Corporations Win Big as Georgia's Tort Reform Crushes Victim Rights

On a spring day in Atlanta, Governor Brian Kemp stood alongside state leaders, signing a sweeping tort reform package into law. The ceremony, marked by triumphant speeches, heralded a new era for Georgia’s civil justice system. For advocates of the legislation, the changes promise to rein in runaway litigation, stabilize soaring insurance premiums, and bolster the state’s economic competitiveness. Yet, beneath the polished rhetoric lies a troubling reality: these reforms risk tilting the scales of justice against everyday Georgians, particularly those most vulnerable to harm.

The package, encompassing Senate Bills 68 and 69, introduces a litany of changes, from restricting how juries calculate damages to shielding businesses from liability for negligent security. Supporters claim the laws will protect small businesses and consumers from the hidden costs of frivolous lawsuits. But for those who rely on the courts to hold powerful entities accountable, the reforms represent a dangerous erosion of their rights. The question is not whether Georgia’s legal landscape has changed, but whether it has changed for the better—or at the expense of fairness.

For decades, the civil justice system has served as a bulwark for individuals seeking redress against negligence, abuse, or corporate malfeasance. From victims of workplace injuries to survivors of violent crimes, the courts have offered a path to accountability. Yet, the narrative pushed by the state’s leadership paints a different picture: one of a system plagued by opportunistic plaintiffs and inflated jury awards. This framing, while compelling to some, glosses over the real-world impacts of restricting access to justice, particularly for those already marginalized by systemic inequities.

As Georgia charts this new course, the stakes could not be higher. The reforms, enacted on April 21, 2025, aim to create a more predictable legal environment for businesses. But at what cost? For the single mother injured in a poorly secured parking lot or the family grappling with medical bills after a car accident, these changes could mean the difference between fair compensation and financial ruin. The fight for justice in Georgia has just gotten harder, and the consequences will ripple far beyond the courtroom.

At the heart of the tort reform package lies a series of provisions that fundamentally alter how Georgians seek redress. Take the changes to premises liability, which now require plaintiffs to prove that property owners knew of specific threats and failed to act. On its face, this seems reasonable—businesses shouldn’t be punished for unforeseen crimes. But in practice, it places an almost insurmountable burden on victims, particularly those harmed in under-resourced communities where businesses often cut corners on security to save costs.

Consider the case of a woman assaulted in a dimly lit store parking lot. Under the new rules, she must not only demonstrate that the business failed to provide adequate lighting or security but also that it was explicitly aware of prior incidents and did nothing. This standard protects businesses, no doubt, but it leaves victims like her with fewer avenues for justice. Data from 2022 shows that Georgia’s tort costs, while high at $5,050 per household, disproportionately affect small businesses. Yet, shielding corporations at the expense of individuals risks perpetuating a cycle of negligence, where cost-cutting trumps accountability.

Another provision, the so-called 'truth-in-damages' rule, limits medical damage awards to the amount actually paid, not the billed 'sticker price.' Proponents argue this prevents inflated awards and reduces insurance premiums, which spiked 21% for auto coverage in 2024. But this ignores a critical reality: the actual amount paid often reflects insurance company negotiations, not the true cost of care borne by the plaintiff. For uninsured or underinsured Georgians, this rule could mean recovering far less than what they owe, leaving them drowning in debt while insurers and providers walk away unscathed.

The prohibition on 'anchoring'—where attorneys suggest arbitrary figures for pain and suffering—further tips the scales. While the law doesn’t cap damages, it restricts how plaintiffs’ attorneys can frame their suffering to juries. Supporters claim this ensures awards are based on evidence, not theatrics. Yet, pain and suffering are inherently subjective, and stripping attorneys of the ability to contextualize a plaintiff’s trauma risks undervaluing non-economic losses, particularly for survivors of abuse or catastrophic injuries.

The push for tort reform in Georgia didn’t emerge in a vacuum. For years, business groups and insurers have decried the state’s legal climate, pointing to its $20 billion in annual tort costs and a reputation as a 'judicial hellhole.' These concerns aren’t baseless—high litigation costs can deter investment and burden small businesses. But the solution crafted by Kemp and his allies leans too heavily on curbing plaintiff rights rather than addressing systemic issues like insurance market dynamics or claim denial practices.

Historical precedent offers a cautionary tale. In the 1970s, California’s Medical Injury Compensation Reform Act capped non-economic damages to curb malpractice premiums. While premiums stabilized for some providers, healthcare costs continued to rise, driven by factors beyond litigation. Similarly, Georgia’s reforms may not deliver the promised relief. Consumer advocacy groups note that insurance premiums are influenced by market cycles and underwriting practices, not just tort costs. The 21% auto insurance hike in 2024, for instance, stemmed partly from inflation and supply chain issues, not solely jury awards.

Opponents of the reforms argue that they prioritize corporate interests over individual accountability. The regulation of third-party litigation funding, for example, bans foreign entities and imposes transparency requirements. While framed as consumer protection, these rules could limit plaintiffs’ ability to finance costly lawsuits against deep-pocketed defendants. In a state where wealth disparities already skew access to justice, such restrictions threaten to widen the gap between the powerful and the powerless.

Georgia’s tort reform package is not without its defenders. State leaders like Lieutenant Governor Burt Jones and House Speaker Jon Burns argue that the laws strike a balance, protecting businesses while preserving plaintiffs’ rights. They point to provisions like bifurcated trials, which separate liability and damages, as evidence of fairness. Yet, these procedural tweaks do little to address the broader erosion of plaintiff protections, particularly for those least equipped to navigate a more restrictive legal system.

The path forward demands a recommitment to justice that centers the needs of everyday Georgians. Rather than stacking the deck against plaintiffs, policymakers should focus on strengthening legal aid, simplifying court procedures, and ensuring that victims of negligence—whether from corporate greed or systemic neglect—have a fighting chance. The civil rights movement of the 20th century taught us that access to justice is a cornerstone of equality. Georgia’s reforms, however well-intentioned, risk undermining that legacy.

As the state moves into this new era, the real test will be how these laws play out in courtrooms and communities. Will they deliver the economic stability promised by their architects, or will they leave vulnerable Georgians struggling to hold wrongdoers accountable? The answer lies not in the rhetoric of reform but in the lived experiences of those seeking justice. For now, the scales have tipped, and it’s up to advocates, attorneys, and citizens to push for a system that truly serves all.