Is there
life after life?
Andrew Coyne
National Post - July.99
Maurice Sychuk is a former professor of law
at the University of Alberta, a practising lawyer for some 27 years.
At one time he was regarded as Canada's leading expert on oil and gas
law. He is also, by his own admission, a recovering alcoholic, a reformed
bully and a convicted murderer. For the latter indiscretion he stabbed
his wife 22 times, and left the knife in her neck when he'd done he was
sentenced to life imprisonment, serving 10 years before his parole
last year. He was also disbarred.
Now the former "Screamin' Mo" (a reference
to his verbal style with students who displeased him) is back, a changed
man, seeking reinstatement as a lawyer, the final stage, he argues,
in his rehabilitation. No one disputes his legal competence. Nor is
there much doubt of his remorse. He was by all accounts a model prisoner,
and it is not seriously suggested that he is likely to reoffend. Yet
his readmission to the bar is opposed by most of his former colleagues,
on the grounds that get this, it might hurt their reputation.
"It
cannot be that a member who commits murder can possibly satisfy the
ethical conditions of membership," argue a group of 11 U of A law professors
in a submission filed with the Law Society of Alberta, which has just
concluded hearings on Mr. Sychuk's application. "The public whom we
serve and whose trust we finally depend upon would loudly and wildly
condemn" his reinstatement. One professor put it even more bluntly.
"If Mo Sychuk is readmitted, then we are not a profession any longer."
The lawyers' sensitivity to their reputation is understandable, if a
little late.
In libel suits, a plaintiff is not entitled to damages
if his name is already so blackened that an extra bit of defamation
would make no difference. Coming just days after a group of lawyers
laid claim to $52-million out of money allotted to compensate victims
of hepatitis C, it may fairly be doubted whether there is anything in
Mr. Sychuk's application that would leave the public with a more jaded
impression of the profession than it already has. Still, this concern
for appearances is revealing in its own way.
The case is being depicted
as a great moral dilemma, a struggle between, on the one hand, Mr. Sychuk's
desire for redemption, and on the other, the necessity of maintaining
public trust in the legal system. With respect, it has little to do
with either. It is, rather, yet another installment in the profession's
unceasing campaign to present itself as something other than a mere
trade, to drape in robes of lex regia what is in reality a business
like any other. Of course, it isn't a business like any other, in one
sense. Lawyers are, in the phrase, officers of the court, and as such
carry certain public responsibilities not given to ordinary tradesmen.
Moreover, their customers generally have no option but to engage them;
the business they transact is especially hard to follow; and the consequences,
if the service they provide is poor, can be extreme including loss
of liberty.
For these reasons and more, the legal trade may well require
a greater degree of regulation than most. There may even be a case for
the traditional self-regulation, on the grounds that only lawyers are
equipped to deal with other lawyers. But the justification, if any,
for this arrangement is the need to protect the public -- not the profession.
In Mr. Sychuk's case, there is no threat to the public, nor has one
been alleged. He's not about to murder his clients. And even if his
past acts, shall we say, showed a certain disregard for the law, there's
no sign this is habitual. Rather, the case against him seems to be,
well, he killed someone. Whatever his penance, whatever his punishment,
it cannot wash away his guilt. To readmit him would bring dishonour
on the profession. Maybe it would.
But why should that decide the matter?
However fascinating the moral issues may be in this case what are
the limits of punishment; what are the possibilities of rehabilitation;
what are the obligations of forgiveness they are more or less beside
the point.
The question is: Why is it up to other lawyers to decide
whether Mr. Sychuk can practise law? Why, when protection of the public
is not at issue? True, Mr. Sychuk does not absolutely have to be a lawyer:
He can earn a living in other ways. But why should he not be? He is
obliged, for his crimes, to pay his debt to society but to the Law
Society? There are plenty of ways to register disapproval, without taking
away his right to practise.
If Mr. Sychuk's dark past is such that no
law firm in Alberta would wish to be associated with him, they are under
no obligation to hire him. If potential clients are so revolted by his
conduct, they, too, have every right to shun him. It would even be open
to the Law Society to close its doors to him, and to advertise this
fact if this did not also entail, under provincial law, the automatic
loss of his licence. That, to me, is the real issue, here.
It's fine
for other lawyers not to want to work with him. But why should he be
prevented from working at all? And why should it be within the power
of the Law Society to prevent him?
National
Post - Andrew Coyne