The Ontario premier's folksy delivery conceals an authoritarian drift echoing global trends
We need to talk about Doug Ford and judicial appointments again because things are getting a bit dark.
Earlier this month, the Ford government introduced Bill 10 – the Protect Ontario Through Safer Streets and Stronger Communities Act. The name, as always, sounds like something dreamed up in a focus group designed to distract from the substance of the legislation. Because what’s really tucked inside this bill has nothing to do with safer streets – and everything to do with consolidating political control over Ontario’s judiciary.
Doug Ford has made a career out of playing Canada’s blunt but reasonable uncle – never quite polished, never quite progressive, but at least not that guy. You know, that guy being Donald Trump – the one who hit Canada with crushing tariffs, called us a national security threat and is obsessed with our annexation as the 51st state.
And when Trump turned his eye to Canada, sensing political opportunity, Ford pounced – calling a snap election and denouncing Trump’s threats as “irresponsible” and “ridiculous.” Ford made sure everyone knew he was the captain of Team Canada. But when it comes to undermining the judiciary – the literal backbone of democratic accountability – Ford sounds less like a defender of Canadian institutions and more like he’s been flipping through Trump’s greatest hits on autocratic bluster.
Because Trump, let’s remember, spent years waging a scorched-earth campaign against judicial independence. He called judges who ruled against him “so-called judges,” branded them “radical left-wing lunatics,” and – most chillingly – had judges arrested. His language became so toxic that U.S. District Judge Robert Lasnik warned it “breeds threats of violence against judges” – a measured way of saying: your words are gasoline, and your supporters are holding the matches. Even Trump’s Supreme Court appointee, Neil Gorsuch, called his attacks “demoralizing” and “disheartening.” Trump isn’t just chipping away at democratic norms – he is steamrolling them with glee.
And now here comes Ford, following the same script but with a plaid shirt and a folksy shrug.
Ford has criticized “Trudeau-appointed judges,” proposed early retirements for jurists he disagrees with, and floated electing judges as if a popularity contest should determine the rule of law. Most recently, Ford called judicial independence a “joke” and suggested that judges lack legitimacy because they are unelected. He even mused about posting the names of judges who grant bail – because, apparently, public harassment is the new accountability.
If this all sounds familiar, it should. It’s not just authoritarian-adjacent – it’s a map to Mar-a-Lago. The difference? Trump yells it in all caps on Truth Social. Ford says it in his “just folks” tone while claiming to protect Canadian values. But whether you erode judicial independence with a sledgehammer or while sipping a Timmies double-double, the result is the same: a legal system where outcomes depend less on the law and more on who’s in power.
Which brings us back to Bill 10. At first glance, it sounds like a relatively tame set of changes to how Ontario appoints judges. But peel back the press release, and the true objective becomes clear: control.
Ontario’s Judicial Appointments Advisory Committee (JAAC) reviews applications and presents a shortlist of top candidates for the Attorney General to choose from. The system – despite the Ford government’s continued efforts to “fix” what isn’t broken – is widely respected as one of Canada's most merit-based and non-partisan. Bill 10 would blow that up.
Under the proposed changes, Attorney General Doug Downey would be given unlimited latitude to set the criteria for judicial candidates – criteria that could include being “tough on crime” or believing “jail, not bail.” The bill also gives Downey the power to reach further down the list of applicants, bypassing the most qualified candidates in favour of less experienced ones who will walk in ideological lockstep with the government. In the context of Ford’s dismissal of judicial independence and Downey’s past comments about appointing “like-minded” judges, this is a slap in the face to the concept of an independent bench.
This is not about access to justice. It’s about access to control.
Judicial independence is the bedrock of our democracy. It ensures that disputes are resolved by a neutral arbiter – not by political pressure or polling numbers. It means judges can’t be fired, bullied, or bribed just because a politician has a temper tantrum. As former Chief Justice Brian Dickson once said, judicial independence is not just a structural feature – it is “the lifeblood of constitutionalism in democratic societies.” It’s not a loophole – it’s the entire point. Without it, you don’t have a justice system.
And this isn’t just a Canadian ideal. In 2025, U.S. Chief Justice John Roberts reminded Americans – and by extension, all of us – that “judicial independence is crucial” and that the system of co-equal branches “doesn’t work if the judiciary is not independent.” That warning may have been aimed at Trumpism, but it’s just as relevant for Ford Nation.
When politicians start using their power to punish judges for decisions they don’t like, it’s not “tough on crime” – it’s soft on democracy.
Let’s not mince words: Ford’s legislation is dangerous. Not because it’s particularly clever – but because it’s obvious. Undermine the appointment process. Stack the bench with ideological and political allies. Shift public trust away from the courts and onto political leadership. It’s authoritarianism in slow motion – and if you think it can’t happen here, you haven’t been paying attention.
Ford can’t claim moral superiority over the United States while he walks the same path with folksier signage. The erosion of judicial independence doesn’t happen all at once. It happens one bill, one appointment, one “just folks” comment at a time.
And unless we call it what it is now, we’ll look back one day and wonder how the system we trusted became a tool of political convenience.
Spoiler alert: It didn’t happen overnight. It happened when we looked away.