Alberta, Alberta: When the blues meet the bench

"Alberta, Alberta…Ain't had no loving since you've been gone."

Recent skirmishes between Ottawa and Alberta over the judicial appointments’ selection process remind me of that old Mississippi Blues tune, covered by prominent musicians like Eric Clapton, Jerry Lee Lewis and Willie Nelson.

Ottawa was singing the blues last month when Alberta Premier Danielle Smith threatened to withhold funding for the judiciary unless the federal government includes provincial appointments to the advisory board that recommends federal judicial nominees. The timing is telling: this spring, Justice Sheilah Martin will be retiring from the Supreme Court of Canada, creating a vacancy that will be filled by a western jurist. Alberta wants a say in who that will be.

This is not the first time Alberta has threatened to withhold funds if it doesn't get its way. But Premier Smith's recent declaration that she wished she could direct judges on bail decisions strikes a discordant new note.

Alberta has the blues because it is being excluded from decisions that will shape the law in the province. Is there merit to its complaint? On one level, yes. Canada's federal system entails shared responsibility for governance. Currently, the Independent Advisory Board for Supreme Court appointments consists of members appointed by the federal Minister of Justice and legal professional organizations. When a vacancy arises, why shouldn't provinces and territories have input? This would better reflect federal principles of shared governance.

Yet, the current structure maintains a delicate balance: five members of the board are nominated by the legal profession through organizations such as the Indigenous Bar Association and the Federation of Law Societies. Only three are appointed by the government. Would accommodating provincial participation mean adding additional government appointees? That’s a new tune entirely, one that risks political capture of the administration of justice.

The concern is not hypothetical. Last year, Ontario Premier Doug Ford called judicial independence “a joke.” Alberta recently passed the Regulated Professions Neutrality Act, stripping professional regulators of the ability to discipline members for offensive public speech. And in 2024, British Columbia restructured the legal profession's regulatory body and reduced lawyers' presence on the board that governs the profession.

Across the country, lawyers have been denouncing these threats to the independence of the bar and the rule of law. I suggest the legal profession also use this moment to reflect on its own failures.

A serious access-to-justice crisis currently plagues the legal system in Canada. A 2023 National Justice Survey revealed that only half of Canadians report confidence that the civil justice system is fair. Among Indigenous respondents, that number drops significantly. In British Columbia, recent public engagement found that a majority of respondents reported dissatisfaction with the legal services they received. Most recently, the 2025 World Justice Project's Rule of Law Index ranked Canada 75th out of 143 countries on access and affordability of civil justice. Most Canadians cannot afford lawyers’ fees. Self-represented litigants navigate impossibly complex procedures alone, while court delays stretch months and years.

The access to justice crisis has many causes, and lawyers’ own conduct is one contributing factor. Ethically questionable practices—such as exploiting legal loopholes, leveraging social myths, and pursuing overzealous advocacy—are at odds with the just, timely, and affordable resolution of disputes. In Ontario, a Civil Justice Review Committee has thus recently recommended the province add a Duty to Cooperate rule to the Ontario Superior Court’s Rules of Civil Procedure—hoping to finally instill in lawyers a “shared responsibility to manage the Court's limited resources.” 

In the context of family law, University of Calgary Professor Jennifer Koshan found that accusing women of fabricating reports of intimate partner violence was considered to be a “playbook response” from respondent counsel. This gender stereotype—denounced by the Supreme Court of Canada—is a “greatest hit,” a song lawyers “just expect… is going to be played every time,” in the words of one lawyer she interviewed.

Incivility, harassment and gamesmanship do not remain confined to litigation—like the blues, they seep inside the soul, hardening into professional identity and corroding the broader culture of the bar. In 2024, three Ontario provincial court judges stepped down amid allegations of sexual harassment, aggressive courtroom behavior and workplace bullying. A National Study on the Psychological Health Determinants of Legal Professionals in Canada, out of the University of Sherbrooke, confirms this is systemic: a substantial majority of lawyers experience incivility and many also report incidents of bullying. Incidents and severity increase considerably for women, lawyers with disabilities, LGBTQ2S+ persons, and Indigenous and racialized lawyers. 

Ten years ago, Eric Clapton was sued for miscrediting the author of the blues song, “Alberta, Alberta.” Today, the legal profession also risks ignoring crucial facts. Unless the profession addresses the access to justice crisis and toxic behaviors, the song playing across Canada will likely continue to sound like eroding judicial and legal independence and diminishing public trust. That's a tune nobody wants to hear.