“Power must check power.” With this statement, Montesquieu not only laid the foundations of the modern rule of law but also raised the crucial question of how state power should be limited.

The principle of separation of powers -legislative, executive, and judicial- stems from this reflection. The balance among these branches ensures the proper functioning of the state and the protection of citizens’ rights.

This weekend, Italy will vote on a critical constitutional reform of its judicial system, confronting a contemporary interpretation of this classic principle. The separation of powers means that the state’s core functions -making laws, enforcing laws, and resolving disputes- are carried out by distinct and independent bodies: Parliament, Government, and courts. This model prevents the concentration of power, safeguards democracy, and protects citizens’ freedoms.

However, the reform proposed by Giorgia Meloni’s government goes beyond technical adjustments: it directly intervenes in the judiciary. Should judges and prosecutors belong to the same professional career or be separated from the start? Should the judiciary operate as a unified body or be divided into distinct centres of power?

Currently, the Italian system is based on a simple but strong principle: judges and prosecutors belong to the same professional “family.” They enter through the same examination, undergo similar training, and may move between roles throughout their careers. Supporters argue that this flexibility is precisely what sustains judicial independence.

The reform, however, radically departs from this approach. Young legal professionals will have to choose from the outset: become a judge or a prosecutor. This decision will be binding for their entire career. It is not just a professional reorganisation but a profound cultural shift.

A key feature of the reform is the proposed division of the High Council of the Judiciary. Separate councils will manage judges and prosecutors. At first glance, this may appear to be functional specialisation, but it also redefines the judiciary’s internal balance mechanisms.

The reform also introduces a radical method of selecting council members by lot. In theory, this could weaken internal cliques, but it raises practical questions: if institutional memory and representation are weakened, will decision-making become fairer or more fragile?

The Disciplinary Tribunal, composed of more senior members, faces a similar dilemma: prioritising experience while risking a more centralised approach to discipline.

Supporters of the reform, associated with Carlo Nordio, claim it will make the system more impartial and balanced, with the separation between judges and prosecutors strengthening fairness in criminal proceedings.

Critics, however, warn that the unified structure is the judiciary’s main safeguard of independence. Separating prosecutors could make them increasingly susceptible to the executive, evolving into a more hierarchical, closed, and even “police-like” system.

Finally, many observers note that the reform does not address the judiciary’s core problems: prolonged trials, staff shortages, and insufficient digital infrastructure. How effective can a structural reorganisation be if it does not solve these chronic issues?

This weekend’s vote will determine not only the fate of a reform but also Italy’s vision of justice: do we want a system that is more “efficient” or more “independent”?

Often, these two goals do not coincide.