On Nov. 14, 1999, Dmitri “Matti” Baranovski, 15, was severely beaten in G. Ross Lord Park, near his North York home. By dawn next day he was dead.
Three young men have pleaded not guilty to second-degree murder. They are Daniel Weiz, age 22; Meir Mariani, 20; and William “Lee” Cochrane, 20.
A jury will properly decide their guilt or innocence after a trial in adult court, Justice David McCombs presiding.
When Mariani and Cochrane were arrested, they were under 18. Because they were charged under the Young Offenders Act, it was against the law to report their names.
But last fall, the pair was ordered to stand trial in adult court. That allows media outlets to identify them during their trial, now under way.
(Weiz can be named in news stories because he was an adult at the time of Baranovski’s death, and has been in the adult justice system since his arrest.)
The three accused face a maximum sentence of life in prison, with parole eligibility after seven years.
Had Mariani and Cochrane been tried and convicted in youth court, they would have faced a maximum of seven years in jail, with no parole.
But Canada’s young offender law is about to change. On Tuesday, the Youth Criminal Justice Act (YCJA), approved by Parliament, will replace the Young Offenders Act.
The new law, covering young offenders from the age of 12 to their 18th birthday, isn’t retroactive. So it won’t have any impact on media reporting of the Baranovski case, or other current youth justice cases.
To gauge how the new law will work, let’s imagine Baranovski was beaten to death next Tuesday when the YCJA is the law of the land.
What impact would the new law have on media reporting of the brutal attack? The short answer: It would have a stifling effect.
That’s the opinion of the Star’s lawyer, Bert Bruser, of the Toronto-based law firm of Blake, Cassels & Graydon.
“Although the new law is unnecessarily complex,” Bruser says in a memo to the newsroom, “there is one overriding principle: A young offender cannot be identified until a sentence has been imposed, and even then, only in limited circumstances.”
In other words, Mariani and Cochrane couldn’t be identified in the media during their trial.
More alarming, perhaps, is the fact that under the new law, victim Baranovski’s identity might still be secret.
The old law was silent on whether a dead youth victim could be identified in news stories.
That meant journalists were free to put a human face on the victim by giving him a name. From the day he died, Baranovski’s identity was public.
But under the YCJA, Parliament would prohibit the media from naming Baranovski unless both his parents consented.
What would happen under the new law if neither parent or only one agreed to have a dead teenager’s name made public?
Would the law be respected if, say, a mayor’s daughter had been murdered, yet media outlets were legally barred from identifying the victim or family?
Beats me.
So much for a clampdown on identification of young suspects or victims in serious cases such as murder, attempted murder, manslaughter or aggravated sexual assault.
The YCJA touches witnesses, too.
Under the old law, after a young offender was transferred to adult court, lawyer Bruser notes the media routinely reported names of witnesses.
In the Baranovski case, the Star has published names and photos of young persons who have testified at the current trial, including some who are younger than 18. Under the new law, their names no longer could be published without consent.
To Bruser, the publication bans called for under the new law are “onerous.”
No matter how heinous the charges, he says, young offenders no longer will be identified during their trial.
What are readers to make of news stories about court testimony of witnesses who have no names?
Not much, methinks.
One more kicker.
Why is Parliament shielding the names of young victims or witnesses only when the crime was committed by a young offender, yet allowing identification when an adult is to blame?
“This is illogical,” Bruser says.
Overall, the Star’s lawyer believes that because the YCJA imposes “significant restrictions on reporting, it’s arguably unconstitutional. It is fair to expect that the constitutionality of the legislation will be challenged before long.”
The ombud’s office has long argued there are reasons for society to shield identities of young people charged in minor cases. It’s a stigma they needn’t have to bear.
But suppressing names of young suspects or important witnesses in high-profile major crimes, and potentially obliterating the human faces of young victims is hardly in the public interest.
It’s a muzzle on the media, and an affront to readers who deserve to know basic facts about serious youth crimes.
