New Civil Code of Ukraine: What Risks Lawyers See for Human Rights, Media, Property and Private Life
The new Civil Code of Ukraine, adopted in the first reading on April 28, is presented as a large-scale update of private law. According to the idea, it should replace the current 2003 code, adapt civil legislation to modern social, economic and digital realities, and bring it closer to European approaches. But the current version of draft law No. 15150 has drawn sharp criticism not because of the idea of renewal itself, but because of the quality of the procedure, the vagueness of certain norms and the possible consequences for citizens’ basic rights. From a legal point of view, the main problem with this document is that it simultaneously affects almost all key areas of private life family, property, contracts, protection of honor and reputation, media, digital information, inheritance, guardianship, reproductive rights, anti-discrimination guarantees and the legal status of property. Such a code cannot be treated as a technical update. This is a document that will define the rules of civil life for years to come.
The first risk is the adoption procedure. Formally, work on updating civil legislation lasted for many years, but public criticism concerns the specific version that parliament supported in the first reading. A document hundreds of pages long was registered and put to a vote within tight deadlines. For an act of this level, this is dangerous, because high-quality legal expertise requires time: it is necessary to assess not only each article separately, but also how they will work together. In civil law, one unclear norm can change practice for years. If it concerns contracts, entrepreneurs will feel it. If it concerns family relations, families will. If it affects the media, journalists and society will. If it changes property rules, the state, communities, businesses and citizens will. That is why haste in such a document creates not a procedural detail, but a risk of poor-quality law enforcement.
The second risk is the concept of “good custom.” It has become one of the most dangerous evaluative terms in the draft. In the text, it is linked to moral norms, ethical standards and generally accepted ideas. At first glance, this may look like an attempt to make law more flexible. But civil law needs predictability. If a contract, family dispute, reputation case or exercise of a civil right is assessed through “good custom,” the key question arises: who exactly will determine what is good-customary and what is not. Different courts, communities, regions and even different judges may have different ideas about morality, family, behavior, publicity, privacy or acceptable criticism. This creates a danger of legal uncertainty. A formally lawful contract may be called into question not because of a violation of the law, but because someone considers it inconsistent with a moral and ethical criterion. For business, this is a risk of contract instability. For citizens, it is a risk of dependence on the subjective assessment of the court. For vulnerable groups, it is a risk of discriminatory application of the norm.
The third risk is the excessive expansion of judicial discretion. The draft provides that the court will be able to choose not only methods of rights protection directly provided by law, but also others that it considers effective in a specific situation. In theory, this can help when the law does not provide a ready-made tool. But together with vague criteria such as “good custom,” such a model may lead to inconsistent practice. The legal system should work in such a way that a person can roughly predict the consequences of their actions. If the decision depends on broad moral interpretation, the result becomes less predictable. In civil law, this is especially dangerous, because it concerns property, contracts, reputation, family and the right to protection.
The fourth risk is family law. The greatest concern is caused by the possibility of delaying divorce through a “reconciliation” mechanism. If the court receives a tool to effectively postpone the dissolution of marriage, this creates danger for people who are in toxic or dangerous relationships. The situation with domestic violence is especially problematic. If the exception to “reconciliation” applies only when criminal liability has been proven, this means that a person must go through a long and difficult path: reports, investigation, court, verdict. In real life, victims do not always have the strength, resources or safe conditions for this. Therefore, the requirement to wait for “proven” violence may turn protection into a formality. Divorce is a personal decision of adults. The state may provide the procedure, protect children, property and the weaker party, but it should not create conditions in which a person is forced to remain in a marriage against their will.
The fifth risk is reproductive rights. The draft changes the wording on abortions. If previously it directly stated that abortion is possible at the woman’s request up to twelve weeks, the new version shifts the focus toward procedural wording, including informed consent. At the technical level, this may look like an insignificant change. But in law, wording matters. Directly enshrining a right and mentioning a procedure are different levels of guarantees. If the right is formulated less clearly, it is easier to narrow it through by-laws, medical practice or judicial interpretation.
The sixth risk is the definition of family and the absence of civil partnerships. The draft effectively leaves marriage in the traditional model of a union between a man and a woman and does not create an alternative mechanism for the legal recognition of partnerships. This is an especially sensitive issue for a country that is in the process of European integration. The problem is not only symbolic. The absence of civil partnerships affects inheritance, access to medical information, property rights, social guarantees, protection of family life and the position of military personnel. If the state does not provide a legal tool for such couples, it effectively leaves part of its citizens without full legal protection. A provision that may allow a marriage to be declared invalid in the event of a change of sex by one of the partners at the request of an interested person also looks dangerous. Such a construction opens the way for third parties to interfere in a couple’s private life.
The seventh risk is guardianship and custody. The draft limits the circle of guardians only to citizens of Ukraine, expands the grounds for refusal without sufficient individual assessment, and provides for the obligation of a guardian to perform functions for another thirty days after dismissal. In peacetime, such restrictions would already require caution. In wartime, they may create additional barriers. Some people have lost documents, are abroad, have complicated family circumstances or cannot quickly confirm a certain status. In the field of guardianship, what is needed is not a mechanical ban, but an assessment of the specific situation and the best interests of the person who needs protection.
The eighth risk is freedom of speech and the work of the media. The most serious issue here is the new “right of reply.” Under the current logic, it is linked to false information. That is, a person must prove that the information is false and violates their rights. In the new model, the right of reply may arise regardless of proving falsity. This creates a major risk for journalists. A public figure, official or business may demand publication of their response even when the material is accurate and has public significance. Combined with demands for compensation of expenses, this may become a tool of pressure on editorial offices.
The ninth risk is the “right to be forgotten.” It may allow demands to remove information because of its “irrelevance” or “loss of public interest.” These categories themselves do not have clear boundaries. For a private person who is not a public figure, this may be a protection mechanism. But for officials, politicians, subjects of investigations or large companies, such a norm may become a way to remove inconvenient information from public access. The danger is that information may remain socially important even years later. Corruption stories, business ties, court disputes, property data or reputational facts do not always lose significance over time. If this is not clearly written, courts may receive a tool for excessive restriction of access to information.
The tenth risk is the “right to informational peace.” In labor and contractual relations, this idea may be useful: a person has the right not to answer work calls, messages or letters outside working hours. But if the wording allows this right to be interpreted more broadly, public figures may use it as an argument against journalistic materials or information requests. Therefore, the norm must be separated: protecting an employee’s private time is one thing, restricting socially important information about an official or company is something completely different.
The eleventh risk is the digital image of a legal entity. If companies receive the right to demand the removal of information about themselves online merely because they consider it harmful, this may hit open registers, analytical systems and the ability to check counterparties. Transparency matters for the business environment. Companies check each other before concluding deals, citizens check developers, journalists analyze business ties with authorities. If the mechanism for protecting a “digital image” is too broad, it may become not a protection of reputation, but a way to hide information.
The twelfth risk is land, forests, natural resources and cultural heritage. One of the most serious blocks concerns registers and property rights. If an entry in the state register becomes an almost unchallengeable argument, the state or a community may lose the ability to return illegally alienated property. The situation with objects that are not entered into registers or are entered with errors is especially dangerous: forests, rivers, protected areas, coastlines, archaeological monuments, cultural heritage. If legal protection depends on the accuracy of the register, and the registers are not complete, there is a risk of the actual legalization of dubious schemes. This may have long-term consequences. Property that was illegally transferred may become almost impossible to return. And in some cases, the state may also face the need to compensate new owners for interference with their rights. Such a model is dangerous for natural resources and cultural heritage, because an accounting error may turn into the loss of property.
The thirteenth risk is anti-discrimination norms. The draft changes the logic of defining discrimination. Instead of clear and established criteria, a broader but less defined list of characteristics may appear. In law, this is not always an advantage. Anti-discrimination protection must be clear. A person must understand on which grounds the law protects them, and the court must have understandable assessment criteria. If the wording becomes too vague, this may make it harder to protect victims and lead to different court practices. For Ukraine, this is also a question of European standards. The European model of human rights protection relies on predictability, equality and the prohibition of discrimination on clearly defined grounds, including sexual orientation and gender identity. If the new code weakens these guarantees or bypasses them, this may create problems for the European integration course.
The fourteenth risk is compliance with European standards. Ukraine must move not only toward formal legislative renewal, but toward compatibility with the European human rights system. This means protection of private and family life, prohibition of discrimination, equality, predictable law enforcement, access to information and effective guarantees against arbitrary interference. The issue of legal recognition of same-sex couples in accordance with the decisions of the European Court of Human Rights is especially important. If the new Civil Code does not take this requirement into account, it may not bring Ukraine closer to European standards, but leave one of the most sensitive legal problems unresolved.
The fifteenth risk is cosmetic revision instead of real review. After the first reading, the authors declare readiness to take proposals into account. But the very scale of the comments shows that what is needed is not point-by-point edits, but deep revision of problematic blocks. This concerns hundreds of pages of proposals related to human rights, media, family law, property, discrimination and registers. If only the loudest provisions are changed before the second reading, but systemic risks remain, the problem will not disappear. The code may pass politically, but then for years it will create court conflicts, legal uncertainty and new social crises.
The current draft has a strong declared goal – to update civil law. But the quality of a civil code is determined not by intentions, but by how precisely it protects the person, property, freedom of contract, freedom of speech, privacy and equality. In its current version, the document contains too many formulations that may work not as guarantees, but as instruments of pressure. Before the second reading, everything that creates vagueness, discriminatory risks, threats to the media, danger to property and excessive judicial discretion must be removed or clearly rewritten. Otherwise, the new Civil Code may become not a modernization of private law, but a source of long-term legal conflicts.
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