Whose Life Is This Anyway? The Canadian “Right To Die” Debate Part One – Definitions and A Story

Sue Rodriguez was an active and intelligent woman when she was diagnosed with the debilitating and ultimately fatal, Lou Gehrig’s disease or amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) in 1991. Indeed, it is her wit and poise many of us remember when we recall the headlines she generated. Her quote, “whose life is it anyway,” spoken in a slow drawl, her ability to speak being slowly taken away by disease, still resonates with Canadians today as once again our courts grapple with the most basic issues of life and death.

As with all controversial issues, the right to die has taken a “life” of its own as it extends over all areas of deeply held beliefs such as philosophy, science, law, religion, politics, and socio-economic concerns. The issue has been considered in all forms of media and in all manners of legal cases. It has been touted in Kevorkian-like advertisement and debated in the highest offices of the land and yet, it is a profoundly personal issue, which transcends nationality and ethnicity.

Throughout this vastness of ideas and beliefs, it is essential to keep in mind that at the very core of the issue, there is always an individual, a person who is suffering, a person who wants a choice where a choice is not legally given. Sue Rodriguez was such an individual those many years ago when she took her right to choose to the Senate and to the Supreme Court of Canada. In the end, it was Sue Rodriguez who choose to die “on her own terms” outside of the law, even though her last wish was to remain one who respected it.

Euthanasia and assisted suicide are actually two different concepts. Euthanasia is the deliberate act undertaken by one person with the intention of ending the life of another person in order to relieve that person’s suffering. There are three forms of euthanasia: voluntary, non-voluntary, and involuntary. Voluntary euthanasia occurs when the act is done in accordance with the wishes of a legally competent individual or on the basis of a valid medical directive prepared when the patient is competent to authorize the procedure. A competent individual is capable of understanding the nature and consequences of the decision to be made and capable of communicating this decision. Non-voluntary euthanasia occurs when the act is done without knowledge of the wishes of a competent individual or, with respect to an incompetent individual. This form of euthanasia may attract criminal sanctioning. The third and last form is involuntary euthanasia occurs when the act is done against the wishes of the individual. This act is indistinguishable from murder or manslaughter and should attract the full force of our criminal law.

The Criminal Code of Canada, pursuant to s.14, essentially prohibits euthanasia by stating: “No person is entitled to consent to have death inflicted on him.” It is a core traditional principle of our criminal law that an individual cannot consent to his or her death. Indeed, one cannot even consent to grievous injury, which explains why even in a consensual violent sport like hockey, Todd Bertuzzi was charged with assault causing bodily harm. Whether or not the sentence imposed, a conditional discharge, was appropriate is another matter for a later blog. In any event, even in the medical sense, a doctor who gives the patient a lethal injection would be criminally liable. Also in the Criminal Code are legal duties placed upon medical personnel, which require them to perform their duties with all due care, requirements contrary to taking a patient’s life.

Therefore, euthanasia is clearly contrary to Canadian criminal law, and should be prosecuted as first-degree murder, because there is an intent to cause death, which is the definition of murder, and the act is most often planned and deliberate, which is the definition of first-degree murder. However, the Canadian reaction to euthanasia scenarios have fallen short of first-degree murder charges and have tended toward lesser charges such as charges of second-degree murder, manslaughter, and administrating a noxious substance. The charge decisions have definitely been influenced by the circumstances surrounding the euthanasia as a response to human suffering and the desire to relieve the suffering, such as in the Robert Latimer case.

Another factor is the unpredictable nature of juries, who are required to make decisions according to the rule of law but can be swayed by emotional factors as well. Finally, it can be legally difficult to prove murder in euthanasia cases. The Crown prosecutor must prove a legal and factual casual connection between the accused’s actions and the death. Typically, medical evidence is required to make this required connection. In euthanasia cases, it may be medically difficult to prove the exact cause of death when a person is in any case close to death and taking considerable pain medication. 

Assisted suicide, on the other hand, is the act of intentionally killing oneself with the assistance of another who provides either the knowledge to do it or the means to do it, or both. Assisted suicide is specifically prohibited in our Criminal Code under s.241, in which counseling someone to commit suicide or aiding or abetting someone to commit suicide is contrary to the law. Even if the person in question does not die from the aid, the person so assisting may be guilty under the section.

The difference between euthanasia and assisted suicide is therefore dependent on the type of involvement of the third party: euthanasia is when the action of a third party intentionally causes the death of a patient such as through the administration of a lethal injection and assisted suicide is when a third party provides the means and/or information necessary but the actual act causing death is carried out by the patient herself.

My next posting will continue outlining the legal background to this debate with a survey of the legal decisions made on the issue. However, to start and end this posting with Sue Rodriguez is essential: she was a real person suffering from the effects of a debilitating disease and her choice, to end her life when she saw fit, not when it was beyond her control, was her truest wish.

Extraditing Magnotta: Explaining the Extradition Treaty

Not unexpectedly, Luka Rocco Magnotta, aka the alleged “body-parts” killer, was arrested, without incident, in Berlin, Germany. As he was arrested outside of Canadian jurisdiction, Magnotta may only be transferred to Canada pursuant to treaty agreements between the two countries. The Treaty now in force dates from 1979 and governs both the extradition of fugitives facing charges (or having been convicted facing sentence) in Canada when found in Germany as well as those fugitives from German justice found on Canadian soil.

In 2004, a supplementary Treaty was implemented between Canada and Germany.  For the most part, this supplement merely clarifies or simplifies the language of the original, but there are a few substantial changes to the document, which I will note. One significant change is a broadening of offences subject to extradition: in the original Treaty, an extraditable offence needed to be listed on a Treaty, while in the amended version, the schedule or list requirement is deleted. Thus, any criminal offence, which is a criminal offence in both Germany and Canada, is subject to the Treaty. In extradition, it is the substance of the crime, which is relevant, and therefore it is of no matter that the crimes may be described differently in each country. As long as the essential elements of the crime are similar, the crime is subject to the extradition process.

There are, of course, some exceptions. For instance, extradition will not be granted for “purely military” offences. Extradition may also be refused if the charge is purely politically motivated or if the charge merely persecutes the fugitive on the basis of race, religion, nationality or political opinion. Some offences are excluded from these exceptions, such as murder and kidnapping.  Also, if the fugitive is a national or a citizen of the country in which he or she is found, and is not therefore a national of the requesting country, the fugitive will not be produced to the requesting country, but prosecuted in the found country.

Additionally, extradition shall not be granted if the alleged fugitive has already been tried and acquitted for the crime or the fugitive has already completely served his or her sentence for the offence. A significant change from the 1979 Treaty is the treatment of situations of amnesty: now extradition may be refused if the fugitive was pardoned or received amnesty for the crime. In the 1979 Treaty, a fugitive was still subject to extradition in cases of amnesty.

Consistent with Charter decisions, the treaty suggests extradition “may be refused” should the crime be one for which the death penalty may be imposed where the other country does not impose the death penalty. However, a fugitive may be extradited, in those circumstances, where the requesting country agrees not to impose the death penalty.

A further possible ground for refusing extradition is on the basis of a conviction of an offence of “contumacy.” The term refers to a disobedience of a court order or a refusal to obey an order, such as a summons. An example would be where the accused failed to appear in court for his trial on a criminal matter and he was convicted in absentia or in the person’s absence. In this instance, extradition may be refused unless the requesting state agrees to permit the fugitive to test the underlying conviction as well. This safeguard ensures that the fugitive’s conviction will be proven properly, based on the facts and evidence and not on the basis of a mere failure to appear. 

There are also various procedures to be followed in requesting extradition under the Treaty. Previously, the request must come through diplomatic channels, but the 2004 amendments now requires the request to come from the respective departments of justice from each country, yet still permitting the use of diplomatic channels where appropriate.

Procedurally, documentation must be sent to support the request. Such information is required to establish the identity of the fugitive, a description of the crime alleged, and proof a warrant for arrest is outstanding. In certain circumstances, if required, information justifying the charges may be sent and presented as well. If the information provided is insufficient, instead of discharging the fugitive for want of prosecution, the state must now request the needed information from the requesting state.

When extradition is finally granted, the fugitive is surrendered to the requesting state’s authorities with the requesting state bearing all expenses of transport. This surrendering may be postponed if the fugitive faces charges in the surrendering state or the state may, as provided by the 2004 amendments, “temporarily” surrender the fugitive to be returned at a later date.

There is a further caveat to the extradition process, which is known as the “rule of specialty.” This rule requires that the fugitive be only tried in the requesting state for those crimes for which he was surrendered. He may face trial on no other charges. This requires particular attention by the requesting state to ensure that all appropriate charges are before the extradition court.

What does this all mean for the Magnotta case? Press reports have suggested Magnotta will be consenting to his surrender to Canada. Considering the provisions of the Treaty, the charges for which he faces, the fact he is a Canadian national, and the documentary evidence, which is readily available to be sent to Germany, Magnotta’s consent makes sense.  On extradition for this charge there appear to be no valid arguments, which could be raised, to stop his surrender to Canadian authorities. Even with consent, it will take some time before Magnotta will be sent back. Formal requests do still need to be made and certain documents are required to be sent and signed. Additionally, in light of the Treaty provisions, the Department of Justice will need to first complete the Canadian investigation to ensure Magnotta will be surrendered for all offences he might possibly face in Canada. Only then, will Magnotta return to face the real issues of guilt or innocence.

In Defence of Civil Disobedience: Part Two

In my previous posting, I outlined the historical significance of civil disobedience, tracing the creation of the phrase from Thoreau, who turned an innocuous poll tax into a deeply personal articulation of one’s beliefs, to the present iteration of collective disobedience against government policy. Today’s posting will take these concepts a step further into the legal realm.

The definition of “civil disobedience’ as found in Merriam-Webster’s dictionary, suggests the act is a “non-violent” form of group protest. This definition conjures up a vision of peaceful sign-bearing protesters, shouting slogans, and holding hands in solidarity before dispersing for a musical interlude and barbecue. This peaceful concept of civil disobedience no longer seems to fit the bill as today’s more complicated issues require a much higher shock quotient to get the attention of the media and then ultimately the government. Hand in hand with this more virulent form of disobedience is the more intransigent reaction by the government: as crowds shout “hell no, we wont go,” the government lawyers are busily drafting court applications for injunctive relief.

Injunctions, as I thoroughly discussed in my previous posting on the Occupy Movement, are a favoured response by the government as, if successful, results in a court imposed order for the disobedience to stop and then turns the protest into legally recognized unlawful conduct. This can have enormous repercussions as an injunction can not only effectively shut down any future protests, but can also provide legal precedent on the ultimate issue at stake: the fundamental freedoms protected under s. 2 of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms involving s.2 (b) freedom of expression rights, s. 2(c) freedom of peaceful assembly, and s. 2(d) freedom of association. As discussed in previous postings, the Charter is not absolute and the Courts try to balance societal rights with the individual freedoms found under section 2. As a result, although the Courts may find a violation of s. 2 rights by the government seeking an injunction, where societal harm or violence is caused, the Courts tend to find such injunctions a reasonable limit in a free and democratic society under s.1.

The government may also respond to civil disobedience through the criminal justice system. Typically, such response is reserved for the clearest examples of law breaking such as the destructive effects of a rioting crowd. In those cases, the law is most severe, imposing harsh sentences on those who destroy property and harm others under the flimsy disguise of a "cause".

Criminal contempt charges may also be laid when injunctions are not obeyed. This scenario is subtler as it does not involve harmful action but involves inaction: a failure to obey a law, which has been declared valid by the courts. The justice system deals with this form of disobedience slightly differently. Here again Charter violations may not provide a valid defence, but may be taken into account as a mitigating factor on sentence.

To raise a valid defence on a criminal charge arising out of civil disobedience is a challenge as any moral or ethical arguments for committing the prohibited acts do not change the essence of the crime committed. The best way to explain this is through the Robin Hood scenario. Robin Hood and his Merry Men stole from the rich to give to the poor. When we hear this story we usually give Robin the “thumbs up” for fighting against tyranny and greed. We also cheer as he takes the gold from evil King John, knowing that the good King Richard will absolve Robin of any guilt. But, in terms of criminal law, a bandit is a bandit no matter how you slice it. Although Robin Hood may have a valid moral argument for his actions and therefore an excellent motive for breaking the law, the law is clear: the guilt act and the guilty mind are present and therefore Robin Hood is guilty of highway robbery. He may receive a suspended sentence from a sympathetic court but he is still a convicted felon.

There is, however, a possible defence available. In Perka v. the Queen, the Supreme Court of Canada, when considering the common law defence of necessity, suggested such a defence may be a valid defence to acts of civil disobedience. In the necessity defence both the prohibited act or actus reus and the fault requirement or mens rea is complete. Therefore, all essential elements of the crime have been fulfilled and the defence merely excuses the blameworthy conduct.

Essentially, the accused acknowledges the wrongfulness of the action but in the circumstances the accused should not be punished for the crime. Excuses are typically limited to emergency situations wherein the accused had no choice but to break the law. As our criminal law punishes only those who choose to act criminally, an excuse can exonerate an accused of a crime. In the necessity scenario, the accused must choose between two evils.

However, such exoneration comes with a price: the defence of necessity is only accepted in certain, very limited circumstances. There are three elements to the necessity defence. Firstly, the accused must be facing imminent peril or danger. Secondly, there must be no reasonable legal alternative but for the accused to break the law. Thirdly, the harm inflicted by committing the crime must be proportional to the harm, which would have been caused if the accused followed the law and not committed the crime. As a result, necessity is rarely advanced and even rarely accepted as a valid defence. When it is accepted, the Court views the behaviour as a form of moral involuntariness.

How does the necessity defence work in practice where there are acts of civil disobedience? The best case examples are not from usually staid Canada, but in the protest fuelled United States. In the 1969 case of United States v. Moylan, the appellants were charged with the destruction of government records, records they seized from a government office and burned with napalm in protest of the Vietnam War. Counsel for the defence, the “radical lawyer” and activist William Kunstler, argued that the jury should have been instructed that they “had the power to acquit even if appellants were clearly guilty of the charged offenses.” This “right’ was based in moral arguments as the appellants were protesting a war “outrageous to their individual standards of humanity.” Furthermore, the war itself was illegal and therefore citizens had an obligation, in the name of justice, to break the law in order to enforce the law.

The United States Court of Appeals Fourth Circuit Judge Sobeloff, took a page from the Robin Hood myth and found no matter how sincere the appellants were in their actions, and no matter how strong their moral arguments were, they still committed crimes for which they must be accountable. In upholding the law Justice Sobeloff remarked:

To encourage individuals to make their own determinations as to which laws they will obey and which they will permit themselves as a matter of conscience to disobey is to invite chaos. No legal system could long survive if it gave every individual the option of disregarding with impunity any law, which by his personal standard was judged morally untenable. Toleration of such conduct would not be democratic, as appellants claim, but inevitably anarchic.

The best known case of a jury being invited by defence to eschew the law and decide a case on their own moral conscious, was in R. v. Morgentaler, when Morris Manning, Q.C. invited the jury to acquit Dr. Morgentaler of violating the "bad" abortion law. The Supreme Court of Canada chastised Manning for his emotional appeal, finding that such an invitation would “undermine and place at risk” the jury system. In support of this position, Chief Justice Dickson referred to the British 1784 criminal libel case of R. v. Shipley and quoted Lord Mansfield as follows:

So the jury who usurp the judicature of law, though they happen to be right, are themselves wrong, because they are right by chance only, and have not taken the constitutional way of deciding the question. It is the duty of the Judge, in all cases of general justice, to tell the jury how to do right, though they have it in their power to do wrong, which is a matter entirely between God and their own consciences.

To be free is to live under a government by law . . . . Miserable is the condition of individuals, dangerous is the condition of the State, if there is no certain law, or, which is the same thing, no certain administration of law, to protect individuals, or to guard the State.  ...

In opposition to this, what is contended for? -- That the law shall be, in every particular cause, what any twelve men, who shall happen to be the jury, shall be inclined to think; liable to no review, and subject to no control, under all the prejudices of the popular cry of the day, and under all the bias of interest in this town, where thousands, more or less, are concerned in the publication of newspapers, paragraphs, and pamphlets. Under such an administration of law, no man could tell, no counsel could advise, whether a paper was or was not punishable.

Certainly, it is valid to be fearful of a capricious jury who are guided by their own prejudices and sensibilities but there is an attraction to the ability of a jury to “do the right thing” and acquit in circumstances where the law is unjust, not just unfavourable, but unjust. When I was a student at Osgoode Law School in 1983, Morris Manning came to the school and reenacted his Morgnetaler jury address, an address which did result in an acquittal for the doctor. It was a moving piece of advocacy, which did stir the moral conscious. In the end, I was questioning the moral and legal basis for a law, which could send Dr. Morgentaler to jail. Ultimately the court system did work for Dr. Morgentaler, due to our Charter, the best defence against tyranny and injustice.

What does all of this mean for the ongoing student protests in Quebec? It is unclear where the Quebec government will go. Certainly the new laws they have introduced to stop further protest has only fueled more acts of civil disobedience. As with the occupy movement, these acts have gone viral and the issue has become one of students’ rights and the moral obligation to speak out against seemingly “bad” laws. However, to speak out against laws is much different than acting out criminally. It will ultimately be up to the Courts to draw the line between the two.

The Incivility of Civil Disobedience: Part One

Civil disobedience is a familiar phrase these days what with the Occupy movement occupying public space and now University students protesting higher tuition rates. The term “Civil Disobedience” was coined by American author, writer, poet, naturalist and all around polymath Henry David Thoreau as the title of an essay originally published in 1849 as "Resistance to Civil Government." At the time, Thoreau was the voice of a country struggling with itself, both politically and morally. His was a voice of reason but also one of deep moral principle. In 1846, Thoreau was arrested and imprisoned for a failure to pay his poll taxes. Poll taxes were levied on all eligible voters as a prerequisite of voting and were the main means of raising funds for local governments. The poll tax, which anti-slavery abolitionists like Thoreau refused to pay, was levied to fund the Mexican War in a bid to extend American slave territories. The amount of the tax, even at that time a paltry $1.50, was viewed by Thoreau as too high a moral price to pay. Although his Aunt, against his wishes, paid the fee and Thoreau was released after only one night in jail, his essay on the experience remains today the first in a line of many personal actions of civil disobedience. I say “personal” as there was already an American example of group disobedience in the form of the famous Boston Tea Party, an act of disobedience heard across the ocean by King George III and the British Parliament.

Martin Luther King Jr., in another example of personal disobedience to the law, would also pen a famous piece of prose in the Letter from the Birmingham Jail. In this acerbic response to his critics, King tackles head on the moral and ethical issue of obeying “just” and “unjust” laws. To support his actions, King refers to St. Augustine’s position that an “unjust law is no law at all.” He also uses as a stark analogy the ultimate “unjust” laws of Nazi Germany. The letter became a touchstone for the civil rights movement and the idea that morally “unjust” laws should not and could not be followed became a permanent fixture in the American psyche.

Unsurprisingly, in Canada, acts of civil disobedience have been most pronounced in Aboriginal rights issues such as in the Burnt Church conflict involving the traditional fishing rights of the Mikmaq nation of Atlantic Canada. Another high profile case of civil disobedience was the Ipperwash Crisis and the police shooting death of Native activist, Dudley George.  Of course, more recently, the Occupy Movement is another example of collective disobedience. Canadians even have a “how-to” book for such practices with the Protestors’ Guide to the Law of Civil Disobedience in British Columbia. This document is easily accessible on-line and is written by Leo McGrady Q.C., a well-known BC lawyer specializing, on the union/employee side, in labour relations. No surprise, as BC has seen more than its share of civil unrest relating to teacher labour issues. Read my previous blog on the Legal Politics of Seussville for more on the issue.

With this little history lesson, my next posting will deal with the legal aspects of civil disobedience. How have the Courts reacted to this issue? Is the Charter engaged when acts of civil disobedience are stopped? And finally, what kind of legal defences are available when such acts become subject to the criminal courts?

The Pridgen Case: An University Is Not A Charter-free Zone

As predicted, the Alberta Court of Appeal unanimously upheld the lower Court’s decision in the Pridgen case, agreeing the University’s Academic Council was unreasonable when they disciplined the Pridgen brothers for the less than polite remarks made about their University professor on their Facebook page. For details of the Alberta Queens Bench decision see my earlier posting of the issue here.

Although the result is not surprising, what is a disappointment is the lack of unanimity on the issue of the application of the Charter. Only Madame Justice Paperny tackled the issue of the Charter, the other two concurring Justices preferred to decide the issue on administrative law alone. Even so, Justice Paperny’s excellent analysis, should give the University some pause for thought as she emphasized the absurdity of the University’s position, which would make the University, a bastion of learning and free thought, a “Charter-free zone.” Clearly, the University’s reluctance to allow the Charter into the hallowed halls of learning irked Madame Paperny and so it should us all: a place that teaches the precepts of the Charter should be ruled by it.

In any event, the question of the Charter applying involves an argument over the breadth of the authority of the Charter. Under section 32 of the Charter, the statute governs the relationship between the government and the individual only and does not cover private relationships. Thus, the University, tried to distance itself from Charter requirements by characterizing the student/University relationship as a contractual one between two private parties. Of course, as pointed out by Justice Paperny, the University’s relationship with students is not a mere contractual one. Additionally, the University is far from a private institution as it receives government funds and fulfills government policy. Indeed, there would be no need for the Minister of Advanced Education if the government were not truly a partner in post-secondary education.

Once a determination is made that the Charter does apply, it then becomes difficult to suggest the Pridgen twins did not have a right to express themselves under s. 2(b) on the issue of professor performance or, shall we say, the lack of performance. Granted their comments were not “nice” but they fell well short of defamation and were in the realm of fair comment and fair complaint.

One wonders how the Pridgen scenario differs from the kind of student evaluations done under the auspices of the University. Feedback forms include an area for comments on the teacher. The only difference is the ability for the comments to be viewed by others who have access to the Facebook page. However, can that factor alone attract such harsh consequences? Thankfully, the Court of Appeal said “no” but unfortunately, the full court did not go the extra step and embrace the Charter, and the values for which the Charter stands, by finding the University is not a Charter-free zone.