Earlier this month, on May 15th, 2026, the Supreme Court of Canada delivered a landmark judgement, establishing a new tort, and with that, modernizing the landscape of civil law. In a nutshell, survivors of intimate partner violence (IPV) can now sue for damages and have their loss recognized in dollars.
The case follows Mr. Ahluwalia and Ms. Ahluwalia who were married for 16 years. For the entirety of their marriage, Ms. Ahluwalia was abused by her husband, subject to his physical assaults, sexual coercion, humiliation, and isolation from her friends and family.
Unfortunately, the Ahluwalia case is not unique. Family violence is a pervasive problem in our country. In 2024 alone, over 128,000 Canadians were victims of intimate partner violence, with women and girls affected at rates 3.5x higher than men and boys. These staggering statistics underpin the genesis of a new tort: intimate partner violence.
The Three-Part IPV Test
Before money can be involved, a plaintiff must prove three elements to establish the tort of IPV:
- The abusive conduct arises in an intimate partnership or its aftermath;
- The defendant intentionally engages in that conduct; and
- The conduct, on an objective measure, constitutes coercive control.
As far as legal tests go, this one is fairly straightforward. But what even is ‘coercive control’? I’ve read the case, so you don’t have to, and three concepts stood out to me, consistently woven throughout the SCC’s reasons, that anchor the notion of coercive control: (1) subordination; (2) loss of autonomy; and (3) loss of dignity. These three concepts are deeply intertwined, forming the tortious basis for IPV.
We know that coercive control results from incidences of physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. However, the SCC affirms that more discreet, nefarious forms of coercion manifest themselves in intimate relationships through economic control or close monitoring of day-to-day movements. Coercive control casts a wide net, encompassing conduct as varied as denying a partner recreational opportunities to threatening to harm or abduct the children.
The recognition of the tort of IPV—with its focus on coercive control—is not happenstance. The concept of coercive control is gaining considerable traction in the world of law, with Parliament’s Bill C-16 introducing significant proposals to the Criminal Code. Bill C-16 (i.e., the Protecting Victims Act) proposes a new criminal offense prohibiting patterns of coercive or controlling conduct against intimate partners (more on this in an upcoming article).
Why Existing Torts are Insufficient
The main point of tension in Ahluwalia was whether existing torts and remedies negate the need to recognize a new tort of IPV. This is a fair concern, and the ultimate reason why three Justices dissented against the recognition. If existing torts, such as assault, battery, and intentional infliction of mental suffering (IIMS) capture conduct that partly overlaps with IPV, why do we even need a new tort?
The answer lies in what that approach demands of plaintiffs; forcing their evidence into the rigid confines of existing torts, only to obtain an incomplete remedy:
- The tort of battery is inadequate, because the tort is restricted to protecting one’s physicalautonomy, thereby failing to encompass one’s agency and freedom to make one’s own decisions within an intimate partnership.
- The tort of assault falls short, leaving unaddressed the many forms that IPV can take: manipulation, isolation, and financial abuse, whose cumulative coercive effects may only become evident over time.
- The tort of intentional infliction of mental suffering (IIMS) is also insufficient. IIMS is constrained to emotional harm and does not encompass the deprivation of autonomy and dignity central to IPV. IIMS requires that the defendant’s conduct be ‘flagrant or outrageous’ resulting in a ‘visible and provable illness’. These requirements are ill-suited towards IPV survivors living in anxiety, fear, and subordination, and whose emotional temperament may not rise to the level of a visible and provable psychological illness.
What sets the tort of IPV apart from its kindred torts is that it will often involve a pattern of coercive wrongdoing sustained over a period of time, unlike assault or battery which tend to be ‘snapshot’ torts that capture an isolated incident.
In short, the tort of IPV distills what works in assault, battery, and IIMS, while filling in their deficiencies.
What About the Criminal Law?
Justice Kasirer, writing for the majority, recognizes criminal law’s value in family violence cases, but also, its limitations.
On one hand, Parliamenthas increasingly signalled strong condemnation for family violence. In 1983, the law was changed to criminalize rape within marriage, and over the years, new offenses with higher maximum penalties have been added to our Criminal Code todenounce and deter family violence. The protective scope of criminal law also extends to no-contact orders, peace bonds, publication bans, prohibition orders, and probation conditions. And yet, that’s not enough.
On the other hand, criminal law punishes conduct as an offense against the public good, meaning it cannot compensate individuals. As the SCC put it, individuals “who seek monetary compensation for the loss associated with intimate partner violence often find themselves left behind by private law” (para 11). Thus, tort law can fill the gap criminal law can’t.
The tort of IPV is positioned as a private law remedy. It lives in the civil realm, not the criminal one. Its purpose is compensatory, not punitive. Ultimately, the new tort of IPV acts as a “one-stop-shop”, removing the barrier of navigating a thicket of torts, and enabling Canadians to simultaneously sue civilly whilst criminal charges are pursued.
These articles are provided for general information purposes only and are not intended as legal advice.