Mandatory minimum sentences have become one of the most heavily scrutinized features of Canadian criminal law. Although designed to promote consistency and deterrence, they often create injustice by tying the hands of judges. Over time, courts across Canada have recognized that mandatory minimums can lead to sentences so harsh and disproportionate that they breach section 12 of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which protects against cruel and unusual punishment.
One case that brought this issue into sharp focus for me personally was R. v. Roberts, 2019 ONCJ 22 (Ontario Court of Justice). I had the privilege of acting as defence counsel in this matter. The mandatory minimum sentence at issue bore little relation to my client’s personal circumstances or actual level of moral blameworthiness. In effect, the law required the judge to consider a punishment that was grossly disproportionate to the facts of the case. The Court ultimately struck down the mandatory minimum as unconstitutional, reaffirming that sentencing must be an individualized process. This decision underscored a broader truth: rigid sentencing laws risk punishing offenders not for what they did, but for how Parliament imagined the “worst-case scenario.”
The Roberts decision fits squarely within a growing body of jurisprudence that has chipped away at mandatory minimums. In R. v. Nur (2015 SCC 15), the Supreme Court struck down a mandatory minimum for possession of a loaded prohibited firearm, pointing out that such laws could capture reasonably foreseeable, less serious cases. Similarly, in R. v. Lloyd (2016 SCC 13), the Court invalidated a one-year minimum for certain drug trafficking offences, emphasizing that mandatory minimums often “cast too wide a net” and undermine proportionality — the principle that a sentence must reflect both the gravity of the offence and the offender’s circumstances.
These cases, and Roberts in particular, highlight a central problem: mandatory minimums transfer sentencing power from judges to legislators. Capable judges are trained, independent, and tasked with weighing the complex factors of each case — from denunciation and deterrence to rehabilitation and fairness. Stripping them of discretion risks injustice by forcing a “one-size-fits-all” penalty that may shock the conscience of the community.
The lesson from Roberts, and from the Supreme Court’s broader jurisprudence, is clear: true justice requires flexibility. While Parliament can set guiding ranges, it is the judiciary that must tailor sentences to the real people and real circumstances before the court. Mandatory minimums fail this test, and Canadian courts have rightly moved to dismantle them in favour of a sentencing regime rooted in fairness, proportionality, and judicial discretion.