Why Canada must legally recognize femicide

Violence thrives in silence, and when legal systems fail to name gender-based killings for what they are, that silence becomes state-sanctioned.

In 2014, while offering pro bono family law support in Brazil, I met a woman attempting to leave an abusive relationship. What she shared with me has stayed with me since: when she was six years old, her father killed her mother and then took his own life. Raised by both sides of the family, she lived in the contradiction of unspoken trauma.

On her father’s side, she was told, “He killed for love. She cheated on him.”

On her mother’s side: “That wasn’t love. You don’t kill someone you love.”

But no one gave her the words to name what happened. She grew up in confusion. Years later, she entered another abusive relationship. That’s because when violence is not named, it is not interrupted. And what remains unchallenged, society repeats.

That story is not an outlier. Instead, it reflects a systemic failure and a legislative gap extending far beyond Brazil’s borders, including Canada.

Why naming violence matters

In 2015, Brazil passed legislation classifying femicide, the killing of a woman because of her gender, as a legally distinct and aggravated form of homicide. The law increased penalties when the killing involved pregnancy, disability, or children present, and mandated specific protective measures.

More than a criminal law reform, the law gave language to survivors and legitimacy to their experiences. Naming the crime didn’t just guide prosecution; it changed the national conversation.

In Canada, we haven’t made that leap. While there have been significant advocacy efforts, femicide remains legally undefined in our Criminal Code.

Between 2011 and 2021, more than 1,100 women and girls were killed in Canada, most by current or former intimate partners. In 2024 alone, 142 women and girls were killed, many in acts of domestic violence and in circumstances that reflect clear gender-based motivation.

Yet, our legal framework does not call it femicide. Instead, the crimes are processed generically.

This absence of legal recognition has three major consequences:

• Invisibility in data and policy: Without a legal name, it’s harder to track patterns or tailor prevention
• Gaps in prosecution: Sentences may not reflect the true nature of the crime
• Cultural denial: When the law fails to name the problem, so does the public narrative

A missed opportunity

In R. v. Stairs in 2022, the Supreme Court of Canada examined whether a warrantless search violated section 8 of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. In the case, police had responded to a civilian report of domestic violence. The accused had previously been reported for abuse. Fearing for the woman’s safety, officers entered the home, found her with visible injuries, and discovered methamphetamine.

Although the majority recognized the seriousness of domestic violence, the ruling fell short of establishing clear, victim-centred guidelines for law enforcement. The Court’s emphasis on privacy — while critical in most contexts — arguably overprotects the accused in intimate partner violence cases where hesitation could cost lives. Three justices dissented, arguing that the search lacked sufficient imminence. A concurring opinion by Justice Côté noted the ambiguity in the legal framework surrounding such searches.

R. v. Stairs illustrates Canadian jurisprudence’s hesitation to fully centre the lived realities of gender-based violence.

Globally, 29 countries define femicide in law — 17 of them are in Latin America. Mexico, Argentina, Peru, Chile, and Brazil have all implemented laws specifically targeting femicide, accompanied by prevention programs, gender training for law enforcement, and public awareness campaigns.

These laws have shown results not only in increased accountability but also in reporting rates and survivor protection.

According to Statistics Canada, more than 50 per cent of femicide cases involve children witnessing or being exposed to the violence. These children often carry the trauma for life, facing elevated risks of anxiety, depression, behavioural issues, and even replicating cycles of violence in adulthood.

Recognizing femicide, therefore, is not only about punishing perpetrators. It’s also about intervening in intergenerational harm and treating gender-based violence as a public health and mental health crisis, not merely a private family matter.

Legal reform is overdue. Here’s what’s needed:

• Amend the Criminal Code to define femicide under section 222 as a distinct form of culpable homicide
• Mandate gender-sensitive police training, including the expansion of female-led investigative units
• Require rehabilitation programs for offenders that address gender equity and prevention

More than law — it’s about narrative

The law is more than a tool of punishment; it is a symbol of what a society recognizes, values, and refuses to tolerate.

Naming femicide would give police and prosecutors a clearer legal mandate. It would allow national institutions to track data, guide training, and resource intervention. It would offer survivors and families the dignity of being seen and shift public understanding from viewing gender violence as a private tragedy to recognizing it as a structural injustice.

We need a law that reflects the reality on the ground. It could save lives. Because silence kills, naming the crime is the first step in preventing it.

Breaking the silence is how we begin to change the system.

This editorial was originally published in the Ontario Bar Association’s magazine, Just.