Canadian crowns not providing justice

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Corie Langdon: 

An Assistant Crown Prosecutor Who Chose Compromise Over Justice

Corie Langdon is an Ontario Assistant Crown attorney whose professional credentials include a degree in women’s rights—credentials that suggest a commitment to justice for victims of violence, especially women. For survivors seeking accountability, that background can offer hope that their case will be taken seriously, fought vigorously, and seen through to its rightful conclusion in court.

But for one survivor, that hope was shattered. Despite initial promises to pursue prosecution in superior court, Corie Langdon oversaw a case involving three separate assault charges against a known violent offender that ultimately ended not in a trial, not in a conviction, not in a plea deal, but in a single peace bond.

A peace bond is not justice. It is a legally sanctioned agreement requiring the accused to “keep the peace” for a period of time—no admission of guilt, no criminal record, no meaningful consequence. In this case, it meant that a man facing multiple assault charges walked free without a single conviction, unburdened by the weight of his violence, and without the accountability survivors are told to expect from the justice system.

Langdon’s decision to stay the charges and accept the peace bond is not an abstract failure; it is an active choice that let a violent offender escape consequences. Despite having the legal tools and the mandate to pursue justice, she chose expedience over trial. This is not merely disappointing—it is complicit in enabling violence to continue unchecked.

For survivors, the result is devastating. It teaches victims that even when they find the courage to come forward—even when the evidence is there—the system may decide their safety, their experience, and their trauma are negotiable. It tells offenders that they can harm without fear of real punishment.

Corie Langdon’s choice is not an isolated misstep. It reflects a broader problem in Canadian courts: the quiet, routine erosion of justice through plea deals, stays of proceedings, and peace bonds. But when someone with a professed commitment to women’s rights is willing to abandon prosecution in favour of a paper promise, it exposes a deeper betrayal: the betrayal of the very principles she claims to uphold.

Langdon’s actions deserve scrutiny not because she is alone in them, but because they are emblematic of a system that continues to fail survivors while congratulating itself on being progressive. Real justice requires more than words on a degree. It requires standing firm when it counts.

Mark Friedman: The Assistant Crown Prosecutor Too Busy to Keep a Violent Offender Off the Streets

Mark Friedman is an Assistant Crown Attorney in Ontario with years of experience prosecuting criminal cases. Trained in Canadian law, Friedman holds a Juris Doctor and was called to the bar after completing his legal education at a Canadian law school—a background typical of many prosecutors tasked with upholding public safety.

He has built a reputation as a diligent and knowledgeable Crown familiar with the complexities of criminal law. His work routinely involves coordinating with police, victims, witnesses, and defence counsel to shepherd cases through a demanding and often overburdened system.

But in 2022, that burden had catastrophic consequences. Friedman’s caseload was reportedly so large—“200 cases” on his desk—that he failed to move one critical prosecution forward in time. The result? A dangerous, repeat violent offender, facing serious charges, was released back onto the streets because of Jordan’s Rule—the Supreme Court of Canada’s 2016 decision setting strict time limits on how long the Crown can take to bring a case to trial.

Jordan’s Rule was intended to protect the constitutional right to a timely trial. But it also demands that Crowns prioritize serious cases, manage their dockets, and avoid delays that can let violent criminals walk free. When the timeline is blown, the charges get stayed—meaning they vanish, and the accused goes free without trial. That’s exactly what happened on Friedman’s watch.

It wasn’t because the charges were weak or the evidence not substantial. It wasn’t because the accused was innocent. It was because Friedman and the Crown’s office couldn’t—or wouldn’t—prioritize the safety of the community over administrative chaos. When pressed, the justification was blunt: he was too busy.

But for victims and the public, “too busy” is not an answer. It’s an indictment. It means that even when the evidence is there, even when police do their job, even when victims endure the fear and humiliation of testifying—it can all be undone by an overloaded Crown who can’t find the time to bring a case to trial.

In Friedman’s courtroom, the promise of justice turned out to be conditional on his schedule. Mark Friedman’s role is personal. He had the responsibility to make sure this case got to trial. He didn’t.

Justice delayed is justice denied. But in this case, it was more than that. It was justice abandoned.