Law360 Canada (October 19, 2026, 11:18 AM EDT) --
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| John L. Hill |
Law students should learn from the difficult realities of rehabilitation. A controversy at McGill University law school raises questions about campus safety, reintegration and the educational value of confronting the criminal justice system.
A student at the law school is a convicted murderer. This raises an uncomfortable question: should a person who has committed appalling crimes be denied the opportunity to pursue an education because other students are frightened by his past? Or can a university provide a safe learning environment while allowing someone who has served a lengthy prison sentence to demonstrate that rehabilitation is possible?
A recent CBC report on McGill University law student Jeffrey George Ewert illustrates how difficult it is to strike the right balance. It also raises a question that deserves greater attention: whether law students should be exposed to the realities of the criminal justice system, including the challenges of reintegrating people convicted of serious offences, rather than shielded from them.
My view is that they should. But this is not an argument for ignoring legitimate safety concerns. It is an argument for confronting those concerns intelligently, with appropriate safeguards and a clear understanding of the law.
Natalie_: ISTOCKPHOTO.COM
Ewert was convicted of second-degree murder and attempted murder in connection with two 1984 attacks. One victim, Corrina Lea Makiev, was sexually assaulted and killed. The other was a 15-year-old girl who survived an exceptionally brutal assault but sustained permanent brain damage and physical disabilities. Ewert is serving a life sentence and was granted day parole in 2025.
According to CBC, clinical assessments placed his risk of reoffending in the moderate-to-high range. However, the Parole Board of Canada concluded that close supervision and clinical follow-up appeared to reduce that risk to moderate. His release conditions include reporting relationships with women and authorizing his case management team to monitor his telecommunications activity.
Some McGill students told CBC they were troubled that the university had not informed them of Ewert’s history. They were particularly concerned that women might interact with him in group assignments or individual meetings without knowing about his convictions.
Those concerns should not be dismissed. The crimes were serious, and the reported parole conditions and concerns about Ewert’s interactions with women warrant serious attention. Students also shouldn’t be expected to ignore their own sense of vulnerability simply because someone has been granted parole.
But there is another side to the story. Other students told CBC that their experiences with Ewert had been positive. They admired his efforts to pursue an education and believed he could offer a valuable perspective to their studies. His lawyer, Nora Demnati, argued that rehabilitation requires society to give people the opportunity to rebuild their lives rather than permanently treating them as outcasts. Both positions merit consideration.
Law schools teach students about criminal responsibility, sentencing, parole, public protection and the possibility of rehabilitation. Yet these subjects can remain abstract until students encounter the complex circumstances in which legal principles must be applied.
A classmate who has experienced imprisonment and is attempting to reintegrate into society could offer a perspective unavailable from textbooks alone. Such an individual might help future lawyers understand the consequences of incarceration, the obstacles to reintegration and the limitations of risk assessment. Students might also learn that supporting rehabilitation does not require minimizing victims’ suffering or denying the seriousness of an offender’s conduct.
This would not mean turning Ewert into a teaching exhibit or expecting him to discuss his crimes. Nor should his classmates be required to participate in any arrangement that makes them uncomfortable. The educational opportunity lies in confronting the broader issues, not in compelling anyone to engage personally with a specific offender.
The distinction matters. Education can benefit from difficult experiences without making any individual student responsible for another person’s rehabilitation.
Two California decisions provide a useful framework for assessing the responsibilities of institutions when there is a foreseeable risk of violence.
In
Tarasoff v. Regents of the University of California, 17 Cal. 3d 425 (1976), the California Supreme Court considered a case in which a university psychologist was told that his patient intended to kill a young woman. The woman was not warned, and the patient subsequently killed her.
The court held that when a therapist determines, or reasonably should determine, that a patient poses a danger of violence to another person, the therapist must exercise reasonable care to protect the potential victim. Depending on the circumstances, appropriate measures may include warning the intended victim, notifying the police or taking other reasonable steps. The principle is that confidentiality cannot invariably take precedence over preventing foreseeable serious harm.
A later decision,
Regents of the University of California v. Superior Court (Rosen), 4 Cal. 5th 607 (2018), addressed universities’ responsibilities. Katherine Rosen was seriously injured in an attack by another student whose concerning behaviour had previously come to the attention of university personnel. The California Supreme Court held that, in appropriate circumstances, universities have a duty to protect students from foreseeable violence in classrooms and curricular activities.
The decision did not require universities to disclose every student’s criminal history, nor did it make institutions automatically liable whenever a student harms another. Rather, it recognized that a university’s relationship with its students can entail responsibilities to take reasonable precautions against foreseeable violence.
These California authorities are not binding on Canadian courts. They nevertheless provide a useful starting point for discussion of institutional responsibility, risk and the protection of students.
Applied cautiously to the McGill controversy, they suggest that the relevant question is not simply whether Ewert has a criminal record, but whether the risk of harm is sufficiently foreseeable to require reasonable protective measures.
The duty-to-warn principle should not be used to justify publicly identifying everyone who has committed a serious offence. A criminal conviction, even a disturbing one, does not, by itself, establish that a person will commit another crime. Indiscriminate disclosure can undermine rehabilitation, expose people to harassment and turn a sentence of imprisonment into a permanent punishment that extends beyond the law’s requirements.
Equally, an institution should not conceal a credible and serious threat merely to avoid controversy.
When specific information indicates that an identifiable person may be at risk, those responsible should assess the circumstances and take reasonable action. Depending on the situation, this may include notifying the person at risk, restricting specific interactions, consulting parole authorities or implementing an individualized safety plan. Any disclosure should be proportionate to the risk and consistent with applicable privacy and legal obligations.
In Ewert’s case, the reported concerns about his interactions with women and his parole conditions make it especially important that the relevant authorities communicate appropriately and that supervision be taken seriously. However, the public information in the CBC report is insufficient to establish that McGill knew of a specific imminent threat or was legally obliged to warn every student.
The university should have clear procedures for assessing such situations, protecting students and responding to concerns without automatically excluding someone who is attempting to rehabilitate himself.
The challenge is to avoid two equally unhelpful responses: assuming that a person convicted of a terrible crime can never change, or assuming that a decision to grant parole means all concerns about future risk have vanished.
Rehabilitation does not guarantee safety. Nor is a criminal record proof that future violence is inevitable. That is why supervision, careful assessment and proportionate safeguards matter.
Law students should be able to examine these competing principles in a real-world context. They should learn that the law must protect potential victims while preserving the possibility of rehabilitation for those who have committed serious crimes. They should also understand that one person’s rights do not automatically extinguish the legitimate interests of others.
McGill’s experience could serve as a valuable lesson in precisely these tensions. It should not be reduced to a contest between those who support Ewert and those who fear him.
If the duty to warn is properly understood, credible threats are addressed and reasonable safeguards are in place, the presence of a formerly incarcerated person in a law faculty need not be viewed solely as a danger. It can also be an opportunity for students to confront the difficult questions that lawyers, judges, parole officials and society must answer.
The objective should not be to guarantee that every student feels comfortable in every circumstance. It should be to ensure that no credible risk is ignored, no person is condemned to permanent exclusion without justification and that the pursuit of rehabilitation does not come at the expense of public safety.
That is a lesson worth learning in law school, and one the legal profession itself should never forget.
John L. Hill practised and taught prison law until his retirement. He holds a JD from Queen’s and an LLM in constitutional law from Osgoode Hall. He is also the author of Pine Box Parole: Terry Fitzsimmons and the Quest to End Solitary Confinement (Durvile & UpRoute Books). His most recent book, Acts of Darkness
(Durvile & UpRoute), was shortlisted as one of five nominees for the Crime Writers of Canada’s Brass Knuckles Award for Best Nonfiction Crime Book.
Contact him at johnlornehill@hotmail.com.
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