The increase in online interaction created by COVID-19 has generated a spike in girls and young women being subjected to what鈥檚 called technology-facilitated sexual violence (TFSV). The term refers to everything from sharing someone鈥檚 nude photos without their consent to sending unsolicited pictures of one鈥檚 own genitals.
TFSV, a range of harmful and sexually aggressive online behaviours, affects 88 per cent of all Canadian university undergraduate women. Younger teens are also affected by these behaviours.
Survivors have few legal options, and have recently been found to be at higher risk of suicide. This highlights the need for more education and legal reform around these acts, which some legal experts say should be criminal.
Early exposures
鈥淣o matter how much you think you鈥檙e protecting your child, they can still get to them,鈥� says Heather Mackie of Vancouver, B.C., whose name has been changed to protect the identity of her daughter.
Two years ago, Mackie鈥檚 then 12-year-old daughter, Emma (not her real name), created an Instagram account for her fictional character on Roblox, a popular online gaming platform whose users are mostly under 16 years old. What Emma next received in her inbox shocked her, and her mother.
鈥淚t was a picture of a man鈥檚 genitals,鈥� says Mackie. Emma was visibly upset. 鈥淪he deleted it and blocked him. We then deleted the account.鈥�
Experiences like Emma鈥檚 are common. A recent Canadian survey of university-aged women found 6.4 per cent had their first experience with online sexual harassment between 12 and 14 years of age.
Experts differ slightly in how they classify forms of TFSV, with one classification including image-based sexual abuse (non-consensual sharing of victims鈥� images), video voyeurism and unsolicited sexual images, which is what Emma received.
Another definition adds online sexual aggression and coercion, including extortion, blackmail and bribery, as well as online harassment of people based on their gender or sexuality.
Terminology is important. According to Rosel Kim, staff lawyer at the Women鈥檚 Legal Education and Action Fund in Toronto, terms such as 鈥渃yberviolence鈥� downplay the severity of the act. 鈥淐yberviolence is not separate from violence,鈥� she says.
Another term, 鈥渞evenge porn,鈥� blames its victims, and is better described as a form of image-based sexual abuse.
Which brings us back to Emma, who a year later had a second incident. She was on the now-defunct social networking app Houseparty and witnessed a friend being harassed online.
鈥淭he language they used was shocking,鈥� says Mackie, whose daughter took screenshots of the chat and reported the incident to the police liaison officer at her school. The bully had sent an image depicting anal penetration of a popular children鈥檚 cartoon character, and the rest was 鈥渕ostly words telling her to go kill herself.鈥�
Words that, as it turns out, can lead to real harm.
Online violence and suicide
鈥淪exual violence has been around forever, but the context has shifted (online),鈥� says Amanda Champion, a criminology PhD candidate at Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, B.C.
Champion is the co-author of a 2021 study that clarified the psychological link between TFSV and suicide. According to her findings, TFSV victims鈥� public exposure makes them targets for bullying, which can lead to depression and the feeling that they鈥檙e a burden to friends and family.
This 鈥減erceived burdensomeness鈥� leads victims to 鈥渂elieve that you鈥檙e so much of a burden that your death is worth more than your life,鈥� which opens the door to suicide, Champion says.
In Canada, this process was starkly illustrated in 2012, when 15-year-old Amanda Todd died by suicide after a nude screenshot of her was shared online without her consent. A year later, 17-year-old Rehtaeh Parsons, who was allegedly raped and then bullied over shared photos of the assault, also ended her own life.
In light of these stories, lawyers have been pondering how to hold perpetrators accountable for TFSV while protecting survivors.
Legal options
In Canada, not a lot of people realize they can report TFSV to the police, says Suzie Dunn, a law and technology professor at Dalhousie University in Halifax. 鈥淚t鈥檚 downplayed by society and even by police. People are still conceptualizing whether or not these are true harms,鈥� she says.
When it comes to legal options, Kim and Dunn say the key is understanding what TFSV victims鈥� goals are. 鈥淢aybe they want images to be taken down, or an apology 鈥� not necessarily to put a person in jail,鈥� says Kim.
Under the Canadian Criminal Code, an offender may be charged with voyeurism, obscene publication, criminal harassment, extortion or defamatory libel. However, if the only goal is to have harmful content taken down, then pursuing a criminal charge may be more trouble than it鈥檚 worth, Kim says.
The first barrier is convincing the police that there鈥檚 enough evidence to charge an offender. Then once in court, 鈥測ou have to prove beyond a reasonable doubt鈥� 鈥� a high burden of proof, says Kim. During trial, the accused鈥檚 lawyer may also expose a survivor to further trauma.
Lastly, the criminal justice system moves slowly 鈥� and without a conviction, harmful content stays up, says Dunn.
The need for legal reform
Dunn says Canada lags behind other nations such as Australia when it comes to education, research and legislation around TFSV.
Since 2015, Australia has had an eSafety Commissioner, 鈥渢he world鈥檚 first government agency committed to keeping its citizens safer online.鈥� Kim and Dunn say Canada should have a similar government-funded statutory body that advocates in this area.
Starting points for advocacy may include implementing more expedient image take-down laws and regulating social media companies such as Facebook, agree Dunn and Kim.
鈥淭hese platforms make money through engagement. What鈥檚 engaging content is often extreme content that tends to be abusive or violent,鈥� says Kim.
In last fall鈥檚 federal election, the Liberals promised to rework online harms legislation within 100 days of Parliament鈥檚 Nov. 22 return 鈥� that timer is set to expire on March 2.
Anthony Fong, Global Journalism Fellow, Dalla Lana School of Public Health, University of Toronto. This article was originally published on The Conversation, an independent and nonprofit source of news, analysis and commentary from academic experts. Disclosure information is available on the original site.
