The Charter of Whiteness: Twenty-Five Years of Maintaining Racial Injustice in the Canadian Criminal Justice System

This paper examines the impact of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms on racial injustice in the Canadian criminal justice system. While there have been modest gains, we have seen very little systemic change over the Charter’s 25-year life. We continue to incarcerate Aboriginals and African Canadians at alarming rates, racial profiling at our borders and in our streets continues to flourish, and the federal government continues to propose legislation that will further entrench the problem. Why is this happening? is there any hope for the future? these are some of the fundamental questions explored. of course, some might say that it is simply naive to think that constitutional litigation can make a difference when dealing with structural and systemic problems. This larger philosophical question is addressed in Part II. Part III sets out and defends the the sis that it is not so much the Charter that is the problem but rather those who apply and interpret it. Racial justice has not had a chance to grow over the last 25 years because there has been a significant failure of trial and appellate lawyers to engage in race talk in the courts and a failure of the judiciary to adopt appropriate critical race standards when invited to do so. Engaging in race talk and developing critical race standards are critical because colourblind due process standards are working disproportionately to the disadvantage of racialized groups. There is reason though to be optimistic. Criminal lawyers and judges are committed to the pursuit of justice and with a greater understanding of what needs to be done and commitment to getting it done, we may begin to see some significant change

Ignoring the Golden Principle of Charter Interpretation?

One consistent and disturbing trend since the birth of the Charter in 1982 is that race has been and continues to be, with a few notable exceptions, erased from the factual narratives presented to the Supreme Court of Canada and from the constitutional legal rules established by the Court in criminal procedure cases. Understanding the etiology of this erasing is not easy. In earlier pieces, the author has explored the role of trial and appellate lawyers. This paper focuses on principles of judicial review and the failure of the Supreme Court to consistently consider the impact of the constitutional rules it creates or interprets on Aboriginal and racialized communities. What makes the silence so problematic is that the Supreme Court gave itself the tool in 2001 to address part of the identified problem when it established an anti-racism principle of Charter interpretation in R. v. Golden. This paper seeks to address a number of questions focused on the legacy of Golden. What is the origin and content of the Golden principle of judicial review? What is the evidence from subsequent cases and academic commentary that this is indeed an accepted principle of constitutional interpretation? What cases from the 2007 Supreme Court term would have benefited from a critical race analysis? in particular, how would factoring in Golden have affected the Court’s analysis in R. v. Clayton? And, finally, how should the Golden principle be applied in future cases

Using the Charter to Stop Racial Profiling: The Development of an Equality-Based Conception of Arbitrary Detention

Do the police use race as a proxy for criminality, particularly, in drug cases? If so, is this a rational discriminatory practice that is based on who the usual offender is or an offensive exercise of racial prejudice? What are the consequences for those communities targeted by the police? This article investigates these questions that have gone unanswered for too long in Canada. After offering a definition of racial profiling, evidence is presented that suggests that the practice is rampant in the United States and is likely practiced by some Canadian police forces, particularly, in cities with large visible minority populations. As for its rationality, recent statistical evidence on drug use and trafficking reveals that racial profiling is a fallacy. As for its reasonableness, racial profiling has had a catastrophic impact on those communities targeted by the police. This article examines how the Charter can be used to stop this practice. Since racial profiling is exercised through the use of pretext vehicle stops and investigative detentions, the focus is on section 9 of the Charter which protects against arbitrary or discriminatory police detentions. While the seminal section 9 cases of Brown v. Durham Regional Police and R. v. Simpson provide some protection against racial profiling, issues of proof and cognitive distortion limit their effectiveness. Thus, enhanced section 9 standards need to be developed. This article looks at infusing section 9 with the equality principles animating section 15(1) of the Charter

Using the Charter to Stop Racial Profiling: The Development of an Equality-Based Conception of Arbitrary Detention

Do the police use race as a proxy for criminality, particularly, in drug cases? If so, is this a rational discriminatory practice that is based on who the usual offender is or an offensive exercise of racial prejudice? What are the consequences for those communities targeted by the police? This article investigates these questions that have gone unanswered for too long in Canada. After offering a definition of racial profiling, evidence is presented that suggests that the practice is rampant in the United States and is likely practiced by some Canadian police forces, particularly, in cities with large visible minority populations. As for its rationality, recent statistical evidence on drug use and trafficking reveals that racial profiling is a fallacy. As for its reasonableness, racial profiling has had a catastrophic impact on those communities targeted by the police. This article examines how the Charter can be used to stop this practice. Since racial profiling is exercised through the use of pretext vehicle stops and investigative detentions, the focus is on section 9 of the Charter which protects against arbitrary or discriminatory police detentions. While the seminal section 9 cases of Brown v. Durham Regional Police and R. v. Simpson provide some protection against racial profiling, issues of proof and cognitive distortion limit their effectiveness. Thus, enhanced section 9 standards need to be developed. This article looks at infusing section 9 with the equality principles animating section 15(1) of the Charter

Ignoring the Golden Principle of Charter Interpretation?

One consistent and disturbing trend since the birth of the Charter in 1982 is that race has been and continues to be, with a few notable exceptions, erased from the factual narratives presented to the Supreme Court of Canada and from the constitutional legal rules established by the Court in criminal procedure cases. Understanding the etiology of this erasing is not easy. In earlier pieces, the author has explored the role of trial and appellate lawyers. This paper focuses on principles of judicial review and the failure of the Supreme Court to consistently consider the impact of the constitutional rules it creates or interprets on Aboriginal and racialized communities. What makes the silence so problematic is that the Supreme Court gave itself the tool in 2001 to address part of the identified problem when it established an anti-racism principle of Charter interpretation in R. v. Golden. This paper seeks to address a number of questions focused on the legacy of Golden. What is the origin and content of the Golden principle of judicial review? What is the evidence from subsequent cases and academic commentary that this is indeed an accepted principle of constitutional interpretation? What cases from the 2007 Supreme Court term would have benefited from a critical race analysis? in particular, how would factoring in Golden have affected the Court’s analysis in R. v. Clayton? And, finally, how should the Golden principle be applied in future cases

Theorising Global Governance Inside Out: A Response to Professor Ladeur

Professor Ladeur argues that administrative law’s postmodernism (and by extension Global Administrative Law) necessitates that we move beyond relying on ideas of delegation, account- ability and legitimacy. Global Governance, particularly Global Administrative Law and Global Constitutionalism, should try to adapt and experiment with the changing nature of the postmod- ern legality and support the creation of norms that will adapt to the complexities of globalisation. Ladeur’s contestation, similar to GAL’s propositions, can be challenged. By taking the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, a significant contributor to the field of international criminal law, as an example, it is suggested that the creation of networks that Ladeur makes visible may not account for ‘regulatory capture’. This paper will argue that from the outside, the proliferation of networks may suggest that spontaneous accountability is possible. A closer look, however, drawing on anthropological insights from the ICTR, reveals that international institutions are suscepti- ble to capture by special interests. Furthermore, there are two central themes that animate the response to Professor Ladeur: the political nature of international institutions and the history of international law, and the role of institutions in this history

Learning to Act Like a Lawyer: A Model Code of Professional Responsibility for Law Students

Law students are the future of the legal profession. How well prepared are they when they leave law school to assume the professional and ethical obligations that they owe themselves, the profession and the public? This question has led to a growing interest in Canada in the teaching of legal ethics. It is also led to a greater emphasis on the development of clinical and experiential learning as exemplified in the scholarship and teaching of Professor Rose Voyvodic. Less attention, however, has been placed on identifying the general ethical responsibilities of law students when not working in a clinic or other legal context. This can be seen in the presence of very few Canadian articles exploring the issue, and more significantly, in the paucity of law school discipline policies or codes of conduct that set out the professional obligations owed by law students. This article develops an idea that Professor Voyvodic and I talked about on a number of occasions. It argues that all law schools should have a code of conduct which is separate and distinct from their general University code and which resembles, with appropriate modifications, the relevant set of rules of professional responsibility law students will be bound by when called to the Bar. A student code of conduct which educates law students about their professional obligations is an important step in deterring such conduct while in law school and preparing students for ethical practice. The idea of a law school code of professional responsibility raises a number of questions. Why is it necessary for law schools to have their own student code of conduct? The article provides a threefold response. First, law students are members of the legal profession and a code of conduct should reflect this. Second, it must be relevant and comprehensive in order to ensure that it can inspire students to be ethical lawyers. And, third, as a practical matter, the last few years have witnessed a number of incidents at law schools that raise serious issues about the professionalism of law students. They include, for example, the UofT marks scandal, the Windsor first year blog and the proliferation of blogs like www.lawstudents.ca and www.lawbuzz.ca with gratuitous, defamatory and offensive entries. It is not clear that all of this conduct would be caught by University codes of conduct which often limit their reach to on campus behaviour or University sanctioned events. What should a law school code of professional responsibility look like and what ethical responsibilities should it identify? For example, should there be a mandatory pro bono obligation on students or a duty to report misconduct. The last part of the article addresses this question by setting out a model code of professional responsibility for law students. Les étudiants et étudiantes en droit constituent l’avenir de la profession juridique. Comment bien préparés sont-ils lorsqu’ils quittent la faculté de droit pour assumer leurs obligations professionnelles et éthiques envers eux-mêmes, envers la profession et envers le public? Cette question a mené à un intérêt grandissant au Canada à l’enseignement de l’éthique juridique. Elle a aussi mené à plus d’emphase sur le développement de formation clinique et expérientielle tel que l’exemplifie le savoir et l’enseignement de la professeure Rose Voyvodic. Toutefois, moins d’attention a été consacrée à identifier les responsabilités éthiques générales d’étudiants et étudiantes en droit lorsqu’ils n’oeuvrent pas dans une clinique ou dans un autre contexte légal. Cela se voit dans les faits qu’il y a très peu d’articles canadiens qui portent sur la question, et, de plus grande importance, qu’il y a pénurie, au sein de facultés de droit, de politiques disciplinaires ou de codes déontologiques qui présentent les obligations professionnelles d’étudiants et étudiantes en droit. Cet article développe une idée que j’ai discuté avec la professeure Voyvodic à un nombre d’occasions. Il soutient que toutes les facultés de droit devraient avoir un code déontologique séparé et distinct du code général de leur université et qui ressemble, avec les modifications appropriées, à l’ensemble pertinent de règlements de responsabilité professionnelle que devront respecter les étudiants et étudiantes en droit lorsqu’ils seront reçus au barreau. Un code déontologique étudiant qui renseigne les étudiants et étudiantes au sujet de leurs obligations professionnelles est une étape importante pour dissuader une telle conduite pendant qu’ils sont à la faculté et pour les préparer en vue d’une pratique fondée sur l’éthique. Le concept d’un code de responsabilité professionnelle pour une faculté de droit soulève un nombre de questions. Pourquoi est-ce nécessaire que les facultés de droit aient leur propre code déontologique? L’article répond en trois temps. D’abord, les étudiants et étudiantes en droit font partie de la profession juridique et un code déontologique devrait refléter cela. Deuxièmement, il doit être pertinent et compréhensif afin d’assurer qu’il puisse inspirer les étudiants et étudiantes à être des avocats qui suivent les normes d’éthique. Et troisièmement, d’ordre pratique, au cours des quelques dernières années, on a été témoins d’un nombre d’incidents à des facultés de droit qui soulèvent des questions importantes en rapport avec le professionnalisme d’étudiants et d’étudiantes en droit. Ils incluent, par exemple, le scandale au sujet de notes à l’université de Toronto, les blogues de la première année à Windsor et la prolifération de blogues tels que www.lawstudents.ca et www. lawbuzz.ca contenant des commentaires injustifiés, diffamatoires et offensifs. Il n’est pas clair si tous ces comportements seraient captés par des codes déontologiques universitaires dont la portée se limite souvent au comportement sur campus ou aux événements sanctionnés par l’université. Quel aspect devrait présenter un code de responsabilité professionnelle pour une faculté de droit et quelles responsabilités éthiques devrait-il identifier? Par exemple, devrait-il y avoir une obligation pro bono impérative pour les étudiants et étudiantes ou le devoir de rapporter une mauvaise conduite. La dernière partie de l’article porte sur cette question en présentant un modèle de code de responsabilité professionnelle pour les étudiants et étudiantes en droit

21. An Equality-Oriented Approach to the Admissibility of Similar Fact Evidence in Sexual Assault Prosecutions

The power of rape mythologies to shape criminal law doctrine drives David Tanovich’s chapter, wherein he considers the rule of evidence that excludes from consideration by the judge or jury evidence of the accused’s “bad character,” even when it involves past sexually assaultive conduct that resulted in criminal conviction. This aspect of the criminal law governing sexual assault prosecution has not been the subject of feminist law reform in Canada, although Julia Tolmie’s chapter in Part I, “New Zealand’s Jane Doe,” describes one of the outcomes of several high profile prosecutorial failures in New Zealand as a renewed public debate on the issue of whether an accused’s criminal convictions for other sexual assaults should be withheld from judges and juries. In recognition of the role of gender bias in shaping the current law, and consistent with women’s equality rights, David proposes a nuanced new rule that would presumptively admit evidence of an accused’s past sexual misconduct in sexual assault prosecutions with some exceptions, including cases where systemic racism may operate against the accused perso

Learning to Act Like a Lawyer: A Model Code of Professional Responsibility for Law Students

Law students are the future of the legal profession. How well prepared are they when they leave law school to assume the professional and ethical obligations that they owe themselves, the profession and the public? This question has led to a growing interest in Canada in the teaching of legal ethics. It is also led to a greater emphasis on the development of clinical and experiential learning as exemplified in the scholarship and teaching of Professor Rose Voyvodic. Less attention, however, has been placed on identifying the general ethical responsibilities of law students when not working in a clinic or other legal context. This can be seen in the presence of very few Canadian articles exploring the issue, and more significantly, in the paucity of law school discipline policies or codes of conduct that set out the professional obligations owed by law students. This article develops an idea that Professor Voyvodic and I talked about on a number of occasions. It argues that all law schools should have a code of conduct which is separate and distinct from their general University code and which resembles, with appropriate modifications, the relevant set of rules of professional responsibility law students will be bound by when called to the Bar. A student code of conduct which educates law students about their professional obligations is an important step in deterring such conduct while in law school and preparing students for ethical practice. The idea of a law school code of professional responsibility raises a number of questions. Why is it necessary for law schools to have their own student code of conduct? The article provides a threefold response. First, law students are members of the legal profession and a code of conduct should reflect this. Second, it must be relevant and comprehensive in order to ensure that it can inspire students to be ethical lawyers. And, third, as a practical matter, the last few years have witnessed a number of incidents at law schools that raise serious issues about the professionalism of law students. They include, for example, the UofT marks scandal, the Windsor first year blog and the proliferation of blogs like www.lawstudents.ca and www.lawbuzz.ca with gratuitous, defamatory and offensive entries. It is not clear that all of this conduct would be caught by University codes of conduct which often limit their reach to on campus behaviour or University sanctioned events. What should a law school code of professional responsibility look like and what ethical responsibilities should it identify? For example, should there be a mandatory pro bono obligation on students or a duty to report misconduct. The last part of the article addresses this question by setting out a model code of professional responsibility for law students. Les étudiants et étudiantes en droit constituent l’avenir de la profession juridique. Comment bien préparés sont-ils lorsqu’ils quittent la faculté de droit pour assumer leurs obligations professionnelles et éthiques envers eux-mêmes, envers la profession et envers le public? Cette question a mené à un intérêt grandissant au Canada à l’enseignement de l’éthique juridique. Elle a aussi mené à plus d’emphase sur le développement de formation clinique et expérientielle tel que l’exemplifie le savoir et l’enseignement de la professeure Rose Voyvodic. Toutefois, moins d’attention a été consacrée à identifier les responsabilités éthiques générales d’étudiants et étudiantes en droit lorsqu’ils n’oeuvrent pas dans une clinique ou dans un autre contexte légal. Cela se voit dans les faits qu’il y a très peu d’articles canadiens qui portent sur la question, et, de plus grande importance, qu’il y a pénurie, au sein de facultés de droit, de politiques disciplinaires ou de codes déontologiques qui présentent les obligations professionnelles d’étudiants et étudiantes en droit. Cet article développe une idée que j’ai discuté avec la professeure Voyvodic à un nombre d’occasions. Il soutient que toutes les facultés de droit devraient avoir un code déontologique séparé et distinct du code général de leur université et qui ressemble, avec les modifications appropriées, à l’ensemble pertinent de règlements de responsabilité professionnelle que devront respecter les étudiants et étudiantes en droit lorsqu’ils seront reçus au barreau. Un code déontologique étudiant qui renseigne les étudiants et étudiantes au sujet de leurs obligations professionnelles est une étape importante pour dissuader une telle conduite pendant qu’ils sont à la faculté et pour les préparer en vue d’une pratique fondée sur l’éthique. Le concept d’un code de responsabilité professionnelle pour une faculté de droit soulève un nombre de questions. Pourquoi est-ce nécessaire que les facultés de droit aient leur propre code déontologique? L’article répond en trois temps. D’abord, les étudiants et étudiantes en droit font partie de la profession juridique et un code déontologique devrait refléter cela. Deuxièmement, il doit être pertinent et compréhensif afin d’assurer qu’il puisse inspirer les étudiants et étudiantes à être des avocats qui suivent les normes d’éthique. Et troisièmement, d’ordre pratique, au cours des quelques dernières années, on a été témoins d’un nombre d’incidents à des facultés de droit qui soulèvent des questions importantes en rapport avec le professionnalisme d’étudiants et d’étudiantes en droit. Ils incluent, par exemple, le scandale au sujet de notes à l’université de Toronto, les blogues de la première année à Windsor et la prolifération de blogues tels que www.lawstudents.ca et www. lawbuzz.ca contenant des commentaires injustifiés, diffamatoires et offensifs. Il n’est pas clair si tous ces comportements seraient captés par des codes déontologiques universitaires dont la portée se limite souvent au comportement sur campus ou aux événements sanctionnés par l’université. Quel aspect devrait présenter un code de responsabilité professionnelle pour une faculté de droit et quelles responsabilités éthiques devrait-il identifier? Par exemple, devrait-il y avoir une obligation pro bono impérative pour les étudiants et étudiantes ou le devoir de rapporter une mauvaise conduite. La dernière partie de l’article porte sur cette question en présentant un modèle de code de responsabilité professionnelle pour les étudiants et étudiantes en droit

The Charter of Whiteness: Twenty-Five Years of Maintaining Racial Injustice in the Canadian Criminal Justice System

This paper examines the impact of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms on racial injustice in the Canadian criminal justice system. While there have been modest gains, we have seen very little systemic change over the Charter’s 25-year life. We continue to incarcerate Aboriginals and African Canadians at alarming rates, racial profiling at our borders and in our streets continues to flourish, and the federal government continues to propose legislation that will further entrench the problem. Why is this happening? is there any hope for the future? these are some of the fundamental questions explored. of course, some might say that it is simply naive to think that constitutional litigation can make a difference when dealing with structural and systemic problems. This larger philosophical question is addressed in Part II. Part III sets out and defends the the sis that it is not so much the Charter that is the problem but rather those who apply and interpret it. Racial justice has not had a chance to grow over the last 25 years because there has been a significant failure of trial and appellate lawyers to engage in race talk in the courts and a failure of the judiciary to adopt appropriate critical race standards when invited to do so. Engaging in race talk and developing critical race standards are critical because colourblind due process standards are working disproportionately to the disadvantage of racialized groups. There is reason though to be optimistic. Criminal lawyers and judges are committed to the pursuit of justice and with a greater understanding of what needs to be done and commitment to getting it done, we may begin to see some significant change