The Judge Followed the Law—But That Doesn’t Make It Right

So here’s the thing. If your measurement of what’s right or wrong begins and ends with the law—if you define morality based on legal rules, the letter of the law, especially as it pertains to how a judge is supposed to behave in a courtroom—then, sure, you could argue the judge technically did nothing wrong. I’m not a legal expert, but from where I sit, it seems like all the proper rules and procedures were followed.

But here’s the part people forget: I’m not a judge. I’m not bound by the same rules and restrictions. A judge has to work within a tightly controlled environment, one where justice is filtered through evidence, arguments, precedent, and an endless list of procedural boundaries. I don’t have to do that.

I can use other methods to determine what’s right or wrong. I can look at the full picture—not just the contents of the courtroom, but everything surrounding the case, including the broader social context that the legal system is often forced to ignore.

For instance, a lawyer can’t walk into a courtroom and say, “Society’s acceptance of rape culture has influenced the defendant’s behavior.” Even if it’s true, they can’t prove it, so they can’t say it. But I’m not bound by that burden of proof. I can make that inference. And it's not an unreasonable one.

I can also look at past behavior. I can draw connections between things that might not be admissible in court. I can use common sense. I can look at how society at large operates, how certain institutions—Hockey Canada, for example—have fostered environments where harmful attitudes about consent and entitlement have gone unchecked.

So, when I see that these five defendants grew up in that exact environment—at a time when their brains were still developing—it’s not a stretch to think that this toxic culture shaped their understanding of sex and consent in dangerous, damaging ways. That kind of influence matters. It’s real. And while a judge might not be allowed to consider that, I sure as hell can.

That brings me to the heart of the issue: Where I think the judge went wrong wasn’t necessarily in breaking the law—it was in perpetuating dangerous myths and outdated narratives about consent. There were clear biases at play. The judge, perhaps unintentionally, downplayed or outright dismissed the survivor’s account. And that’s where the damage is done.

We have to break away from this idea that the court's rules and restrictions are somehow a moral compass. They’re not. Those rules exist to limit the state’s immense power. They’re not moral imperatives you, as a member of the public, are required to adopt.

So don’t fall into the trap of saying, “Well, the judge followed the rules, so everything’s fine.” No. We, the public, are allowed—obligated, even—to apply different judgments. We can, and should, look at this situation and say plainly: Those kids sexually assaulted her.

It’s not complicated. It doesn’t take a law degree. It doesn’t take some grand investigation or rocket science to figure it out. And when you sit with that, when you see how obvious it all is, you start asking yourself: What the fuck?

You start looking at the judge and asking, even if just in your head: What the fuck are you doing?

And from there, the real questions begin. What are the institutional failures that let this happen? What social systems are in place that perpetuate this kind of harm? What cultural rot allowed these young men to think their behavior was okay?

That’s where the work begins.

And I encourage you—seriously—to use that frustration, that confusion, that what the fuck moment as fuel. Go explore these issues yourself. Follow the threads. Look at the systems. It’s not easy work, but it’s necessary. And I promise you, it’s far more rewarding than staying in that place of helplessness.

That’s a bigger discussion for another time. But it starts here.