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- CCJ Academy for Law 8th Biennial Conference, Hyatt Regency Trinidad, Port of Spain 26-28 November 2025
By Sir Dennis Byron
We mark, the 20th anniversary of the Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ). The time for proving its viability has passed. The time for building upon its legacy is now. But what does that legacy require of us next? In an age of digital disruption and profound global change, where must we focus our courage? To answer that, we must first understand what we have already built.
For the past two days, this Academy has done something rare. Something bold. Something worthy of the moment we now inhabit. We have taken up the delicate task of examining the Caribbean judicial soul, holding it to the light, tracing its lines, testing its strength. We have travelled across constitutions, across courts, across disciplines, across the lived experiences of our people.
And in doing so, we have witnessed something unmistakable: a region in the midst of an awakening. A judiciary rising into its own authority. A people reclaiming the authorship of their own legal destiny. We began with the oldest of our struggles-the battle for the soul of Caribbean fundamental rights. We confronted the familiar shadow of the savings clause, most recently affirmed in the 2022 Privy Council case of Chandler, reaffirming its status as a relic of a constitutional past built to restrain us, to freeze our freedoms at the moment of independence, a profound irony, that the very instrument of our liberation would be used to lock our rights in a colonial vault.
But the CCJ has offered a different vision. A Caribbean vision. A sovereign vision…In Nervais, McEwan, Bisram, the Court declared, with clarity and courage, that our Constitution is not a museum piece but a living instrument, that our rights do not belong to yesterday, stuck in the time warp of the idea of the remaining supremacy of the colonial parliament, but to a sovereign Caribbean tomorrow giving faithful adherence to the higher logic of constitutional supremacy.
From rights, we turned to reform, to the daily, difficult work of making justice real. Through the Needham’s Point principles, another CCJ Academy legacy, through the example of St Kitts and Nevis, we saw that sovereignty is not only won in the courtroom, but in the police station, the remand centre, the probation office, and that through structured leadership and scientific methodology, a Caribbean nation can effectively implement the Needham’s Point vision, setting new regional standards for justice and crime reduction.”
We then travelled through our plural legal traditions-common law, civil law, mixed systems-and witnessed how the CCJ has woven these strands into a tapestry that is recognisably and proudly Caribbean. We explored family law and probate, the quiet chambers where the law meets the tenderness and tragedy of everyday life. We explored Community Law, where the CCJ safeguards the legal heartbeat of the CSME. By the end of these two days, one truth stood tall: We have fought, and we have begun to win, the battle for the soul of our constitutional identity.
This is the legacy we have built. A jurisprudence that is principled, progressive, and unmistakably our own. We have proven our capability to ourselves and to the world. Yet, for this legacy to be truly complete, it requires the full embrace of our region. The final, definitive step is for all CARICOM member states to accept the CCJ’s appellate jurisdiction, fully closing the circle of judicial self-determination.
And they can do so with absolute confidence, because the Court’s institutional strength is its hallmark. Anchored by the independent Trust Fund and the Regional Judicial and Legal Services Commission, the CCJ is insulated from political and financial interference. Its composition, reflecting the rich tapestry of our region’s gender, ethnic, religious, and legal traditions, sets a powerful standard for inclusive governance. This foundation of diversity, independence, and a sustained commitment to the highest standards of excellence has forged a judiciary that is not only truly representative of the people it serves but is also internationally acclaimed for its integrity and jurisprudence.
But now comes the harder question, which will dominate the discussions today and which raises the question that must shape the next chapter of the legacy of the CCJ. What good is a world-class Caribbean jurisprudence if the digital foundations on which it must stand are built elsewhere? How do we defend constitutional sovereignty while surrendering digital sovereignty? Why should this same battle between a dependent past and a self-determining future have to be waged in the arena: technology.
How can we claim mastery over our rights, yet outsource the very platforms that give those rights life? This is the new frontier. The next battle for the Caribbean judicial soul. Not fought in the courtroom, but in the code. Not over the text of our Constitution, but over the architecture of our justice systems. And so, standing on the shoulders of all we have examined over these two days, I invite you now to step with me into that next chapter- to confront the urgent question of how we complete our sovereignty, from the courtroom all the way to the server room.
A personal reflection – a lifetime in Caribbean judicial technology
But there is a parallel story to our judicial sovereignty- one I have lived from the front lines. It is the story of our struggle for digital sovereignty. Allow me, to share a dimension of our regional story that connects directly to the legacy of the CCJ and to the conversations that will follow today.
When I became Chief Justice of the Eastern Caribbean Supreme Court in 1996, the world of judicial technology in the Caribbean barely existed. My objectives included systemic developments in judicial education and technology. The tools were not sophisticated, resources were scarce, and expertise was still emerging.
With a regional committee and the support of the US National Center for State Courts, we adopted the JEMS software system. Every judicature in the region bought into it. At its height, our small Caribbean region-just seven million people-paid close to US$2 million in license fees.
That experience taught me two lessons: first, that we were already spending heavily in this space, often more per capita than large countries would spend on a similar product. Second, that the scarce resource of our taxpayers money was feeding an economic model that strengthened foreign institutions while leaving ours dependent and underdeveloped.
But my transformative moment came when I served at the United Nations International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda. We needed a new case management system. The head of IT introduced a young Nigerian programmer and asked me to describe the functions of JEMS to him. Three months later, he returned with a fully functioning system that performed everything I had described. That experience changed me. I realised that this was not magic, nor the preserve of expertise in which we did not share. The expertise needed was not abroad. It was here, in our region, untapped. It affirmed that the required technological capacity and intellect was never beyond our reach. What was missing was belief, investment, and opportunity.
So, when I joined the CCJ in 2011, I brought that conviction. We established a regional committee with the finest minds and set out to build our own indigenous digital ecosystem. With no substantial capital-and with the scepticism that often greets Caribbean innovation-we built a paperless apex court with e-filing, case management, and virtual hearings. Before the Privy Council. Before many larger and better-funded jurisdictions.
That achievement became the foundation of what you now know as the Caribbean Agency for Justice Solutions (CAJS). CAJS is now more than a decade old, though often under-recognised. Yet its accomplishments speak volumes. Across Barbados, The Bahamas, Belize, Turks and Caicos, Cayman, and beyond, CAJS has delivered fit-for-purpose justice solutions:
- From case management and e-filing to court recording and legal research tools.
- From policy and governance support to facilities modernisation support though a Caribbean network of architects, urban planners and engineers
- From cybersecurity frameworks, to disaster mitigation and institutional resilience support programs.
- From support for national judicial training institutes to the establishment of the CAJS academy to develop programs tailored to supporting digital transformation and change management in the Caribbean.
- From access to justice tools and programs to a dedicated Health and Wellness Unit to support programs advocating for mental health and work-life balance for Justice stakeholders.
- From technical capacity augmentation for resource-constrained jurisdictions to user-centred service design.
- From law enforcement capacity building to mentorship and internships for young legal professionals
- From automation of attorney general offices and legislative drafting automation to regional knowledge sharing network; and artificial intelligence tools for legal research, process optimisation and performance management, after forming an AI research unit in 2019, before AI was even vogue.
Like the CCJ, CAJS has evolved to meet the regional need. It is now a full-formed, multi-faceted world-class development agency. This was always the intention. It was never about simply providing justice technology – it’s mandate is to deliver justice solutions – holistic, whole sector solutions.
And it has done exactly that. It is building an ecosystem- a coherent, Caribbean-centred approach to justice reform. To compare it to software vendors and technology providers would be a most odious comparison. Foreign vendors sell products. CAJS builds capability. This distinction is vital. It is the difference between a transaction and true transformation.
The frustration – a pattern of bypassing ourselves
And this is where my reflection turns from pride to profound frustration. Here lies the modern parallel. Just as the Privy Council’s savings clause jurisprudence trapped our rights in the past, a new form of “technological savings clause” is being imposed on us today.
International funding agencies, like the UNDP, actively seduce our governments with millions for foreign technology to support out judiciaries. The recent funding of a Rwandan system for Jamaica is a painful example. This is not an isolated case. It reflects a persistent pattern. This is the 21st-century equivalent of the savings clause. It says “your own solutions are not good enough. You must depend on external systems.” It is a mindset that stifles innovation, exports our capital, and undermines our digital sovereignty.
CAJS, like the CCJ, has proven its capability. It builds an entire ecosystem for justice, not just software. Yet, it is consistently bypassed, and starved of the investment needed to flourish. I speak now frankly, if passionately but with deep affection for our region. international donor agencies eloquently speak the language of sustainable development, yet their actions in funding judicial technology tell a different story. They persistently finance foreign solutions, directly contradicting their own philosophy by starving regional institutions and stifling local innovation.
When we consider that Caribbean taxpayers have effectively exported between US $3 to $5 million annually to build the technological capacity of other nations, the scale of the lost opportunity becomes clear. Imagine if that capital had been invested here, the jobs created, the skills developed, the regional institution strengthened-that is the true cost of this dependency, and the very definition of unsustainable development.
Furthermore, this reliance on foreign solutions is not just a strategic misstep; it is an operational failure. These imported systems, not custom-built for our unique legal tapestry, consistently prove unsatisfactory. Across the region, one hears the same complaints of poor fit and cumbersome adaptation. In contrast, our indigenous solutions, born from within and designed for our specific context, are inherently more responsive and are already demonstrating their capacity to deliver superior results for Caribbean justice.
Despite CAJS’s proven excellence, Caribbean governments and justice institutions are still routinely seduced away from our own solutions by international funding agencies offering millions of dollars for foreign technologies. It is not only misaligned with our legal traditions. It is not only unsustainable. It is fundamentally inconsistent with the Revised Treaty of Chaguaramas (RTC), which obliges us to develop and strengthen regional technological capacity. For every dollar we spend on foreign justice technology, we export Caribbean capital, weaken our digital sovereignty, and deprive our young technologists of opportunity.
We cannot speak of sovereignty, sustainability or strategic development while simultaneously undermining the credibility and capacity of our own institutions.
Completing the Arc of Sovereignty – from judicial to digital
The CCJ’s journey is the template for what we must now do in technology. The connection is undeniable. The psychological barrier that once made us doubt our capacity for final appellate jurisdiction is the same barrier that makes us doubt our capacity for technological innovation. The CCJ’s constitutional jurisprudence and CAJS’s technological solutions are born from the same spirit of self-reliance. To embrace one while ignoring the other is a profound contradiction.
The RTC obliges us to develop our own technological capacity. To do otherwise is a breach of our regional commitments. We cannot claim sovereignty in our courtrooms while surrendering it in our server rooms. Two decades ago, many doubted whether a Caribbean court could serve as a final appellate court. Today, the CCJ stands as a regional treasure and an internationally recognised beacon of excellence. Today, a decade into its own existence, CAJS stands at a similar juncture.
It has proven its capability. It has demonstrated sustainability. It has pioneered innovation that others now emulate. It has growing international regard, evidenced by recent partnerships with the Commonwealth Secretariat and Commonwealth Telecommunications Organisation. Yet, it has not yet received the full, unequivocal regional recognition and commitment it needs. The same psychological barriers that sustain a lingering attachment to the Privy Council also drive our courts to rely on foreign technology. This is, quite simply, the unfinished business of sovereignty. In the 21st century, to outsource our digital infrastructure is to outsource a core element of our national and regional identity.
A call to leadership – what the region must now do
Our next 20 years must be defined by decisive leadership. I offer three priorities:
- Recognise CAJS as a regional public good.
It should be the primary vehicle for justice modernisation in the Caribbean.
- Invest in CAJS predictably and sustainably.
Not through episodic projects, but through multi-year commitments.
- Adopt a “Caribbean First” procurement principle for justice technology.
Governments and development partners must consult CAJS at the outset-not after the foreign vendor is chosen. This is not protectionism. It is responsible governance. It is economic development. It is the fulfilment of the Treaty. And it is the logical extension of the CCJ’s mission.
A vision and caution
The CCJ at 20 is a story of triumph: of judicial confidence, regional solidarity, and intellectual excellence. But that legacy will be incomplete until the entire region accepts the final appellate jurisdiction of the CCJ and we seize our technological destiny. We cannot build a Caribbean jurisprudence on foreign foundations.
We cannot strengthen public trust on systems designed for other contexts. We cannot speak of sovereignty while outsourcing the engines of justice. The question is no longer whether Caribbean solutions can deliver. We have delivered. The question is whether we, as Caribbean leaders, jurists, and stewards of our region’s future, will have the courage and foresight to back what we ourselves have created. Just as we claimed our judicial destiny through the CCJ, we must now secure our digital justice destiny through CAJS.
Our legacy, and our region’s future, depend on it.
