Do we need yet more analysis of the responses to the September 11, 2001 (hereafter 9/11), terrorist attacks? Those tragic events occurred more than a decade ago, and their 10-year memorial focused on bringing “closure” to the event. For many, those attacks have become an increasingly distant, if still poignant, memory. For still others—such as the new cohort of undergraduate students who were only nine years old on the day of the attacks—9/11 is social history.

Our contention in putting together this volume is that there continues to be significant reason to scrutinize 9/11 in terms of its consequences for the dynamics of surveillance. The aftermath of that tragic event played a major role in policy changes and in international relations. Wars were fought in Iraq and Afghanistan, sparked by 9/11, and many thousands more people died as a result. “National security” was elevated to a top priority in the United States and elsewhere, and this approach has had wave and ripple effects throughout the world. This is the “War on Terror,” and, unlike other wars, this one has no visible end point. These developments certainly affected surveillance practices internationally and have been the cue for the United States to demand that other countries fall in line with its approach. On the other hand, for many countries, especially in the global south, 9/11 is not a top-of-mind matter, nor is “national security” a vital concern.

This article examines the effect of two recent constitutional decisions that have altered the course of assisted-reproduction policy in Canada: Reference re Assisted Human Reproduction Act (2010) and Pratten v British Columbia (2011). Together, the cases link a socially liberal conception of morality in federalism cases with an interventionist view of the state in Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms cases. This could result in a trend toward judicially mandated provincial, as opposed to federal, government action. These cases also provide further evidence of the judicialization of politics in Canada, whereby controversial moral and public-policy issues are increasingly determined in the courtroom.

This article presents a critical examination of the general weight that modern deterrence theory assigns to cost–benefit rationality in its conception of criminal acting out. Following Niklas Luhmann and Spencer Brown, who state that observation means handling distinctions, we reveal what the distinctions in deterrence theory themselves conceal, in particular with respect to these “other rationalities” (that is, rationalities other than rationality defined in terms of cost–benefit calculation), which may, in certain circumstances, have a significant influence on the decision-making process involved in acting out. In empirical terms, based on excerpts from qualitative interviews we conducted with individuals who had committed “serious” crimes, we support this hypothesis by showing the operating procedure for an alternative defined in terms of the rationality of risk. In relation to criminal law, our analysis therefore challenges an entire set of assumptions dear to deterrence advocates; in relation to science, it reopens a now-stagnant debate regarding the criteria for the effectiveness or operationalization of criminal deterrence.

In Western societies, penal regulation is largely considered the best way to deal with conflicts or, more widely, with trouble. Indeed, penal regulation is seen as one of the most efficient tools for maintaining the cohesion of collective life. However, some research has questioned this efficiency, noting that only a few problematic situations were addressed by the penal system. We can hypothesize, then, that other forms of defining and regulating trouble exist and function outside of any institutional field. The present study develops this hypothesis by analyzing how people experience conflicts in everyday life. In this way, we attempt to discover whether these social modes of identifying trouble still remain and under which conditions this survival is possible.

The use of criminal-law powers to respond to people with HIV who place others at risk of HIV infection has emerged as a focal point of AIDS advocacy at global, national, and local levels. In the Canadian context, reform efforts that address the criminalization of HIV non-disclosure have been hampered by the absence of data on the contours, scale, and outcomes of criminalization. This article responds to that gap in knowledge with the first comprehensive analysis of the temporal trends, demographic patterns, and aggregate outcomes of Canadian criminal cases of HIV non-disclosure. The authors draw on insights into the role that rendering social phenomena in numerical terms plays for the governance of social life in order to make criminalization “visible” in ways that might contribute to activist responses. The article examines temporal trends, demographic patterns, and outcomes separately. In each instance, the pattern or trend identified is described, potential explanations for findings are offered, and an account is given of how the data have informed efforts to reform criminal law. Particular attention is paid to the following key findings: a sharp increase in criminal cases that began in 2004; the large proportion of recent criminal cases involving defendants who are heterosexual Black, African, and Caribbean men; and the high proportion of criminal cases resulting in conviction. The article closes with suggestions for future research.

This research note begins by situating some of the major areas of inquiry within social-science research on the criminalization of HIV/AIDS non-disclosure. The evolution of the use of this criminal justice measure in the attempt to regulate HIV/AIDS transmission illustrates what has been termed “criminalization creep,” whereby steadily increasing numbers of people are charged with increasingly severe crimes. We outline some of the key and precedent-setting cases in Canadian law in order to explore the problematic of criminalization and suggest avenues for future research on this subject.

In this article, I argue that precarious migration status can be used as an organizing concept for an analysis of (im)migration law in Canada. After situating the regulation of precarious migrants in the historical context of the liberal/neo-liberal shift of the 1970s, I argue that the increase in migrant precariousness over the past few years is likely to increase as a result of recent legislative changes in both refugee and migrant-worker law. Finally, I offer a critique of the traditional liberal argument for migrant rights, inviting an alternative approach to establish migrant rights on the basis of economic participation.

“Home” to more than 150,000 children from the 1870s until 1996, the residential school system was aimed at “killing the Indian in the child” and assimilating First Nations, Métis, and Inuit children into white settler society. It was, in short, a genocidal policy, operated jointly by the federal government of Canada and the Catholic, Anglican, United, and Presbyterian Churches. Children as young as four years old were torn from their families and placed in institutions that were chronically underfunded; mismanaged; inadequately staffed; and rife with disease, malnutrition, poor ventilation, poor heating, neglect, and death. Sexual, emotional, and physical abuse was pervasive, and it was consistent policy to deny children their languages, their cultures, their families, and even their given names. While some children may have had positive experiences, many former students have found themselves caught between two worlds: deprived of their languages and traditions, they were left on their own to handle the trauma of their school experience and to try to readapt to the traditional way of life that they had been conditioned to reject. Life after residential school has been marred for many by alcohol and substance abuse, cycles of violence, suicide, anger, hopelessness, isolation, shame, guilt, and an inability to parent.

First Nations leader Phil Fontaine catalysed the struggle for redress in 1990 when he stunned Canada by speaking about his residential-school experience. The second major catalyst was the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (RCAP) of 1991–1996, which broadly exposed the horrors of residential schools to Canadians and called for a public inquiry.

This article advocates for the inclusion of intercultural dispute-resolution principles in Canadian courts to resolve conflicts between Indigenous communities and the Canadian state. These principles include judges' opening themselves up to discomfort, emotion, and unsettling in listening to Indigenous testimonies; facilitating ongoing processes for negotiation; and engaging the moral imagination to make court procedures more culturally appropriate for Indigenous testimonies. The author argues that by implementing these principles, courts can contribute to the creation of more respectful relationships between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people.

This paper uses the example of the control of medicinal liquor during prohibition in Alberta to explore how the methods of control altered during the eight years of prohibition. This paper argues that the system used to control medicinal liquor changed from a prosecutorial system to a regulatory system. This shift from prosecution to regulation was essential in ensuring that medicinal liquor was actually controlled and allowed medicinal liquor to become an alternative as well as an exception to prohibition. This paper focuses on explaining the success of administrative control rather than the courts' attempts to control administrative action and thus examines administrative law and practice from the ground up. Consequently, this paper uses a broad definition of administrative law which includes the regulations, policies and practices created and used by the provincial state in its attempt to control medicinal liquor.

Remembering Inninimowin is a two-year-long documentary film project on the personal journey of a Cree woman, Jules Koostachin, a member of Attawapiskat First Nation, as she starts to remember her first language, Inninimowin (Cree).

When we talk about truth and reconciliation commissions, we are accustomed to speaking of “transitional justice” mechanisms used in emerging democracies addressing histories of grave injustices. Public inquiries are usually the state response to past injustice in the Canadian context. The Canadian Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) is the result of a legal settlement agreement involving the government, representatives of indigenous peoples who attended residential schools for a period lasting more than a century, and the churches that operated those schools. Residential schools have been addressed in a series of public inquiries in Canada, culminating in the TRC. I argue that some of Canada's previous public inquiries, particularly with respect to indigenous issues, have strongly resembled truth commissions, yet this is the first time that an established democracy has called a body investigating past human-rights violations a “truth commission.” This article considers some of the reasons for seeking a truth commission in an established democracy and looks to a previous public inquiry led by Thomas Berger, the Mackenzie Valley Pipeline Inquiry, for some useful strategies for the TRC as it pursues its mandate. In particular, I suggest that a commission can perform a social function by using its process to educate the broader public about the issue before it.