Abstract
The article provides an overview of and commentary on the last chapter of Cheit’s book, The Witch-Hunt Narrative: Politics, Psychology and the Sexual Abuse of Children. The chapter is divided into two sections called “Recent Developments” and “The Legacy of the Witch-Hunt Narrative.” We respond to the key assertions in each of those sections, providing discussion points of agreement and disagreement with Cheit, and note some areas Cheit does not cover, including important advances in the aftermath of the witch-hunt narrative (WHN). The article takes the position that there is cause for optimism with these advances in systems responses, child forensic interviewing research, and multidisciplinary team and training approaches; some of these advances are related to the WHN. The conclusion warns of the need to be vigilant about continuing Cheit’s work, we suggest this could take place in six key areas: (a) enhanced teacher training, (b) improved court responses to child sexual abuse (CSA) victims, (c) expanded use of Extended Forensic Interviews so that the complex cases (children with disabilities, children from multi problem households) might be thoroughly considered for prosecution, (d) broadened focus on CSA validation, recovery, and prevention, (e) engaged multistate research on the actual occurrence of day care CSA allegations, and (f) expanded efforts to educate the public and potential jury pools about the nuances of CSA prosecution, and the illusion of toughness in how we respond to convicted offenders. Cheit’s detailed research enables us to see where we came from, and what else needs to be done to understand the legacy of the WHN.
Chapter 7 in Cheit’s (2014) The Witch-Hunt Narrative: Politics, Psychology and the Sexual Abuse of Children delivers the book’s closing argument that the witch-hunt narrative (WHN) endures. Throughout the book, Cheit described WHN proponents as decrying the legal system’s wrongful prosecutions of people falsely accused of sexual abuse. Citing the book Jeopardy in the Courtroom as an example, Cheit argued that some WHN proponents want to highlight child suggestibility and discredit children as witnesses rather than “get to the bottom of cases used as illustrations” (p. 365). Cheit explained that other WHN proponents put forth political arguments from the left-side of the political spectrum that police or prosecutors abuse their power, or from the right-side of the political spectrum that child protective services constitutes the overreach of government into family matters (p. 383). If Cheit was right about this, and we suspect he was, the current polarizing political climate now gripping our country may serve to keep the political aspect of WHN very much alive. While we have much praise for Cheit’s research, we argue that the present response to child sexual abuse (CSA) is more comprehensive, effective, and research-based than Cheit represented.
To build his case, Cheit divided Chapter 7 into two parts. In the first section of this chapter, “Recent Developments,” Cheit made three arguments. For the first two arguments, Cheit disputed the assertions that the high-profile cases against the Catholic Church and Penn State, as well as harsh sex offender policies disabuse the existence of a present-day WHN. For the third argument, Cheit countered, “A prominent group of academics and activists [who] argue that witch-hunt-like cases continue to this day” (p. 365). In the later part of the chapter “The Legacy of the Witch-hunt Narrative,” Cheit (pp. 383-407) described how WHN proponents (a) continue to discount day care sexual abuse; (b) promote the suggestibility of children, (c) discredit delayed disclosures, and (d) depict child abuse professionals as member of “a dubious child abuse industry.” In the sections that follow, we will respond to each of Cheit’s arguments. This process will highlight our points of agreement and disagreement with Cheit (2014), as well as directions for the future. We will also discuss the progress that has been made regarding CSA cases involved in the legal system.
Recent Developments
The Catholic Church and Penn State
To the casual observer the cases against the Catholic Church and Penn State, and the policies addressing sex offenders upon their release, create the illusion that CSA victims are deemed credible. These incidents also suggest that the justice system responds with harsh punishments, without anyone crying witch-hunt. However, Cheit warned that the cases involving the Catholic Church and Penn State are unique because the key witnesses were adults, and there was significant evidence of widespread cover-ups. Cheit also explained that because the victims in the case against the Catholic Church were male, they may have been considered more credible because as Cheit asserted, “Nobody argues that a man would fantasize such a thing, or that he might be acting hysterically” (p. 367). We think that gender also may have played a central role in the Penn State case because the victims were all male. If males are more credible, the fact that law enforcement records indicate that 99% of all forcible rapes of children, and 87% of sexual assaults with an object against children involved female victims (H. N. Snyder, 2000), suggests that gender bias may be a factor in many cases.
Failure to identify abuse in schools
Although the outcomes of the Catholic Church and Penn State cases were positive, Cheit used two cases from Los Angeles Unified District Schools to convey that the response to the cases against the Catholic Church and Penn State does not indicate a sea change regarding CSA (p. 369). According to Cheit, the abuse committed by two teachers went undetected for years, and both teachers had been parties to prior criminal investigations with allegations of CSA. Cheit made a good point that school staff should have believed and reported children who came forward with earlier disclosures, but it would have been helpful if Cheit had explored why teachers do not believe children who report sexual abuse.
Several studies suggest that teachers’ and school personnel’s poor responses to CSA allegations may be the result of a lack of awareness regarding the signs and symptoms of child maltreatment and child abuse reporting procedures (Alvarez, Kenny, Donohue, & Carpin, 2004; Bryant & Milsom, 2005; Kenny, 2001, 2004). Sanghara and Wilson’s (2006) study in the United Kingdom compared teachers to professionals who provide treatment to sexual offenders on their endorsement of stereotypes for sexual offenders, their attitudes toward sexual offenders, and their knowledge of child abuse. They found that teachers held more negative stereotypes and negative attitudes toward sexual offenders, and they had less knowledge regarding sexual abuse, which could prevent them from accurately detecting or suspecting CSA. Bryant and Milsom’s (2005) study of child abuse reporting by school counselors in the Midwestern United States found that counselors were more confident in their ability to recognize physical abuse or neglect than sexual abuse. Kenny (2001) compared the responses of first-year teachers and physicians in the Southeastern United States on their mandated reporting obligation for two vignettes of CSA. They found that more physicians indicated that they would report the abuse than teachers (60% vs. 11%). One factor that explained this reporting disparity was that physicians had more training in child abuse than teachers.
Harsh Sex Offender Policies
Instead of consistently putting energy toward efforts like ensuring that mandated reporters are properly trained, as a society, we have instituted harsh sex offender policies. Cheit (pp. 370-374) correctly shone a light on our collective overreaction to sex offenders vis-à-vis offender registration, community notification laws, and civil commitment statutes. These responses to sex offenders provide the illusion of being severe and tough on crime, and performing a political service, even though the research on community notification systems is mixed (Cheit, p. 370; Finkelhor, 2009). Unfortunately, the financial costs are quite high. For example, civil commitment (i.e., holding sex offenders who are determined to be dangerous after completing their prison sentence) costs three to four times the amount of incarceration (Cheit, p. 371). The reason for the cost differential is that the civil commitment programs include treatment, psychological screenings, security and supervision, administrative costs, and separate facilities (Davey & Goodnough, 2007). Furthermore, a researcher in California found that only 2% (or 60 people) of those referred were civilly committed (Cheit, p. 371).
We agree with Cheit’s arguments that these recent developments are not indicative of a larger cultural shift regarding CSA. In most cases, sexual abuse offenders are rarely arrested, prosecuted, or sanctioned to the fullest extent of the law (see Cheit, pp. 191-195). At the same time we wish that Cheit had provided some clear actionable steps to improve how the justice system responds to CSA. Later in this article, as we discuss “The Backlash Against Institutions and Professionals,” we will suggest some steps that can be taken in the subsections titled “Factors Associated With Child Sexual Abuse Prosecution, Improving the Court’s Response to Child Sexual Abuse” and “Framing Child Sexual Abuse With a Broader Focus.”
Responding to WHN Academics and Activists
In each chapter, Cheit meticulously detailed cases WHN proponents have asserted are miscarriages of justice, where he unearthed compelling evidence of sexual abuse. In this final chapter, Cheit (pp. 375-381) investigated eight cases from the following WHN proponents: Debbie Nathan (also in this issue), Mark Pendergrast, Thomas Sowell, Carol Hopkins, and the National Center for Reason and Justice. For each case, Cheit provided evidence of CSA, including credible medical evidence, corroborating witnesses, as well as a confession in one case, and guilty pleas in two other cases. Given all of the evidence that disputes the WHN in these cases and others, it can be difficult to comprehend, as Cheit contended, the staying power of the WHN (p. 375). The next section of the article discusses strategies.
The Legacy of the WHN
Discounting Day Care Sexual Abuse
The first strategy of perpetuating the WHN has been to discount the original claims of day care abuse. According to Cheit, WHN proponents argue that the 20 year absence of a highly publicized day care sexual abuse case proves that the original cases were baseless. However, Cheit described day care cases from Van Buren, Arkansas, Yucaipa, Arizona, Ste. Genevieve, Missouri, and Wenatchee, Washington, wherein each of the sexual offenders admitted to abusing children. One case involved a “man who had a fetish with human excrement” and another involved the perpetrator performing oral copulation on children; each of these would be considered “fantastic” elements that lacked credibility had there not been video evidence in one case and a confession in the other. Each case involved multiple victims, but “none were quickly exposed” (p. 385). Although the cases presented are anecdotal, a national data archive does not exist for day care sexual abuse cases. Cheit contended that states with officially recorded data may report declines in investigating day care abuse, but those statistics may not reflect actual declines in abuse (p. 386). By Cheit’s own account, New Jersey’s Division of Youth and Family Services (DYFS) substantiated cases dropped from 25 in 1986, 10 in 1992, nine in 1993, one in 1994, and none through 1997 (p. 386). Cheit suggested that because the Kelly Michaels’ day care case was overturned in 1993, DYFS may have avoided day care cases in the years following that decision. We think Cheit makes a valid point here when he argues that we need to look at multiple states in a more recent time frame (p. 3286).
As Cheit discussed the decline in day care cases, he asserted that prosecutors have learned much from the WHN, and we agree (p. 384). In particular, he said that prosecutors have eliminated massive indictments, have pared down witness lists to the strongest candidates and counts, and have pursued only local media coverage. This evolution has long been in the works, and we would argue that ethical legal practice requires taking to court only what the prosecutor can confidently prove beyond a reasonable doubt.
Promoting Children’s Suggestibility
The second strategy WHN proponents use to undermine the credibility of children and their competence as witnesses is to promote the idea that children are highly suggestible. According to Cheit, promoting child suggestibility is an enduring effect of the WHN, and a key way that WHN proponents bolster their position (p. 387). Twice Cheit specifically identified the persuasive, but inaccurate, portrayal of the Michaels case as being responsible for this narrative taking hold (pp. 387, 397). Perhaps in his most salient argument about who the child abuse industry really is, Cheit lined up the actual transcripts of some of the Michaels case interviews conducted by Treacy (pp. 255-261) and compared them with the version reported in Ceci and Bruck’s (1995, p. 15) Jeopardy in the Courtroom. While claiming they “lightly edited these transcripts for dysfluencies and redundancies without altering the meaning,” Cheit showed that Ceci and Bruck’s edits altered the meaning, and made the passages appear disjointed and highly suggestive (p. 258). Cheit’s work was groundbreaking in this regard, and casts new light on the credibility of those authors and their lack of adherence to ethics of qualitative research (Creswell, 2013; Davidson, 2009). Cheit readdresses this controversy in his response (2017), providing clear examples that demonstrate this breach in ethics.
Failing to stop murder
Unfortunately, as Cheit explained, the cost of discrediting all children has resulted in a failure to stop some sexual offenders before they commit murder. Cheit described a 1996 episode of Nightline titled “A Child’s Word,” which examined whether children’s testimony was being unduly discredited as the result of the WHN (pp. 387-389). The episode detailed the case of two girls who were raped and murdered 10 months after another child had alleged attempted rape by the same sexual abuse predator; at the time of these attacks the perpetrator was on probation for prior CSA cases. Cheit also mentioned that there have been more recent “flashes of media attention” including the 2002 kidnapping, sexual assault, and murder of Samantha Runion by a man two 9-year-olds had also accused of sexual abuse (Bragg, 2002; this case is also examined by Lyon, Stolzenberg, McWilliams, 2017). According to Cheit, these cases “have not generated much commentary or attention to the general question of child credibility and whether the word of a child is too quickly doubted or dismissed” (p. 389). Like Cheit, we are troubled when the concept of suggestibility is used with a broad brush to raise doubt about the credibility of all children.
Taint hearings
According to Cheit (p. 390), another consequence of viewing children as suggestible has been the emergence of taint hearings, which are pretrial hearings that challenge the veracity of the findings from child investigative interviews (Myers, 1994). Cheit presented the Marzolf case in which a 7-year-old boy’s stepfather witnessed the child’s uncle with his hands in the child’s underpants (p. 390). New Jersey ordered a taint hearing, which treated the victim and his family like defendants. After 2 years, the family moved and refused to cooperate with the prosecution. Five years later, the uncle was arrested in Pennsylvania; he was charged with possession of child pornography and nine counts of CSA. He pled guilty to single felony counts of molestation and child pornography. Cheit explained that without the taint hearing, the subsequent abuse could have been avoided (p. 393). While we agree with Cheit that taint hearings can delay or derail convictions of sexual abuse perpetrators, we also recognize the clarion call for child abuse investigators to be vigilant about ensuring that interviews are conducted without using suggestive language because improperly conducted interviews can be the impetus for taint hearings (Joshi, 2010).
Kennedy v. Louisiana
Although we agree with most of what Cheit said in this section, we do wish that Cheit’s discussion of the Kennedy v. Louisiana U.S. Supreme court decision captured more of the complexity of the case (p. 400). We agree that it is extremely disconcerting that the Kennedy v. Louisiana opinion cited Ceci and Friedman’s (2000) Cornell Law Review article and their reference to “serious systematic concerns in child rape cases, particularly the ‘problem of unreliable, induced, and even imagined testimony’” (Cheit, p. 400). But, we think that Cheit should have explained that Patrick Kennedy was sentenced to death by the state of Louisiana for the rape of a child who did not die. An amici curiae brief submitted by several parties, including the National Association of Social Workers (NASW) and the Louisiana Chapter of NASW, expressed concern that the use of the death penalty may deter victims from reporting sexual abuse (NASW et al., 2008). We think that the potential unintended consequence of deterring disclosure warrants further discussion.
Discrediting Children’s Delayed Disclosures
The third strategy WHN proponents use to undermine the credibility of children and their competence as witnesses is to discredit children who do not immediately disclose CSA. Proponents of the WHN, such as Maggie Bruck, assert that CSA disclosures occur “in one fell swoop” (Cheit, p. 391). However, Roland Summit developed the Child Sexual Abuse Accommodation Syndrome (CSAAS) based on clinical observations to explain children’s process of disclosure (Summit, 1983). CSAAS consists of the following five components: (a) helplessness, (b) secrecy, (c) entrapment and accommodation, (d) delayed disclosure, and (e) retraction (Cheit, pp. 394-395). Cheit cited several examples of the WHN proponents’ attempts to discredit CSAAS. He also noted that WHN proponents Ceci and Bruck’s (1995) own meta-analysis found that two thirds of adults did not disclose abuse in a timely fashion (Cheit, p. 395). We agree with Cheit and the National Association of District Attorneys (2014) that CSAAS, when used appropriately, is of great value in explaining disclosure for some children. We find delayed disclosure to be very much in the mainstream of the literature with which we are familiar (Goodyear-Brown, Fath, & Myers, 2012).
Recantation
The fourth strategy the WHN proponents use is to argue that when children recant, their original allegations were false. Cheit provided the example of the Rouse case (pp. 396-399), which had disclosures of sexual abuse from four children and medical evidence of injuries to their labia; one child also had a scar on her anus. The defense had Ralph Underwager testify that the children’s statements were contaminated by coercive adults and therefore rendered unbelievable. The Eighth Circuit Court of Appeals referenced the Salem witch trials as they ruled in favor of the defendants, but less than 3 months later a grant of motion for rehearing vacated the order. A three-judge panel affirmed the original conviction in their opinion. Two years later the children recanted their abuse after living with their mothers and grandmothers who did not believe that the abuse had occurred. WHN proponents saw the recantation as evidence of the four defendants’ innocence, despite the medical evidence that indicated that sexual abuse occurred. However, Judge Pierson noted that the recantation occurred once the children were with mothers and grandmothers who did not believe the allegations and expressed that they missed their sons and brothers. Like Cheit and Judge Pierson, we understand that children might recant abuse. In fact, Malloy, Lyon, and Quas’ (2007) investigation of recantation among 2- to 17-year-old children with substantiated CSA allegations that resulted in dependency court proceedings found that 23.1% of youth recanted. Youth who recanted were more likely to be younger, abused by a parent-figure, and to have an unsupportive non-offending parent-figure.
Cheit closed this section with the assertion that just as there can be false accusations, there can also be false denials. He cited Lawson and Chaffin’s (1992) study wherein 57% of children who had sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) resulting from sexual abuse did not disclose the abuse during the first interview (as cited in Cheit, p. 400). Lawson and Chaffin are not the only researchers to consider disclosure rates among children with STDs; Lyon (2007) identified 21 studies and argued that non-disclosure of abuse among truly abused children is a documented and serious phenomenon. We found Cheit’s argument here among his most compelling on the issue of false denials and delayed disclosure.
Determining child competence
Unlike Cheit, we think that it is understandable that prosecutors may be reticent to try cases with very young victims (see Ornstein et al., 1998), but we do think that prosecutors should first assess whether each child is competent to perform as a credible witness using strategies set forth in empirical studies. For example, Lyon and Saywitz (1999) provided suggestions for determining children’s competence to take the oath based on the findings of two studies they conducted with children (ages 4 to 7 years old) awaiting dependency court hearings in Los Angeles County.
It is important to note that Lyon and Saywitz (1999) found that the maltreated youth in their study had receptive vocabulary scores that were more than one year behind the national average. Because of these language delays, how children are assessed affects what they understand. In particular, Lyon and Saywitz found that the majority of maltreated children they interviewed were unable to define “truth” and “lie,” or to distinguish between the two terms. Lyon and Saywitz recommend asking a child to identify which of two characters in a scenario is telling a lie to assess whether the child understands the difference between telling the truth and telling a lie (see http://www.ou.edu/cwtraining/assets/pdf/handouts/1012/Lyon%20Saywitz%20Picture%20Tasks%2003.pdf). To assess if a child understands the morality of telling a lie, Lyon and Saywitz recommend forced questions that require a child to be given a scenario and then choose between two characters whose behavior was “good” or “bad” or which of the two characters “will get in trouble” or “said something bad” (p. 26). Their research has led to the establishment of empirically based court school preparations programs, a few of which are accessible online (Cunningham & Stevens, 2011).
Cultural Issues and CSA Investigations
We also contend that it would have been helpful if Cheit had included some cultural issues that may confuse children or inhibit disclosure. Newlin et al. (2015) cautioned that culture may account for misunderstandings in the interview context. Fontes and Plummer (2010) explained that when we understand the values of people from different cultures, we can better understand barriers to disclosure. For example, when children feel shame regarding sexuality or have religious taboos surrounding sexuality, they may be especially reluctant to make disclosures of abuse. In the examples Fontes and Plummer provide, Arab cultures hold values of shame (sharam) or modesty (baya) closely; Hispanic individuals value modesty (pudor); and, South Asian communities value honor or respect (izzat). In addition, cultures may emphasize virginity or have gender expectations that devalue females’ disclosures of abuse. Fontes and Plummer also detailed the structural barriers that can impede disclosures, such as language barriers, immigration laws, racism or other discrimination, inadequate health insurance or care, or school overcrowding, which prevents teachers from knowing children well enough to uncover abuse. For example, African American children may not disclose sexual abuse because they both fear and distrust law enforcement (Hlavka & Uggen, 2008).
Disabilities and CSA Investigations
Similarly, Cheit did not identify that any of the children in the three principle cases that anchor the book had disabilities or special needs. Children with disabilities are potentially at greater risk for all forms of abuse and neglect than their non-disabled peers (Hershkowitz, Lamb, & Horowitz, 2007). In his defense, that information may have not been available to him or the original investigators, although children with these conditions may well have been involved. Fortunately, we now know a lot more about what kinds of interviewing adaptations these children require (Block, Foster, Pierce, Berkoff, & Runyan, 2013; Faller, Cordisco-Steele, & Nelson-Gardell, 2010; Newlin et al., 2015). While speech and language pathologists and some trained law enforcement officers will know how to utilize augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) devices to obtain information about some of these children’s experiences, the courts are generally not accustomed to dealing with persons with complex communication needs (Huer & Yaniv, 2006).
The Backlash Against Institutions and Professionals
Cheit’s final argument was that WHN proponents attack the institutions and professionals whose job is serving victims of child maltreatment. For example, Cheit contended that WHN proponents have scapegoated the Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act as the impetus for false accusations across the country (p. 405). Cheit suggested that WHN proponents have an agenda of eliminating mandatory child abuse reporting and federal funds for child protective services and foster care. However, this agenda lacks political support (p. 405). Cheit also asserted that WHN proponents refer to professionals who investigate, prosecute, or treat child maltreatment as members of the “child abuse industry” (p. 406). The implication of this “moniker” is that these professionals profit from finding maltreatment where it may not exist. Cheit noted that the financial gains of WHN proponents are not similarly scrutinized (p. 406).
Cheit (pp. 401-405) also used the death of 9-year-old Matthew Ardolino who was allegedly killed by his father to illustrate his point that medical evidence and witnesses are discredited by WHN proponents. (In this issue, please see Alexander who summarizes the medical issues in relationship to the WHN.) Matthew’s brother, David, denied abuse during his first two interviews, but 6 months later his foster mother contacted police to say that David wanted to share what happened. WHN proponent Maggie Bruck argued that David’s first interview in which he denied abuse should be the only evidence considered. Cheit pointed out the irony that Bruck had discredited the Rouse children’s initial disclosures, but supported their later recantation (p. 404). While we agree with Cheit’s point that Bruck may be placing her bias ahead of her consideration of the entire case, we do not find it surprising that children may be reluctant to disclose sexual abuse (or other abuse) because they either want to protect their abusers or they are scared of retaliation from their abusers.
Cheit suggested in general terms that children’s experiences should be validated in the judicial system—and we agree—however, solving the problem requires clear, actionable steps to enhance the protective capacity of the courts (p. 394). While Cheit did not provide such steps we shall in the next three sections.
Our Recommendations
Educating the Public
As a first step, it would be helpful if the general public understood the small number of cases that are prosecuted (see Cheit, p. 373), to diminish the perception of a hysteric over-response to CSA. Professionals in this field need to disseminate this message through media channels and other forms of public discourse. It is imperative to communicate that the highest possible threshold of evidence in the law is the threshold for a guilty verdict, requiring an assertion of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. Because of this high standard, very few victims of CSA ever have their day in criminal court. According to H. N. Snyder’s (2000) analyses of data from the National Incident-Based Reporting System (the most recent report available), only 29% of alleged CSA offenders are arrested.
In addition to the threshold of evidence, the public is also not aware that generally only offenders and victims with certain characteristics are likely to be prosecuted. Sedlak et al.’s (2005) study of data from the Third National Incidence Study of Child Abuse and Neglect found that cases with male offenders between 26 and 35 years old, and female victims, were significantly more likely to be involved in criminal court than cases without those characteristics. Having a history of prior maltreatment also contributed to prosecution (over 51% of the cases with evidence of prior child abuse were prosecuted). Walsh, Jones, Cross, and Lippert (2010) found that cases with male offenders, alleged penetration, elementary aged child victims (8-11 years old), an offender confession, or corroborating witness were more likely to result in charges being filed. Having at least two or three types of evidence also resulted in charges and a guilty plea. Walsh et al. found that in 80% of the cases where offenders were charged they were convicted. The primary reason charges were not filed was insufficient evidence.
Improving the Court’s Response to CSA
As a second step, it would be helpful if states would enact statutes or court rules to limit the number of repetitive questions lawyers can ask children, which can unduly influence some children to change their answers. One example of such code can be found in Section 765 of the California Evidence Code, which mandates courts to exercise control over witness interrogation to ensure that it is rapid, distinct, and effective at ascertaining the truth (Andrews, Lamb, & Lyon, 2015). However, even in California, Andrews et al.’s (2015) examination of 106 trial transcripts for 120 child victims found attorneys repeated questions 12,169 times.
Prosecutors repeated 17.8% of their questions and defense attorneys repeated 33.6% of their questions. Andrews et al. (2015) also examined the extent that attorneys objected to repeated questions. They identified 45 asked-and-answered objections, which were overruled 60% of the time (n = 27). The results of this study indicates that even when evidentiary rules are codified, judges need training to understand the underlying research that justifies rules limiting questioning, to help apply those rules properly.
Reframing CSA With a Broader Focus
Because of the limitations of the criminal justice system’s ability to address CSA, our third step calls for reframing CSA with a broader focus for all victims of CSA, including those whose cases are not prosecuted. Specifically, we want child victims whose cases do not go to court to have opportunities for validation, integration/recovery, and prevention. This broader focus is critical to stem the tide of long-term harms linked to sexual abuse, such as depression (Dube et al., 2005), substance use (Dube et al., 2005; Shin, Hong, & Hazen, 2010; S. M. Snyder & Rubenstein, 2015), attempted suicide (Dube et al., 2005), runaway or homelessness episodes (S. M. Snyder et al., 2016), and adverse health consequences, such as cardiopulmonary symptoms, gastrointestinal health, gynecologic health, and obesity (Irish, Kobayashi, & Delahanty, 2010). Furthermore, in the analogous context of child maltreatment, several studies have found similar levels of negative behaviors associated with that maltreatment even when insufficient evidence exists to substantiate the maltreatment (cf. Chiu, Ryan, & Herz, 2011; S. M. Snyder & Smith, 2015). Another important part of reframing CSA with a broader focus is increasing the visibility of all survivors of child abuse to help reduce shame and stigma through public education efforts. One exemplar of this is the work done by Darkness to Light (see www.d2l.org), a non-profit organization whose work has included media campaigns, documentaries, and interactive prevention training programs.
Progress Made Addressing CSA
In addition to the absence of actionable steps that could be taken, Cheit did not include an adequate discussion of the progress that has been made addressing CSA; some of which may have a relationship to the WHN. For example, during the McMartin era (Cheit, p. 152, described this as being approximately 1984-1990), the National Children’s Alliance (NCA; 2014) and the Los Angeles County Child Sexual Abuse Crisis Center were established, and research regarding interview protocols emerged. Starting with that 1984-1990 time frame and continuing on to the early 2000s, we have identified several key areas of progress in prevention, intervention, and treatment addressing CSA (arguably there are more). We developed this list in review of the advances described separately by Gillies and Olafson in this issue. These are identified on Table 1 and some are described briefly here.
Advances in CSA (Partial List).
Note. CSA = child sexual abuse; APSAC = American Professional Society on the Abuse of Children; NCTSN = National Child Traumatic Stress Network; NICHD = National Institute of Child Health and Human Development; NCA = National Children’s Alliance.
See NCA (2014).
See Gillies (2017).
See Newlin et al. (2015).
See Lyon (2005).
See Olafson (2017).
Some systems’ responses to the first appearances of the WHN were possibly idiosyncratic to California, because of its proximity to the McMartin case. For example, Gillies (2017) describes the following as being established in California, in the aftermath of the McMartin case: Protocols for medical examinations of children suspected of being sexually abused, the Los Angeles County Child Sexual Abuse Crisis Center, the Child Abuse and Family Violence Institute at California State University Los Angeles, the Child Sexual Abuse Training Center at Children’s Institute International, and the Preschool Safety Taskforce. While California may have been in the forefront of these developments, it should be noted that the National Advocacy Center movement originated in Huntsville Alabama.
Cheit did not credit the movement toward an evidence-based, investigative interviewing protocol as a being related to the WHN, but we think the connection is partially warranted. Poole and Lamb (1998, p. ix) stated clearly in the preface of Investigative Interviews of Children that “the particular convergence of social realities of the 1980s and early 1900s” inspired their work. Lamb would go on to lead the team that developed the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development Protocol (NICHD); he and his colleagues collectively stated that their efforts were prompted, in part, by widespread publicity about the infamous cases (Lamb, Sternberg, Orbach, Hershkovitz, & Horowitz, 2003, p. 1202). In essence, this was an effort that has successfully brought mainstream interviewing practice into closer fidelity with child development principles that can motivate children to narrate and understand the task before them. Lyon’s (2005) 10 Step Interview adapts the NICHD protocol for everyday accessibility to the child protective services and law enforcement workforce. The NICHD protocol co-exists with other interview guidelines offered by multidisciplinary training programs from the American Professional Society on the Abuse of Children (APSAC), the National Children’s Advocacy Center (NCAC), the CornerHouse Interagency Child Abuse Evaluation and Training Center, and the Gunderson National Child Protection Training Center (Newlin et al., 2015). Although it can be argued that these systems responses, impressive developments in the field of forensic interviewing of children, and the creation of multidisciplinary team and training centers were all unrelated to high-profile CSA cases, we think these trajectories were related.
Cheit briefly noted that Tasha Boychuck, who testified in the Charles Bighead case, was a forensic psychologist from the Child Advocacy Center (CAC) in Phoenix (see p. 379); however, Cheit did not explain the role of CAC or their history. Robert E. “Bud” Cramer, the Madison County Alabama District Attorney, who later served in Congress, spearheaded a group of individuals from agencies serving victims of CSA to form the children’s advocacy center model. This model provides coordinated investigations and services through a team of child protective services, victim advocates, forensic interviewers, law enforcement, criminal justice, health care, and mental health workers. The purpose of the model was to coordinate the multidisciplinary investigation and intervention to child abuse allegations among various agencies responding to maltreatment, so as to limit additional trauma and to ensure each child receive the services needed to help him/her overcome the abuse, if it occurred (Newlin, 2015).
In 1985, Cramer and his group filed for Articles of Incorporation for the first NCAC in Huntsville, Alabama (NCAC, 2016; Newlin, 2015). As a Member of Congress, Cramer worked to pass the Victims of Child Abuse Act of 1990 (P.L.101-647) to fund CACs across the country, including four regional CACs and a membership organization called NCA. This legislation also funded training and technical assistance for child abuse prosecutors and training and child abuse professionals (NCA; Jackson, 2004; Newlin, 2015). Between 1992 and 2008, Cramer advocated for nearly $200 million in federal funds for CACs throughout the United States, and for more than $12 million to fund the NCAC (Newlin, 2015).
Since 1988, the NCA has accredited Children’s Advocacy Centers, provided evidence-based trainings, and mandated peer review of videotaped interviews (NCA, 2014). The NCA has accredited over 785 CAC members to date and 49 state chapters (NCA, 2014). The NCA has played a pivotal role in identifying videotaping as the preferred mode of victim interview documentation, despite videotaping’s earlier controversial role in the McMartin case (Lyon & Dente, 2013). Another innovation in interviewing, now known as extended forensic interviews (EFIs), was pioneered in CACs. EFIs are based on the needs of the child, the case dynamics, and are conducted over several sessions that are non-duplicative (Carnes, Wilson, & Nelson-Gardell, 1999; Faller & Nelson-Gardell, 2010; Steele & Fortin, 2014). This practice has specific utility for children whose cultural issues may have an impact on their ability to discuss anything that might have happened in their extended family.
Other evidence-based trainings are also offered by the National Child Traumatic Stress Network (NCTSN), established by Congress in 2000, with its now 79 funded members, and APSAC. NCTSN offers nationally accessible e-learning courses as well as local conference-based trainings. APSAC has also been in the forefront of developing forensic child interview guidelines in cases of suspected child abuse (APSAC, 2012). APSAC has pioneered the Forensic Interviewing Clinic model that provides attendees a balanced review of several protocols, from which they can develop their own customized approach. It is worth noting that the United States Congress and the federal government have provided funding as identified for some of these efforts. Thus, it is important to advocate for federal policies that continue these capacities.
Conclusion
We believe the long arc of responding to CSA bends toward seeing children as credible witnesses and away from the WHN that Cheit described throughout his text. In fact, Cheit’s detailed research helps expose the WHN proponents for who they are as a collective: journalists whose claims of hundreds of falsely convicted victims have little to no documentation, defense attorneys, and academics whose collaborations are not transparent and those same academics who engage in practices such as deceptively editing transcripts or making decisions without examining the totality of the evidence. Specifically, Cheit’s work shows that interview transcripts from the Kelley Michael’s case were actually significantly altered and presented as if they were sequential. Ceci and Bruck’s (1995) were invited to respond to Cheit’s book for this issue, but they declined to do so.
We have provided our points of agreement and disagreement with Cheit. Although we present a case for the progress that has been made since the initial WHN time frame, we do agree with Cheit’s call for remaining vigilant. So we call for future research and practice to focus on the following six areas that we have touched on in this analysis. First, there should be enhanced teacher training. To improve teacher’s responses to sexual abuse, we believe they need to receive standardized training regarding legal definitions of sexual abuse, indicators of sexual abuse, thresholds for reporting, and actual reporting procedures. Universities that train future teachers should incorporate trainings into the curriculum, child protective services workers should coordinate with school districts to offer trainings, and evidence-based training approaches should be employed (Hinkelman & Bruno, 2008). Furthermore, we think all mandatory child abuse reporters should have a periodic booster training. This could enable early and appropriate reporting, preventing the problems identified by Cheit when school staff do not respond appropriately.
Second, there is much to do to improve the court’s responses to CSA victims. For example, we raised the concern about leading and confusing questions asked by attorneys to child witnesses. We applaud the use of evidence-based curricula to teach child victims how to understand the court process. Related to this second concern, our third recommendations for future research and practice is expanding the use of EFIs as a way of providing full prosecution consideration to the complex cases where a child may have a developmental disability or other obstacles to disclosure. We know children with disabilities are high risk for sexual assault, compared with non-disabled peers and they have more difficulty than typically developing peers reporting their experiences (Hershkowitz et al., 2007); prosecuting those who target them, sends a message to all potential perpetrators. Yet, because many cases of CSA do not reach the stage of criminal prosecution, our fourth call is for a broadened focus on validating, integrating, recovering from, and preventing CSA. We have evidence-based treatment programs that should be accessed for every child victim of CSA.
Our fifth area for future research and practice is Cheit’s call for multisite research on the occurrence of CSA allegations in day care settings. We actually think the national data should be archived much like the national data sets on abuse and neglect housed at Cornell. This would allow researchers to investigate the correlates and consequences of day care CSA cases.
Last, and perhaps most importantly, we believe there should be an expanded effort to educate the public and potential jury pool about the nuances of CSA prosecution and presentation as well as what works (and does not work) to keep children and communities safe. We call on our professional organizations to lead this endeavor that would include (a) proactively providing spokespersons to hypothetically explain issues that would emerge in high-profile cases, (b) eagerly responding with amicus briefs in an attempt to always educate the judiciary and the public, and (c) consistently making an effort to position stories with media outlets that responsibly represent themes related to CSA. We have come a long way from the 1980s when such a response might have been out of the question. The advances we list on Table 1 should help us feel confident about taking this on. We owe a considerable debt to Cheit for taking on this detailed research project and we are grateful for his analysis of the WHN. We hope that others will pick up where Cheit left off so that CSA victims continue to have a growing body of evidence to strengthen their cases.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
