legal innovation

Indigenous Digital Equity: The barriers Indigenous communities face accessing internet

I spent most of my 2L year back on my home reserve in Southern Alberta. It’s about a 45-minute drive to Lethbridge. My internet connection was a challenge when trying to listen to lectures or have a strong connection for a zoom call. Internet connectivity for Indigenous Peoples in Canada has long been difficult to implement due to many environmental and socio-economic factors such as remoteness of communities, difficulty gaining first-mile access, unreliable networks, slow speeds, expensive equipment, and high data costs.

Compared to the other infrastructure problems faced by Indigenous communities, the internet might not seem like a big problem. But COVID-19 has shown that when people don’t have equal access, they lose the same opportunities. Remote learning is now crucial to getting a quality education, but poor internet connections or a lack of a connection in the first place are holding many Indigenous children behind their peers.

A lack of internet also affects those looking for work. COVID-19 has led to many layoffs, and the internet had become one of the only reliable sources to find emplpoyment. This lack of resources is one of the reasons why unemployment is already higher in Indigenous communities than in the population at large. Even the transition to working from home means a greater need for high-speed internet, but this poses another disadvantage for rural homes that cannot access a connection to telecommute. The province says 61 percent of B.C. Indigenous communities lack access that meets the standard, although the council notes that number may count communities with just one broadband access point, meaning there is one place in town with adequate Internet, but it’s not in every home, school, or office. [1]

The geography of remote and northern Canadian communities implies transportation access problems, long cable builds, and harsh climate. Building sustainable broadband infrastructure capable of telehealth delivery in northern and remote Indigenous communities is and will continue to be costly. [2] The economic situation combined with the high cost of connectivity suggests that that many remote and northern Indigenous communities and community members may be struggling to pay the high costs of using digital technologies. At the same time, Indigenous community members and Indigenous communities have demonstrated that they are eager users of digital technologies and they will adopt them when they are affordable, reliable, and meet their needs. [3]

The UN has declared access to the internet a human right. This declaration is formed on the basis that having access to the internet means being able to exercise other fundamental human rights and freedoms (e.g. right to freedom of speech). For Indigenous people, the internet is a tool for cultural survival, acting as a hub for Indigenous languages and traditional stories. Without leaving their community, Indigenous youth and adults are able to learn skills, meet Indigenous role models, obtain a degree/diploma, access healthcare, and share their stories with the world. [4]

The inclusion of Indigenous voices on important issues can’t be accomplished if Canada doesn’t work to close the connectivity gap. The plans must be done in coordination with Indigenous governments, letting them lead any project or policy that may affect their communities or land. Without access to broadband, Indigenous peoples will continue to be left behind.

[1] Katie Hyslop, “Closing BC’s Indigenous Internet Gap” The Tyee (12 December 2019) online: https://thetyee.ca/News/2019/12/12/Closing-BC-Indigenous-Internet-Gap/

[2] O’Donnell, Susan “Digital technology adoption in remote and northern Indigenous communities in Canada.” Canadian Sociological Association 2016 Annual Conference. University of Calgary, Calgary, Canada. 2016.

[3] ibid 

[4] Emma Greenfield, “Digital Equity for Indigenous Communities” Social Connectedness (7 July 2020) online: https://www.socialconnectedness.org/digital-equity-for-indigenous-communities/

Technology as a Barrier to Justice: Cautioning Legal Tech Designers

Harjote Sumbal

Technology alone is not the complete solution to Canada’s access to justice problems. Usage of technology can encounter resistance, the measures may ultimately be unsuccessful, and the approach can actually result in the creation of new barriers to access. Professors Roger Smith and Alan Paterson identify “digital exclusion” with its three “digital divides” as a good place to start in assessing challenges of technological reform: (1) physical access to the relevant technology, (2) the technical ability to use the relevant technology, and (3) the cultural inclination to use the relevant technology.[1] Designers of legal tech would do well to anticipate the barriers to justice their applications may create so that they can address them before they manifest. Addressing the second divide – technology itself as a barrier – should drive legal app design to ensure implementation of technology does not widen the access to justice gap further.

A successful application is driven by user demand, which in turn requires trust. Technology can indirectly risk undercutting the administration of justice and compromise user trust. Mistrust of the legal system is a noted barrier to access,[2] so the security of technological processes is essential to make user adoption a possibility. For example, Abedi, Zeleznikow, and Brien have identified three core “facets of security” Online Dispute Resolution (ODR) systems must ensure: (1) information security and confidentiality, (2) privacy of the parties involved, and (3) authentication of parties in transactions and communications.[3] If technological reforms are implemented without due consideration of security issues, legal tech may serve as an additional barrier for wary users rather than increasing access to justice.

Digital divides in accessing technology can serve as significant barriers to access. While cultural resistance speaks to the acceptance of technology by the existing legal industry structures, physical access and technical ability are both barriers for potential users that may actually want to engage with legal technology. While these digital divides can affect any given individual, their impact is likely to most strongly affect vulnerable groups like lower socioeconomic communities, elderly people, Indigenous peoples, and those with language barriers, whether they are refugees, immigrants, or citizens.[4]

In some cases, it is possible to address these barriers within the technological tool’s infrastructure. For example, the Civil Resolution Tribunal (CRT) attempts to address potential language barriers by providing information on the CRT, its process, limitation periods, and available help resources in multiple languages.[5] It also provides additional resources for Indigenous users and directs those without computers to ServiceBC locations or paper forms.[6] The CRT’s recognition of potential technological barriers is an important start. However, not all technology platforms are constructed in the same manner, nor are they as comprehensive as ODR platforms tend to be. Justice apps are more individualized in their scope and user design. For example, the MyLawBC website is designed, amongst other capabilities, to allow users to construct their wills, but offer none of the language, Indigenous, or general helper resources of the CRT described above.

The need for accessibility tailored to vulnerable populations is apparent. A 2008 Law Foundation of Ontario report stated those in vulnerable populations “need to receive direct services rather than rely on self-help”, as legal trouble often piles on to the barriers they already face.[7] As self-service is one of the key features of user-targeted legal technology to save paying legal fees, tools that are too daunting to use are essentially useless. Without specific consideration of vulnerable populations and their userability, technological reforms risk creating a further divide between users and access to justice.

Technological tools like ODR and justice applications have great potential. However, the design and conception of technological tools must consider the specific needs of vulnerable populations or they risk exacerbating the access to justice problem. In order to successfully facilitate greater access to justice, legal tech designers must exercise empathy with target populations when conceptualizing solutions.

[1] Smith, Roger & Paterson, Alan, “Face to Face Legal Services and their Alternatives: Global Lessons from the Digital Revolution” (2014), online (pdf): Strathprints <https://strathprints.strath.ac.uk/56496/1/Smith_Paterson_CPLS_Face_to_face_legal_services_and_their_alternatives.pdf> at 19.

[2] Tania Sourdin, et al, Digital Technology and Justice: Justice Apps, (Milton: Routledge, 2020) at 23.

[3] Fahimeh Abedi, John Zeleznikow & Chris Brien, “Developing Regulatory Standards for the Concept of Security in Online Dispute Resolution Systems” (2019) 35 Computer Law & Security Review 1.

[4] Sourdin, supra note 2 at 66.

[5] Civil Resolution Tribunal, “Resources” (2021), online: < https://civilresolutionbc.ca/resources/>.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Sourdin, supra note 2 at 68; See Karen Cohl & George Thomson, “Connecting Across Language and Distance: Linguistic and Rural Access to Legal Information and Services” (December 2008), online: The Law Foundation of Ontario <https://lawfoundation.on.ca/download/connecting-across-language-and-distance-2008/>.

Forced Change: Get With It or Get Left Behind

I first started working around real estate law and conveyancing in 2009.  At that time, the Land Title Office had been accepting electronic filing (e-filing) documents for a number of years, which had replaced the process before, physically land filing all documents at the appropriate registry.  There were a number of lawyers when I started who refused to e-file.  They were used to land filing.  I couldn’t understand it.  For a real estate office in North Vancouver to help someone buy a house in Kamloops, you could hit “submit” from your office or you could literally pay someone to go to the Kamloops registry and stand in line to file the application in person.  It seems like a pretty easy decision which one of those is more conducive to making money and not wasting time. But nevertheless, change is hard. A few years after that, around 2013, land filing became obsolete, and some lawyers never practiced real estate law again.

7 years later, I still work in a real estate firm. In March, the Land Title Office advised lawyers and notaries alike who practice real estate law that e-filing (which requires the used of Adobe Acrobat DC) is being replaced by Web Filing.   I have known about this since I returned to work after exams in April.  I knew this was coming. But I have done nothing, until today, to try and learn how to use the new system. I only tried today because I read some of these blog posts and realized I’m being part of the problem. Well that, and our e-filing applications started saying “this version of the form is being phased out” as of Thursday of last week, so I knew the end was near.

Why is it that although I know change is made for a reason, whether that’s to increase efficiency, help solve common mistakes or help make people’s lives easier, I still find it more of a hassle than a help?  I have been using the same process for 10 years and I know that process inside and out. Until that notice on my application that the end was coming, I had been feeling completely fine about not learning the new system. Of the 300 deals we have done over the past few months, only one was done through Web Filing.  So, I wasn’t alone.   The majority of firms were just like us: used to what we were used to with no desire to change until absolutely necessary.

Taking this class has made me realize how many areas of law could be helped by apps and more importantly, how much time could be saved. The number of times I’ve had to answer questions about what types of transactions GST gets paid on, it almost makes me upset thinking there could be a way for someone to find the answer themselves in a few short questions.  COVID-19 has created opportunities for delivery of legal services that were unheard of prior. The Land Title Office, during the pandemic, has allowed for videoconference signing with clients.  There are many additional requirements but it’s still possible where it was not before.

Between applications for easy access to information and lawyers being forced to embrace change and get uncomfortable more often, I think firms with staff and lawyers more able to respond quickly will have an upper hand.  Eventually, it will either be change, or get left behind.

Future Kamloops Mental Health Court … With Apps?

Becca Dickson

There are more than 20 designated mental health courts in Canada, none of which are in BC. Mental health courts are typically available to people who have been charged with a crime and who have mental health issues that relate to the criminal behaviour. TRU Law Professor Ruby Dhand and Kamloops lawyer Michelle Stanford are working on a proposal for a mental health court in Kamloops.

Mental health courts intend to divert people with mental health issues away from the criminal justice system and towards treatment and various supports in the community. To be sustainable, the court must be inexpensive to run, and have a measurable impact on the individual/community that it serves.

The future Kamloops mental health court could benefit from an app which streamlined its admission process. Below, I use the Nova Scotia mental health court’s admission criteria and statistics to outline why.

The Nova Scotia mental health court (now called the Dartmouth Wellness Court)  has been around for 10 years. In order for someone to participate in the court, they must be referred and deemed elibile to participate. The eligibility criteria include:

  • Being over 18 years old
  • Living in the Halifax Regional Municipality (HRM)
  • Having a substantial connection to the HRM (for example – attending school in the area)
  • Having a mental disorder that is a recognized serious and persistent mental illness and is substantially connected to the offence.
  • Crown attorney consent

In the first four years of the program 687 individuals were referred to the mental health court, and 232 of them were deemed eligible to participate. Individuals who were referred waited an average of 50.58 days before hearing whether or not they were admitted to the program.

An app which asked the user basic eligibility questions could help streamline the process. It could ask plain language questions to determine preliminary eligibility (like “How old are you?” “Do you live in the HRM?” “Do you have a mental health disorder that is clearly related to your charge?”) The app could then create a report to be emailed to the next person who needs to see it to make further eligibility determinations.

In this unprecedented era of forced justice system reform, ideas like this that would have seemed really “outside the box” before might now be pretty much “inside the box” and have a realistic chance of being implemented, if designed well.

Full Disclosure

Dave Barroqueiro,
Constructor of Legal Apps and Lover of the Digital Age

Full Disclosure: I’m not a blogger. Maybe I should be.

To blog isn’t really something I typically would do. I was never really one to keep a journal. I was never really one to comment too much in message boards, or on Facebook, or Twitter, or anything of the like. Thinking about it now, for someone who spends as much time behind a computer screen as I do, and as actively interested as I am in issues related to legal technology, digital media, intellectual property, and so on, I wouldn’t ever really say that I have much of a “web presence,” per se. Though woefully behind the curve, the importance of blogging is beginning to dawn on me, particularly given my decision to pursue a career in law — a profession that depends as much as it does on name recognition. The areas of law I’m interested in — IP, technology, legal innovation — only reinforce this further. It’s the new way of the world; time to get on the horse. One has to start somewhere… may as well be here.

Full Disclosure: I’m a bit of a computer nerd. Always have been. Always will be.

It may be difficult to believe — rugged rock n’ roll exterior and all — but I’m a pretty big computer nerd. Like, Revenge of the Nerds kind of nerd. From the time I received my first computer at age five (they didn’t come with a mouse then), there has always been something about computers that fascinated me. The very thought that this “magic box” had limitless potential to do anything my imagination could conjure up has been a driving force in my life — from dismantling and rebuilding the family computer as a child (it didn’t go over well – maybe should have asked permission), writing programs in BASIC as a nine year old, building websites and learning graphic design as a teenager (and later, as a component of my job), and now, combining my interests in the law and technology by developing a legal applications. Many don’t get a thrill out of the minutiae and tedium. I get lost in it.

Full Disclosure: I’m a bit of a dreamer.

I really like making things. Rock n’ roll songs, websites, clay sculptures, legal apps… you name it. There’s a sort-of indescribable joy about taking an idea in your head, putting it into action, and refining it to death until it becomes something tangible. It never really ever ends up manifesting itself as it did when you had originally conjured it, and that’s okay. The real fun is in the journey. As I work away at my own little legal expert system — Mobile Rights Made Easy — I’m not too worried that it isn’t exactly as I’d imagined it when we began to undertake the development of the app. While the app does less than we’d originally conceived, it does it better than I’d ever imagined. Here’s to the journey.

Full Disclosure: I have a bit of an anti-authoritarian streak.

I’m a punk rocker to the very core; an anti-traditionalist, a rogue — especially when it comes to law. I’ve never been one to buy in to the idea that, because everyone else is doing something a certain way, that it’s the right way or the best way to do it. I really hate being told what (and how) to think. It’s on this point that I butt heads with my chosen profession. As we all know, law is just about as culturally conservative and slow-moving as the professions get. We’re not supposed to like disruption. We’re not supposed to like radical change. But… you know what? I do like those things — they push and drive us to do more… to be better than we have been. The proliferation of disruptive technologies into the practice of law has already begun. As resistant as the profession has been to technological innovation and change, the cracks in the dam have begun to reveal themselves, and it is only a matter of time before the levees break. We are at an impasse: ride the wave, or be drowned by it. I plan to hang-ten. Cowabunga.