Guest Column by Darrell Dunn, Publisher, The Weekly Bean.
Last week, a first-degree murder trial in Newfoundland was delayed for a reason that would be
laughable if it were not so serious: there were not enough sheriff’s officers available to bring the
accused to court. Not a legal technicality. Not a sudden blizzard. Not an unexpected medical
emergency. Simply a shortage of staff in a system that has been chronically underfunded for
years.
Justice Vikas Khaladkar did not mince words, describing the situation as a “deplorable state of
affairs.” He was right. It is deplorable when a justice system in a modern democracy cannot
perform its most basic function—holding court—because it lacks the personnel to move an
accused person from a holding cell to a courtroom.
But perhaps the most telling reaction came from lawyer Lynn Moore, a former Crown attorney,
who said she was not surprised by the delay. Not surprised. That phrase alone should set off
alarm bells. When experienced legal professionals begin to treat system failures as routine, we
have moved beyond isolated problems and into institutional decay.
Moore described justice as the “poor cousin” of government, the last department to receive
resources. That characterization is painfully accurate. Governments are eager to fund projects
that produce ribbon cuttings, photo opportunities, and visible infrastructure. Roads get paved.
Buildings get constructed. Announcements get made. Justice, by contrast, operates quietly in the
background—until it fails. And by the time it fails, the consequences are public, costly, and
sometimes irreversible.
The issue is not new. According to those working inside the system, the problem has been
building for decades. Staffing shortages among Crown attorneys, sheriff’s officers, and court
clerks have created a fragile structure that can be disrupted by the loss of even a single employee.
Meanwhile, the complexity of criminal cases has increased dramatically. More disclosure
requirements, more documentation, and more procedural safeguards—each necessary for
fairness—have added layers of work without a corresponding increase in resources. The result is predictable: delays. And delays in the justice system are not merely inconvenient. They are dangerous.
Under the Supreme Court of Canada’s Jordan decision, criminal cases must proceed within strict
timelines. If those timelines are exceeded without adequate justification, charges can be
stayed—meaning the case is dismissed regardless of the evidence. In practical terms, that means
a serious criminal charge, even one involving violence or death, can collapse because the system
itself failed to move the case forward.
Let that sink in.
A case should be decided on its merits—on the evidence, the testimony, and the law—not on
whether there were enough staff members available to unlock a door or process paperwork.
When institutional delays threaten the outcome of serious criminal trials, public confidence in the
justice system erodes. Victims lose faith. Accused persons face prolonged uncertainty.
Communities begin to question whether justice is truly being served.
And yet, year after year, justice funding remains an afterthought.
It is tempting for governments to view justice as an expense rather than an investment. Court
staff, prosecutors, and sheriffs do not generate revenue. They do not produce visible
infrastructure. But they provide something far more valuable: stability. The rule of law is the
foundation on which every other public service depends. Without a functioning justice system,
contracts cannot be enforced, crimes cannot be prosecuted, and rights cannot be protected.
Underfunding justice is not a cost-saving measure. It is a deferred liability.
Eventually, the bill comes due—in delayed trials, dismissed charges, and shaken public
confidence.
The solution is neither mysterious nor complicated. Courts need adequate staffing. Prosecutors
need manageable workloads. Facilities need modern technology. Retention strategies must
address the reality that legal professionals are leaving public service because the demands are
high and the support is insufficient.
Most importantly, governments must recognize that justice is not optional.
It is not a luxury to be funded when budgets allow. It is not a secondary priority behind more
visible programs. It is a core function of government—one that must be maintained with the
same seriousness as policing, healthcare, and public safety.
Because when the justice system begins to disintegrate, the consequences do not remain confined
to the courtroom.
They spread to every corner of society.
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