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| Heidi J. T. Exner |
On the second day of this 12-hour exam, a tragic and jarring incident occurred: a fellow examinee collapsed from cardiac arrest while the test continued unabated. This stark event, reported widely in American media, revealed the harshness and, frankly, the indifference embedded in the licensing process for future American lawyers. Test-takers were forced to carry on even as emergency responders struggled to provide aid. This was not a moment of compassion or humanity — it was a cold, relentless adherence to procedure at the expense of human life.
For Canadian audiences, it might be tempting to dismiss this as an American problem, given the infamously onerous nature of the U.S. bar exam compared to our own licensing requirements to practise law. However, this incident should provoke reflection here at home, too. Canada may not subject aspiring lawyers to the same punishing ordeal, but how we mould future legal professionals through law school culture, articling or clerkship experiences, and early career socialization is equally worthy of scrutiny. Our legal education and professional environments often sustain a veneer of nobility and virtue that can mask troubling realities.
The Canadian legal profession routinely and proudly touts itself as “noble” and “honourable.” Lawyers are taught to champion justice, uphold truth and serve the public good. Yet, time and again, the profession’s actors behave in ways that strain these claims. There is an undeniable hypocrisy in a system that frequently prioritizes its own self-preservation, economic interests and power over the very principles it proclaims.
Consider first the gruelling pressure cooker of legal education and certification, epitomized by bar exams like New York’s. The refusal to pause for a life-threatening emergency to preserve the sanctity of the exam — or even the dignity of human life — exposes a fixation on ritual and gatekeeping over compassion or common sense. This points to a broader professional culture in which endurance and obedience are valued more than well-being, and where the human cost of “passing the test” is disregarded.
But this inclination toward cruelty or indifference extends beyond licensing. In law firms and courtrooms across North America, the profession often rewards aggressive, win-at-all-costs attitudes or strategic moral compromise. Lawyers sometimes zealously defend clients or positions they may personally find objectionable, justified by a duty to provide robust representation. Yet, this breeds public cynicism: why depict the profession as a force for justice when ethical flexibility, loophole exploitation and adversarial gamesmanship often dominate?
In Canada, we also face challenges from within our own systems. Canadian lawyers must navigate complex professional conduct rules balancing free expression, civility and an ideal of improving public respect for law. Yet, many practitioners experience culture clashes, microaggressions and systemic pressures that undercut these ideals. Meanwhile, legal regulators are also reporting an increase in complaints against lawyers, reflecting public concern over behaviour that diminishes trust toward the profession. When the public loses confidence in legal representatives and the justice system itself, the legitimacy of law as a social institution is jeopardized.
The Federation of Law Societies of Canada has publicly condemned attacks on judicial independence and legal professionals in the U.S., reinforcing the principle that lawyers and judges must be free from undue influence or retaliation. But this stance invites self-reflection about how well we uphold these values within our borders. Are we, too, complicit in sustaining a professional culture that sometimes exploits power asymmetries, discourages dissenting voices or tolerates ethical lapses to maintain status quos?
American legal scholar Ekow N. Yankah discusses a concept called “legal hypocrisy,” which I believe helps to crystallize and articulate this problem. Legal hypocrisy occurs when a legal system or its practitioners proclaim certain moral values but routinely act in ways contrary to those values, either willfully or through complacency. This form of hypocrisy erodes trust more profoundly than individual failures within the profession because it is systemic. When the public perceives law as a tool for power rather than a means of justice, cynicism and disengagement result, threatening the rule of law itself.
Canadian lawyers are not immune to this critique. Stories of misconduct involving financial gain, sex and abuse of power exist here just as elsewhere, reminding us that profession-wide honour is aspirational, not guaranteed. Nevertheless, the legal profession’s claim to nobility demands rigorous and continuous self-examination, accountability and reform. Perhaps this should include rethinking how we educate and acculturate future lawyers, how we regulate professional conduct, and how we foster environments that prioritize well-being and dignity over mere endurance or winning.
The naked cruelty of the New York bar exam incident serves as a metaphor for these deeper issues. It challenges us to move beyond hollow slogans of nobility and to face uncomfortable truths about the culture and behaviours within the legal profession. If we truly believe in justice, respect and public service, then we must embody those values consistently, from the classroom to the courtroom, and not merely invoke them when convenient.
I have often been met with snickers and scoffs when I have stated over the years that the legal profession’s self-description as “noble” is fundamentally hypocritical if its actors behave otherwise. You might be reading this and reacting with similar snickers or indignant scoffs. Or perhaps you might set aside pride and recognize that Canadian lawyers, regulators, educators and students have an opportunity to embrace this moment as a call to self-reflection and change.
After all, it is only by confronting uncomfortable realities that the profession may rebuild public trust and live up to the ideals it claims to hold dear. The true nobility of the legal profession lies not in self-proclamation, but rather in earnest, humble and ongoing commitment to justice, dignity and humanity.
Heidi J. T. Exner is an award-winning white-collar crime fighter, and she is passionate about making the world a better place. Heidi is the founding partner of Ethical Edge PI & Corporate Advisors, the founder and chair of the Exner Foundation, and she serves on JURIST’s Alumni Board and the Policy & Advocacy Committee at the Canadian Blockchain Consortium. She welcomes you to find her on LinkedIn or check out her biography page on Ethical Edge’s website.
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