#Gamergate, Roast Busters and Revenge Porn – The limits of the law in combatting sexual violence on the internet

roastbusters 1

By Vita Bryant (Fightback Wellington).

My knowledge of, and interest in video games is practically non-existent, but when I saw #gamergate trending on my social media newsfeeds, I was intrigued – was the community finally having a discussion on the role of women in gamer culture that went beyond token sterotypes of “cool girls” and “booth babes”?  If it something sounds too good to be true it often is – it turns out #gamergate was not a social movement but a bizarre case of cyber-harassment gone viral.  Eron Gjoni, a disgruntled ex-boyfriend of independent game developer Zoe Quinn posted a series of rants on a number of internet gaming forums detailing the breakdown of their relationship.  Included in this treatise was the allegation that during their relationship, Quinn cheated on him with a number of people, including a journalist and reviewer for a well-known gaming website.  Eventually, enough people (perhaps with limited experience of interpersonal relationships) read these posts and decided that the fact that a consensual sexual relationship between a game developer and a game reviewer had not received any coverage by the mainstream gaming press must be symptomatic of a mass conspiracy of a press collusion with game developers and producers.

If this sounds like a ridiculous “storm in a teacup” to you, that’s because it is – and yet the explicit death and sexual violence threats levelled against Quinn and her supporters were enough to make Quinn leave her home and go into hiding and others to leave the gaming industry altogether.  What’s perhaps the most shocking is that despite these threats being made in very public forums, at the time of writing no criminal charges have been laid as a result of #gamergate.

Meanwhile in California, the state legislature has amended SB 255, its “revenge porn” law, to include “selfies” distributed without the subject’s permission, following a 2013 study by internet security company McAfee which found that about 10% of ex-partners had threatened to expose intimate photos of their ex online, with about 60% following through on those threats.  So far California is the only state that specifically makes the non-consensual distribution of “selfies” a criminal offense.  Similarly in UK, the House of Lords have unanimously agreed that the proposed Criminal Justice and Courts Bill should include provisions criminalising revenge porn, after the eight police forces in England and Wales who kept data on the issue received 149 complaints from victims of revenge porn in the past two and a half years, most of whom had to rely on copyright/civil law (and thus access to a lawyer and the court system) in order to have the pictures removed. 

Finally in Aotearoa, after a year-long investigation into the so-called “Roast Busters” group, police have stated that none of the perpetrators will be prosecuted due to a lack of admissible evidence – despite the fact that the offenders maintained a Facebook group dedicated to bragging about their crimes.  All of these incidences highlight both an inability and an unwillingness of criminal legislation and the police and prosecutors who enforce it to adequately deal with sexual violence. Relegating the distribution of intimate images to the realm of copyright infringement and civil law creates a two-tier system where only survivors with access to lawyers will be able to take measures to reclaim their images.  If perpetrators can brag about their offenses on social media, and those social media posts do not hold sufficient evidentiary value to initiate sanctions against the offenders, those rules of evidence are failing survivors. 

The failure of criminal justice systems to address the needs of victims of sexual violence is both global and systematic.  It is born from legislatures that prioritise defence budgets over responding to technological developments in gender violence, and perpetuated by police forces with a limited understanding of the effects of all kinds of sexual violence on survivors. Without a complete overhaul of the way we make and uphold laws, survivor-centred criminological research and education of law-makers and law-enforcers, sexual violence will continue to be perpetrated, both online and in the “real” world, with no access to justice for its victims.    

Mass surveillance and sexual violence: The difference between Snowden and Assange

Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden: whistleblowers persecuted for exposing imperialist abuses

Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden: whistleblowers persecuted for exposing imperialist abuses

Last night’s ‘Moment of Truth’ event in Auckland, called together by Internet Party founder Kim Dotcom, revealed the extent of mass surveillance in Aotearoa/NZ. Our government, in complicity with a transnational regime headed by the US, collects extensive personal data through information technology. As seen in the 2007 Urewera Raids, governments will use this information to justify attacks on ordinary people.

The ‘Moment of Truth’ event brought Dotcom together with whistle-blower Edward Snowden, Wikileaks founding member Julian Assange, and journalist Glen Greenwald.

Although Snowden, Dotcom and Assange are all sought by authorities, the nature of the charges are different. Copyright and espionage laws are largely designed to help governments and corporations protect their power; sexual violence, in the case of Assange, is itself an abuse of power.

We can walk and chew gum, opposing both surveillance and sexual violence. Fightback supports exposing mass surveillance, however we argue it is not necessary to give a platform to Julian Assange. These cases need to be distinguished.

Edward Snowden
Snowden is a whistle-blower, known for leaking classified information from the US National Security Agency (NSA). He is sought by the US government for espionage and theft of government property, currently residing in Russia.

For socialists, the real crime is not Snowden’s betrayal of his imperialist masters, but the international system of violence and surveillance he helped expose. Betraying this system is a necessary, even heroic act.

At the ‘Moment of Truth’ event, Snowden revealed that the NSA has bases in Auckland and Northland. Progressives in Aotearoa/NZ welcome Snowden (and journalist Glenn Greenwald) in helping us expose the complicity of our government in imperialist abuses.

Kim Dotcom
Kim Dotcom is a German-Finnish resident of Aotearoa/NZ, the founder of file-sharing business Megaupload. In early 2012, Dotcom was arrested for copyright infringement at the behest of the US government.

Dotcom describes this experience of state repression as a politicising event. In opposition to imperialist agreements, such as the Trans Pacific Partnership Agreement (TPPA) and the Five Eyes agreement, Dotcom found unity with social democratic and radical indigenous forces, forging the basis of the Internet Mana electoral alliance.

Dotcom is no angel. He’s a profiteer (although Internet Mana’s policy process has led to Dotcom advocating taxes on the rich), and was accurately described by Internet Party gender spokesperson Pani Farvid as a “product of sexist culture.”

As phrased by Jacobin Magazine’s Gavin Mueller, “it’s so easy to hate Kim Dotcom that you almost forget that the US convinced the New Zealand government to send in an assault brigade, bereft of a valid warrant but outfitted with automatic weapons and helicopters, to arrest a Finnish citizen at the demand of Hollywood studios.”

Progressives in Internet Mana unite with Dotcom around shared demands, particularly opposing corporate copyright laws and transnational state repression.

Julian Assange
Assange is a founding member of Wikileaks, an organisation whose leaking of state secrets have helped in exposing international imperialist abuses. He is also sought for questioning related to charges of sexual violence.

Some accuse the women involved of being CIA ‘honey traps,’ or the authorities of manufacturing charges.

However, the facts of the case are well-established, admitted by Assange’s legal defence. Assange had sex with a woman while she was sleeping, and had sex without a condom when requested to wear a condom. These are violations of consent.

We don’t have to trust the state to believe women’s testimony of being assaulted.

Assange should not be given a platform at progressive events. This discredits the movement against neoliberalism and mass surveillance.

See also

Queer Politics and the Election: What are “Our” issues?

Action in solidarity with queer worker mistreated by McDonalds during 2013 industrial dispute.

Action in solidarity with queer worker mistreated by McDonalds during 2013 industrial dispute.

By Nic Wood, reprinted from Ours.

I’m queer. My ideas about what it means to be and belong as a queer person have changed a lot since I ‘came out’ in my teenage years. It’s interesting for me to reflect on this in the context of an election, because the notion of ‘belonging’ is intensified and highly visible in lots of ways in the lead–up to voting day.

Belonging is a powerful force. When we belong, we can feel swept up by a kind of euphoria, or simply able to go about life with ease, without having our presence questioned. And when we don’t belong, the consequences are often borne out painfully: as exclusion and discrimination, or even as physical violence.

For queer people—that is, lesbians, gays, bisexuals, trans people, intersex people, and the multitude of others whose genders/sexualities appear to be at odds with what’s deemed ‘normal’—belonging holds a particular importance. Our early years are often marked by its absence or denial. This can manifest as the loneliness and fear of being ‘in the closet’, or the extremely noticeable difference of being ‘out’ (sometimes by our own choice, other times unavoidably).

I think it’s this sort of beginning which makes the search for and congregation in ‘community’ by queer people all the stronger. If you’ve ever been to a pride parade you may understand what I mean when I say that belonging can ‘sweep you up’; there’s a swell of emotion that comes from the togetherness at such events. I remember the first time I attended one in Wellington, I felt so at home, unlike I ever had around family and friends who’d not known, or liked, my sexuality. It was at once comforting and exhilarating.

Who gets to feel included in this euphoria, though? Not everyone. One of the things about belonging and inclusion is that to exist for some people, they rely on the exclusion of others. One could argue that it’s belonging which drives a nation to mobilise to vote, and underpins attempts to secure the vote of those who understand themselves as ‘kiwis’.

Belonging, already so important for many queers, is sharply in focus in public discourse at election time. Deciding how to vote, we might look at literal representation: how many ‘out’ queer–identified MPs or candidates are there in each political party? How about how many overtly homophobic and transphobic ones? If we’re concerned with the politics of inclusion—of ensuring that queer people have access to the same conditions as others who are included within the nation—we might consider candidates’ stances on explicitly ‘queer’ policies like marriage and adoption equality, or regulations around service in the military.

But you could say this focus on inclusion in what’s ‘normal’ shores up a narrow idea of what a queer person is. This tends to make the experiences of the very narrow selection of queers who benefit from these measures—generally wealthy, white, and more often than not male—appear as universal for everyone.

The longer I live openly as a queer person and meet others, the more I realise this is not true; the comfort and ‘at home’-ness I felt in my first pride parade was something many of my friends could enjoy in the same way. And the more my understanding of my sexual orientation matures, the more I question whether things like the right to marry would enable me to live freely, or actually restrict what I want to express. In my mind, the politics of representation and inclusion run the risk of erasing the very difference they purport to speak for. Although that difference can bring us much pain and hardship, it also makes us alive.

If we’re to be so wary of all of this, what might ‘our’ important election issues be? It’s hard to say. I do know that far more than we drink fancy cocktails or have lavish gay weddings, queer people—especially youth—are disproportionately affected by poverty. Maybe if we want to vote as queer people we should think about which policies for welfare, housing, access to education and healthcare will benefit those who are currently marginalised, and look into whether there are options which will see organisations who work to support queer and trans youth better supported.

While I’m not sure that voting or parliament hold all of the solutions for the complex structures of social power we need to undo to improve our lives, they do influence how much support organisations like the ones mentioned above get to do so within given frameworks. Perhaps instead of getting caught up in the fantasy of ‘gay rights’ which masks a certain kind of harm and exclusion, we might view voting as a pragmatic way to improve, however incrementally, the material conditions of the many queers who don’t get to be the faces of pride parades.

In 2012, Colin Craig tweeted that “it’s not intelligent to pretend that homosexual relationships are normal”. In the lead–up to the election, bytes like this have been dredged up by commentators; the ridicule of what many understand as laughably outdated homophobia has become a pretty typical part of political debate as voting day approaches.

While it’s important to call out homophobia, the response the statement begs also exemplifies up what I’m so wary about in the crossing-over of possibilities for belonging as queers, and the parliamentary election. In my personal experience voting is just one of many ways to make queer lives more liveable. Above all, we mustn’t settle for ‘normality’ as a goal.

There’s too much lost in that.

Fightback 2014 Educational Conference: Gender and Women’s Liberation Panel

 gender liberation panel

Sionainn Byrnes, member of Fightback and UC FemSoc.

For many socialist organisations, the task of orienting, and indeed incorporating the struggle for gender equality – and women’s liberation, in particular – has proved both ideologically and practically fraught. A lack of meaningful dialogue, and the dominant perception of a universal (masculine) working class, has meant that the productive overlap between the two – admittedly diverse – positions has remained largely unexplored. Yet, within New Zealand (and around the world) we are witnessing the radical regeneration of both socialist and feminist perspectives – intersectional consciousnesses taking root in our communities, and on our campuses, for example. Fittingly, the 2014 Fightback Educational Conference, perhaps resulting from a mixture of serendipity, and a concerted effort on Fightback’s behalf to commit to a socialist feminist ethic, strongly emphasized the shared elements, and interconnectedness, of the oppressions experienced by the working classes, women, and LGBQT+ communities under capitalism.

Not to be outshone by the empowering and inspiring opening speech by MANA President Annette Sykes, Kassie Hartendorp, Daphne Lawless, and Teresia Teaiwa delivered what I would call the most engaging panel of the weekend: ‘Gender and Women’s Liberation'”, served as a broad, but much needed, introduction to both socialism and feminism, and highlighted the positive overlap between the two perspectives. Kassie convincingly demonstrated the ways in which each position could ‘illuminate the blind spots of the other’ – socialism offering a lens to analyse and redress class issues within various feminist movements, and feminism as a means of connecting to, and engaging with, the unique oppressions experienced by women and non-binary individuals under a capitalist system.

Daphne’s presentation, ‘Gender Diversity and Capitalism’, expanded on this introduction, and moved into the realm of gender policing, and the commodification of gender under capitalism. In illustrating the ways in which capitalism controls the expression of gender through the production and consumption of acceptable male and female identities (in the form of various products – cosmetics, food, and clothing being obvious examples), Daphne exposed the means by which capitalism is implicated in the oppression of women, and the overwhelming suppression of those individuals on the non-binary gender spectrum. Daphne argued that gender, like all commodities, is sold to us within a capitalist framework. Daphne also connected the struggle for transgendered actualization to capitalist structures by underlining the centrality of gender realignment surgery to trans* recognition and legitimacy within Western culture. This showed us how this kind of actualization is financially inaccessible to many people, and thus discriminatory on a class level, and how blatantly uncomfortable our overarching system of organization is with individuals who do not conform to the male/female binary. Daphne further critiqued the prevalent ‘lean in’ brand of capitalist feminism espoused by individuals such as Sheryl Sandberg.

Finally, in ‘Gender and Decolonisation’, Teresia, a poet and senior lecturer in Pacific Studies at Victoria University of Wellington, discussed the continued imperialism evident within mainstream feminist movements. Teresia used the recent ‘# Bring Back Our Girls’ hash tag as an example of the way that Western feminism co-opts, universalises, and erases the struggles of ethnic and indigenous women. Looking to the power in language, Teresia questioned who and what ‘our’ girls really means, and explained the difference between standing in solidarity as an ally with women around the globe, as opposed to moderating and speaking for these women, their movements, and their issues. Turning her attention to the Pacific, Teresia described thoughtfully the effect that Western feminism is having on indigenous women’s movements, preventing the imagination and implementation of unique and culturally appropriate feminist positions. Teresia’s talk gave attendees, particularly those of a feminist persuasion, much to think about in terms of the way that they pursue and frame struggles for gender equality and women’s liberation – considerations that are particularly relevant to the nascent formation of a so-called ‘Fourth Wave’ of feminism.

The ‘Gender and Women’s Liberation’ panel was, ultimately, a timely reminder of the need for an intersectional socialist movement – one that incorporates, respects, and engages with the unique experiences of men, women, and non-binary individuals under capitalism. It reflected Fightback’s recent commitment to a socialist feminist ethic, and laid the foundations for a radical socialist feminist consciousness within New Zealand.

 

Māoridom and Marxism

MANA Movement leader Hone Harawira addresses Fightback's 2014 educational conference, Capitalism: Not Our Future.

MANA Movement leader Hone Harawira addresses Fightback’s 2014 educational conference, Capitalism: Not Our Future.

By Joshua James. Originally published by Salient, student newspaper of Victoria University of Wellington.

I should warn the reader, I’m a Marxist. Unashamedly and unapologetically. I believe that groups in society are oppressed, marginalised and disenfranchised by the capitalist class in order for them to keep their profit margins high and revolutionary thoughts low. I’m also Māori, albeit not visibly: I’m a light skin from Ngāti Whātua. I grew up as Pākehā as possible, but have recently started to learn Te Reo Māori and have recently added Māori Studies as a major in my degree.

Marx opens The Communist Manifesto with the line “the history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles”, and that is most certainly true for our post-colonial history. There is the myth that the first settlers to arrive in Aotearoa wanted to escape the class system that existed in England; however, I would suggest that they moved here to set up their own class system – with them at the top and Māori at the bottom. These settlers, some of my whom are my ancestors, exploited Māori and our taonga and sent the profits back to the European continent. We saw European powers doing this to all of their colonies: they export raw goods from their colonies on the cheap and turn it into goods to either consume themselves, or sell it back to their colonies at a premium. This is capitalism in practice, profits at, any cost. The exploitation of Māori was only possible once the Crown and private companies had alienated Māori from the land – this was done through an influx of settlers, confiscation of land, and buying Māori land at vastly undervalued prices. Once Māori had little land ownership, it was easy for the capitalist class to further their exploitation, because Māori had lost their ability to ‘live off the land’ i.e. they had to partake in wage slavery just to get by.

It is only partially useful to use Marx to look at the history of our colonisation and exploitation; we must also use his theories to look at the future for the Aotearoa we could live in. Under Marxism, we could have Iwi and Hapu having autonomous kaitiakitanga of our taonga and resources. We would no longer be wage slaves. There wouldn’t be any 40-hour working week, because we would only need to work as much as we needed to to get by. The degradation and degeneration of our environment would also cease – no companies would be allowed to pollute, because under Marxism, there is a recognition of taiao. This isn’t some sort of silly dream: this is a very possible reality. It would require a combined Māori and Pākehā effort to rise up against the hand that feeds us (even as it robs us). For all Māori to truly live a good life, we must absolutely reject capitalism and its notion of profit before people and the planet. Capitalism can’t be tamed or restrained, only smashed by the workers of the world.