Canadian debt is shaping who can afford to defend the law

Public-interest law cannot thrive if graduates cannot afford to pursue it

Every year, students arrive at Queen’s and other universities across Canada with aspirations that extend far beyond corporate careers. Yet somewhere between orientation and graduation, idealism collides with economics.

As Queen’s graduates prepare for their next steps in education, especially for graduate and professional degrees, tuition continues to rise, with top Canadian JD programs surpassing $33,000 per year. Housing has become increasingly expensive, and student borrowing is no longer unusual; for many, total debt loads reaching $70,000 to $100,000 have become an expected part of education.

But for future lawyers, the trade-off is especially drastic.

Graduates entering large corporate firms in Toronto can expect starting salaries that exceed six figures, often between $110,000 and $130,000 for first-year associates. In contrast, yearly entry level salaries in legal aid and community legal clinics typically start between $60,000 and $75,000, while many articling candidates earn barely above the Law Society of Ontario’s mandatory minimum compensation standards, despite carrying responsibilities vital to public interest.

This is not to say that lawyers should feel guilty for choosing private practice. Corporate lawyers perform valuable work and deserve to be compensated for it. The problem arises when financial necessity — not aptitude, passion, or public need — become the force determining where talented graduates can afford to build their careers.

This is not simply an individual problem; it is an institutional one. And its consequences are not just confined to students, but are visible from the other side of the system as well. In speaking with justices from the Ontario Court of Justice, I observed a consistent unease about what the rising cost of legal education means for the profession, and, ultimately, for the future of accessibility.

One of the most significant challenges emerged from the COVID-19 crisis. The pandemic exposed serious vulnerabilities in criminal practice. My conversations with current justices highlighted the particular pressures faced by criminal defence lawyers as court closures, administrative backlogs, and the human toll of delayed justice compounded the challenges of an already strained practice. At the same time, concerns about legal aid funding raised questions about the sustainability of criminal defence work precisely when access to justice was needed most.

These concerns direct attention to a larger issue, notably that the strength of our justice system depends on maintaining a legal profession capable of serving every part of society. When too few lawyers can afford public-interest practice, the consequences fall directly on everyday people: tenants facing unlawful eviction, workers pursuing unpaid wages, and families navigating court systems without a voice.

A related issue is the future composition of the profession, particularly the effect of rising educational costs on who can enter the system in the first place. The cost of law school can become a significant barrier, creating a risk of talented and diverse students being discouraged from pursuing legal careers. When the cost of becoming a lawyer rises, the profession risks becoming less accessible to the students whose voices benefit the communities it serves.

The burden can be particularly acute for students who already have financial responsibilities to family members in Canada or abroad. Students in these circumstances can bring a deep understanding of systemic disadvantage and community need, while simultaneously facing greater pressure to avoid taking on substantial education debt. The result is a troubling paradox where some of the students who may be especially motivated to serve communities facing disadvantage may also be among those least able to absorb the financial cost of entering the profession.

These real-world observations suggest that the cost of legal education is not simply a question of individual student debt. It can influence who enters the profession, which areas of law graduates can pursue, and whose experiences are represented within Canada’s justice system.

Government initiatives like Loan Repayment Assistance Programs (LRAPs) offer temporary relief, but they fail to address the larger issue and often trap graduates in a financial battle. Program eligibility relies on rigid income caps that fail to account for the actual cost of living, disqualifying the very public-interest lawyers they were built to assist.

Long before a fresh lawyer represents their first client, debt begins influencing which clients they may ultimately be able to represent. Before someone struggles to find a lawyer, someone must first decide they can afford to become one.

Across Canada, that pipeline is under growing pressure.

Research from the Canadian Forum on Civil Justice reveals that over half of Canadians experiencing everyday legal problems receive no legal assistance, often due to cost. West Coast LEAF similarly reports that while lower-income British Columbians experience serious legal problems, only a small proportion receive legal representation. Alberta’s Legal Needs Assessment identifies affordability as one of the greatest barriers to accessing justice. Meanwhile, Legal Aid Ontario and community legal clinics continue to face mounting demand while operating with finite resources.

If schools ad policymakers want to uphold the integrity of the legal profession, then they must confront the economic realities graduates face after convocation. Whether that be through sustainable legal aid funding or structural university reforms, the objective must be ensuring that talented graduates are not priced out of serving the public.

Canada’s access-to justice challenge does not begin when someone walks into a legal clinic unable to find representation. It begins years earlier, when educational debt determines who can afford to defend the law in the first place. If we value the integrity of our justice system, we must create the conditions that allow the next generation of lawyers to serve where they are needed most.

Grace O’Marra is a first year law student. 

Tags

Canadian law, Justice, Legal Aid, Legal Education, Opinions, student debt

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