
The Ontario Superior Court’s recent decision to let a major copyright lawsuit against OpenAI proceed in the province is more than a procedural ruling it’s a statement about sovereignty, fairness, and the future of creative work in Canada.
OpenAI had argued that the case didn’t belong in Ontario because the company has no physical presence there, and because its model-training activities happened outside the province. But this argument misses a basic truth about the digital age: borders may feel blurry online, but the impact on creators is very real and very local.
Justice Jessica Kimmel recognized this. Her ruling clear and pragmatic states that Canadian authors and publishers should be able to seek recourse in their own courts when their work is allegedly used without consent. And she’s right. If Canadian journalism is fueling a multibillion-dollar American AI ecosystem, then Canada has every right to ask whether that use is lawful under Canadian copyright law.
OpenAI’s argument that U.S. courts are already dealing with similar issues is interesting, but ultimately irrelevant. Different countries have different laws, and Canada isn’t obligated to wait and see what a U.S. judge thinks before defending its own creators. In fact, if anything, the global uncertainty around AI and copyright makes it even more important for Canada to test and define its own boundaries now.
This case brought by a coalition that includes The Canadian Press, Torstar, The Globe and Mail, Postmedia, and CBC/Radio-Canada is more than a corporate dispute. It speaks to an existential fear across creative industries: that the work of journalists, musicians, authors, and filmmakers is being scraped, absorbed, and monetized by AI systems with zero transparency and even less compensation.
It’s no surprise that the House of Commons heritage committee has been hearing growing anxiety from unions and creators. They’re not asking for much mainly transparency, and a licensing system that respects the value of their work. But without legal accountability, those demands risk being ignored.
AI companies often claim they are simply “learning” from publicly available material, but that logic collapses when the “learning” involves billions of dollars and the original creators are left out of the equation entirely. Journalists don’t get to copy entire books for their work. Musicians can’t sample albums wholesale and call it fair use. Yet AI firms have been doing the equivalent, at unprecedented scale.
The Ontario court’s decision doesn’t determine whether OpenAI is guilty of infringement that fight is still ahead. But it does send a message: Canada’s creative economy won’t be sidelined in the AI era.
And frankly, that’s a message worth sending.

