Self-Defence in Canada: When Protection Becomes Prosecution

The Lindsay Crossbow Case: A Trigger for National Debate

A dramatic incident in Lindsay, Ontario has once again reignited the fierce debate over how far Canadians can go in defending themselves and their homes. Michael Kyle Breen, 41, was accused of breaking into an apartment on August 18, damaging a window and screen and carrying a crossbow. Inside, tenant Jeremy David McDonald, 44, confronted him. Now, McDonald faces charges of aggravated assault and assault with a weapon, accused of endangering Breen’s life—even though Breen was the intruder. Meanwhile, Breen himself faces charges including break and enter, possession of a weapon for a dangerous purpose, mischief under $5,000, and breach of probation.

This case starkly raises the question: if someone breaks in wielding a crossbow, is defending yourself justifiable—or does the law punish you for defending your life?

Chelsey “Skully” Arkarakas: A Survivor’s Tale of Self-Defence

Through my podcast, I had the privilege of interviewing Chelsey “Skully” Arkarakas twice. Her story is both harrowing and empowering—a true testament to the desperate balance self-defence forces many to navigate.

Chelsey, an artist in a tumultuous domestic situation, left a physically abusive relationship but was lured back one fateful day. On November 16, 2020, her ex-boyfriend invited her over under the pretense of apology. When she arrived, he brutally beat her for 25 minutes, proclaiming he intended to kill her. In a fight for her life, Chelsey stabbed him and fled to a neighbor’s house for help. She was subsequently charged with second-degree murder, but after seven grueling months in court, the charge was dropped.

Her courage to stand up and survive—and her eventual legal vindication—richly illustrate the very real stakes in how Canadian courts interpret “reasonable force.”

My Journey: From Life Sentence to Legal Redemption

These stories hit close to home. In 2002, I was charged with for second-degree murder under circumstances I always maintained were self-defensive. After a failed trial in 2004, it wasn’t until 2010 that my appeal succeeded and the conviction was overturned.

One of the most troubling insights from that trial came from my appeal lawyer, Tim Breen. I’d referred another man—whose case shared many similarities—to him, hoping he’d find the justice I did. That man lost his appeal. When I asked why, Tim told me bluntly:

“The justice system wants to dissuade any type of animalistic action to defend yourself.”

That harsh truth underpins what’s at stake: society—and the justice system—are wary of letting self-defence become an excuse for violence, even when it is instinctive, primal, and necessary.

What Does “Reasonable Force” Mean in Canadian Law?

Section 34 of Canada’s Criminal Code provides the legal framework for self-defense, stating individuals may use reasonable force to protect themselves. But “reasonable” is murky—it’s interpreted after the fact in courtrooms, detached from the fear and split-second decisions of the moment.

• In Chelsey’s case, the justice system ultimately recognized her actions as necessary and dropped the charges.

• In mine, it took eight long years for the system to acknowledge the same.

• In McDonald’s case, we’ll soon see if the law leans toward sympathy for defending one’s home—or initiates prosecution.

Why These Stories Matter

These cases illustrate a chilling reality: self-defence in Canada is uncertain terrain. The law offers protection, but only if your fear, reaction, and actions meet a nebulous standard of reasonableness.

• McDonald’s fate may influence how future home-defence cases are judged.

• Chelsey’s story is a reminder that victims may fight back—and that sometimes, that’s the right and only choice.

• My own experience shows how the system can fail survivors, and why persistence matters.

In moments of terror, it’s unreasonable to expect someone to weigh legal statutes against survival. Yet that’s exactly what many are forced to do—in the aftermath, under the dispassionate eye of the law.

Final Reflection: Voices of Survival in Defense

As the Lindsay case unfolds, I can’t help but think of Chelsey’s courage, my own years lost then regained, and the silent fears of all Canadians who might have only seconds to act—and endless months or years to justify those actions. The question remains: when push comes to shove, can you choose survival without becoming a criminal?