Geographical barriers have been very significant, because of the requirement to live in the national capital region. I can't speak for the financial one. There was once a case in Vancouver where a very distinguished lawyer got named to the court, and his wife asked if he had any idea how much a judge made. He had to scramble to try to get himself unappointed when he realized that he wasn't prepared for that salary cut.
Most of the people who apply, obviously, are aware of what it will mean. If they've been earning a lot of money, they're quite prepared not to. If they're going to get an increase, that's good too.
I think it's the geographical barrier, and the fear of the loneliness of it. Many of these candidates, these successful judges, are very sociable people. They're in the law because they care about people and they see the law as a way of making people's lives better. The constraints on a Supreme Court of Canada judge in terms of how they socialize—sitting around the bar, chewing the fat with people—is also a concern for some, and how that will affect them.
One thing we find—and we ask the candidates how they anticipate making the transition—is that most of them have had serious discussions with their families and with their children. They're quite realistic about what it will be. I've suggested that it would be great if we could get some retired justices from the Supreme Court to go out and do public events around the country and talk about that life, to try to answer people's questions and address their doubts.
At the end of the day, for some people, it is a significant sacrifice. Some are willing to do it and some are not, just like many lawyers want to be judges and others don't.
It's a matter of making sure that nobody who could make a contribution, or who would want to, is deterred from putting themselves forward. That's the key, I think.