The heart of yesterday’s legal battle before the Maryland Supreme Court centered on a fundamental principle: the 2017 Child Victims Act that set a 20-year time limit for survivors of child sexual abuse to file lawsuits did not, and could not, bind a future
legislature from changing the law to make it right. And that’s exactly what the General Assembly did in 2023 when it passed the Child Victims Act (CVA), eliminating time limits altogether and giving survivors the chance to finally seek justice, no matter how many years have passed.
In other words, in 2017, the Maryland General Assembly passed a bill that limited lawsuits by child survivors to the age of 38. After that time, the General Assembly learned more information about delayed traumatic memories, repressed memories, and scientific evidence showing the reason that survivors do not come forward earlier in their lives. Those facts, combined with the blockbuster report of the Maryland Attorney General documenting 80 years of abuse to hundreds of survivors, creating an overwhelming and compelling need to change the law – a law that eliminated the statute of limitations all together, providing a safe haven for survivors, not predators.
“One legislature cannot effectively handcuff a future one,” said Robert Peck to the Maryland Supreme Court, who represents certain survivors suing the Washington diocese.
Cate Stetson, counsel for Valerie Bunker, John Doe and on behalf of all survivors seeking to enforce the CVA said after the hearing, “There is nothing in this record that suggests a unanimous legislature wanted to protect those who facilitated child sexual abuse from future liability.” She rejected the idea that the CVA was meant to shield institutions from future lawsuits.
The institutions challenging the CVA are relying on the argument that the 2017 law created a statute of repose, which they claim gives them a vested right to immunity. Essentially, they want the court to believe that after a certain period, they’re entitled to “complete peace,” as defense counsel explained to the court.
What’s really at stake here is whether powerful institutions that facilitated or covered up abuse should get a pass simply because time has passed. Justice Angela M. Eaves hit the nail on the head when she asked the defense, “Is there any good reason to consider the 2017 law a statute of repose?” In other words, does it make sense to protect institutions from being
held accountable for enabling child sexual abuse?
For the plaintiffs’ legal team, the answer is clear. The General Assembly had the power—and the duty—to change the law in 2023 after being confronted with new information, like the damning 2023 report from the Maryland Attorney General, which revealed eight decades of clergy abuse across the state. “There is no state interest in encouraging
child sexual abuse,” the lawyers argued to the Court.
And that’s exactly what the CVA is about: making things right for survivors who were failed by the system. The law recognizes that many survivors don’t come forward until decades after the abuse occurred, due to the trauma they endured. By removing the time limits, the CVA gives them a long-overdue chance to seek accountability from their abusers and the institutions that protected those abusers.
The argument for upholding the CVA boils down to one undeniable fact: no past law can stop future legislatures from doing what’s right. Maryland’s General Assembly acted in 2023 with full authority, and it did so with the clear intent of offering justice to survivors.
We are confident that the Maryland Supreme Court will recognize the importance of this principle and hold that the CVA is constitutional. Survivors of childhood sexual abuse deserve their day in court, and institutions that enabled these heinous acts must be held accountable. The ruling is expected by August 2025, and for many, it will mark a critical turning point in the fight for justice.