The case is a useful reminder of what "squatters' rights" actually tends to mean in practice in Canada: not a legal path to ownership, but a slow, costly and procedurally rigid process for recovering possession from people who assert some right to stay. The financial pain was real. The loss of ownership was never on the table. Permission Defeats an Adverse-Possession Claim Possession is not adverse when the legal owner gave permission for the property to be used. A tenant, guest, caretaker or neighbour who uses land with permission is not generally possessing it against the owner. For example, allowing a neighbour to use part of a driveway does not ordinarily give the neighbour ownership of that area. The neighbour's use began with consent and remains subject to that consent. A written agreement, licence or acknowledgment of ownership may become important evidence if a dispute develops. What Must Be Proven? The exact legal test depends on the province and the applicable legislation. Generally, a claimant must establish factual possession and an intention to possess the land for their own benefit. Relevant evidence may include: fencing the land; controlling access; excluding other people; constructing or maintaining buildings; farming or improving the land; using the property continuously; paying expenses connected to the property; and acting publicly as though the property belonged to the claimant. The possession usually must continue without meaningful interruption for the full statutory period. Secret, occasional or shared use is unlikely to satisfy the test. The Supreme Court of Canada's Decision in Nelson v. Mowatt The Supreme Court of Canada considered adverse possession in Nelson (City) v. Mowatt, a 2017 case involving land in British Columbia. [2] The dispute concerned a parcel beside property owned by the Mowatt family. The family and their predecessors claimed to have occupied the disputed lot continuously since around 1909, through a succession of three different families. The City of Nelson was the registered owner and sought a declaration that the Mowatts had no claim to the land. A chambers judge dismissed the Mowatts' claim after finding a roughly four-year gap in the evidence of continuous possession, between 1916 and 1920. The British Columbia Court of Appeal reversed that finding and ruled for the Mowatts, holding that the evidence did establish continuous possession and that British Columbia law did not require the Mowatts to prove their use was "inconsistent" with the City's intended use of the land — a stricter requirement some earlier cases had applied. The Supreme Court disagreed with the Court of Appeal on both points that mattered to the result. It confirmed, as a matter of legal principle, that adverse possession in British Columbia requires only proof of factual possession and an intention to possess — not proof that the claimant's use was inconsistent with the registered owner's own plans for the land. But on the facts, the Court held that appellate courts should not overturn a trial judge's findings of fact absent a clear and overriding error, and that the chambers judge's finding of a gap in continuous possession was reasonably available on the evidence. The Supreme Court therefore allowed the City's appeal and restored the original decision dismissing the Mowatts' claim. The Mowatts did not acquire the land. The decision matters for two distinct reasons. On the law, it clarified that claimants elsewhere in Canada following similar common-law traditions do not necessarily need to prove their use was inconsistent with the true owner's intentions — a question that had unsettled adverse-possession cases in Ontario and other provinces for decades. On the facts, the outcome is a reminder that clarifying the legal test in a claimant's favour is not the same as winning the case: the Mowatts still lost, because they could not bridge a multi-year gap in the historical evidence of possession. The Court also noted that provincial legislation and land-title systems may modify or eliminate the doctrine altogether, which is exactly what several provinces have since done. Ontario: Adverse Possession Still Exists, but Only in Limited Cases Ontario's Real Property Limitations Act generally provides a ten-year limitation period for an owner to bring an action to recover land after the right of action has accrued. [1] The legislation also provides that an owner's right may be extinguished after the applicable limitation period has expired. However, Ontario's land-registration system significantly limits modern adverse-possession claims. Ontario has two historical systems of land registration: the Registry system; and the Land Titles system. Most Ontario property has been converted into the Land Titles system. Under the Land Titles Act, registered title is generally protected against adverse possession that begins after the property enters the Land Titles system. [3] As a result, a modern claim cannot usually be created simply by occupying Land Titles property for ten years. Some claims remain possible where the required period of adverse possession was completed before the land was converted to Land Titles. These are sometimes called legacy claims. The dates and registration history of the particular property are therefore critical. Ontario Boundary Disputes Many Ontario adverse-possession cases do not involve someone moving into an abandoned house. They involve small strips of land between neighbouring properties. Examples include: a fence built beyond the surveyed boundary; a driveway extending onto neighbouring land; a garage partly constructed over a property line; a garden maintained for decades; or access to a cottage or rural property. A long-standing fence does not necessarily establish the legal boundary. The claimant must still prove that the legal requirements were satisfied for the necessary period and before any relevant Land Titles conversion date. British Columbia British Columbia has effectively eliminated new adverse-possession claims, and it did so on a province-wide basis rather than property by property. Section 28 of the Limitation Act provides that a person cannot acquire land through adverse possession going forward, but preserves any right or title that was already acquired by adverse possession before July 1, 1975 — the date the predecessor legislation ending the doctrine first came into force. [4] A claimant today must therefore show that their claim was already legally complete before that date; ongoing or more recent occupation, however long, cannot create a new claim. The Land Title Act separately protects registered ownership once title has been recorded in the land title system, reinforcing that a registered owner's title cannot be displaced by a squatter's occupation of registered land. [5] The Supreme Court's decision in Nelson v. Mowatt arose from British Columbia and turned on exactly this kind of historical claim — the Mowatts needed to show their possession predated the relevant cutoff dates, and ultimately could not. Alberta Alberta abolished the ability to acquire private land through adverse possession effective December 15, 2022, under the Property Rights Statutes Amendment Act, 2022. [6] The Act amended the Law of Property Act, the Land Titles Act and the Limitations Act so that a person can no longer obtain ownership merely by occupying another person's land for the former ten-year limitation period, and it removed the limitation period that previously required a registered owner to reclaim possession within ten years. Claims that had already been commenced before the Act came into force may still proceed under the former rules. The amendments also addressed situations involving lasting improvements mistakenly placed on neighbouring land, such as a building or fence constructed across a boundary, giving courts discretion to order removal, an easement, or compensation instead. This change means Alberta no longer recognizes the traditional form of "squatters' rights" through adverse possession, bringing it in line with several other provinces that have taken similar steps. Quebec Quebec uses a civil-law system rather than the common-law system used in most other Canadian provinces. The equivalent concept is known as acquisitive prescription. Under the Civil Code of Québec, a person who possesses an immovable as an owner may acquire ownership through prescription after the legally required period, generally ten years. A court judgment is normally required to establish the right. [7] An immovable generally means land or a building. Possession must meet the requirements of the Civil Code. It must be peaceful, continuous, public and unequivocal. This is not automatic ownership for occupying an empty property. A claimant must establish the legal requirements and obtain recognition of the claimed right. Other Provinces and Territories The law differs across Canada. Some jurisdictions have largely eliminated adverse-possession claims for registered land. Others preserve the doctrine in limited circumstances, particularly for older property, unregistered land or claims that arose before land was brought into a modern registration system. Limitation periods and evidentiary requirements also vary. For that reason, statements such as "squatters' rights exist in Canada" or "Canada abolished squatters' rights" are both too broad. The correct answer depends on: the province or territory; the type of land-registration system; the property's registration history; when the alleged possession began; whether the owner gave permission; whether possession was continuous and exclusive; and whether legislation protects the registered title. Adverse Possession Is Not the Same as Trespassing Trespassing generally means entering or remaining on property without permission or lawful authority. A trespasser does not gain ownership simply by entering the property. Adverse possession is a civil property claim requiring long-term possession and proof of specific legal elements. Trespassing may result in removal, civil liability, fines or other legal consequences, depending on the applicable provincial law and the conduct involved. The fact that someone intends to claim adverse possession does not provide immediate permission to occupy land. Adverse Possession Is Not the Same as Tenancy A tenant occupies property under a rental agreement with a landlord. The agreement may be written, verbal or implied by the parties' conduct. Residential tenants are protected by provincial tenancy laws, which commonly require landlords to follow a formal process before ending a tenancy or enforcing an eviction. Those protections do not make the tenant an owner. A person who stops paying rent does not usually become a squatter in the adverse-possession sense. Their rights and obligations are generally determined under landlord-and-tenant legislation. Can Someone Claim Government Land? Claims involving Crown, municipal or other public land may be subject to different rules, longer limitation periods or complete statutory protection. Ontario's Real Property Limitations Act, for example, provides a significantly longer limitation period for certain Crown land and contains specific exceptions. [1] Public roads, shorelines, parks, reserves and other protected lands may also be governed by specialized legislation. Can a Property Owner Remove a Squatter Immediately? A registered owner does not necessarily have the legal right to use force or personally remove an occupant. The proper procedure depends on the nature of the occupancy. A dispute may involve: trespass legislation; residential tenancy legislation; a court application for possession; a police investigation; enforcement by a sheriff; or a dispute about actual ownership. Police may treat a matter as civil where the facts are unclear or where the occupant claims to be a tenant. A fabricated lease or fraudulent ownership document may raise separate legal issues. Procedural protection does not prove ownership. It means the dispute must be resolved through the lawful process. Why These Claims Are Difficult to Prove Adverse-possession cases are highly fact-specific. A claimant may need decades-old evidence showing exactly how the land was used and whether the registered owner was excluded, as the Mowatts discovered when a single multi-year gap in the historical record was enough to defeat a claim built on more than a century of family occupation. Evidence may include: historical surveys; aerial photographs; property records; tax records; old agreements; photographs; witness testimony; fence and building locations; and the property's registration and conversion history. A claimant's use may fail because it was occasional, shared, interrupted or permitted by the owner. A claim may also fail because the land was registered under a system that prevents new adverse-possession rights from arising. Why the Myth Persists The phrase "squatters' rights" is dramatic, simple and misleading. Social-media stories often confuse several different issues: ownership; possession; tenancy rights; eviction procedures; trespassing laws; adverse possession; and fraudulent occupation. A person may be difficult to remove without having any valid ownership claim. Courts require lawful procedures because property disputes cannot be decided through threats, force or assumptions. That procedural protection is not a reward for trespassing. It is part of the legal system's requirement that competing claims be established through evidence and due process. Adverse possession remains part of Canadian property law in limited circumstances, but it does not allow someone to casually take ownership of a home by moving in. Modern land-title systems have restricted or abolished many traditional claims, while older boundary and registration disputes continue to reach the courts. The reality is far less sensational than the myth: occupation alone does not equal ownership, and the result depends on provincial legislation, registration history and strict proof of long-term possession. References [1] Real Property Limitations Act, R.S.O. 1990, c. L.15, Ontario Legislature: https://www.ontario.ca/laws/statute/90l15 [2] Nelson (City) v. Mowatt, 2017 SCC 8, [2017] 1 S.C.R. 138, Supreme Court of Canada: https://www.canlii.org/en/ca/scc/doc/2017/2017scc8/2017scc8.html [3] Land Titles Act, R.S.O. 1990, c. L.5, Ontario Legislature: https://www.ontario.ca/laws/statute/90l05 [4] Limitation Act, R.S.B.C. 2012, c. 13, s. 28, British Columbia Legislature, preserving rights to land acquired by adverse possession before July 1, 1975: https://www.bclaws.gov.bc.ca/civix/document/id/consol21/consol21/00_96266_01 [5] Land Title Act, R.S.B.C. 1996, c. 250, British Columbia Legislature: https://www.bclaws.gov.bc.ca/civix/document/id/complete/statreg/96250_00 [6] Property Rights Statutes Amendment Act, 2022, S.A. 2022, c. 23, Alberta Legislature, in force December 15, 2022: https://www.assembly.ab.ca/assembly-business/bills/bill?billinfoid=11983&from=bills [7] Civil Code of Québec, CQLR c. CCQ-1991, particularly articles 921–933 and 2910–2920 concerning possession and acquisitive prescription: https://www.legisquebec.gouv.qc.ca/en/document/cs/CCQ-1991 [8] Richard Vivian, "Alleged squatters prevent first-time homeowner from moving in," GuelphToday, June 7, 2024: https://www.guelphtoday.com/local-news/alleged-squatters-prevent-first-time-homeowner-from-moving-in-8737037 [9] "Nearly a year later, first-time Guelph homebuyer pays alleged squatters to leave," GuelphToday, July 2, 2024: https://www.guelphtoday.com/local-news/nearly-a-year-later-first-time-guelph-homebuyer-pays-alleged-squatters-to-leave-9152678

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: July 13, 2026 A common-law couple can share a home, raise children and file taxes together for twenty years, and still leave one partner with no automatic legal claim to a cent of the other's estate the day after death. That outcome surprises many Ontarians, and it has become more visible in recent years as the province's rules on marriage, separation and estates have been rewritten piece by piece since 2022. When someone dies without a valid Will in Ontario, their property does not automatically go to the person they were closest to. Instead, Ontario law determines who may manage the estate and which relatives are entitled to inherit. The rules are mainly found in Ontario's Succession Law Reform Act. These rules create a standard order of inheritance, but they do not consider the deceased person's personal relationships, verbal promises or individual wishes. [1] Terms Explained Deceased The deceased is the person who has died. Estate An estate generally consists of the money, property and other assets that legally belonged to the deceased at the time of death. An estate may include: money in bank accounts; a house or other real estate; vehicles; investments; personal belongings; money owed to the deceased; and certain business interests. The estate may also be responsible for debts, taxes, funeral expenses and estate administration costs. Beneficiary A beneficiary is a person or organization that receives money or property after someone dies. When there is a Will, the Will usually identifies the beneficiaries. When there is no Will, Ontario law determines who the beneficiaries are. A person does not become a beneficiary merely because they were close to the deceased, cared for the deceased or were verbally promised an inheritance. Will A Will is a legal document that states how a person wants certain property distributed after death. It commonly identifies an executor, beneficiaries and the gifts that each beneficiary is to receive. Executor and Estate Trustee An executor is the person named in a Will to manage the estate. When there is no Will, there is no named executor. A person may instead apply to the Superior Court of Justice for authority to act as the estate trustee without a Will, a role governed by the Estates Act. [7] This person performs many of the same duties as an executor. Intestate A person dies intestate when they die without a valid Will governing the distribution of their estate. A person may also die partly intestate if a Will deals with some property but does not properly distribute the remainder. Spouse For Ontario's intestacy rules, the word spouse generally refers to a person who was legally married to the deceased. This distinction is important because a common-law partner is not treated the same as a legally married spouse under Ontario's automatic intestacy rules. Common-Law Partner A common-law partner is generally someone who lived with the deceased in a marriage-like relationship without being legally married. Different laws use different definitions of a common-law relationship. For example, Ontario family-support legislation generally recognizes unmarried partners who lived together continuously for at least three years, or who had a relationship of some permanence and were the parents of a child. [2] However, meeting a common-law definition for one legal purpose does not necessarily provide the same rights for another purpose. Most importantly, a common-law partner does not automatically inherit under Ontario's intestacy provisions. Descendant A descendant is a person who comes from the deceased's direct family line. This may include a child, grandchild or great-grandchild. A stepchild who was never legally adopted is not ordinarily treated as the deceased's child under the intestacy rules. Which Property Is Distributed Under the Intestacy Rules? Not every asset connected to the deceased necessarily becomes part of the estate. Some property may pass directly to another person outside the estate. Examples may include: life insurance with a named beneficiary; an RRSP, RRIF or TFSA with a valid beneficiary designation; pension benefits payable to a named person; property held in a trust; and property jointly owned with another person where a right of survivorship applies. A named beneficiary is a person specifically identified on an account, policy or plan to receive that asset after the owner dies. A right of survivorship generally means that when one joint owner dies, the surviving joint owner becomes the owner of the property. Joint ownership does not always settle the issue. The legal result may depend on how the property was purchased, why the other person was added as an owner and whether the surviving owner was intended to receive the property beneficially. Property that passes directly to another person is generally not divided under the intestacy rules. The remaining estate property is distributed according to the Succession Law Reform Act. Who Manages an Estate When There Is No Will? Without a Will, no one automatically has the authority of an executor. A person may have to apply to the Superior Court of Justice for a Certificate of Appointment of Estate Trustee Without a Will. The certificate confirms the applicant's legal authority to administer the estate. [3] A surviving spouse or another close relative will often apply, but being the closest relative does not automatically provide authority to deal with every estate asset. The court application may require information about: the deceased; the value of the estate; the people entitled to inherit; the applicant's relationship to the deceased; and any other person who has an equal or greater right to apply. Depending on the circumstances, the court may also require the applicant to provide an administration bond or obtain the consent of other beneficiaries. Once appointed, the estate trustee is responsible for matters such as: locating and protecting estate assets; identifying beneficiaries; determining the deceased's debts; dealing with creditors; filing required tax returns; paying valid expenses and taxes; maintaining proper financial records; and distributing the remaining estate according to Ontario law. The estate trustee does not own the estate property personally. The property is administered for the benefit of the estate and its lawful beneficiaries. Who Inherits When There Is a Married Spouse but No Children? If the deceased was legally married and had no surviving descendants, the surviving spouse generally receives the entire estate. [1] This applies to the portion of the estate governed by the intestacy rules. It does not necessarily include property that already passed outside the estate through joint ownership or a beneficiary designation. Ontario law also contains rules that may prevent a married spouse from inheriting on an intestacy where the spouses were separated before the death and the statutory separation conditions are met. The legal effect depends on the facts and the requirements contained in the legislation, discussed further below. [1] Who Inherits When There Is a Married Spouse and Children? When the deceased leaves a legally married spouse and one or more descendants, the surviving spouse is generally entitled to receive a preferential share first. The preferential share is a fixed amount established by Ontario regulation. It is currently $350,000 for deaths occurring on or after March 1, 2021. [4] The calculation is made from the estate remaining after funeral expenses, debts and other proper estate expenses have been addressed. Estate Worth $350,000 or Less If the net estate is worth no more than the preferential share, the surviving married spouse generally receives the entire estate. The children do not receive a portion under the intestacy formula because there is no remaining balance after the spouse's preferential share. Estate Worth More Than $350,000 If the net estate exceeds $350,000, the spouse receives the preferential share first. The balance is then divided between the spouse and the deceased's descendants. If the deceased leaves a spouse and one child: the spouse receives the $350,000 preferential share; the remaining balance is divided equally between the spouse and the child. If the deceased leaves a spouse and two or more children: the spouse receives the $350,000 preferential share; the spouse receives one-third of the remaining balance; the children divide the other two-thirds. Example: Spouse and One Child Suppose the net estate is worth $550,000. The spouse receives the first $350,000. That leaves $200,000. The remaining $200,000 is divided equally: spouse: an additional $100,000; child: $100,000. The spouse receives a total of $450,000, while the child receives $100,000. Example: Spouse and Two Children Suppose the net estate is worth $650,000. The spouse receives the first $350,000. That leaves $300,000. The remaining $300,000 is divided as follows: spouse: one-third, or $100,000; children: two-thirds, or $200,000. If there are two children, each child receives $100,000. The spouse receives a total of $450,000. These examples are simplified. The actual estate value may depend on debts, taxes, ownership arrangements, beneficiary designations and other legal issues. What Happens If a Child Died Before the Parent? If a child of the deceased died earlier but left their own descendants, those descendants may inherit the share that their parent would have received. For example, suppose the deceased had two children, but one child died before the deceased. If that child left two children of their own, those grandchildren may divide their deceased parent's share. This form of distribution allows a deceased child's branch of the family to remain represented in the inheritance. Do Common-Law Partners Automatically Inherit? No. In Ontario, an unmarried common-law partner does not automatically receive a share of the estate under the intestacy provisions of the Succession Law Reform Act. This remains true even when the couple: lived together for many years; had children together; shared expenses; described each other as spouses; or believed they had the same inheritance rights as a married couple. The intestacy provisions use a narrower meaning of spouse that generally requires a legal marriage. A surviving common-law partner may have other possible legal rights depending on the circumstances. For example, the partner may be: a named beneficiary of an insurance policy or registered account; a surviving joint owner of property; entitled to their own property; eligible to bring a dependant-support claim; or able to assert another recognized property claim, such as unjust enrichment or constructive trust. These are separate legal questions. They do not make the common-law partner an automatic intestate beneficiary — and Ontario courts have shown that pursuing them comes with strict deadlines. How the Courts Have Applied This: Ingram v. Kulynych Estate The Ontario Court of Appeal's 2024 decision in Ingram v. Kulynych Estate illustrates why the distinction between a married spouse and a common-law partner matters in practice, and why timing matters just as much as entitlement. [8] Kathleen Ingram had lived with Henry Kulynych in a common-law relationship for roughly 18 years before his death in 2017. His will, prepared decades earlier, left his estate to his children and made no provision for her. Ms. Ingram argued that she had supported him financially and provided care throughout the relationship, and that he had benefited from living in her home while renting out his own and keeping the income. More than four years after his death, she brought a claim for a share of the estate based on unjust enrichment and constructive trust — legal doctrines that can sometimes compensate a person who contributed to another's property without a corresponding benefit in return. The estate trustee argued the claim was too late. The legal issue on appeal was narrow but consequential: did a two-year limitation period under the Trustee Act, or a ten-year period under the Real Property Limitations Act, apply to a claim of this kind against an estate? The Court of Appeal sided with the estate, holding that the shorter, two-year limitation period governs equitable claims like unjust enrichment brought against an estate, even where the claim relates to real property. Because Ms. Ingram had waited more than four years, her claim was barred. The decision attracted attention among estates lawyers because it resolved conflicting lower-court approaches to a recurring problem, and because it underscored a hard reality for common-law partners: unlike a married spouse, who inherits automatically under the Succession Law Reform Act regardless of when they come forward, a common-law partner pursuing a property-based claim against an estate generally has only two years from the date of death to act. The case did not change the underlying rule that common-law partners are excluded from automatic intestacy — it confirmed how narrow the window is for the alternative legal routes available to them. What Happens When There Is No Surviving Married Spouse? If there is no surviving married spouse entitled to inherit, the estate generally passes through the deceased's family in a legal order established by the Succession Law Reform Act. Children and Other Descendants If the deceased had children, the children generally share the estate. If a child died before the deceased but left descendants, those descendants may receive that child's share. Parents If the deceased had no surviving spouse or descendants, the estate generally passes equally to the deceased's surviving parents. If only one parent is alive, that parent generally receives the estate. Brothers and Sisters If the deceased had no surviving spouse, descendants or parents, the estate generally passes to the deceased's brothers and sisters. If a brother or sister died before the deceased, that sibling's children may be entitled to inherit their parent's share. Nieces and Nephews If no brother or sister survives, but the deceased had nieces or nephews, the estate may pass among them according to the statutory rules. Other Next of Kin If none of these relatives survives, the estate may pass to the deceased's nearest next of kin. Next of kin means the closest blood relatives identified under the legal rules of family relationship. It does not simply mean the person who was emotionally closest to the deceased. Friends, neighbours, caregivers, unmarried partners and unrelated chosen family members do not inherit merely because no close relative was involved in the deceased's life. Do Stepchildren Inherit? A stepchild does not ordinarily inherit under Ontario's intestacy rules unless the stepchild was legally adopted by the deceased. This can produce unexpected results in blended families. A person may have raised and supported a stepchild for many years, but the stepchild may receive nothing from the estate if there is no Will and no legal adoption. What Happens If No Relatives Can Be Found? If there is no person entitled to inherit under Ontario's intestacy rules, the estate may eventually pass to the Crown. This is sometimes described as the estate escheating to the Crown. Before that occurs, searches may be conducted for relatives, including distant family members. Genealogical records, birth records, marriage records and other historical documents may be used to determine whether an heir exists. Are Debts Paid Before Beneficiaries Receive Anything? Yes. Beneficiaries generally receive only what remains after the estate's proper debts, taxes and expenses have been addressed. These expenses may include: funeral and burial expenses; income tax; mortgages and secured debts; credit cards and personal loans; legal and accounting expenses; estate administration costs; and other valid creditor claims. A beneficiary's expected inheritance may therefore be reduced or eliminated if the estate has significant debts. Beneficiaries are not normally personally responsible for the deceased's debts merely because they are related to the deceased. However, separate responsibility may exist where a person jointly signed for a debt, guaranteed it or was otherwise independently liable. What Is Probate? Probate is the commonly used name for the court process through which an estate trustee's legal authority is formally recognized. When there is no Will, the application is generally for a Certificate of Appointment of Estate Trustee Without a Will. Banks, investment companies, land-registration authorities and other institutions may require this certificate before releasing or transferring estate assets. Probate does not itself decide every estate dispute. Its principal purpose is to establish the estate trustee's authority to deal with the assets covered by the certificate. Is Estate Administration Tax Payable? Estate Administration Tax may be payable when an application for an estate certificate is made. Ontario currently calculates the tax based on the value of the estate covered by the certificate: no tax is payable on the first $50,000; and $15 is payable for every $1,000, or part of $1,000, above $50,000. [5] Certain assets that pass outside the estate may not be included in the value used for the certificate. The treatment of a particular asset depends on its ownership and legal status. The estate representative may also be required to file an Estate Information Return with the Ontario Ministry of Finance after the certificate is issued. [5] What Happens to Income Tax? Death does not end a person's tax obligations. The deceased's legal representative may be responsible for: notifying the Canada Revenue Agency; filing the deceased's final income-tax return; filing any additional estate or trust returns; paying taxes from estate funds; and obtaining information about the deceased's accounts. The Canada Revenue Agency provides information for legal representatives dealing with the tax affairs of someone who has died. [6] Can the Family Simply Divide the Estate Informally? Family agreement does not remove the estate trustee's legal responsibilities. The estate trustee must identify the lawful beneficiaries, deal with debts and taxes, maintain records and distribute the estate according to the governing law. In some situations, adult beneficiaries may agree to a different distribution through a properly documented arrangement. However, complications may arise when: a beneficiary is under 18; a beneficiary lacks legal capacity; creditors remain unpaid; taxes have not been resolved; not all beneficiaries agree; or the arrangement affects another person's legal rights. An informal division of estate property can create personal liability for the person handling the estate. Why This Area of Law Is Changing Ontario's intestacy scheme is not static. Several changes to the Succession Law Reform Act introduced by the Accelerating Access to Justice Act, 2021 took effect on January 1, 2022, and their practical impact is only now becoming fully apparent. One of those changes prevents a legally married spouse from inheriting on an intestacy — or benefiting under an existing will — where the couple was separated at the time of death under specific statutory conditions, such as having lived separate and apart for three years, having signed a valid separation agreement, or being subject to a court order or arbitration award resolving their affairs. [1] Because the three-year separation pathway only counts time after January 1, 2022, cases involving spouses who meet that threshold began to arise as of early 2025, and the courts and estates bar are still working through how the provision applies to real-world fact patterns. Separately, the exclusion of common-law partners from automatic intestacy rights has drawn sustained attention from legal commentators. Estates and trusts organizations have noted that a growing share of Ontario couples live common-law rather than marry, and have questioned whether a framework built around the assumption of legal marriage still reflects how many families are actually structured. No legislative change extending automatic intestacy rights to common-law partners has been enacted in Ontario as of this writing, and the question remains a subject of ongoing academic and professional discussion rather than settled law. Why the Intestacy Rules Matter Ontario's intestacy rules provide an orderly system for distributing an estate when no valid Will exists. Without these rules, families and courts would have no consistent starting point. However, the rules are based on legal family relationships rather than the deceased's personal wishes. Dying without a Will may mean that: a common-law partner receives no automatic inheritance; a stepchild receives nothing; a separated married spouse may or may not inherit depending on the statutory requirements; a friend or caregiver receives nothing; charities receive nothing; family members must determine who will apply to manage the estate; minor children may become entitled to money without the trust structure the deceased might have preferred; and disputes and administrative delays may arise. The intestacy rules do not punish a person for failing to make a Will. They provide a default legal plan where the deceased left no valid instructions. That default plan may work reasonably for some families. For others, particularly common-law couples, blended families and people with important non-family relationships, the result may differ substantially from what the deceased expected, and, as recent case law shows, the alternatives available to those left out of that plan can carry their own strict deadlines. Ontario law ultimately determines which property belongs to the estate, who may administer it and which relatives are entitled to inherit. The process begins with identifying the estate assets and liabilities, determining whether any property passes outside the estate and applying the statutory order of inheritance to what remains. References [1] Succession Law Reform Act, R.S.O. 1990, c. S.26, Ontario Legislature, particularly Part II governing intestate succession, and the amendments made by the Accelerating Access to Justice Act, 2021, S.O. 2021, c. 4, in force January 1, 2022: https://www.ontario.ca/laws/statute/90s26 [2] Family Law Act, R.S.O. 1990, c. F.3, Ontario Legislature, section 29 definition of "spouse" for support purposes: https://www.ontario.ca/laws/statute/90f03 [3] Ontario Ministry of the Attorney General, "Apply for probate of an estate," including applications for a Certificate of Appointment of Estate Trustee Without a Will: https://www.ontario.ca/page/apply-probate-estate [4] Preferential Share Regulation, O. Reg. 54/95 under the Succession Law Reform Act, establishing the $350,000 preferential share for deaths occurring on or after March 1, 2021: https://www.ontario.ca/laws/regulation/950054 [5] Ontario Ministry of Finance, "Estate Administration Tax," including the current tax calculation and Estate Information Return requirements: https://www.ontario.ca/page/estate-administration-tax [6] Canada Revenue Agency, "What to do when someone has died," information concerning final tax returns and the responsibilities of a legal representative: https://www.canada.ca/en/revenue-agency/services/tax/individuals/life-events/what-when-someone-died.html [7] Estates Act, R.S.O. 1990, c. E.21, Ontario Legislature, governing estate administration and court authority concerning estate trustees: https://www.ontario.ca/laws/statute/90e21 [8] Ingram v. Kulynych Estate, 2024 ONCA 678, Court of Appeal for Ontario, addressing the limitation period applicable to equitable trust and unjust enrichment claims brought by a common-law partner against an estate: https://www.canlii.org/en/on/onca/doc/2024/2024onca678/2024onca678.html

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: June 29, 2026 Personal injury law is often viewed as a modern legal concept. Today, courts regularly assess compensation for physical injuries, lost income, medical expenses, and other harms. Yet the idea that a person who causes injury should compensate the victim is far older than many people realize. More than 4,000 years ago, the ancient Sumerians recorded laws dealing with broken bones, lost teeth, severed limbs, and other bodily injuries. These provisions appeared in the Code of Ur-Nammu, widely recognized as the oldest surviving legal code known to history. [1] What makes the Code of Ur-Nammu remarkable is not simply its age. Unlike many later ancient legal systems that relied heavily on physical retaliation, the Code often required monetary compensation for bodily injuries. In many respects, it reflected an early attempt to replace revenge with predictable legal remedies. [1] Although separated by four millennia, some of the fundamental ideas found in modern personal injury law can be traced to these early written laws. What Was the Code of Ur-Nammu? The Code of Ur-Nammu was created during the Third Dynasty of Ur in ancient Mesopotamia, located in present-day Iraq. Most scholars date the code to approximately 2100–2050 BCE, making it roughly three centuries older than the better-known Code of Hammurabi. [1] The code is attributed to King Ur-Nammu, although some historians believe portions may have been completed by his son, Shulgi. The surviving fragments contain laws addressing criminal offences, family matters, property disputes, commercial relationships, and personal injuries. [1] The code is particularly significant because it represents one of the earliest known attempts to establish a written and standardized legal system. Rather than leaving disputes entirely to personal retaliation or arbitrary decisions, specific penalties and compensation amounts were prescribed for various wrongs. [1] Injury Compensation Before Modern Courts In many ancient societies, justice was often tied to retaliation. A person who caused harm could face a punishment mirroring the injury inflicted. Later legal systems, including portions of the Code of Hammurabi, became famous for the principle commonly described as "an eye for an eye." [2][3] The Code of Ur-Nammu took a different approach in many injury cases. Instead of automatically imposing physical punishment, it frequently required the payment of silver to the injured person. [1] This was a significant development. Rather than escalating violence between individuals and families, the law sought to resolve disputes through compensation. In effect, the code recognized that physical injuries could have a measurable value that could be addressed through a legal remedy. While modern personal injury lawyers would not recognize the system as tort law in the contemporary sense, the underlying concept is surprisingly familiar: a person who causes harm may be required to compensate the victim. [1] The World's First Recorded Personal Injury Awards Several surviving provisions of the Code of Ur-Nammu deal directly with bodily injury. One law provided: "If a man knocks out the eye of another man, he shall weigh out half a mina of silver." [1] Another stated: "If a man has cut off another man's foot, he is to pay ten shekels." [1] The code also addressed broken limbs: "If a man, in the course of a scuffle, smashed the limb of another man with a club, he shall pay one mina of silver." [1] Even dental injuries were addressed: "If a man knocks out a tooth of another man, he shall pay two shekels of silver." [1] These provisions are among the earliest surviving examples of a legal system assigning monetary compensation for physical injuries. [1] The amounts varied depending on the severity and nature of the injury, demonstrating an early attempt to distinguish between different levels of harm. What Would Those Compensation Awards Be Worth Today? One challenge when studying ancient laws is translating ancient units of value into modern terms. The Code of Ur-Nammu measured compensation using silver, typically in shekels and minas. A mina generally equalled approximately 500 grams of silver, while a shekel represented a smaller fraction of that amount. [1] Using modern silver prices, half a mina of silver could be worth several hundred Canadian dollars based solely on the metal's value. A full mina could exceed $700 CAD depending on current market prices. However, comparing ancient and modern values is not straightforward. [1] In Ur-Nammu's time, silver represented significant purchasing power. Historians generally agree that the compensation amounts found in the code were substantial and were intended to provide meaningful restitution rather than symbolic payments. [1] For that reason, a payment of one mina of silver for a serious injury may have represented the equivalent of many weeks or months of earnings for an ordinary worker. While exact comparisons are impossible, the awards would likely have had a far greater economic impact than their raw silver value might suggest today. [1] Perhaps the most striking feature of these provisions is not the precise amount paid. It is the fact that the law recognized different injuries as having different levels of compensable harm, a principle that remains central to modern personal injury law. Why These Laws Were Revolutionary Today, compensation for injuries is a routine feature of civil justice systems. In ancient Mesopotamia, however, the idea was far from obvious. Many early legal traditions focused primarily on punishment. The Code of Ur-Nammu still imposed severe penalties for certain crimes, including murder and robbery, but bodily injury provisions frequently relied on compensation rather than retaliation. [1] This represented an important shift in legal thinking. Rather than asking how an offender should suffer, the law increasingly asked how a victim should be compensated. The distinction may seem subtle, but it reflects a different philosophy of justice. Compensation seeks to repair harm. Retaliation seeks to inflict harm in return. Although the Code of Ur-Nammu was far from a modern human rights document, its injury provisions reveal an early recognition that legal disputes could be resolved through financial remedies rather than continuing cycles of violence. [1] Comparing Ur-Nammu to Modern Personal Injury Law Modern Canadian personal injury law is far more sophisticated than anything found in ancient Mesopotamia. Today, courts may award damages for: Pain and suffering Loss of income Future care costs Medical expenses Loss of earning capacity Family law claims arising from injury The legal analysis can involve expert evidence, medical assessments, accident reconstruction, and detailed economic calculations. Nevertheless, the basic principle remains familiar. When a person suffers harm because of another person's actions, compensation may be available. The Code of Ur-Nammu approached the issue differently. Compensation amounts were fixed by law rather than individually assessed. There were no judges calculating future losses or weighing medical evidence. Yet the underlying idea—that physical injuries can justify a monetary remedy—appears remarkably early in recorded legal history. [1] Did Ancient Sumer Have the First Tort System? Modern tort law did not exist in ancient Sumer. There were no negligence claims, occupiers' liability actions, class proceedings, insurance disputes, or complex damage calculations. The legal system was simpler, and the surviving texts are incomplete. [1] However, many legal historians view the Code of Ur-Nammu as an important early step in the development of compensation-based justice. [1] The code recognized that injury created a legal obligation. In many situations, that obligation was satisfied through payment rather than physical punishment. While it would be inaccurate to describe the Code of Ur-Nammu as a modern tort system, it clearly demonstrates that societies were grappling with questions of compensation, fairness, and responsibility thousands of years before the emergence of contemporary civil law. Why the Code of Ur-Nammu Still Matters The Code of Ur-Nammu continues to attract attention because it provides a rare glimpse into some of humanity's earliest recorded legal thinking. [1] Its injury provisions reveal that concerns about fairness, accountability, and compensation are not uniquely modern. People living more than four millennia ago faced many of the same fundamental questions that legal systems continue to address today. How should society respond when someone causes harm? Should the focus be punishment, compensation, or both? Can disputes be resolved through predictable legal rules rather than personal retaliation? These questions remain central to modern legal systems. The answers have evolved dramatically over time, but the Code of Ur-Nammu demonstrates that the search for fair compensation and structured justice began long before modern courts, legislatures, and legal professions existed. [1] In that sense, some of the roots of today's personal injury law can be traced back to the earliest surviving written laws in human history. References [1] Roth, Martha T. Law Collections from Mesopotamia and Asia Minor, 2nd ed. Scholars Press, 1997. Discussion of the Code of Ur-Nammu and translations of surviving provisions. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Code_of_Ur-Nammu [2] Code of Hammurabi, c. 1750 BCE. Ancient Mesopotamian legal code. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Code_of_Hammurabi [3] Biblical Law, Exodus 21:23–25 ("eye for an eye"), discussed as a comparable ancient legal principle. vailable at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye_for_an_eye

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: June 22, 2026 Few Ontario employment law decisions arising from the COVID-19 era have attracted as much attention as Croke v. VuPoint System Ltd., 2024 ONCA 354. The case arose from a workplace vaccination requirement, but the legal issue before the Court was broader than vaccination alone. It asked what happens when an external requirement prevents an employee from performing the essential duties of a position. [1] The Ontario Court of Appeal held that the employment contract had been frustrated. In practical terms, the Court found that the employment relationship ended because a supervening event fundamentally changed the contract. Mr. Croke could no longer perform the work he had been hired to do because Bell, VuPoint's dominant client, required technicians working on Bell projects to be vaccinated against COVID-19. [1] The case remains significant because it sits at the intersection of two issues that continue to generate discussion: frustration of contract and the legal legacy of pandemic-era vaccination policies. [1][4][5][6][7] Understanding Frustration of Contract Frustration of contract occurs when an unforeseen event fundamentally changes a contract after it has been formed, making performance impossible or radically different from what the parties originally agreed to. When frustration is established, the contract comes to an end because the original bargain can no longer be carried out. [1] In employment law, frustration commonly arises in cases involving long-term disability, loss of a required licence, incarceration, or other circumstances that prevent an employee from performing the essential duties of the position. [1] The doctrine is not concerned with blame. Rather, the question is whether the employment contract can still be performed in substance. Courts apply the doctrine cautiously because a finding of frustration can affect rights that would otherwise arise when employment ends, including common law notice and wrongful dismissal damages. [1][2] The Facts Behind the Case Alan Croke worked as a systems technician for VuPoint System Ltd., a company providing installation services for Bell customers. More than 99 percent of VuPoint's annual income came from Bell-related work. [1] During the COVID-19 pandemic, Bell introduced a mandatory vaccination requirement for technicians working on Bell projects. VuPoint implemented a corresponding policy. Employees who did not disclose their vaccination status were treated as unvaccinated and became ineligible to perform Bell-related work. [1][2] Mr. Croke declined to disclose his vaccination status and did not comply with the policy. As a result, he became ineligible to perform Bell assignments. Since Bell work represented almost all of VuPoint's business, he could no longer perform the core duties of his position. [1][2] VuPoint treated the employment contract as frustrated. Mr. Croke brought a wrongful dismissal action, arguing that the employment relationship had not been frustrated and that he remained entitled to damages. [1][2] The Vaccination Issue and the Broader Debate The vaccination requirement was central to the dispute. Mr. Croke's employment did not end because of poor performance, misconduct, or a business restructuring. It ended because he did not comply with a COVID-19 vaccination requirement that had become a practical condition of performing Bell-related work. [1][2] Importantly, the Ontario Court of Appeal was not asked to decide whether COVID-19 vaccines were medically necessary or whether vaccination policies were good public policy. Its task was narrower: to determine whether the employment contract had been frustrated once Bell's requirement made Mr. Croke unable to perform the essential duties of his position. [1] The broader legal landscape was far from uniform. Across Canada, employees, unions, and employers challenged vaccination policies on numerous grounds, including personal autonomy, privacy concerns, bodily integrity, employment rights, and, in some cases, human rights protections. Courts and arbitrators reached different conclusions depending on the workplace, the evidence available at the time, collective agreement language, human rights considerations, and the scope of the policy itself. [4][5][6][7] Some policies were upheld. In UFCW, Canada, Local 333 v. Paragon Protection Ltd., an Ontario labour arbitrator upheld a vaccination policy where many client sites required vaccinated contractor staff. [6] Other decisions reached different conclusions as circumstances evolved. In FCA Canada Inc. v. Unifor, Locals 195, 444, 1285, Arbitrator Marilyn Nairn concluded that FCA's mandatory two-dose vaccination policy was no longer reasonable going forward in light of changing workplace conditions and the evidence available at the time. [7] These decisions demonstrate that vaccination policies were not immune from legal scrutiny. As the pandemic evolved, decision-makers increasingly examined whether particular policies remained necessary, proportionate, and justified in the circumstances. [7] Against that backdrop, Croke remains important because the Court focused on a narrower contractual issue: whether Bell's requirement prevented Mr. Croke from performing the essential duties of his position and therefore frustrated the employment contract. [1] The Lower Court Decision The Ontario Superior Court of Justice dismissed Mr. Croke's wrongful dismissal action by summary judgment. The motion judge found that the employment contract had been frustrated because Mr. Croke could no longer perform the work required by his employment relationship with VuPoint. [2] The decision attracted attention because it was one of the first Ontario court decisions to apply frustration of contract to a non-union employee who refused to comply with a mandatory COVID-19 vaccination requirement. [2][4] Bell's role was critical. VuPoint depended almost entirely on Bell work, and once Mr. Croke became ineligible to perform that work, the core purpose of the employment contract could no longer be carried out. [1][2] The Legal Issue Before the Court of Appeal The central question before the Ontario Court of Appeal was whether Bell's vaccination requirement constituted a supervening event that frustrated the employment contract. [1] In other words, the Court had to determine whether the inability to perform work resulted from an unforeseen external circumstance that fundamentally changed the contract, or whether VuPoint had effectively dismissed Mr. Croke in a way that could support a wrongful dismissal claim. [1] If the contract was frustrated, Mr. Croke would not be entitled to common law wrongful dismissal damages. If it was not, the case could proceed as a dismissal claim. [1][2] Osgoode Hall, Toronto, Ontario (Ontario Court of Appeal). The Ontario Court of Appeal's Decision The Ontario Court of Appeal upheld the lower court's decision and concluded that the employment contract had been frustrated. [1] The Court found that Bell's vaccination requirement was the relevant supervening event. Bell was not a minor customer; it was the source of virtually all of VuPoint's work. Once Bell required technicians on its projects to be vaccinated, the requirement became central to whether VuPoint technicians could perform their jobs. [1] The Court emphasized that frustration is not about fault. The issue was not whether Mr. Croke was a good or bad employee, nor whether VuPoint had cause to dismiss him. The issue was whether an unforeseen external development had fundamentally altered the employment relationship. [1] The Court also rejected the argument that frustration could not apply because Mr. Croke theoretically had the ability to change his circumstances. Instead, the Court focused on the practical reality that he did not comply with the requirement and therefore could not perform the work required by the contract during the relevant period. [1] Importantly, the Court did not rule that all vaccination policies are lawful or that every refusal to comply with a workplace policy will frustrate an employment contract. The decision was tied closely to the specific facts before the Court. [1] Why the Decision Attracted Attention The case became one of the most discussed Canadian employment decisions arising from the pandemic because it touched on issues that were both legally and socially contentious. [4][5] For the public, the vaccination issue attracted the most attention. For employment lawyers, however, the more significant issue was the Court's treatment of frustration. The decision demonstrated that frustration can arise from a third-party requirement rather than from a policy imposed solely by the employer. [1][4][5] That principle extends beyond COVID-19. Many workplaces operate under requirements imposed by customers, regulators, governments, insurers, site owners, or contractual partners. Employees may need licences, security clearances, certifications, or other approvals to perform certain work. When an external requirement removes the ability to perform the core duties of a position, frustration may become a live issue. [1] The Broader Employment Law Significance Croke does not create a blanket rule that refusal to comply with a workplace policy automatically frustrates an employment contract. The decision is much narrower than that. [1] The Court focused on the specific structure of the employment relationship. Bell controlled access to almost all of VuPoint's work. VuPoint had little practical ability to assign Mr. Croke to non-Bell work. The inability to perform Bell assignments went to the root of the contract. [1][2] For employment lawyers, the decision reinforces that frustration remains a fact-specific doctrine. Courts will continue to examine the nature of the job, the source of the external requirement, whether meaningful alternative work exists, and whether the contract can still be performed in substance. [1] Appeal to the Supreme Court of Canada Mr. Croke sought leave to appeal to the Supreme Court of Canada. On December 19, 2024, the Supreme Court dismissed the application for leave to appeal, leaving the Ontario Court of Appeal's decision in place. As is customary, no detailed reasons were provided. [3] An Evolving Area of Employment Law Although many pandemic-era workplace vaccination policies have since been withdrawn, Croke remains relevant because it addresses how employment contracts respond when external requirements interfere with an employee's ability to perform essential duties. [1] The broader vaccination-policy landscape remains complex. Some decisions upheld vaccination requirements, particularly where workplace safety or client-site access concerns existed. Other decisions found that policies no longer remained reasonable as circumstances evolved. [6][7] Croke therefore stands for a narrower but important proposition. It does not settle the broader debate over COVID-19 vaccination policies. Rather, it confirms that an employment contract may be frustrated where a third-party requirement makes an employee unable to perform the core duties of a position. [1] As workplaces continue to adapt to changing regulatory, technological, and contractual requirements, frustration of contract will remain an important employment law doctrine. Croke provides a modern example of how courts may apply that doctrine when the obstacle to continued employment comes from outside the employer-employee relationship itself. [1] References [1] Croke v. VuPoint System Ltd., 2024 ONCA 354 (CanLII), Court of Appeal for Ontario. https://www.canlii.org/en/on/onca/doc/2024/2024onca354/2024onca354.html [2] Croke v. VuPoint System Ltd., 2023 ONSC 1234 (CanLII), Ontario Superior Court of Justice. https://www.canlii.org/en/on/onsc/doc/2023/2023onsc1234/2023onsc1234.html [3] Supreme Court of Canada, Alan Croke v. VuPoint System Ltd., File No. 41372, Application for Leave to Appeal Dismissed, December 19, 2024. https://decisions.scc-csc.ca/scc-csc/scc-l-csc-a/en/item/20793/index.do [4] Hicks Morley Hamilton Stewart Storie LLP, Court of Appeal Confirms Employment Contract Frustrated by Failure to Comply with Mandatory Vaccination Requirement, May 9, 2024. https://hicksmorley.com/2024/05/09/court-of-appeal-confirms-employment-contract-frustrated-by-failure-to-comply-with-mandatory-vaccination-requirement/ [5] Emond Harnden LLP, Court of Appeal for Ontario Confirms Frustration of Contract in Mandatory Vaccination Case, May 2024. https://ehlaw.ca/court-of-appeal-for-ontario-confirms-frustration-of-contract-in-mandatory-vaccination-case/ [6] UFCW, Canada, Local 333 v. Paragon Protection Ltd., Labour Arbitration Award, November 9, 2021. https://hicksmorley.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/UFCW-and-Paragon-Protection.pdf [7] FCA Canada Inc. v. Unifor, Locals 195, 444, 1285, 2022 CanLII 52913 (ON LA). https://www.canlii.org/en/on/onla/doc/2022/2022canlii52913/2022canlii52913.html

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: June 20, 2026 In recent years, debate in Parliament has increasingly shifted away from what legislation does and toward how quickly it is being passed. Supporters of recent federal legislation argue that Canada faces significant economic, security, infrastructure, and social challenges that require decisive government action. Critics counter that speed should not come at the expense of parliamentary scrutiny, constitutional protections, or meaningful public consultation. That debate has intensified following the introduction and advancement of several major federal bills, including Bill C-5, Bill C-9, Bill C-12, and Bill C-2. Together, these legislative initiatives have sparked concerns from legal organizations, constitutional scholars, civil liberties advocates, Indigenous leaders, and privacy experts regarding Charter rights, Indigenous rights, procedural fairness, and government accountability. [1][2][3][4] The discussion extends far beyond ordinary political disagreement. At its core lies a fundamental question: how should Canada balance efficiency in government with the constitutional protections that form the foundation of a democratic society? Why Fast-Tracking Legislation Matters Parliament exists for more than simply passing laws. Canada's legislative process is designed to provide opportunities for debate, committee review, expert testimony, public participation, and amendment before legislation becomes law. The process helps identify constitutional concerns, unintended consequences, and practical problems that may not be apparent when legislation is first introduced. [5] When governments use procedural tools to limit debate or accelerate legislation, critics argue that Parliament's oversight function is weakened. Supporters respond that governments must be capable of governing effectively and that procedural delays should not prevent action on important national issues. This tension has existed throughout Canadian history. What makes the current debate different is that many of the bills involved directly affect constitutional rights, Indigenous rights, privacy protections, and immigration processes. Bill C-5 and Indigenous Rights Bill C-5, the One Canadian Economy Act, was introduced as part of the federal government's effort to accelerate economic development, remove interprovincial trade barriers, and streamline approvals for projects considered to be in the national interest. [6] Supporters view the legislation as a mechanism to reduce delays that have historically slowed major infrastructure and resource projects. Opponents view it differently. One of the most significant concerns raised by Indigenous organizations and Indigenous rights lawyers is whether accelerated approval processes could undermine meaningful consultation with First Nations, Inuit, and Métis communities. JFK Law, an Indigenous rights law firm, stated that Bill C-5 continues a legislative trend that risks "undermining Indigenous rights" and weakening protections recognized under section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982. [7] Section 35 recognizes and affirms existing Aboriginal and treaty rights. Over several decades, the Supreme Court of Canada has repeatedly emphasized that governments may have a constitutional duty to consult Indigenous communities when proposed decisions could adversely affect those rights. [8] The concern expressed by many Indigenous organizations is not necessarily that consultation will disappear entirely. Rather, it is that consultation conducted under accelerated timelines may become less meaningful. This issue has attracted attention because courts have repeatedly held that consultation must be more than a procedural formality. Meaningful consultation requires genuine consideration of Indigenous concerns before decisions are finalized. [8] Whether Bill C-5 ultimately affects consultation obligations remains an unresolved legal question that may eventually be addressed through future litigation. Bill C-9 and Freedom of Expression Bill C-9 has generated significant debate among legal organizations, civil liberties advocates, and constitutional scholars because it touches directly on one of the most protected rights in Canadian law: freedom of expression. The legislation proposes amendments to Canada's hate-propaganda provisions and would create new restrictions relating to the public display of certain hate-related symbols. Supporters argue that the bill is intended to address growing concerns regarding hate-motivated activity, extremist movements, and the public promotion of hatred. [2] Critics do not necessarily dispute the objective of combating hatred. Instead, many have questioned whether the legislation strikes the appropriate balance between protecting vulnerable communities and preserving constitutional freedoms. The Canadian Civil Liberties Association has publicly criticized the legislation, arguing that it raises serious civil liberties concerns and warning that legislation designed to combat hatred must be carefully drafted to avoid unnecessarily restricting protected expression. [2] The concerns primarily engage section 2 of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which protects freedom of expression, freedom of thought, freedom of belief, freedom of opinion, and freedom of religion. [9] Canadian courts have long recognized that freedom of expression protects a wide range of speech, including expression that many people may find offensive, unpopular, or controversial. At the same time, courts have also recognized that certain forms of hate propaganda may be restricted where those limits can be justified under the Charter. The Supreme Court of Canada's decisions in R. v. Keegstra and Saskatchewan (Human Rights Commission) v. Whatcott remain among the leading authorities addressing this balance. [10][11] As a result, the debate surrounding Bill C-9 is not simply about whether hate should be prohibited. Rather, it concerns where the constitutional line should be drawn between lawful expression and expression that Parliament believes warrants restriction. Supporters of the legislation argue that stronger measures are necessary to address modern forms of hate promotion and extremist activity. Critics argue that broad restrictions affecting speech require careful scrutiny because once limitations on expression are enacted, courts may ultimately be required to determine whether those restrictions comply with the Charter. The discussion surrounding Bill C-9 therefore reflects a longstanding challenge within Canadian constitutional law: balancing the protection of vulnerable groups against the preservation of fundamental freedoms. Bill C-12 and Refugee Protection Bill C-12, the Strengthening Canada's Immigration System and Borders Act, has generated criticism from immigration lawyers, refugee advocates, academics, and civil liberties organizations. The legislation proposes reforms affecting refugee claims, border management, and immigration procedures. The Canadian Bar Association raised concerns that aspects of the legislation could undermine: "accountability, transparency, and fairness." [3] The concern is that some claimants may face reduced procedural protections depending on the circumstances of their arrival or the timing of their claims. Several legal academics have also expressed concerns. Professor Idil Atak described aspects of the legislation as: "very regressive in terms of refugee protection." [10] Professor Audrey Macklin similarly questioned whether certain proposed procedures would provide refugee claimants with: "a fair hearing." [10] These concerns engage section 7 of the Charter, which protects life, liberty, and security of the person. [9] Canadian courts have repeatedly recognized that procedural fairness is a fundamental principle of administrative and constitutional law. Where government decisions significantly affect individuals, fairness in the decision-making process becomes especially important. For that reason, critics argue that any reduction in procedural safeguards deserves careful parliamentary scrutiny before implementation. Bill C-2 and Privacy Rights Among privacy advocates, Bill C-2 has become one of the most closely watched pieces of legislation. The bill contains lawful-access provisions involving information sharing, production orders, and government access to certain categories of information. Privacy concerns are not merely theoretical. The federal government's own Charter Statement acknowledges that aspects of the legislation engage Charter rights relating to freedom of expression, liberty interests, and protection against unreasonable search and seizure. [11] Citizen Lab, a research organization that frequently studies privacy and surveillance issues, warned that the legislation could have: "far-reaching implications" [12] for information sharing and privacy rights. Legal commentators have also criticized aspects of the proposed procedural framework. Lawyers at McInnes Cooper described certain timelines affecting production-order challenges as: "completely unworkable for most service providers." [13] These concerns engage section 8 of the Charter, which protects individuals against unreasonable search and seizure. [9] The Supreme Court of Canada has increasingly recognized privacy as a fundamental constitutional value in the digital age. As technology evolves, courts continue to confront questions regarding the appropriate limits of government access to personal information. What Charter Rights Are Being Discussed? Much of the public debate surrounding these bills focuses on several key constitutional protections. Section 2 of the Charter protects freedom of expression, freedom of religion, freedom of belief, and freedom of association. Concerns regarding Bill C-9 largely arise under this provision. [9] Section 7 of the Charter protects life, liberty, and security of the person. Critics of Bill C-12 argue that refugee claimants may be affected by changes that engage these protections. [9] Section 8 of the Charter protects individuals against unreasonable search and seizure. Privacy advocates have focused on this provision when discussing Bill C-2. [9] Section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982 recognizes and affirms Aboriginal and treaty rights. Concerns regarding Bill C-5 primarily arise under this constitutional framework. [8] Importantly, raising a Charter concern does not automatically mean legislation is unconstitutional. Rather, it means that constitutional questions have been identified and may eventually require judicial consideration. What Legal Professionals Are Saying A common theme emerges across many of the criticisms. Legal organizations are not necessarily arguing that governments lack authority to legislate in these areas. Instead, many are questioning whether Parliament has devoted sufficient time to examining the constitutional implications before these measures become law. Civil liberties organizations emphasize Charter protections. Indigenous organizations emphasize consultation obligations. Immigration lawyers emphasize procedural fairness. Privacy experts emphasize government access to personal information. Although the concerns differ, they share a common thread: the belief that legislation affecting fundamental rights deserves extensive scrutiny before implementation. An Ongoing Constitutional Debate None of the legislation discussed in this article has been declared unconstitutional by a Canadian court. That distinction is important. Many of the concerns raised by lawyers, academics, advocacy organizations, and commentators remain unresolved legal questions. Nevertheless, the discussion surrounding Bill C-5, Bill C-9, Bill C-12, and Bill C-2 highlights an enduring challenge within Canadian democracy. Governments must be able to govern. Parliament must be able to scrutinize. Courts must be able to protect constitutional rights. The ongoing debate over fast-tracked legislation reflects the continuing effort to balance those competing responsibilities. As these laws are implemented—and as future court challenges emerge—the conversation surrounding Charter rights, Indigenous rights, privacy protections, and parliamentary accountability is likely to remain at the forefront of Canadian public law. References [1] Parliament of Canada, LEGISinfo – Federal Legislation, Parliament of Canada. https://www.parl.ca/legisinfo/en [2] Canadian Civil Liberties Association, Bill C-9 Was Supposed to Fight Hate. Instead, It’s Being Rushed Through Parliament and Threatens the Rights of Every Canadian, March 12, 2026. https://ccla.org/press-release/bill-c-9-was-supposed-to-fight-hate-instead-its-being-rushed-through-parliament-and-threatens-the-rights-of-every-canadian/ [3] Canadian Bar Association, Bill C-12 — Strengthening Canada’s Immigration System and Borders Act, November 4, 2025. https://cba.org/Our-Impact/Submissions/Bill-C-12-Strengthening-Canada-s-Immigration-System-and-Borders-Act [4] Department of Justice Canada, Charter Statements, Government of Canada. https://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/csj-sjc/pl/charter-charte/index.html [5] Parliament of Canada, How a Bill Becomes Law, Parliament of Canada. https://learn.parl.ca/understanding-comprendre/en/how-parliament-works/how-a-bill-becomes-law/ [6] Parliament of Canada, Bill C-5, One Canadian Economy Act, LEGISinfo, 45th Parliament, 1st Session. https://www.parl.ca/legisinfo/en/bill/45-1/c-5 [7] JFK Law LLP, Canada’s Bill C-5: Continuing the Legislative Trend of Undermining Indigenous Rights. https://jfklaw.ca/canadas-bill-c-5-continuing-the-legislative-trend-of-undermining-indigenous-rights/ [8] Constitution Act, 1982, being Schedule B to the Canada Act 1982 (UK), 1982, c. 11, s. 35, Government of Canada. https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/const/page-12.html [9] Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, Part I of the Constitution Act, 1982, Government of Canada. https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/const/page-12.html [10] The Guardian, Canada bill targeting refugees feared to signal new era of US-style border policy, December 23, 2025. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/dec/23/canada-bill-refugees [11] Department of Justice Canada, Charter Statement — Bill C-2: An Act respecting certain measures relating to the security of the border between Canada and the United States and respecting other related security measures, June 19, 2025. https://www.justice.gc.ca/eng/csj-sjc/pl/charter-charte/c2_2.html [12] Citizen Lab, Kate Robertson, Unspoken Implications: A Preliminary Analysis of Bill C-2 and Canada’s Potential Data-Sharing Obligations Towards the United States and Other Countries, June 16, 2025. https://citizenlab.ca/research/a-preliminary-analysis-of-bill-c-2/ [13] McInnes Cooper, Bill C-2 “Strong Borders Act” Part 14: “Lawful Access” Is Back, July 30, 2025. https://www.mcinnescooper.com/publications/bill-c-2-strong-borders-act-part-14-lawful-access-is-back/

Written by: Sara Santos-Vigneault Date: June 8, 2026 The Persons Case: When Women Became "Persons" Under Canadian Law Today, it is difficult to imagine a qualified Canadian being excluded from one of the country's highest public offices simply because of their sex. Yet less than one hundred years ago, women could not be appointed to the Senate of Canada. The legal barrier was not created by a law that explicitly excluded women. Instead, it arose from how a single word in Canada's Constitution had been interpreted for decades. That word was "Persons." [1] What followed became one of the most important constitutional cases in Canadian history. Known today as the Persons Case, the dispute helped open the Senate to women and established a constitutional principle that continues to influence Canadian courts nearly a century later. [3] The decision is often remembered as a milestone in the advancement of women's rights. Equally important, however, is the way the case changed how Canada's Constitution is interpreted. The legal reasoning developed in the Persons Case continues to appear in constitutional decisions today, making it one of the most influential cases ever decided in Canada. [3] Canada Before the Persons Case To understand why the case mattered, it helps to remember what Canada looked like in the early twentieth century. Women had already achieved significant legal and political gains. Several provinces had extended voting rights to women, and by 1918 many Canadian women could vote in federal elections. Women were increasingly involved in education, business, social reform movements, and public life. [5][6] Despite these advances, important barriers remained. One such barrier involved the Senate of Canada. Section 24 of the British North America Act, 1867, now known as the Constitution Act, 1867, provides that qualified "Persons" may be summoned to the Senate. [1] For decades, governments interpreted the word "Persons" as applying only to men. As a result, women could participate in many aspects of public life yet remained ineligible for appointment to Canada's upper chamber. [4][5] By the 1920s, many Canadians viewed that interpretation as increasingly outdated. The Famous Five The challenge to this interpretation was led by five Alberta women who became known as the Famous Five: • Emily Murphy • Henrietta Muir Edwards • Nellie McClung • Louise McKinney • Irene Parlby [4][5] Each woman had established herself as a prominent advocate for social and political reform. Emily Murphy, for example, had become Canada's first female police magistrate. During her work in the justice system, questions arose regarding whether women were legally eligible to hold certain public offices. [4][5] These questions helped spark a broader discussion about women's place within Canada's constitutional framework. In 1927, the Famous Five petitioned the federal government to refer a constitutional question to the Supreme Court of Canada. [4] The question was straightforward: "Does the word 'Persons' in section 24 of the British North America Act, 1867, include female persons?" [2] Although simple in wording, the answer would have significant consequences. The Supreme Court of Canada Says No In 1928, the Supreme Court of Canada considered the question. [2] The Court concluded that women were not included within the meaning of "Persons" for the purpose of Senate appointments. [2] The reasoning largely reflected historical assumptions existing at the time Confederation was created in 1867. The judges examined the legal and political environment of the nineteenth century and concluded that the framers of the Constitution likely did not intend women to serve in the Senate. [2] As a result, the Court answered the question in the negative. Today, the decision often surprises readers. Many assume that because women had already gained voting rights, eligibility for Senate appointments would naturally follow. The Supreme Court's ruling demonstrated that legal progress often occurs unevenly. Expanding rights in one area does not automatically remove barriers in another. The Famous Five refused to accept the decision and pursued a further appeal. [4][5] The Final Appeal to London At the time, Canada's highest court was not the Supreme Court of Canada. The final court of appeal for many Canadian matters was the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council in London, England. [3] The Famous Five appealed the Supreme Court's decision to the Privy Council. The appeal would ultimately transform Canadian constitutional law. On October 18, 1929, the Privy Council overturned the Supreme Court's ruling. [3] The decision was written by Lord Sankey. Tne of the most frequently cited passages stated: "The exclusion of women from all public offices is a relic of days more barbarous than ours." [3] The statement reflected the Court's view that legal interpretation should not remain tied indefinitely to outdated social assumptions. The Privy Council concluded that women were indeed "Persons" within the meaning of section 24 and therefore eligible for appointment to the Senate. [3] The decision immediately removed the constitutional barrier that had prevented women from serving in Canada's upper chamber. The Birth of the Living Tree Doctrine The Persons Case is often remembered for its impact on women's participation in public life. Lawyers and judges, however, frequently focus on another aspect of the decision. In explaining why the Constitution should not be interpreted narrowly, Lord Sankey described Canada's Constitution as: "a living tree capable of growth and expansion within its natural limits." [3] Those words became one of the most important constitutional principles in Canadian history. The "living tree" doctrine recognizes that constitutions are intended to endure for generations. Society changes. Technology changes. Governments change. A constitution written in one era must remain capable of functioning in another. The doctrine does not permit courts to rewrite the Constitution whenever they wish. Rather, it acknowledges that constitutional language should be interpreted in a way that allows it to remain meaningful as society evolves. [3] Nearly a century later, Canadian courts continue to rely on this principle. Why the Persons Case Still Matters The legal significance of the Persons Case extends far beyond Senate appointments. The decision helped shape the modern approach to constitutional interpretation in Canada. [3][5] Whenever courts consider how constitutional provisions apply to issues that could not have been anticipated by earlier generations, they are often applying principles that can be traced back to the Persons Case. [3] The case also serves as a reminder that constitutional disputes often involve more than technical legal questions. The original issue concerned a single word. Yet that word affected who could participate in one of Canada's most important democratic institutions. Many landmark legal decisions begin in a similar way. What appears to be a narrow legal question can have far-reaching consequences. Common Misconceptions About the Persons Case The Persons Case is frequently misunderstood. One common misconception is that women were not considered legal persons before 1929. That is not accurate. Women could own property, enter contracts, commence legal proceedings, inherit assets, and exercise numerous legal rights long before the case was decided. [5] The issue before the courts was far narrower. The question was whether women were included within the meaning of "Persons" in a specific constitutional provision dealing with Senate appointments. [2][3] Another misconception is that the decision instantly created equality between men and women. It did not. Many barriers remained. The Persons Case represented an important milestone, but it was only one chapter in a much broader history of legal, political, and social change. [5][6] Historical Recognition and Modern Discussion The Famous Five occupy a prominent place in Canadian history. Statues commemorating the group stand on Parliament Hill in Ottawa and in Calgary's Olympic Plaza. [4][5] The case is routinely taught in schools, discussed in constitutional law courses, and referenced in public conversations about equality and constitutional rights. At the same time, modern discussions have become more nuanced. Historians have noted that some members of the Famous Five supported positions that are viewed critically today, including support for eugenics policies. [5] As a result, contemporary discussions often seek to acknowledge both the importance of the legal achievement and the broader historical context surrounding the individuals involved. A Legacy That Continues Nearly one hundred years after the decision was released, the Persons Case remains one of the most influential constitutional decisions in Canadian history. [3][5] Its legacy can be found not only in the Senate chambers that women were eventually permitted to enter, but also in courtrooms across the country where judges continue to interpret the Constitution as a living document. [3] The question posed by the Famous Five in 1927 appeared deceptively simple. Yet the answer reshaped Canadian constitutional law and helped define how future generations would understand equality, citizenship, and constitutional interpretation. What began as a challenge to a long-standing legal assumption ultimately became one of the most important constitutional decisions in Canadian history. References [1] Constitution Act, 1867, 30 & 31 Vict, c 3 (UK), s 24 Government of Canada – Justice Laws Website https://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/Const/page-1.html [2] Reference re Meaning of the Word "Persons" in Section 24 of the British North America Act, 1867 [1928] SCR 276 Supreme Court of Canada CanLII https://canlii.ca/t/g18jr [3] Edwards v. Canada (Attorney General) [1930] A.C. 124 (Judicial Committee of the Privy Council) CanLII https://canlii.ca/t/gbvs4 [4] The Famous Five and the Persons Case Library of Parliament https://lop.parl.ca/sites/PublicWebsite/default/en_CA/ResearchPublications/BackgroundPapers/PDF/2019-33-E [5] Persons Case The Canadian Encyclopedia https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/persons-case [6] Suffrage The Canadian Encyclopedia https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/suffrage