Tutorship to property: Court protects a 78-year-old man

He built a career in politics and in tax advising. He speaks fluently and calmly. And he is prepared to give everything to his partner, “even if he ends up on the street.” The Superior Court had to find the balance between protecting him and respecting his will.

Here is a case that illustrates, better than most treatises, the central difficulty of the law of persons: where does the right to make questionable choices end, and where does the need for protection begin?

In Curateur public du Québec c. M.L., 2026 QCCS 2964, rendered on 12 August 2026 by the Honourable Elif Oral of the Superior Court (district of Québec), the Court had to decide the fate of a 78-year-old man, single and childless, who has lived since May 2025 in an intermediate resource — a supervised residence for semi-autonomous seniors.

The decision is nuanced, and that is precisely what makes it instructive.

What the Public Curator asked for

The Public Curator (Curateur public, Québec’s public guardianship authority) applied to open a tutorship to a person of full age. It sought to be appointed tutor to both the property and the person, and to be given custody of M. L.

It advanced two reasons for setting aside Ms. J., M. L.’s partner, who had been designated as mandatary in a protection mandate and a general power of attorney signed before a notary on 30 September 2025: first, that M. L. had already been incapable of consenting to those acts, his incapacity dating back to 29 April 2025; second, that Ms. J., who has a criminal record for identity theft and fraud, was financially exploiting him.

M. L. was present at the hearing and represented by counsel. He opposed the opening of any protective regime. In the alternative, he asked that his partner be appointed tutor — that was his wish. Ms. J. was absent, though listed as a witness.

Tutorship to a person of full age: what it is, exactly

A word of explanation, because the vocabulary changed recently and many people still use the old terms.

Since Québec’s Bill 18 came into force in 2022, curatorship and advisership to a person of full age have been abolished. Only one judicial protective regime remains: tutorship, which the court tailors to the person’s degree of incapacity. The court may appoint a tutor to the person, a tutor to the property, or both.

The starting point is a presumption: every person is capable of fully exercising their civil rights. To open a tutorship, it must be shown, on a balance of probabilities and by both scientific and lay evidence, that the person of full age is incapable of caring for himself or of administering his property and that he needs to be represented in the exercise of his civil rights. That need for representation is the determinative factor.

Two clarifications from the judgment are worth keeping. First, a diagnosis is not enough: the condition must actually affect the person’s faculties. Second — and this is critical here — prodigality alone does not justify opening a protective regime. Spending your money foolishly is not an illness. Sometimes it is simply a choice.

Finally, every decision must be taken in the interest of the person concerned, with respect for their rights and the safeguard of their autonomy, taking into account their wishes and preferences. The Court has, in its own words, “the delicate task of striking the right balance” between protecting and respecting.

The evidence: a failing memory, a shrinking estate

Dr. Jacques Morin, a geriatrician since 1985, assessed M. L.’s cognitive capacities on 29 April 2025 in a meeting of roughly 90 minutes. M. L. refused to have his family’s collateral history considered, and refused a neuropsychological assessment. The geriatrician nonetheless concluded, on the objective medical data available, that M. L. suffers from a major neurocognitive disorder of mixed origin (vascular and degenerative), at a moderate stage — a chronic condition that will progressively worsen.

The decline has been manifest for 12 to 18 months, affecting memory, verbal fluency and above all executive function, as well as judgment and self-criticism.

The list of documented memory lapses is, in the Court’s own words, “not only long, but above all deeply troubling.” M. L. does not know whether he had a protection mandate or a general power of attorney prepared. He forgets that certain bank accounts exist. He does not know whether his 2022 and 2023 tax returns were filed. He forgets having given a credit card to Ms. J. He forgets having transferred $300,000 to her, and forgets that he transfers $2,000 a week to her from an account that is now empty.

His testimony about his finances is imprecise and contradicted by the record. He estimates his monthly income at “$3,000 or $4,000 a month, maybe more.” He once received a cheque of roughly one million dollars in professional fees, entirely spent, without being able to say how or why. The net proceeds from the sale of his house — $225,000 in 2021 — are almost entirely gone. His chequing account is said to be empty.

The concrete consequences pile up: a collection agency claim for a $41,021.52 credit card debt, a company car seized by a bailiff, a life insurance policy cancelled for non-payment, several months of unpaid rent at his residence resulting in a $7,488 debt. Over the past year, the Public Curator had to advance him roughly $20,000 so he could meet his basic needs.

Confronted with the withdrawals from his account, he answers: “if she stole from me, that would be a first.” He does not review his bank statements. As for his partner’s criminal record, he brushes it aside: all of that happened before she came into his life.

The line the Court draws: beyond prodigality

This is where the judgment is at its sharpest. The Court does not say M. L. is incapable because he is generous. It writes:

“It is one thing to decide to bequeath everything to a given person on one’s death; it is quite another to make substantial gifts to that person during one’s lifetime, so as to jeopardize one’s own financial survival and require the assistance of the State to meet one’s basic needs.”

In other words, what tips the case is not generosity but the inability to connect those gifts to their consequences for his own subsistence — and the inability to resist pressure from those around him. His judgment is impaired; his informed consent is compromised.

Capable as to his person, incapable as to his property

The Public Curator also sought to be appointed custodian, pointing to M. L.’s passivity in meeting his daily needs.

The Court refuses. On this specific point, it says, M. L.’s testimony is “reasoned, consistent with the medical and psychosocial evidence.” He likes his residence and the care he receives there. He acknowledges himself that he can no longer live alone, for safety reasons. He would not consider moving to be closer to his partner. His close network — a sister-in-law, a nephew, a childhood friend — has looked out for him for years.

As to care and his person, his consent is informed and, above all, “impervious to pressure from those around him and grounded in the reality of his situation.” He is not vulnerable in that respect, unlike with his finances.

More still: the Court expressly refuses to restrict his relationships. Setting aside the financial question, it is undisputed that Ms. J.’s presence in M. L.’s life brings him benefits, notably through the bonds he has formed with her young son. The evidence therefore does not support, “at this stage,” any restriction on their contact.

That is a courageous ruling. It would have been easy, and comfortable, to lock everything down.

Why the Public Curator rather than the partner

The Court departs from M. L.’s wishes and appoints the Public Curator as tutor to his property, for four reasons.

First, Ms. J. was absent from the hearing and filed no sworn statement. The Court does not even know whether she would accept the role. That factor alone, it says, is enough to set her aside, given the importance of the position.

Second, she refuses to acknowledge M. L.’s incapacity, maintaining that he can live alone and manage his assets as he sees fit. That refusal “immediately disqualifies” a person called upon to administer a protective regime.

Third, without ruling on the validity of the general power of attorney, the Court finds that the management of M. L.’s affairs has run at a deficit, to the detriment of his interests and in favour of hers. She did not diligently exercise the broad powers conferred on her, contravening her obligations as an administrator of the property of others: to act with prudence, diligence, honesty and loyalty, to avoid conflicts of interest, and not to mix the administered property with her own.

Fourth, the risk of financial abuse is serious. Ms. J. pleaded guilty in 2016 to charges of fraud, identity theft and unauthorized use of credit card data — a record the law obliges the court to consider when choosing a tutor. The social worker confirms that M. L.’s account of things shifts depending on whether his partner is present, and that she speaks in the first-person plural when discussing decisions concerning him alone. And since the Court ordered provisional administration in January 2026, she has stopped visiting him, whereas she visited almost weekly before.

The Court is careful to note that it is not for it to pass judgment on their relationship or to characterize it. Even so, taken together, these facts paint “a troubling picture.”

It quotes on this point a line from author Richard Bourgault worth framing: when you get involved in a tutorship or curatorship, “it is better to be more Catholic than the Pope.”

A tailored tutorship

Rather than imposing a blanket regime, the Court modulates it. M. L. must be represented by his tutor to contract for his ordinary and usual needs, to sign a lease, to perform acts relating to employment or the practice of an art or a profession, and to manage the proceeds of work or an income replacement indemnity.

He is, however, expressly authorized to manage on his own, as he sees fit, a personal spending allowance to be set with his tutor. Pocket money, if you like — but pocket money that is, legally, the measure of the autonomy he retains.

Finally, the Court shortens the reassessment intervals the Public Curator had proposed: a first medical and psychosocial reassessment in two years, then every three years. His condition could deteriorate to the point of requiring a tutor to the person; it could also, the Court notes, improve.

Why this case stands out

Because it refuses the easy answer. Faced with a vulnerable man, a much younger partner with a fraud record and an estate being dissipated, the reflex would be to lock everything down: tutor to the person, tutor to the property, restricted contact. The Court resists that reflex and carefully separates what must be protected from what must remain free.

Because it also recalls an uncomfortable truth: the right to make bad choices is part of dignity. M. L. keeps the right to see whom he wants, to love whom he wants, and to leave what he wants on his death. What he loses is the ability to ruin himself in his lifetime to the point of depending on the State to eat and be housed.

And because a dissenting view remains defensible. One could argue that the Court might have shown more deference to a notarized protection mandate, presumed valid, signed by a man who speaks fluently and made his career in tax advising. The Court’s answer is that fluency is not capacity, and that impaired executive function rarely shows itself in polite conversation. The argument is sound, but it is a reminder of how far these cases turn on the quality of the medical and lay evidence rather than on impressions.

Key takeaways

A protection mandate is no guarantee. Signing before a notary is not enough: you must have the capacity to consent at the time of signing, and a court may refuse to homologate a mandate where the designated mandatary puts their own interests ahead of the mandator’s. Do it early, while capacity is beyond doubt.

A general power of attorney is a powerful instrument. Entrusting someone with the full administration of your property is far more than granting bank access. The holder of a power of attorney is an administrator of the property of others, bound to prudence, diligence, honesty and loyalty — and will one day have to account.

If you are close to a vulnerable person, the warning signs are not mysterious: debts appearing, accounts emptied, repeated forgetting of significant transactions, an account of things that changes depending on who is in the room, withdrawals made in cities the person does not travel to. These are precisely the elements on which this judgment rests.

If you agree to act as tutor or mandatary, understand the burden. Keep impeccable accounts, avoid any mixing of your property with that of the protected person, and never make a decision that benefits you. The law expressly requires a court to consider a proposed tutor’s criminal record, civil judgments and bankruptcy.

“Even If I End Up on the Street”: Court Protects a 78-Year-Old Man’s Estate Without Touching His Love Life