DOES CANADIAN JUSTICE HAVE A PRICE?

 

Can Justice Be Bought?

The recent contrast between the prosecution of Tamara Lich and the collapse of Project Cobra raises a difficult question: is Canadian justice equally accessible to all—or does money and politics determine who wins and who loses?

The Tamara Lich Case: Process as Punishment

Tamara Lich, organizer of the 2022 Freedom Convoy, was arrested in February 2022 and charged with mischief. Ordinarily, a mischief case is a minor matter resolved quickly. Instead, her trial lasted 45 days—the longest mischief trial in Canadian history. Crown prosecutors treated the case as symbolic, marshalling dozens of witnesses, videos, and residents’ testimony. Defence fought every step, resulting in staggering legal bills of roughly $750,000 by 2025. The Crown reportedly spent over $5 million.

The sheer cost raises eyebrows. How many ordinary Canadians could afford to fight such a case? For most, the financial pressure alone would force a guilty plea. For Lich, fundraising and public support enabled her to contest. In this sense, the process itself became a punishment—regardless of the eventual sentence.

Project Cobra: When Defence Resources Tip the Scales

Project Cobra, launched in 2020, was a sweeping drug investigation across Alberta and Ontario. Police seized an estimated $55 million in narcotics, firearms, and luxury assets. On paper, these were among the most serious charges possible—multi-kilogram trafficking, proceeds of crime, organized crime links.

Yet in 2024–25, Crown prosecutors quietly stayed charges against several alleged leaders. The official reason? None given. Insiders suggested disclosure obligations—rules requiring the Crown to reveal its methods and evidence—would expose sensitive investigative practices. Faced with defence pressure, the Crown blinked. Despite the scale of the alleged crimes, the prosecutions collapsed.

Two-Track Justice

Together, these cases illustrate a troubling pattern. For protest leaders like Lich, the Crown spares no expense, while defendants face crushing personal costs. For organized crime suspects, deep-pocketed defences can sometimes unravel prosecutions altogether.

Legal scholars often call this a two-tier justice system:
• Tier 1: Ordinary citizens, limited to legal aid or modest means, often plead guilty quickly.
• Tier 2: Well-funded defendants (corporate, organized crime, or political cases) can mount sprawling defences, sometimes overwhelming the system.

The principle of equality before the law is written into our system. But in practice, money buys time, expertise, and resilience—and sometimes it buys freedom.

The Bigger Question

If a mischief case can cost three-quarters of a million dollars to defend, how accessible is justice to the average Canadian? And if major drug prosecutions collapse because the state is unwilling to bear the cost of disclosure, what does that say about public safety?

The uncomfortable answer is that justice in Canada is not blind to resources. It may not always be outright corruption, but the ability to pay for defence—or the willingness of the state to spend millions—can determine the outcome.

Can justice be bought? In theory, no. In practice, the evidence from recent cases suggests that money and politics play a greater role than most Canadians would like to admit.