Handbook on Sexual Violence (85 page)

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. Home Office Research, Development and Statistics Directorate, 276. London: Home Office.

Webster, S., Mann, R., Carter, A., Long, J., Milner, R., O Brien, M.
et al
. (2006) ‘Inter- rater reliability of dynamic risk assessment with sexual offenders’,
Psychology, Crime and Law
, 12(4): 439–52.

West, D. (2000) ‘Paedophilia: plague or panic?’,
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, 11(3): 511–31.

Part Four
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Responding to Sexual Violence

Introduction
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Jennifer Brown and Sandra Walklate

Introduction

The key foci of interventions in sexual violence are perpetrators and their victims. On the one hand sexual offending is somehow considered ‘different’ (Thomas 2005). Society still continues to demonise the offender, the media represent them as monsters and the sex offender is often the subject of bullying and harassment once incarcerated. Thomas further observes that professionals find offenders difficult to work with, and communities find it hard to permit released offenders to reintegrate. On the other hand, as Kelly (2008: 256) notes, sexual violence is distinctive because it ‘violates personal intimate and psychological boundaries’ of its victims. She charts the ‘heady combination of activist protest, passionate polemic and more considered research and commentary [which] led Governments to embark on reforms of statutory and procedural responses to rape and sexual assault’ (p. 253). The four chapters and practitioner commentary that make up this final
section of the Handbook look at various aspects of responding to sexual violence. Helge Hoel and Duncan Lewis look at the work context especially from the perspective of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transsexual (LGBT) employees. Kate Cook lays out the different emphases adopted by public sector and voluntary organisational responders. Hazel Kemshall and Rebecca Campbell’s chapters take a health perspective on sexual violence. Sheila Coates, director of the South Essex Rape and Incest Crisis Centre, presents views of women who are themselves casualties of the fallout of sexual violence, some victims, some mothers of victims.

There are a number of cross-cutting themes that underpin the contributions:

shifting emphasis between victims/survivors and offenders;

sexual violence as a health or a justice issue;

identification and management of risk;

extending the continuum of violence.

The questions posed by these
chapters relate to the nature and purposes of interventions. Are they designed to eliminate sexual violence, support its

victims, punish or treat those guilty of offending? There is both optimism and pessimism expressed about the project of protecting the vulnerable and preventing sexual violence. The authors describe a number of interventions which have enjoyed variable success so the picture is not as bleak as Ward (1995) suggests, i.e. that negative attitudes reinforced by pervasive social forces of self-perpetuating rape myths lead to unavoidable adverse outcomes for the victims of sexual violence.

Shifting emphasis between victims/survivors and offenders

Interventions are designed to prevent, reduce or ameliorate some harm (Brown and Horvath 2009). In the case of sexual violence the focus tends to be on provision of services to mitigate the adverse consequences of the trauma experienced by its victims or predicting and diverting those who perpetrate it. Thus Becki Campbell in Chapter
21 describes the situation in the United States where victim survivors of sexual violence are often taken to emergency departments. Once there, lack of training, delays in treatment and failures to inform patients about sexually transmitted infections or pregnancy lead to further feelings of violation. As well as conducting invasive medical examinations, Campbell reports that medical professionals may also ask invasive personal questions sufficient for survivors to label this a second rape. As a form of secondary victimisation, one of Campbell’s own studies showed that victims of non-stranger rapes not only received lesser levels of medical services but also encountered more secondary victimisation and suffered higher levels of post-traumatic stress compared with those seeking no help at all. In addition demographics played a role in how much information the victim was given about sexually transmitted infections and risks of pregnancy. In Chapter
20 Hazel Kemshall draws attention to Kelly’s proposition that the relationship between the victim and her abuser is immaterial from the point of view of assessing harm. But Campbell’s research shows that it does matter not only who the offender is but also who the victim is and the relationship between them. Where a victim knows her attacker, is young or from an ethnic minority, she is more likely to have her case rejected by law enforcement. Stanko and Williams (2009) found a similar picture emerged from analysis of Metropolitan Police data. Helge Hoel and Duncan Lewis also suggest in Chapter
18 that it is important to be aware of who the victim is and they argue that lesbian, gay, bisexual or transsexual employees are in a special position regarding sexual harassment and bullying at work precisely because of the nature of possible prior victimisations. They discuss the cultural norms and practices of work that can make this an unsafe environment in a way that is analogous to dangerous domestic situations. They propose that what is acted out in the workplace is a spillover from the world outside so that prejudice and discriminating behaviours are enmeshed in group norms and practices at work.

Sheila Coates in Chapter
22 very firmly forces our attention to the harm experienced by the victims of sexual violence. The quotations from participants to a focus group to discuss their experiences of sexual violence are stark and

raw. They make difficult reading and it is distressing to hear the poor professional response which, as a consequence, makes it less likely that the victim will seek the police’s help on another occasion. However, when professionals are engaged and in touch, the support victims receive is greatly appreciated. The under-reporting of rapes weakens the connection between crime, punishment and restitution, both for individuals and society at large (Allen 2007). Thus successful investigative interactions are likely to reinforce victims/survivors’ perceptions of the greater probability of achieving a conviction and so encourage greater likelihood of reporting. Low conviction rates are likely to be an inhibitory reporting factor (Stern 2010). Littleton
et al
. (2008) point out that not reporting may elevate a victim/survivor’s risk of experiencing further victimisation and result in maladaptive coping. Fisher
et al
. (2003) present other consequences of not reporting sexual victimisation:

Victims/survivors may not have access to assistance services;

It precludes gathering of intelligence and possible suspect identification for police;

Estimates of rates of sexual victimisations are likely to be inaccurate.

Kate Cook in Chapter
19 highlights notions of the ‘abnormal’ sex offender and society’s wish to find rapists strange even if they accept they are not necessarily strangers. If offenders are ‘odd’ says Cook, and equally their choices about with whom (children, casual acquaintances) and how (violently) to have sex, then the heterosexual majority do not feel threatened in the way they might if acknowledging that oppressive sex is experienced in the mundane routines of social life. Giner-Sorolla and Russell (2009) proposes that, as well as threats to the integrity of the person, rape presents threats to community cohesion and cultural values. Much of Petrie and McGregor’s chapters (this volume) show how law is slanted towards preserving men’s sexual autonomy at the expense of women’s and that sexual norms operate to maintain the status quo.

Interventions aimed at looking at the interrelationship between perpetrator and victim such as restorative justice options, discussed by Kemshall in Chapter
20, have excited strong reactions. Cossins (2008) worries that restorative justice conferences mean that offences are downgraded in some way by being taken out of the criminal justice system, suggesting offences are taken less seriously and outcomes are too lenient. Campbell’s Chapter
21 reports that low levels of law enforcement effort is associated with higher levels of PTSD in victims/survivors. Felson and Pare´ (2007) show that victim– offender relationship does play a role in satisfaction with perceived quality of the police investigation. They found from their American data that victims were more dissatisfied when the offender is someone they know rather than a stranger. Victims whose partners assault them are especially dissatisfied with police response. Felson and Par´e (p. 216) conclude that their findings indicate not a blanket criticism of police but that dissatisfaction is directed at non- stranger attacks. The issue of perceived leniency towards the alleged aggressor was a factor in the dissatisfaction as a result of both police enquiries and court proceedings, so Coussins may have a point. Daly’s (2008) response is as an

advocate of restorative justice conferencing in some cases. Her analyses found that court victims spent more time waiting for a final disposition (range one to

28 months, median six) than conference victims (range one to 11, median three). Of 226 court cases she analysed, 115 (51 per cent) were proved of a sexual offence (three convicted at trial); eight of a non-sexual offence (three were acquitted at trial); and 100 dismissed or withdrawn. In comparison, of 118 conferences, 111 (94 per cent) were proved. Daly asks the question: if you were a victim, which avenue would you prefer – an early admission to offending or a delayed (or no) admission?

Given that research continues to demonstrate that prosecution and conviction rates for sexual offences are depressingly low and that criminal justice system procedures are distressing and traumatising for victims/ survivors (Clark 2010), understanding what victims/survivors see as justice and consider as fair is essential to developing procedures to meet their needs. Clark analysed the narratives of 22 victims/survivors of sexual assault, and identified information, validation, voice and control as their key needs. Campbell and Kemshall’s chapters particularly show how the criminal justice system continues to fall short of addressing these needs for the victims of sexual violence, and alternative approaches may fare better. Coates’s collation of what women want with respect to the criminal justice’s response lists female police officers, mandatory training to increase their awareness about the impact of rape, specialist services for the hard to reach such as Asian women, and specialist support services.

Sexual violence as a health or a justice issue

Kate Cook reminds us that, for women, rape is not difficult to define in terms of their lived experience, but it is very difficult to prove. For men the difficulty is in defining that what they do is sexually violating as penetration is part of normal sex. Kemshall in Chapter
20 continues the theme of earlier analysis by Petrie whereby sex offenders are demonised and society’s construction prefers the anonymous rapist or invisible stranger paedophile to the more likely intimate or familial abuser. Criminal justice creates the role of victim seeking remedy through law. Both Campbell and Cook show how the law fails either to protect or indeed successfully prosecute sexually violent perpetrators. Campbell relays the US attrition rates for every 100 rape cases reported to the police – only seven achieve a guilty verdict in court. Cook describes a similar verdict rate in England and Wales and highlights the emotional fallout of the ‘lost’ 10,000 cases that do not even reach court.

In the face of the criminal justice system’s failure to either reduce incidence of sexual violence or prosecute offenders, Kemshall articulates a preventative public health approach while Campbell describes the curative Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner (SANE) programme. Kemshall shows how criminal justice focuses on surveillance, intensive measures of control and restriction through containment. The problem is that relatively few offenders are in fact imprisoned. Ministry of Justice statistics for 2007/8 reveal that 31,178 men and 838 women were arrested for sexual offences (Ministry of Justice 2010). Of

these 18 per cent of men and 10 per cent of women received some form of custodial sentence with about half actually going to prison. Thus the victim and the public are unlikely then to be protected from perpetrators of sexual violence by their being in custody. Kemshall makes the case for switching attention from preventative custody solutions to preventative interventions. Thus she identifies the need to intervene and prevent sexually abusive behaviour in children. Farr
et al
. (2004) indicate that while the precise numbers of sexual offences committed by adolescents is unknown, research from the USA suggests that approximately one in five rapes and up to half of child molestations are perpetrated by adolescents. From their comparison of adolescent sex offenders and a normative control the former exhibited higher levels of callous sexual attitudes towards females. Interestingly, the sex offending adolescents had a less well developed sense of their own masculinity. Whittaker
et al
. (2006) found that adolescent sex offenders scored lower on a sexual knowledge questionnaire compared with a non-offending comparison group. These findings suggest that working with adolescents to understand sexual functioning, developing appropriate empathic skills and positive sense of masculinity by enhancing social skills of perspective taking may be beneficial in preventative efforts. Polaschek (2010) remains less than sanguine at the efficacy of programmes aimed at intervening with violent men as most are re-convicted of a further offence but Kemshall reiterates the importance of increasing public awareness about such programmes and the need to continue public funding of them.

Networking and social connectiveness are shown to be important for both those being targeted and those doing the targeting for sexual violence. Kemshall describes the ‘Good Lives Model’ which was a reaction against the rather pessimistic ‘nothing works’ position. The underlying principle is that offenders are human beings and seek satisfaction in certain areas of life that is important to their well-being (McMurran 2010). The trouble is that offenders seek satisfaction in highly problematic areas. Kemshall argues that this approach attempts to reintegrate offenders into leading better (good) lives. However, the model appears less successful in situations where there are looser networks and weaker social ties. Hoel and Lewis also point out that weak networking linkage outside the workplace adds to the vulnerabilities of LGBT workers and heightens their risk of being targeted for workplace bullying.

Kemshall’s shift of emphasis to supporting victims is marked by a shift of philosophy where there is a stark difference between the medico-legal practice and the lived experience of victims. Interestingly, when Rebecca Campbell describes the SANE project she states that its philosophy is to help the victim as patient first and foremost. This programme was devised in collaboration with rape crisis and victim advocacy and is a 24-hour first response for the psychological, medical and forensic care of sexual assault victims/survivors. Most are located in emergency departments although there are some that are community based. The aim is to minimise trauma and maximise the probability of reliable forensic evidence collection. There are now some 500 such programmes in America and Canada. Campbell evaluates why they spread: their relative advantages are easily apparent and compatible with

nursing practice; it is a standardised intervention model and has a codified training; there are observable benefits to survivors; the medically collected forensic evidence is more thorough and accurate. Campbell notes that not only is there more positive feedback from victims who have used the SANE programmes but they experience greater post-assault infection care and there is a greater number of reported cases to law enforcement agencies. Patients using SANE are not obliged to report to the police, but if they decide to do so then the forensic evidence collected by staff can be released. So an intervention designed to rename the victim as a patient actually increases the likelihood of her reporting to the police and the quality of the forensic evidence collected increases chances of securing a conviction.

Identification and management of risk

Risk is also a theme that interlaces the chapters. Hoel and Lewis talk about the risks associated with being targeted in the workplace. Elsewhere in this volume risk factors associated with being the victim of domestic violence are discussed (see for example Chapter
7 by Brown). Walby and Myhill (2000) identified some key factors associated with the likelihood of suffering domestic violence. These were a history of previous assault, actual or potential separation from the violent partner, being unemployed and economically dependent on the partner, poverty and social exclusion, being younger. The Metropolitan Police Service has a checklist assessment to monitor escalation in reports of domestic violence which includes some of these factors (Richards 2003). Kemshall observes that one failure can hazard the credibility of such approaches. A recent failure, that of the death of Arsema Dawit (IPCC 2010), is a tragic case in point. Miss Dawit reported an assault and threats to kill her made by her ex-boyfriend in April 2008. Notwithstanding her age – she was 15

– previous injuries, and separating from her boyfriend, there was insufficient police response. Miss Dawit was murdered by her boyfriend in June 2008. The IPCC concluded there had been a series of omissions, misunderstandings and assumptions such that the information given to them about the assaults and threats was insufficiently acted upon. Regan and Kelly (2008) analysed seven cases of murder following histories of domestic violence and concluded that the risk markers would not have highlighted danger signals in these particular cases and that more qualitative factors should feature in risk assessment tools. Kemshall’s discussion about managing risks takes the focus to communities which become a potential source of vigilance and monitoring. However, she notes that risks are not equally distributed in communities, with some having a disproportionate share. What might be conceived as community involvement in sharing responsibility for managing risks may on the one hand be experienced as ‘dumping’ whereby overloaded and under-resourced and hard to reach groups feel abandoned. On the other hand more affluent communities may exhibit ‘nimbyism’ (not in my back yard) faced with the prospect of hostels or halfway houses and their attendant adverse effect on

property values (McGuickin and Brown 2001).

Risk assessment is a critical tool for decision-makers such as sentence

adjudicators, parole boards and probation officers, who primarily focus on whether an intervention has decreased the risk of offending, and influences placement of offenders in the community or their retention in custody (Serran
et al
. 2010). Kewley in her practitioner commentary (Part Three of this Handbook) alludes to the work of the probation service in both protecting the public and reducing reoffending. She describes two offender behaviour programmes dealing with sex offending and domestic violence although she questions this bifurcation as, clearly, there is a good deal of overlap between behaviours (cf. Chapter
7 by Brown, this volume).
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Extending the continuum of violence

All the contributors to this
section discuss ideas in relation to Kelly’s continuum of violence. Rebecca Campbell argues that Kelly’s definition of sexual violence is couched in the language of the survivors and speaks of invasion, hurt, being degraded and lacking control. She believes that the continuum can be mirrored in help-seeking behaviours. She describes the sense of physical and psychological invasion experienced by survivors during medical examinations. These feelings shade into the violation of the rape itself and survivors may suffer secondary victimisation at the hands of those who are supposed to be supporting them. Cook discusses the attrition process whereby cases fall out of the criminal justice process and says that simply pointing victims to report to the police to get justice is insufficient to resolve their victimisation. The continuum of sexual violence, she argues, broadens the definition beyond the fixed and narrow boundaries of legal definitions. The continuum is a useful analytic device to design responses to sexual violence starting with women’s experiences. The SANE programme is an example of listening to women and drawing on the expertise of the voluntary sector to design interventions with care for the person at the heart.

Hoel and Lewis, contrary to Kelly’s position, argue for a continuum of severity, from the relatively harmless acts to the rarer and more severe actions. They suggest that the severity of a bullying act in the workplace, or its long- term impact, radically redefines the relationship between the bully and the victim and even possibly the former’s relationship with significant others within the organisation. They give by way of an example the forced outing of an LGBT employee, with the ordeal being exacerbated by a hostile or homophobic work environment.