684: Common Sense and Constitutional

PC was charged with manslaughter. During his trial, he was assisted by two legal-aid lawyers and an interpreter. He was convicted. PC filed notice that he would appeal his conviction, but was not granted additional legal aid on the grounds that his appeal lacked merit. He then brought a motion to have counsel appointed for him to facilitate his appeal, pursuant to s. 684(1) of the Criminal Code. The Crown argued such an appointment would not be “desirable in the interests of justice” because PC did not demonstrate his appeal possessed arguable merit. The motions judge dismissed PC’s application. PC responded by challenging the constitutionality of s. 684: 2014 ONCA 577.

PC argued that because persons who can afford to hire counsel can do so whether or not their appeal has merit, indignant accused persons should have the same right under s. 7, s. 10(b), s. 11 and s.15 of the Charter [para 3].

The Court of Appeal rejected PC’s Charter arguments for two reasons:

First, the Court found the Charter does not require an automatic right to publicly funded counsel for appellate purposes, and that s. 684 is an ameliorative program that falls within s. 15(2) of the Charter. PC’s challenge on the basis of s.15 was dismissed [para 11-14].

Second, the court found that ss. 7, s. 10(b) and s. 11 work in tandem to ensure an accused person is always treated fairly, from the point of arrest or detention through to the end of an adjudicative process [paras 16-19]. This includes the appeals process.

In the context of a trial, fairness will sometimes require that counsel be appointed where provincial legal aid has been denied: R v Rowbotham, 25 OAC 321 [para 20].

In the context of an appeal, the Court concluded that if the following criterion is satisfied, fairness will be ensured:

  1. The accused has a full and fair opportunity to exercise any right of appeal, and
  2. The accused is able to effectively present their appeal.

Concerning the first criteria, the court noted that in exceptional circumstances, counsel may need to be appointed to assist an accused in ascertaining whether or not grounds for an appeal exist. A motions judge can appoint counsel for this limited purpose [para 27].

Concerning the second criteria, once a ground of an appeal has been ascertained, for the purposes of effectively presenting the appeal, the appeal must be arguable. The court found that it is common sense to conclude that “appeals which are void of merit will not be helped by the appointment of counsel”: R v Bernardo, 105 OAC 244 [para 29]. An aspect of “rational objectivity” must be imported in order to balance the interests of the accused and the state. Requiring an accused to demonstrate that an arguable appeal exists does not treat the accused unfairly [para 30].  

After articulating these criteria, the Court then highlighted four additional aspects of s. 684 that demonstrate why it withstands constitutional scrutiny:

First, the fact that legal aid has been refused is not determinative of whether or not the “interests of justice” require counsel to be appointed [para 31].

Second, the cost of assigning counsel cannot influence a Court’s determination under s. 684, because these costs are to be accepted as “the price of the proper administration of justice”: Bernardo, supra [para 31].

Third, an indignant accused almost always has the assistance of duty counsel or legal aid to argue a s. 684 motion. Here, the Court went further and commented that this assistance may also include the preparation of an affidavit, which outlines whether an accused can meaningfully exercise his right of appeal, and effectively present it, with reference to relevant considerations such as:

  • the accused’s means,
  • the seriousness of the charge of which the accused was convicted,
  • the sentence received,
  • age,
  • youthfulness,
  • education,
  • ability to speak, understand and write English or French,
  • disability,
  • familiarity or lack thereof with the criminal justice system,
  • the length of the trial,
  • the complexity of the appeal, and
  • the legal principles engaged and the appellants ability or lack theory to effectively relate them to the facts of the case [paras 33-34].

Fourth, a decision on a motion pursuant to s. 684 is not a final one. An accused may seek a panel review of a refusal, or renew an application with the benefit of an expanded record following trial [para 35].

For these reasons, PC’s challenge on the basis of ss. 7, 10(b) and 11 was dismissed.

The Court of Appeal upheld s. 684 of the Criminal Code as constitutional. However, the Court did note that a renewed application in PC’s case could succeed on the basis of the newly expanded record (which included a full consideration of his age at the time of conviction, the seriousness of the crime, his inability to communicate in English except through an interpreter, and his lack of familiarly with the legal system and its principles) [para 35].

SS

Constitutional Jurisdiction

Joseph Lloyd was convicted of three counts of possession of drugs for the purpose, contrary to section 5(2) of the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act [CDSA].  Lloyd had a prior conviction under the same section; as a result, he faced a mandatory minimum of one year.

Lloyd argued that the one-year mandatory minimum violated section 12. The sentencing judge held that the minimum did not violate section 12 as it related to Lloyd but went on to consider whether the provision would violate section 12 in a reasonable hypothetical. The court found that it did. As a result, the court “declared” that the provision was invalid.

The Crown appealed: 2014 BCCA 224.

Two aspects of the appeal are quite interesting.

First, the court considered the jurisdiction of the provincial court to consider the constitutionality of provisions.

In this context, the court noted that while a provincial court has the jurisdiction to consider any constitutional impact of a provision on the offender before it, any ruling is limited in its application to the present case. The court has no jurisdiction to make a general declaration of invalidity: “the judge in this case did, indeed, intended to make a formal declaration that the impugned provision was of no force and effect. He had no jurisdiction to make such a declaration, and, assuming that he was right to have found the impugned provision to be unconstitutional, ought to have confined himself to refusing to apply it in the case before him. I would set aside the declaration” [para 38].

Second, the court considered the proper scope of constitutional consideration by a provincial court.

In this context the court noted two points. One, in light of the fact that a provincial court ruling on the constitutionality of a provision is limited to the case before it, any consideration of the constitutionality in the context of a reasonable hypothetical might be unnecessary and inappropriate. Two, based on the more general principle that courts should restrict their rulings to the case before them it was, in the present case, inappropriate for the court to strike down the provision on the basis of a reasonable hypothetical.

The fact that a party has standing to make a constitutional argument, however, does not compel a court to rule on that argument. There is a general (though not invariable) principle that courts avoid making constitutional pronouncements when cases can be decided on less esoteric bases. Professor Hogg puts it this way:
A case that is properly before a court may be capable of decision on a non-constitutional ground or a constitutional ground or both. The course of judicial restraint is to decide the case on the non-constitutional ground. That way, the dispute between the litigants is resolved, but the impact of a constitutional decision on the powers of the legislative or executive branches of government is avoided. For the same reason, if a case can be decided on a narrow constitutional ground or a wide ground, the narrow ground is to be preferred. If a case can be decided on a rule of federalism or under the Charter, the federalism ground is the narrower one, because it leaves the other level of government free to act, whereas a Charter decision striking down a law does not. The general idea is that a proper deference to the other branches of government makes it wise for the courts, as far as possible, to frame their decisions in ways that do not intrude gratuitously on the powers of the other branches.
Peter W. Hogg, Constitutional Law of Canada (5th ed. supplemented) (looseleaf) Toronto: Thomson Carswell, 2007 (updated to 2013), §59.5, p. 59-22
In short, while Mr. Lloyd clearly had standing to challenge the validity of s. 5(3)(a)(i)(D) of the CDSA, the court was not obliged to determine that issue unless that section would have an impact on the appropriate sentence for Mr. Lloyd.
Mr. Lloyd contends that the court is required to determine the constitutionality of s. 5(3)(a)(i)(D), because "no one may be sentenced under an unconstitutional law". While there is some merit in that contention, I do not think that it can be said that Mr. Lloyd would be "sentenced under an unconstitutional law" unless that law in some way affects his sentence. Before embarking on the constitutional inquiry, therefore, the court should consider whether the impugned provision would have any effect on the sentence to be imposed. [Paras 42-44].

Lloyd is an interesting and helpful decision. Interesting in its consideration of reliance upon a reasonable hypothetical in the context of section 12. As per Lloyd, where a provision would have no possible impact on the present offender reliance on a reasonable hypothetical may be unnecessary. Helpful in that it reminds that provincial courts are limited in their constitutional powers to making a finding about the force and effect of a provision to the case before them; there is no power to make general declarations of constitutional invalidity. 

DGM

USB Key Searches

In recent years a steady stream of authority from the Supreme Court of Canada has made clear that specific prior judicial authorization is required to search a personal computer. The most recent example is the decision of the Supreme Court of Canada in R v Vu, [2013] 3 SCR 657, 2013 SCC 60 (CanLII), which held that computers found while carrying out a search cannot be searched unless specifically authorized by a search warrant.

The Court in R v Vu seemed to leave the door open to the possibility that specific prior judicial authorization might not be required when electronic devices that are mere containers are discovered during a search—items such as USB keys, memory cards for cameras, and similar devices.

The Ontario Court of Appeal appears to have closed the door in R v Tuduce, 2014 ONCA 547 (CanLII).

The analysis in R v Vu

Much of the analysis in R v Vu focused on the difference between a computer and a “receptacle.”

A search warrant issued under s. 487 of the Criminal Code may authorize police officers to search “a building, receptacle or place” for the items named in the warrant, and to seize the items in evidence.  A warrant that authorizes police to search a particular place—such as a house—also authorizes police to search places and receptacles within that house. However, the Supreme Court of Canada in R v Vu ruled that this general principle does not apply to computers. The Court held that ordinary receptacles such as cupboards and filing cabinets are markedly different from personal computers, and that specific prior authorization is required to search a computer.

The Court stated four reasons why computers are markedly different from other receptacles:

  • Computers store immense amounts of information. The scale and variety of the material that can be found on a computer makes comparison with traditional receptacles unrealistic.
  • Computers contain information that is automatically generated, often unbeknownst to the user. A computer is a “fastidious recordkeeper” that documents when and by whom a file was created and accessed; logs a user’s Internet browsing habits; and stores the user’s search histories. In the context of a criminal investigation this data can enable investigators to access intimate details about a user’s interests, habits, and identity, drawing on a record that the user created unwittingly. This kind of information has no analogue to other types of receptacles found in the physical world.
  • A computer retains files and data even after users think that they have destroyed them. It creates information without a user’s knowledge, and retains information that the user has tried to erase.
  • A search of a computer connected to the Internet or a network gives access to information and documents that are not in any meaningful sense at the location for which the search is authorized. [@ paras 41-44]

The Court concluded:

These numerous and striking differences between computers and traditional "receptacles" call for distinctive treatment under s. 8 of the Charter. The animating assumption of the traditional rule -- that if the search of a place is justified, so is the search of receptacles found within it -- simply cannot apply with respect to computer searches. [@ para 45]

The above analysis merits two comments. First, none of the four differences discussed in R v Vu is unique to a computer. A traditional receptacle like a filing cabinet, bookcase, or a banker’s box full of papers is also capable of storing a large volume of information. In any event, the volume of information could not have been determinative. It has never been the case that police searching a building would be entitled to search one or two filing cabinets, but would need a search warrant if they happened to find one hundred filing cabinets. A physical document like a log book, leger, or photo album can retain physical evidence (such as fingerprints and DNA) that could enable an expert to identify exactly what pages had been accessed, and by whom. Firing a gun generates new data unbeknownst to the user, such as firing pin marks, bullet striations, and ejector marks. It has always been true that the search of one place can reveal another building, receptacle, or place, including the exact address and the keys or combination needed to access it. However, a charitable reading of the Court’s analysis should not parse the differences in this manner. It is not any one of the differences on its own, but rather the totality of the differences and their magnitude in combination that justifies the different treatment of a computer.

Second, it was not obvious how the analysis in R v Vu would apply to an electronic device that functions exclusively as a storage container. A floppy disk, USB key, or flash memory card does not have its own operating system, does not generate data, and unless it is connected to a computer it cannot connect to a network or the Internet. Most of the differences in R v Vu did not appear to apply to an electronic device that is more like a container than a computer. Thus, R v Vu appeared to leave the door open to the possibility that specific prior judicial authorization might not be required when electronic devices that are mere containers are discovered during a search.

The decision in R v Tuduce

In R v Tuduce, 2014 ONCA 547 (CanLII), the Ontario Court of Appeal considered the warrantless search of a USB key that was seized incidental to an arrest.

In 2012 Adrian Tuduce was convicted of seven credit card fraud-related offences and sentenced to two years less a day’s imprisonment and two years of probation. His participation in the fraud was discovered by accident. A Waterloo Regional Police officer pulled Mr. Tuduce over for speeding. The officer searched Mr. Tuduce on police databases and discovered he was a suspended driver. The officer arrested Mr. Tuduce and conducted a pat-down search, locating USB key and bundle of credits cards in someone else’s name. The officer found other items in the vehicle that caused him to believe Mr. Tuduce was in possession of stolen credit cards. Fraud investigators seized the USB key incidental to arrest and submitted it for forensic analysis. The USB key contained stolen credit card data and photographs of credit card data skimming equipment.

The trial judge held that the warrantless search of the USB key infringed Mr. Tuduce’s s. 8 Charter rights, but admitted the evidence under s. 24(2): 2011 ONSC 2749 (CanLII).

On appeal, Mr. Tuduce challenged the trial judge’s decision to admit the USB key evidence under s. 24(2). The appeal was dismissed: 2014 ONCA 547 (CanLII).

The Court noted that the Supreme Court of Canada in R v Vu reviewed the privacy considerations that apply to searches of personal computers and held that they apply to USB keys, for three reasons:

  • A USB key can store a significant amount of data.
  • Data can be left on a USB key without a user’s knowledge, including information about the date and time a file was created or modified, and information about the user who created or modified the file.
  • A user does not have complete control over which files an investigator will be able to find on a USB key because—like a computer hard drive—the unallocated space in USB key may contain files that could be retrieved by a forensic expert. [@ paras 71-73]

The Court commented that a USB key may not contain personal information such as a list of contacts, the contents of past communications, and information a user’s web searching habit. This makes a USB key different from a home computer or cell phone. On the other hand, a USB key will attract a greater expectation of privacy than a work computer. This is because the two factors that diminish the expectation of privacy in a work computer—that the computer is not actually owned by the user, and the employee’s use of the computer is often subject to terms and conditions imposed by the employer—do not apply to personal storage devices like a USB key. [@ paras 74-75]

Strictly speaking, the Court of Appeal did not rule that specific, prior judicial authorization is required to search a USB key. That is because the trial judge’s ruling on the lawfulness of the search was favourable to Mr. Tuduce and therefore not a ground of appeal.

However, the broader implication of the decision cannot be ignored. The Supreme Court of Canada in R v Vu concluded that certain factors make a computer markedly different from other things that can be searched; and that specific, prior judicial authorization is therefore required to search a computer. The Ontario Court of Appeal in R v Tuduce held that the factors cited in R v Vu also apply to a USB key. This analysis leaves little doubt about how it would have ruled, had the s. 8 issue been properly before it.

The decision of the Ontario Court of Appeal in R v Tuduce is the strongest possible signal that absent exigent circumstances, police will require specific, prior judicial authorization before searching a USB key.

MGM

The views expressed in this post are those of the author, and do not necessarily represent the views or policy of the Ministry of the Attorney General.

New & Notable: Illustrating the need for 24(2)

TGH sexually abused his step-son and step-daughter when they were children. The abuse spanned a period of 10 years. The abuse included acts of oral and anal sex that would give the step-son a direct view of TGH’s anal area. The step-son reported to police (and later testified at trial) that TGH had a flap of skin or “skin tag” over his anus. The step-son provided a detailed description of the skin tag, including its approximate size, appearance, and location.

TGH was arrested, provided with his right to counsel, interviewed, and ultimately released from custody. Ten months later the detective in charge of the case obtained a general warrant pursuant to section 487.01 of the Criminal Code, authorizing her to take TGH to a hospital, examine his anal area, and if a skin tag was found to photograph it. The detective attended TGH’s home and showed him the warrant. She did not advise TGH of his right to counsel when she detained him, or at any time during the execution of the warrant. TGH was brought to the hospital where he was told to bend over or lie on the bed and spread his buttocks. The detective observed a skin tag near TGH’s anus and took three photographs.

At trial the accused applied to exclude the evidence of TGH’s skin tag pursuant to section 24(2) of the Charter, on three grounds:

  1. The search in this case interfered with the bodily integrity of TGH, and consequently was outside of the scope of the general warrant provisions of the Criminal Code, thereby breaching his rights under s. 8.
  2. The search was not carried out in a reasonable manner, in that the detective required TGH to spread his buttocks, which was not expressly authorized by the warrant, thereby breaching his rights under s. 8.
  3. The detective did not advise TGH of his right to counsel when she detained him and brought him to the hospital to be examined, thereby breaching his right to counsel under s. 10(b).

The trial judge found that TGH’s Charter rights were not breached and admitted the evidence: [2012] OJ No 6478 (SCJ).

On appeal, TGH raised only the second and third ground. The Ontario Court of Appeal ruled that the search was carried out in a reasonable manner and no s. 8 breach occurred. The court found that TGH’s s. 10(b) rights were breached, but admitted the evidence under s. 24(2). In the result, the appeal from conviction was dismissed: 2014 ONCA 460 

The search was carried out in a reasonable manner

The Court of Appeal acknowledged that the search authorized by the general warrant was “invasive under any definition of that word,” and agreed that the powers granted to police by such a warrant should be both carefully delineated and narrowly construed [para. 47].

Nevertheless, the Court held that a warrant authorizing police to view a part of a person’s body necessarily includes positioning or bodily movements that allow a full viewing:

Setting aside intrusive measures that could compromise bodily integrity and, therefore, exceed the scope of a general warrant, I regard the authority to view a part of a person’s body as necessarily including positioning or bodily movements so as to allow a full viewing.  For example, if the police were authorized to view the area under a person’s arm for the presence of a tattoo, I have no doubt that the warrant would empower the police to require the subject to lift his arm.  The requirement that the appellant spread his buttocks, while no doubt more embarrassing than lifting one’s arm, is qualitatively no different for the purposes of assessing the reasonableness of the manner in which the police executed the warrant.  [para 48]

Police were required to advise TGH of his right to counsel upon detention

It was not in dispute that TGH was detained when the detective attended his house, showed him the general warrant, and brought him to the hospital to be examined. The arguments on appeal focused on whether, having complied with the right to counsel at the time of initial arrest, a second right to counsel warning was required when TGH was detained 10 months later for the purpose of executing the general warrant.

The Supreme Court of Canada in R v Sinclair, 2010 SCC 35 (CanLII), held that in most cases an initial warning, coupled with a reasonable opportunity to consult counsel when the detainee invokes the right, satisfies s. 10(b) [para 2].

The Ontario Court of Appeal disagreed that this principle relieved police of the obligation to provide the right to counsel when TGH was detained for the purpose of executing the general warrant.

First, the Court held that the facts of this case were distinguishable from Sinclair because there were two different detentions separated by a significant period time:

I do not think Sinclair supports the trial judge’s holding that the police were not obliged to advise the appellant of his s. 10(b) rights.  I come to that conclusion for two reasons.  First, the principle enunciated in Sinclair assumes a single ongoing detention and speaks to situations in which the police are obliged to repeat the detainee’s s. 10(b) rights in the course of that single detention.  In my view, Sinclair has no application to a situation like this where the appellant was arrested, advised of his s. 10(b) rights as required, released, and then some 10 months later detained for the purpose of executing the general warrant.  The initial detention upon arrest in January 2011 and the subsequent detention for the purpose of executing the warrant in October 2011 were entirely distinct from each other and must be treated as such for the purposes of s. 10(b).  The question raised on these facts is not whether the police were required to restate the appellant’s s. 10(b) rights in the course of his detention, but rather whether they were required to comply with s. 10(b) when they detained the appellant for a second time many months after the initial detention. [para 37]

Second, the Court held that, in any event, Sinclair requires police to provide the right to counsel a second time when the circumstances are such that the purpose animating the right to counsel requires a repetition of the s. 10(b) rights:

Even if I am wrong and the principle in Sinclair does apply, the appellant’s detention in October 2011 for the purpose of executing the general warrant falls squarely within one category of cases that Sinclair recognizes as requiring a second compliance with s. 10(b).  As Sinclair explains, at para. 50:
The initial advice of legal counsel will be geared to the expectation that the police will seek to question the detainee.  Non-routine procedures, like participation in a line-up or submitting to a polygraph, will not generally fall within the expectation of the advising lawyer at the time of the initial consultation.  It follows that to fulfill the purpose of s. 10(b) of providing the detainee with information necessary to make a meaningful choice about whether to cooperate in these new procedures, further advice from counsel is necessary. [Citation omitted; emphasis added.]
The examination authorized by the general warrant was about as far from a “routine procedure” as one could get.  No one would suggest that the appellant’s lawyer, when he was advising the appellant at the time of his arrest, could have anticipated an order in the terms of the general warrant and given the appellant the appropriate advice.  It also is irrelevant that the appellant was required to comply with the warrant and that any advice he might have received from his lawyer would not have altered that reality.  The appellant was entitled to legal advice even if that advice left him with few, if any, options other than compliance.  The appellant was entitled to legal advice about the scope of the warrant and exactly what he had to do or, more importantly, not do, to comply with the warrant.  In any event, and assuming the lawyer could do nothing other than tell the appellant to comply with the warrant, that advice could be important in that a reasonable detainee, in the appellant’s position, might well refuse to allow the police to do what the warrant authorized.  Without proper legal advice, a detainee might well refuse to cooperate and find himself in further difficulty with the law. [paras 39-40]

The absence of a causal connection and the nature of the allegations were factors supporting admission of the evidence under s. 24(2)

In its s. 24(2) analysis the Court first noted the absence of a causal connection between the Charter breach and the evidence that was obtained. However, the evidence could still be excluded under s. 24(2) because there was a “clear temporal and transaction link between the breach, the execution of the warrant, and the retrieval of the evidence.” In this case the link was sufficient to trigger the exclusionary power of s. 24(2) [para 52].

Regarding the seriousness of the breach, the Court noted that the detective treated TGH with respect and dignity during the search procedure. Her conduct did not require a court to dissociate itself from the evidentiary fruit of her conduct [para 57]. The seriousness of the breach was also reduced because the detective did not question TGH, thus respecting his right to silence [para 56].

The Court concluded that the impact of the breach on the Charter-protected interests of the accused was tempered by two factors.

First, the police did not attempt to take advantage of the absence of legal advice by attempting to elicit incriminating evidence from the appellant in the form of admissions or other statements [para 59].

Second, there was no causal connection between the breach of TGH’s right to silence and the evidence obtained. Nothing suggested that anything a lawyer may have said would have altered the course of the police conduct:

The police would have taken the appellant to the hospital, executed the warrant as they were entitled to do and the photographs would have been taken.  The absence of any causal connection between the breach of s. 10(b) and the obtaining of the challenged evidence leads me to conclude that the evidence would have been available even if the police had complied with s. 10(b).  This diminishes, to some degree, the significance of the breach on the appellant’s Charter-protected interests: R. v. Côté, 2011 SCC 46, [2011] 3 S.C.R. 215, at paras. 69-74; R. v. MacMillan, 2013 ONCA 109, 296 C.C.C. (3d) 277, at paras. 67-72. [para 60]

Finally, the Court held that society’s interest in an adjudication on the merits strongly favoured admission of the evidence. This was true, firstly, because the evidence was reliable.

The Court went further and held that the availability of reliable evidence capable of corroborating the complainants had additional significance in a trial of historical sexual assault allegations:

The negative impact on the administration of justice when reliable evidence is excluded is arguably particularly significant in cases involving allegations of historical sexual assaults.  In many of those cases, there is little evidence independent of the complainant’s allegations and the accused’s denials.  The outcome often turns on difficult credibility assessments.  The availability of independent reliable evidence can be important to the maintenance of confidence in the administration of justice in this kind of case.  To exclude that kind of evidence under s. 24(2) runs a real risk of bringing the administration of justice into disrepute. [para 62]

In the result the Court concluded that the observations and photographs of TGH’s anal area were admissible under s. 24(2).

MGM

New & Notable: Privacy of Anonymity Protected

In a blog posting on February 11, 2013 Brian Holowka discussed the case of Matthew Spencer – a case decided by the Saskatchewan Court of Appeal: 2011 SKCA 144 – which dealt with the issue of whether persons have a reasonable expectation of privacy in their personal identifiers held by their ISP company.

Today the Supreme Court released its ruling on appeal from that decision: 2014 SCC 43. In short, it held that Spencer did have a reasonable expectation of privacy in his name and other personal identifiers as held by his ISP, Shaw Communications, that related to the IP address linked to his computer.

The facts – as set out in the previous post – may be succinctly summarized as follows:

Matthew Spencer used a popular file-sharing program called “LimeWire” to obtain a large number of files containing child pornography. He kept these files in a shared folder on his computer. Others similar users of the file-sharing program could view and download these files.

An officer with the Saskatoon Police Service used the “LimeWire” program and discovered the child pornography files in this shared folder. The IP address associated with the computer hosting the shared folder was publicly available and easily ascertainable by the police. The police wrote to Shaw Communications, the ISP, requesting the customer information associated with the IP address at the date and time relevant to the discovery. This kind of information is often referred to as customer name and address or CNA. The request was made pursuant to the Personal Information Protection and Electronic Documents Act (PIPEDA).

Shaw complied with the PIPEDA request and armed with this information, the police obtained a search warrant to search the home. The computer was located, seized and searched. Child pornography was located on the hard drive of the computer.

On appeal the Court considered whether Spencer had a reasonable expectation of privacy. That consideration began by determining his subjective expectation which was driven by two considerations: (i) the subject matter of the search; and (ii) the nature of the privacy interest potentially compromised.

With respect to the subject matter, the court noted that in some cases this is easily discerned, in others it is more nuanced and complex. In this case, the determination of the subject matter fell into the latter category and in such cases the court should take “a broad and functional approach to the question, examining the connection between the police investigative technique and the privacy interest at stake” [para 26]. In doing so courts should looked “not only the nature of the precise information sought, but also at the nature of the information that it reveals” [emphasis added]; [para 26].

Put another way, the Court held that courts should not look “narrowly at physical acts involved but should consider the nature of the privacy interest impact: para 31.

In the present case the Court concluded on this point with the following:

The subject matter of the search was not simply a name and address of someone in a contractual relationship with Shaw. Rather, it was the identity of an Internet subscriber which corresponded to particular Internet usage. As Cameron J.A. put it, at para. 35 of Trapp:
To label information of this kind as mere “subscriber information” or “customer information”, or nothing but “name, address, and telephone number information”, tends to obscure its true nature. I say this because these characterizations gloss over the significance of an IP address and what such an address, once identified with a particular individual, is capable of revealing about that individual, including the individual’s online activity in the home.
Here, the subject matter of the search is the identity of a subscriber whose Internet connection is linked to particular, monitored Internet activity [emphasis added]; [paras 32-33].

With respect to the nature of the privacy interest, the Court first identified the privacy interest at stake as being “informational” and noted:

To return to informational privacy, it seems to me that privacy in relation to information includes at least three conceptually distinct although overlapping understandings of what privacy is. These are privacy as secrecy, privacy as control and privacy as anonymity [para 38].

After setting out the framework for the analysis of each of these privacy interests, the Court identified an intrusion into the “privacy as anonymity” and concluded:

In the circumstances of this case, the police request to link a given IP address to subscriber information was in effect a request to link a specific person (or a limited number of persons in the case of shared Internet services) to specific online activities. This sort of request engages the anonymity aspect of the informational privacy interest by attempting to link the suspect with anonymously undertaken online activities, activities which have been recognized by the Court in other circumstances as engaging significant privacy interests: R. v. Morelli, 2010 SCC 8, [2010] 1 S.C.R. 253, at para. 3; Cole, at para. 47; R. v. Vu, 2013 SCC 60, [2013] 3 S.C.R. 657, at paras. 40-45.
I conclude therefore that the police request to Shaw for subscriber information corresponding to specifically observed, anonymous Internet activity engages a high level of informational privacy [emphasis added]; [para 50-51].

In undertaking this analysis the Court drew the conclusion that Spencer had a subjective expectation of privacy.

Turning to determine whether such an expectation was reasonable, the Court discussed the implications of PIPEDA and the reliance thereon for the disclosure in question. In particular, Spencer argued that the contractual and statutory terms of his agreement with Shaw (the ISP) did not undermine his expectation of privacy. While recognizing that PIPEDA sets outs as a guiding principle that an organization may disclose personal information as they feel appropriate, this principle does not apply where the police seek such information – as opposed to the ISP discovering it and providing it on their own initiative. Where the police request the information they must have a “lawful authority”.

...s. 7(3)(c.1)(ii) of PIPEDA…permits disclosure only if a request is made by a government institution with “lawful authority” to request the disclosure. It is reasonable to expect that an organization bound by PIPEDA will respect its statutory obligations with respect to personal information [para 63].

The Court concluded that Spencer’s expectation of privacy was reasonable:

In my view, in the totality of the circumstances of this case, there is a reasonable expectation of privacy in the subscriber information. The disclosure of this information will often amount to the identification of a user with intimate or sensitive activities being carried out online, usually on the understanding that these activities would be anonymous. A request by a police officer that an ISP voluntarily disclose such information amounts to a search [para 66].

DGM

New & Notable: Clarifying and Safeguarding Crown Discretion

Frederick Anderson was charged with over 80. He pleaded guilty. Prior to his plea he was served with a Notice of increased penalty. At sentencing the Crown intended to prove that Notice was served; the result being that Anderson would be subject to a minimum sentence of 120 days (Anderson had four prior convictions). 

Anderson sought to challenge the filing of notice alleging it breached section 7 of the Charter. In particular, he alleged that the Crown was obliged to consider his Aboriginal status. The Crown’s position was that the filing of Notice was a matter of prosecutorial discretion reviewable only through a finding of abuse of process. The matter ultimately made its way to the Supreme Court: 2014 SCC 41.

In considering the appeal the Court considered two issues. First, is the Crown required to consider the Aboriginal status of the offender in filing Notice of increased penalty. Second, whether filing the Notice is a matter of “core” prosecutorial discretion and on what basis can the exercise of Crown discretion be reviewed.

With respect to the first issue, the Court rejected the notion that the Crown was required to consider Aboriginal status for two reasons.

First, consideration of the Gladue principles is the responsibility of the judge not the Crown:

Importantly, both Gladue and Ipeelee speak to the sentencing obligations of judges to craft a proportionate sentence for Aboriginal offenders. They make no mention of prosecutorial discretion and do not support Mr. Anderson’s argument that prosecutors must consider Aboriginal status when making a decision that limits the sentencing options available to a judge. Mr. Anderson’s argument in effect equates the duty of the judge and the prosecutor, but there is no basis in law to support equating their distinct roles in the sentencing process. It is the judge’s responsibility to impose sentence; likewise, it is the judge’s responsibility, within the applicable legal parameters, to craft a proportionate sentence. If a mandatory minimum regime requires a judge to impose a disproportionate sentence, the regime should be challenged [para 25].

Second, the argument that Aboriginal status must be considered by the Crown relies on a principle of fundamental justice that the Court held is not valid: “The principle contended for by Mr. Anderson does not meet the second requirement that it enjoy consensus as a principle that is fundamental to the way in which the legal system ought to fairly operate” [para 30]. In concluding on this point the Court noted that accepting this principle would significantly impact on the role of the Crown and “hobble” them in their decision making processes:

We must begin by acknowledging that the principle advanced by Mr. Anderson would enormously expand the scope of judicial review of discretionary decisions made by prosecutors. In doing so, it puts at risk the adversarial nature of our criminal justice system by hobbling Crown prosecutors in the performance of their work and by inviting judicial oversight of the numerous decisions that Crown prosecutors make on a daily basis [para 31].

With respect to the second issue, the Court addressed two points.

First, the Court considered the scope of Crown discretion. In doing so it held that there has been a lack of clarity in the law regarding the scope of Crown discretion. The development of “core” discretion is not helpful and should be eliminated. In its place, the Court held that all discretionary decisions are to be treated equally and, importantly, the list of such decisions are not closed or fixed:

In an effort to clarify, I think we should start by recognizing that the term “prosecutorial discretion” is an expansive term that covers all “decisions regarding the nature and extent of the prosecution and the Attorney General’s participation in it” (Krieger, at para. 47). As this Court has repeatedly noted, “[p]rosecutorial discretion refers to the discretion exercised by the Attorney-General in matters within his authority in relation to the prosecution of criminal offences” (Krieger, at para. 44, citing Power, at p. 622, quoting D. Vanek, “Prosecutorial Discretion” (1988), 30 Crim. L.Q. 219, at p. 219 (emphasis added)). While it is likely impossible to create an exhaustive list of the decisions that fall within the nature and extent of a prosecution, further examples to those in Krieger include: the decision to repudiate a plea agreement (as in R. v. Nixon, 2011 SCC 34, [2011] 2 S.C.R. 566); the decision to pursue a dangerous offender application; the decision to prefer a direct indictment; the decision to charge multiple offences; the decision to negotiate a plea; the decision to proceed summarily or by indictment; and the decision to initiate an appeal. All pertain to the nature and extent of the prosecution. As can be seen, many stem from the provisions of the Code itself, including the decision in this case to tender the Notice.

In sum, prosecutorial discretion applies to a wide range of prosecutorial decision making [paras 44-45].

Second, the Court considered the issue of when and how the exercise of Crown discretion may be reviewed. In doing so, it noted that “[m]anifestly, prosecutorial discretion is entitled to considerable deference” [para 48]. The review of prosecutorial discretion, the Court held, is reviewable only for abuse of process – which “refers to Crown conduct that is egregious and seriously compromises trial fairness and/or the integrity of the justice system” [para 50]. In stressing this point the Court noted that to the “extent the Gill test suggests that conduct falling short of abuse of process may form a basis for reviewing prosecutorial discretion, respectfully, it should not be followed” [para 51].

Having set the standard for review, the Court also noted that before the Crown is required to reply to such allegations, an evidentiary basis must be established [para 55].

In conclusion, the Court held:

Parliament has expressly conferred on the Crown the discretion to tender the Notice at the sentencing hearing through the governing provisions of the Code. This discretion is consistent with our constitutional traditions. As the Crown points out, tendering the Notice is not simply a decision as to what submissions will be made at a sentencing hearing (A.F., at para. 119). Tendering the Notice fundamentally alters the extent of prosecution — specifically, the extent of the jeopardy facing the accused. In this respect, the Crown’s decision to tender the Notice is analogous to the decision to proceed with charges that attract a mandatory minimum sentence when other related offences have no mandatory minimum sentence; the decision to proceed by indictment rather than summary conviction when different mandatory minimum sentences are involved; and the decision to proceed by indictment rather than by summary conviction when that decision precludes certain sentencing options.

For these reasons, I conclude that tendering the Notice is a matter of prosecutorial discretion. As a result, it is reviewable only for abuse of process.  In the complete absence of any evidence to support it, Mr. Anderson’s abuse of process argument must fail [paras 62-63].

Anderson is a very helpful decision beyond the specific issues it addresses for a number of reasons.

First, it has clarified the scope of Crown discretion. It has done away with the “core” dichotomy and it has recognized there is not a closed list of discretionary powers or decisions.

Second, it has held that review of such discretion is only permitted for abuse of process.

Third, it has held that an evidentiary basis is required before the Crown needs to respond to challenges to the exercise of its discretion.

Fourth, the Court recognizes that to the extent a regime results in a disproportionate sentence it can be challenged – short of which it must be applied.

DGM

New & Notable: Possibly is not Probably

Yates’ driving drew the attention of Saskatoon Police Services Cst. Mudasia. Yates was observed speeding some 20-30 km/hr over the speed limit and abruptly veering between lanes.

Cst Mudasia pulled Yates over and approached the driver’s side window whereupon he noticed that the vehicle smelled like alcohol and that Yates had bloodshot, glossy eyes. Cst. Mudasia issued the roadside demand. Yates complied and the Approved Screening Device (ASD) registered a ‘fail’. Yates was arrested, cautioned, read his rights and the Intoxylizer demand and transported to the police station. 

Both Intoxylizer samples revealed that Yates had a criminal blood alcohol concentration when he was driving. The trial judge excluded those results pursuant to section 24(2) of the Charter on the basis that Cst. Mudasia breached Yates’ section 8 and 9 Charter rights.

The trial judge concluded that the Cst. Mudasia did not have the requisite reasonable suspicion for the ASD demand. The trial judge held that although she accepted the officer’s evidence about an odour of alcohol emanating from Yates’ vehicle she could not be sure that the odour was emanating from Yates’ breath. The trial judge found that because the officer could not remember if anyone was present in the vehicle with Yates, the source of the odour of alcohol was undetermined. The Crown unsuccessfully appealed to the Saskatchewan Court of Queen’s Bench. The Crown then appealed to the Saskatchewan Court of Appeal: R v Yates, 2014 SKCA 52.

The Saskatchewan Court of Appeal held that:

(…) the appeal court judge and the trial judge both misinterpreted the evidentiary and persuasive burden imposed on the Crown by requiring the Crown to prove that the respondent probably had alcohol in his body; whereas the standard of reasonable suspicion only requires that the Crown prove a reasonable suspicion that a driver possibly had alcohol in his or her body. Specifically, the trial judge found the threshold of reasonable suspicion was not met because the Crown had failed to adduce sufficient evidence to eliminate possible sources of odour of beverage alcohol, which emanated from the respondent’s vehicle, other that the respondent. (…)

In my respectful view, the requirement that an investigating officer must have direct proof of a driver having alcohol in his or her body in order to found a reasonable suspicion that the driver has alcohol in his or her body is inconsistent with the prescribed standard and the requirements of s.254(2)(b) [paras 37-38].

Both the trial judge and summary conviction appeal judge emphasized the Crown’s failure to establish that Yates was alone in the vehicle. The Court of Appeal gave short shrift to this argument noting that:

[t]here is no onus on the Crown to adduce evidence to support or disprove the alternative scenarios of the defence as to the possible source of the odour of beverage alcohol . The Crown need only proved that that the inferences drawn by the investigating officer are rational and reliable on the basis of the evidence it has adduced and that, on the whole of it, facts known to the investigating officer and inferences of fact drawn by the investigating officer reasonably support a suspicion that the accused had alcohol in his or her body.

By holding the Crown to dispel speculation that other persons were in the vehicle or to definitively show that the respondent was the source (or was the probable source) of the odour of beverage alcohol, the trial court and the appeal court mistakenly elevated the evidentiary and persuasive burden imposed on the Crown and held the Crown to establish the validity of the s. 254(2)(b) demand on a standard greater than “reasonable suspicion” [paras 45-46].

Despite finding no Charter breaches, the Court of Appeal declined to enter a conviction and instead ordered a new trial. 

LT

New & Notable: Substance over Form, Safety Searches need that Respect

Geran Williams was walking down the street with a loaded handgun in his waist band. Not only loaded, the gun had a round in the chamber ready to fire. Williams happened to match the description of a person the police had received an anonymous tip about. The police approached him and ultimately found the gun. Williams sought, unsuccessfully, to exclude the gun at trial arguing there had been violations of his rights under sections 8 and 9 of the Charter. He appealed. The Court of Appeal dismissed his appeal: 2013 ONCA 772.

The call cam in shortly after 7 pm on July 10, 2008. The caller indicated that there was a black man wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, about 5'8" tall, with a baby face and hair in dreadlocks walking south at 1800 Martingrove. The caller then hung up. The police knew this area well - there was a history of gun and drug issues at this location.

Officers responded to the area within a few minutes. Some officers, first on scene, identified a male matching the description - although they could not see his face to confirm he had a baby face. Two officers approached that male - he was the appellant, Williams; he was in the group of other males. Officers asked Williams if he was armed, he did not respond. Instead, Williams bladed his body - others in the group did not react in this way. One of the officers then noted Williams make a movement toward his waist. The officers told him to put his hands up and turn around. He did neither. 

The officers then took control of Williams, grabbing his arm and lifting his shirt - the butt end of a handgun was seen and officers arrested Williams. Williams was convicted at trial and appealed.

On appeal two issues were raised. First, the detention. Williams argued that the officers did not have a reasonable suspicion justifying an investigative detention. The Court of Appeal rejected this argument. The standard for investigative detention was "reasonable suspicion" - a standard which the court noted should not be conflated with the more "exacting standard of reasonable belief" [para 22]. To determine this issue the court should look at the totality of the circumstances [para 24]; the mere fact an innocent explanation may be another reasonable interpretation is not fatal [para 24]. In this case the Court of Appeal held the detention was lawful:

The parties agreed at trial and in this court that, on its own, the anonymous tip was not sufficient to satisfy the reasonable suspicion standard.  That said, the tip remained a part, and an important part, of the circumstances that were relevant to a determination of the reasonable suspicion issue.  The tip was current, described the nature of the offence being committed, and contained sufficient particulars of the suspect to enable police to immediately focus on the appellant when they arrived minutes later. 

In our view, the combination of the anonymous tip and what occurred when the appellant encountered the police was capable of supporting a reasonable belief that the appellant might be connected to a gun crime as reported by the anonymous caller.  Nothing more was required [paras 26-27].

Second, Williams argued that the search was unreasonable. This argument was based on the position that lifting his shirt was more than was permissible for an investigative detention safety search. The Court of Appeal rejected that argument as well.  

The police were investigating a possible gun offence.  They apprised the appellant of their purpose.  They asked whether he was armed.  He did not answer their question, but “bladed”, turned away from them.  An officer told the appellant to put his hands up and turn around.  He refused.  The officers approached and took hold of both arms.  The appellant resisted.

One officer lifted the appellant’s baggy t-shirt.  A gun butt protruded from the waistband of the appellant’s pants.  The officer saw it and yelled “gun, gun, gun”.  The appellant was subdued, handcuffed, and placed under arrest. 

Strictly speaking, what occurred was not a pat-down search.  But what occurred was no more, and arguably less, intrusive than a pat-down search.  To characterize what occurred here as unreasonable is to sacrifice substance for form.  In no sense could this search be characterized as the functional equivalent of a strip search [paras 31-33].

DGM

New & Notable: Safety Searches Post MacDonald

Tom Le was visiting a friend. He was in the backyard of the friend's residence hanging out. Le had some plans for that night; he hoped to sell some illegal drugs - he had them on his person for that reason. He also had a fully-loaded restricted firearm, namely a .45 calibre semi-automatic Ruger pistol. The gun was secured in a satchel that Le was wearing over his shoulder.

Le would later be arrested and charged with possession of that gun. At trial he sought to exclude the gun on the basis of alleged violations of his rights under sections 8 and 9. Campbell J dismissed his motion: 2014 ONSC 2033.

While Le was visiting his friend, the police happened to be in that same neighbourhood; they were looking for another man who was wanted for some violent offences. The police were directed to the house where Le was visiting. The police were also told that this residence was the source of some problems including suspected drug activity.

The police entered the backyard. Campbell J described what happened next as follows:

As the police officers were speaking to some of the young men, the accused, who had told the police he did not live in the residence, began behaving nervously, and was “blading” his body to the officer speaking to him so as to keep the satchel away from the officer.  The accused denied having any identification on his person and, when asked about his satchel, quickly fled from the area.  Two of the police officers quickly gave chase and were, eventually, able to tackle the running accused to the ground on a nearby street.  As they wrestled on the ground, with the two officers trying to subdue the accused, the police discovered the firearm in the satchel.  Subsequently, they discovered his illicit drugs [para 5].

At trial Le sought, inter alia, to exclude the evidence on the basis that his detention and the subsequent search violated sections 8 and 9 of the Charter. Campbell J rejected both arguments. 

First, Campbell J addressed whether the police were lawfully positioned when they first encountered Le. Relying on the implied invitation to knock and rejecting the assertion that the police had to attend at the front door - rather than walk straight into the backyard - Campbell J held that they were.

In the circumstances of the present case, the police officers clearly had a lawful reason to enter the backyard property and speak to the occupier.  They were pursuing an investigation of a wanted man who, they had been told, frequented that backyard area and had been seen hanging out there.  Further, the police had been told that the 84 Vanauley Walk address was a “problem” in relation to suspected drug trafficking.  In fulfilling their professional duties, the police were lawfully entitled to enter this backyard area in an effort to ascertain if any of the young men was an occupier of the residential premises there, and to pursue their investigations in relation to Mr. Jackson and potential drug trafficking.  There was no signage in the area that suggested the police were prohibited from entering the backyard, and no occupier of the premises ever expressly revoked their implied licence to enter the backyard area.  In short, the police officers were never trespassers in the backyard area of this address.  They entered lawfully pursuant to the implied licence doctrine, and remained there lawfully as they were never asked to leave by an occupier of the dwelling [para 70].

Second, Campbell J addressed the detention issue. In doing so he held that Le was not initially detained but, just prior to his flight, based on his conduct and the intervention of the police which then was directed at him, the police had the basis to detain him for investigative purposes and he was detained in law.

While the arrival of the police into the backyard area of 84 Vanauley Walk temporarily interrupted the conversations of the five young men, none of the police physically restrained the accused or made any demand or direction to him that interfered with his liberty.  The accused was not on his way anywhere, so the accused was not even “stopped” by the police or momentarily delayed on any journey. The accused was not subjected to any physical or psychological restraint by the police.  No police officer told him to do anything.  He was asked only for some identification.  A reasonable person in the position of the accused, at that point, would not have concluded that he had been deprived of the freedom to choose whether or not to co-operate with the police.  Indeed, the accused himself testified that he thought that he was free to leave the backyard area.  More particularly, the accused explained that he went to go inside the townhouse through the back door because he did not think he needed to remain in the backyard, as no police officer was talking directly to him.  According to the accused, it was only when Cst. O’Toole physically prevented him from going into the townhouse that “things changed” and he did not think he could leave.

In my view, the accused was only detained by the police when Cst. O’Toole asked him about the contents of his bag.  Cst. O’Toole may only have been inquiring about the bag as a way of asking whether the accused had any identification documents in his bag, but a reasonable person in the position of the accused, in those circumstances, might well interpret that inquiry as a tactical demand or direction in relation to the bag, which meant that the accused was no longer free to leave and had lost the freedom to choose whether or not to continue to cooperate with the police [paras 87-88].

Third, Campbell J addressed the search issue. In doing so, he concluded that in the circumstances the police had the basis to perform a pat-down - "safety search" - of Le during the investigative detention as there was a basis to believe he had a gun on his person [paras 94-97].

Notably, in undertaking this analysis Campbell J addressed the recent Supreme Court ruling in R v MacDonald, 2014 SCC 3 and whether it changed the standard for safety searches. Noting that whether the standard was reasonable grounds or reasonable suspicion, the officers had the requisite basis to search, Campbell J nonetheless offered the following interpretation of MacDonald.

There is some question whether the decision in R. v. MacDonald changes the legal threshold for lawful police “safety searches” from the traditional “reasonable suspicion” standard to a higher standard akin to the search warrant requirement of “reasonable and probable grounds.”  I do not read the R. v. MacDonald decision as having such an effect.  It is important to recall that, from its judicial inception in Terry v. Ohio, 392 U.S. 1, 88 S.Ct. 1868 (1968), the courts in the United States and Canada have long applied, in somewhat different language, the standard of “reasonable suspicion” to measure the constitutional permissibility of such “stop and frisk” searches.  The significantly higher standard of “reasonable and probable grounds” has never been the required threshold, for the sound functional reason that it would render such searches legally redundant and practically useless.  If a police officer possessed reasonable and probable grounds to believe a suspect was armed and dangerous, the suspect would invariably be arrested, not merely detained, and would be physically searched as incident to that arrest.  There would be little point in the existence of the police “safety search” power, which has been clearly recognized in the appellate court jurisprudence, if it provided no search powers beyond those already recognized as being incident to an arrest.  Moreover, if police officers are to lawfully conduct investigations in relation to detained (but not arrested) suspects, it only stands to reason that they must be given the lawful means of taking the necessary steps to protect themselves and others during the course of such investigations.  Otherwise, the police would be needlessly placed at serious risk in the performance of their important public duties.  See: R. v. Chehil, 2013 SCC 49 (CanLII), 2013 SCC 49, at para. 3, 20-24, 27; R. v. MacKenzie, 2013 SCC 50 (CanLII), 2013 SCC 50, at para. 74; R. v. Clayton and Farmer, at paras. 20, 28-30, 43-49, 81-84, 98, 103-104, 118, 123-126; R. v. Simpson 1993 CanLII 3379 (ON CA), (1993), 12 O.R. (3d) 182; 79 C.C.C. (3d) 482 (C.A.), at p. 202; Arizona v. Johnson, 129 S.Ct. 781 (2009), at p. 784; R. v. Crocker,2009 BCCA 388 (CanLII), 2009 BCCA 388, 275 B.C.A.C. 190, at paras. 62-72, leave denied: [2010] 1 S.C.R. viii; W.R. LaFave, Search and Seizure – A Treatise on the Fourth Amendment (2005, 4th ed.) at § 9.6(a); J.A. Fontana and D. Keeshan, The Law of Search and Seizure in Canada (2010, 8th ed.) at pp. 709-712.

In R. v. Mann and its progeny the courts have confirmed the existence of the police power to detain individuals for investigative purposes and, where the police have “reasonable grounds” to suspect the detainee is armed and dangerous, to conduct a brief frisk or pat-down search to ensure their own safety and the safety of the public as they conduct such investigations.  In my view, R. v. MacDonald is but an application of that well-established warrantless search power in a particular factual context, namely, where the search involves police entry of the confines of a private residence, where there is an increased expectation of privacy.  See: R. v. Zargar, 2014 ONSC 1415 (CanLII), 2014 ONSC 1415, at paras. 29-32.  Indeed, in R. v. MacDonald, the Supreme Court expressly purports to apply R. v. Mann in this factual context – not overrule it (or the many subsequent judgments that have clarified and applied it).  The confusion in relation to this legal threshold has arisen, it seems to me, from the use of the phrase “reasonable grounds” to describe the threshold of “reasonable suspicion” or “articulable cause,” as this same terminology is also used to describe the higher threshold of “reasonable and probable grounds.”  See: R. v. Mann, at paras. 33-35, 40-45, 63-64.  Accordingly, it is important to recall that, in this particular context, the term “reasonable grounds” is used to describe a threshold of reasonable suspicion, not a threshold of reasonable probability [paras 99-100].

In a recent issue of  Mack's Criminal Law Bulletin on Westlaw's CriminalSource, I discussed MacDonald. Therein I noted that MacDonald was not a case about investigative detention safety searches but rather non-detention searches - while it appeared that MacDonald imposed a standard of reasonable grounds for safety searches (not reasonable suspicion) that standard would only apply in the context of non-detention searches. For investigative detention safety searches the standard remained one of reasonable suspicion - MacDonald did not affect that.

Campbell J has interpreted MacDonald as not changing the standard at all. His reasons for so concluding are compelling. 

Going forward there will no doubt be other interpretations of MacDonald - likely until the Supreme Court again addresses this issue and explains what precisely they meant.

DGM

Current & Curious: A Little Step Back from Morelli?

Justice Fish in R v Morelli, 2010 SCC 8 wrote: “It is difficult to imagine a search more intrusive, extensive, or invasive of one's privacy than the search and seizure of a personal computer” [para 2]. Since Morelli, it has often been taken as a given that the impact of the breach will weigh heavily in favour of exclusion when the search of a computer infringes an accused’s s. 8 rights.

Not necessarily so, says the Ontario Court of Appeal in R v Little, 2014 ONCA 339.

Christopher Little murdered his ex-wife and another woman in his home and then called 9-1-1 in the early morning hours of February 12, 2007. When police arrived they found his cell phone on the bed in the master bedroom. The phone was seized because it had blood on it, and because police wanted to confirm it was the phone that was used to call 9-1-1. Once in police custody, however, the phone was subject to an extensive search. Police copied the user data, call logs, contacts, text messages, videos, and photos.

The next day police officers interviewed Little’s employer. They obtained his verbal consent to seize Little’s workplace computer. Police officers then obtained a warrant to search the contents of the computer. The warrant authorized police to examine the computer for “communications” between certain people, and only during a 6 ½ hour period on a particular day. The computer search did not begin until after the warrant expired, and lasted months. Officers searched the entire contents of the computer for other kinds of evidence such as videos and Internet search histories. They did so in spite of advice from a detective that the warrant only authorized a search for “communications” and further searches were beyond the scope of the warrant.

The trial judge found that the cell phone and workplace computer searches violated Little’s s. 8 rights: 2009 CanLII 41212 (ON SC).

The trial judge admitted photos obtained from the cell phone and an Internet search obtained from the workplace computer under section 24(2) of the Charter: 2009 CanLII 42594 (ON SC). The accused was found guilty of two counts of murder.

On appeal, Little challenged the trial judge’s decision to admit evidence obtained from the search of the workplace computer. In particular, he argued that the trial judge erred by describing the impact of the breach as “the lowest end of the scale.”

The Ontario Court of Appeal rejected this argument—implicitly rejecting a general proposition that the impact of the breach will weigh heavily in favour of exclusion when the search of a computer breaches an accused’s s. 8 rights.

The Court held:

Cases from the Supreme Court of Canada subsequent to the trial judge’s ruling, e.g. R. v. Vu, [2013] 3 S.C.R. 657 and R. v. Cole, [2012] 3 S.C.R. 34, support the case-by-case consideration of the nature of the privacy interest engaged and the impact of the s. 8 breach on that privacy interest.  As made abundantly clear in Vu and Cole, this case-by-case approach applies to searches of computers. [para 8, emphasis added]

In R v Cole Justice Fish, writing for the majority of the Supreme Court of Canada, distinguished his own earlier decision in Morelli by ruling that evidence obtained from the warrantless search of a workplace computer should be admitted. The computer in Cole was owned by the accused’s employer. Workplace policies stated that personal use was permitted, but any data was the property of the employer and could be accessed by the employer. Justice Fish held that when assessing the impact of a s. 8 breach the focus is on the magnitude or intensity of the individual’s reasonable expectation of privacy, and on whether the search demeaned his or her dignity [para 91]. He concluded that the impact of the breach was attenuated by both the diminished privacy interest and the discoverability of the evidence [para 97].

In R v Vu Justice Cromwell, writing for a unanimous Supreme Court of Canada, ruled that evidence obtained from the warrantless search of two personal computers should be admitted. Police executed a search warrant on a house believed to be the site of a marijuana grow-op. Police officers found two personal computers in the house and manually viewed their contents. One of the computers was connected to a security camera system, and contained video of the accused’s vehicle coming and going from the house. The video was copied to a disc. The other computer contained the accused’s resume. Justice Cromwell noted that the search was not as intrusive as a full forensic examination. He also found that the police did not gain access to any more information than was appropriate, given the fairly modest objectives of the search as defined by the terms of the warrant. Justice Cromwell concluded that the impact of the breach favoured exclusion, but not strongly so [para 72].

The Ontario Court of Appeal’s decision in Little confirms a more nuanced approach to the impact of the breach on the Charter-protected interests of the accused when a computer has been searched in breach of s. 8. The impact of the breach will be assessed on a case-by-case basis and may not weigh in favour of exclusion where the reasonable expectation of privacy is diminished.

MG