In a country that prides itself on the rule of law, the idea that someone could be tried in complete secrecy, with no docket number, no public record, and no media access, sends a chill down the spine. When this actually happened in Quebec, it wasn’t some fringe conspiracy, it was sanctioned by the court system. And when Canada’s national broadcaster, the CBC, had a chance to shine a light on this scandal, its actions suggest it would have preferred the public stay in the dark.
The case, now widely known under the dry title Canadian Broadcasting Corp. v. Named Person (2024 SCC 21), revolved around a former police informant who was criminally charged. Because of their past role as a confidential source, the proceedings took place entirely in camera, meaning the public was completely shut out. Not only was the media barred from the courtroom, but the very existence of the trial was hidden. No court file was posted. No redacted record was provided. As far as the public was concerned, it never happened.
The Quebec Court of Appeal, to its credit, blew the whistle on this approach by referring to the original trial as a “secret trial.” This was the first time most Canadians became aware that such a thing had occurred. The Supreme Court of Canada later weighed in, rebuking the lower court, not for conducting the hearing in secret, but for calling it what it was: a “secret trial.” 
That may seem Orwellian, but the Court’s rationale was more subtle. It ruled that while informer privilege requires exceptional confidentiality, courts still have a duty to maintain public trust. Even when trials are closed, there must be some record, something the public can see, even if redacted, to preserve our open court tradition.
In theory, this should have been a moment for reflection, a case study in the difficult balance between national security, source protection, and civil liberties. But here’s where it gets murky. Despite being one of the applicants that challenged the secrecy of the original ruling, CBC took steps that now appear self-serving, if not outright hypocritical.
According to columnist Devin Drover in the Toronto Sun, CBC actively resisted wider media access to court materials, invoking “privacy concerns.” In effect, Canada’s state broadcaster was pushing to limit scrutiny of a case that raised serious constitutional issues. The CBC, a publicly funded institution tasked with informing Canadians, chose to act like a gatekeeper, not a watchdog.
This fits a pattern. CBC has become increasingly selective about the transparency it demands from others. When access to information benefits their narrative or branding, they champion openness. But when scrutiny might reflect poorly on them or their allies, they retreat behind process, privilege, or legalese.
Let’s not forget that this is the same broadcaster that demanded access to internal Conservative Party documents during past election cycles, crying foul over transparency. Yet when the tables turn, when it’s time to examine how justice operates in the shadows, they suddenly become squeamish.
What makes this worse is that CBC still enjoys hundreds of millions of dollars in taxpayer funding annually. That’s not a partisan talking point, that’s your money and mine. Canadians deserve a public broadcaster that defends civil liberties, that challenges opaque government behavior, and that stands unequivocally on the side of the citizen. Instead, we are seeing a publicly subsidized institution that often operates as an extension of the political class, sometimes shielding the very structures it should question.
The Supreme Court’s ruling ultimately struck the right chord. The Court clarified that while informer privilege justifies some confidentiality, the entire legal system cannot become invisible. There must be a public-facing case file, a redacted version of rulings, and a process that respects both justice and transparency. In other words, secrecy may be necessary in narrow cases, but never the complete erasure of public oversight.
But Canadians should still be outraged that it came to this.
That it took multiple appeals, media litigation, and a Supreme Court ruling just to confirm that a trial even took place is a damning indictment of our justice system’s drift away from its foundational principles. Judicial discretion is one thing; judicial secrecy is quite another. It opens the door to abuse, especially when protected by the veneer of privilege.
And we must ask: who is watching the watchers?
This case highlights something conservatives and libertarians have warned about for years, an unholy convergence between the bureaucracy, the judiciary, and the state-funded media apparatus. Together, they can form an elite ecosystem that is unaccountable, self-reinforcing, and alarmingly opaque. When media organizations like CBC stop asking hard questions and start shielding institutions from scrutiny, democratic oversight collapses.
This isn’t about tearing down the courts or abolishing the CBC. But it is about restoring balance and accountability. Conservatives in particular must champion the open court principle, not just as a legal doctrine, but as a cultural value. Justice must not only be done; it must be seen to be done. That means no secret trials. No vanishing court files. No unexamined uses of state power behind closed doors.
And it certainly means no more selective outrage from our publicly funded media.
Canada’s justice system was tested in this case, and found wanting. Fortunately, the Supreme Court stepped in. But the fact that this was necessary at all should concern everyone, regardless of politics. Liberty is not a left–right issue. It is a Canadian issue. And unless more citizens, journalists, and legislators speak up, the next “secret trial” might not come to light until it’s too late.
