Twenty thousand dollars. That’s what federal human rights complainants can receive for pain and suffering when they prove discrimination — the same amount since 1998, back when gas cost 65 cents a litre and a shiny new car could be had for under $15,000.
It’s easy to see why advocacy groups wanted a court to strike down these caps as unconstitutional. The amount feels insulting in 2025, especially when lawyers regularly secure much larger awards for comparable harm in court. But a Federal Court judge was right to dismiss their Charter challenge last week, not because the caps are fair, but because the Charter isn’t the right wrench for this particular bolt.
A Charter challenge can’t be the go-to solution. There are other tools in our toolbox — ones that might actually work better.
The seductive appeal of Charter challenges
Charter challenges have an undeniable allure. They promise sweeping change, constitutional vindication, and the moral high ground all wrapped up in a tidy legal package. Win a Charter case and you don’t just change policy — you establish a fundamental right that future governments can’t easily undo.
But this appeal can blind us to more practical solutions. The Public Service Alliance of Canada and Parkdale Community Legal Services spent years building a constitutional case, complete with expert witnesses and statistical analyses, when they could have spent that same energy lobbying Parliament directly.
These groups argued that $20,000 caps violate equality rights because they create inferior treatment compared to common law remedies. Yet they were asking judges to do what elected representatives should do: set compensation levels for public policy programs.
Missing the forest for one tree
The court identified the deeper flaw in their approach. By fixating on damages caps, the challengers ignored the broader remedial landscape of human rights law. Federal human rights complaints don’t just result in monetary awards — they can force employers to stop discriminatory practices, provide denied opportunities, compensate for lost wages, and cover additional expenses.
This matters more than the dollar figure suggests. A $20,000 award might feel inadequate, but an order requiring systemic changes to hiring practices could prevent hundreds of future cases. A directive to provide workplace accommodations might transform an entire organization’s culture. And isn’t that the real goal?
The constitutional kitchen sink
The constitutional challenge also suffered from trying to be everything to everyone. The groups claimed the caps discriminated against all successful human rights complainants, regardless of which protected ground formed the basis of their complaint — race, gender, disability, age, religion, and more.
This kitchen-sink approach backfired. As the court noted, different protected groups face different types of historical disadvantage and discrimination. Treating them as an undifferentiated mass “flattens the experiences of discrimination” rather than addressing the specific challenges each group faces.
It’s like arguing that all prescription medications should cost the same because sick people deserve equal treatment. The impulse toward fairness is admirable, but it ignores the reality that different conditions require different treatments at different costs.
The political solution hiding in plain sight
Parliament has already shown it can adjust these caps when it chooses to. The amounts were raised from $5,000 to $20,000 in 1998 — proof that the legislative process works when there’s sufficient political will.
Two former Supreme Court justices have recommended eliminating the caps entirely. The current government could introduce legislation tomorrow to raise or remove them. No constitutional interpretation required, no years of litigation, no risk of unintended consequences from judicial intervention.
But legislative change requires political courage and public advocacy. It’s messier than constitutional litigation, involving committee hearings, stakeholder consultations, and the unpredictable dynamics of parliamentary politics. It also requires sustained pressure from unions, advocacy groups, and affected individuals.
The Charter route looked cleaner and more certain. It wasn’t.
What really matters
The Federal Court’s rejection of this challenge doesn’t mean the caps are appropriate or that discrimination victims are being fairly compensated. It means the solution lies in political advocacy, not constitutional law.
Smart HR leaders already understand this instinctively. When workplace policies need changing, they don’t usually file lawsuits — they build coalitions, present business cases, and work through organizational change processes. They know that lasting solutions require buy-in from decision-makers, not judicial orders that breed resentment.
The same principle applies here. Twenty-seven years of stagnant damages caps represent a failure of political will, not constitutional interpretation. The path forward runs through Parliament Hill, not the courthouse steps — where the real work of democracy gets done, one conversation at a time.
