Criminology,gender and security in the Australian context: Making women’s lives matter

Abstract

This article examines how it might be possible to make women’s lives matter in contemporary criminological understandings of security. In doing so it considers the conceptual complexity of security, and reflects on the criminological engagement with that complexity and the feminist contribution to it paying particular attention to current concerns with everyday security. The article deploys the contemporary Australian policy agenda on family violence to illustrate the paradoxes to be found within these current pre-occupations. Drawing on feminist informed work that situates violence against women within the conceptual framework of everyday terrorism, it concludes by offering further consideration to the meaning of everyday security and the implications that this has for contemporary criminological concerns with security.

Keywords

Everyday security everyday terrorism family violence security

Introduction

In this article we seek to develop a criminological understanding of issues associated with ‘everyday’ security urged by Crawford and Hutchinson (2016). In so doing we do not wish to challenge the conclusion proffered by them or to undermine their acknowledgement of the already existing feminist informed interventions on these issues. Rather, the exploration offered here focuses on how criminology might address everyday security practices and associated institutional practices if the question of gender was put at the centre of this particular agenda. In order to advance this argument, this article falls into four parts. The first considers the conceptual complexity of security, and applies a gendered lens to the security terrain. The second reflects on extant criminological engagement with security and associated feminist interventions. The third section draws out the paradoxes evident in this discussion using the contemporary tensions and contradictions of the Australian policy agenda on ‘security’ comparing and contrasting responses to intimate partner violence and public terrorism as illustration. The final part of this article posits some new aspects in considering ‘everyday security’ and the consequent implications these raise for contemporary criminology.

Thinking about security

It is without doubt that the concept of security has become a key focus of the 21st century. As Crawford (2014) argues, the capacity of this concept reflects both paradoxical and precarious features where the search for greater security can also result in the opposite effect: heightened insecurity (see also Mythen and Walklate, 2016). Moreover it is well recognized that the study of security has, to date, been dominated by those concerned with international relations: a pre-occupation with security as a ‘big noun’. Within international relations the area of work labelled ‘critical security studies’ and its associated schools of thought (Copenhagen, Aberystwyth and Paris), has been significant in defining security and/or the processes of securitization. Such dominance notwithstanding, other disciplinary perspectives offer equally fertile ground for thinking about security. In reviewing the potential for cross-disciplinary dialogue, Bourbeau (2015) points out that security is not simply nor straightforwardly a ‘mode of governing’ (Neocleous, 2008: 4). His edited collection imagines security in diverse ways: as being thick or thin, objective or subjective, strong or weak, always in the making (processual), operating at different levels and with different degrees of intensity. As Zedner (2009) acutely observed ‘security’ is a promiscuous concept. Indeed others have labelled security as ‘sticky’ (Fanghanel, 2014), ‘scalar’ (Valverde, 2014) and ‘polysemic’ (Ranasinghe, 2013). Thus, as Mythen and Walklate (2016: 1110) comment:

it is easy to conclude that such a multifaceted and multidimensional concept existing at the nexus of criminology, sociology and international relations can mean a range of different things depending upon the disciplinary microscope being used. As a concept, security has undoubtedly been stretched.

Within criminology, security has tended to be discussed in terms of a zero-sum game—something that somebody has at someone else’s expense (see inter alia, Hudson and Ugelvik, 2012). Thus it is evident that security is incalculable, inherently precarious and certainly not a ‘one size fits all’ conceptual tool (Bourbeau, 2015). Yet, despite this complexity and ‘stretchiness’ there has been a remarkable consistency in all of this work in presuming security to be a ‘big noun’: a collective or at least a ‘club’ good (Hope, 2000). However, as Crawford and Hutchinson (2016) argue security is also an everyday phenomenon: a ‘small noun’. It is within our everyday practices that we manage our ontological security ensuring our minds do not become factories of fear (Tillich, 1952).

Following the view of Crawford and Hutchinson (2016) we too argue there has been a remarkable lack of appreciation of the everyday nature of security and particularly of its gendered nature within contemporary criminology. Here, as elsewhere, pre-occupations have been with security as a big noun. In the context of international relations, Robinson (2011: 61) has commented on the ‘reliance on the “ungendered” human being as the primary referent of human security’: a reliance that is connected to the ‘rights-based normative framework on which human security relies’. This human rights framework pervades discussions of security from policy directives through to the disciplinary domain assumptions challenged by Robinson. The presence of feminist security studies within international relations notwithstanding (see True, 2012), the relative invisibility of gendered analyses is telling. Following Renzetti (2013: 7) we take gender to refer to the socially constructed expectations associated with masculinity and femininity and in what follows it is possible to discern similarly ungendered domain assumptions within criminological understandings of, and engagement with, the concept of security.

Criminology and security

In an interesting and provocative analysis of criminology and security, Froestad et al. (2015) suggest security has always been the central focus of the discipline. Through an historical analysis they argue that security, understood in the Hobbesian sense as a freedom from the ‘war of all against all’, underpins a core disciplinary concern with ‘freedom from interpersonal harms’ (2015: 177). The manifestations of this central pre-occupation have varied. According to their analysis, the discipline has shifted from primarily a ‘crime-ology’ towards a ‘risk-ology’ and is potentially morphing to a ‘securit-ology’ (2015: 187). At the centre of all of these shifts however is security, understood as freedom from interpersonal harms. While not adjudicating on the validity of this overview of the discipline, this framing offers a valuable entry point into considering the criminological embrace (or otherwise) of security in the context of our argument.

Froestad et al. (2015) argue that the ‘hitting and taking’ crime focus of criminology has led the discipline to ask ‘what is to be done?’ about crime. This question has been framed through a number of different theoretical and methodological tendencies, conventionally distinguished by the labels positivist, radical and critical. Each of these tendencies offer different understandings of what is included and/or excluded in ‘hitting and taking’; these move from those events which occur between individuals, to those which are perpetrated by states on individuals, to those that are perpetrated between states. While ‘hitting and taking’ cannot encompass the whole of the criminological project, it is of value in centring our consideration of women’s everyday (in)security, particularly in terms of family violence. Since it is predominantly, though not exclusively, women who experience this form of violence (where ‘hitting and taking’ can be taken to denote not only physical actions but also the denial of freedom and independence outside of her relationship), mostly at the hands of men.

Each of the theoretical or methodological tendencies referred to above argue for different interventions into such ‘hitting and taking’. For the most part this cumulative work has led to the disciplinary pre-occupation with the management (read prevention) of crime and the role of institutional actors in those management processes. Both of these pre-occupations have, until very recently, been based on contemporaneous knowledge about crime. However, as it became increasingly clear in political and policy domains that little could be done to prevent crime, at least in relation to what governments considered affordable and achievable in the relatively short time frame of a political term, criminological and policy attention moved away from crime prevention to victimization prevention (Karmen, 1990). This shift was in part informed by a recognition and awareness of the impact of crime, rather than crime itself, grounded in criminal victimization surveys. This work relocated ‘hitting and taking’ in terms of security, not so much on the basis of what had happened, but as a feature of the risks of harm that might happen: what people worried about. While openly critiqued (see inter alia O’Malley, 2006; Walklate, 1997), this ‘dispositif’ of risk (Aradau and Munster, 2008) embedded in the criminal victimization survey, reveals the discipline shifting its gaze from ‘its traditional backward looking approach to a more forward looking, pre-emptive approach that seeks to mitigate harms before they occur’ (Froestad et al., 2015: 183; see also McCulloch and Wilson, 2016; Mythen and Walklate, 2008). This shift was given added impetus as ‘new’ insecurities (in particular, in the form of the threat from terrorism) replaced ‘old’ ones (McCulloch and Pickering, 2009).

For the purposes of this discussion the presumed transgressive nature of terrorism is central in unpacking taken for granted understandings of, and illuminating, understandings of the everyday aspects of security. It has been suggested that 9/11 became the motif for capturing feelings around the way in which the world had changed (Woods, 2011; Worcester, 2001); a motif that has become emblematic of the risks and insecurities of the modern world (Howie, 2012). The exposure of western-centric states to vulnerabilities previously assumed to occur in other geographical locations certainly challenged blinkered criminological thinking around ‘who and where is the “subject at risk” and who, and where is, the “risky subject”’ (Aas, 2012: 12). At this juncture, interpretations of ‘hitting and taking’ are necessarily expanded and reimagined. They move beyond what is doable and actionable, and can, and do, have real consequences for what is understood as security and what might constitute security informed interventions (see McCulloch and Wilson, 2016; Walklate and Mythen, 2015).

A common vanishing point in the shifts overviewed above is the question of gender. As Kruttschnitt (2016) has observed there is still a good deal of work to be done in understanding the place of gender in much criminological endeavour. This is still an elusive variable for the discipline despite the well-evidenced presence of feminist informed, and other work on gender in the discipline (see inter alia Barberet, 2014: Belknap, 2015; Walklate, 2004) Building on that gender informed work, key questions might be: what would a security agenda that took gender seriously look like? How might it be possible to make women’s lives matter in criminological understandings of security?

Thinking about gender and the everyday

Some time ago Smith (1988) made a robust case for the need to study the everyday world. Indeed much feminist informed work in and around ‘hitting and taking’ took the nature of women’s quotidian lives and the crimes they experienced everyday as their central focus. As acknowledged earlier, Crawford and Hutchinson (2016: 1185) cite this feminist work in making their case for a more centred consideration of ‘security experiences: the lived realities of practical security measures, including the diverse ways in which programmes, strategies and techniques for governing security are experienced, taken up, resisted, and even augmented by different individuals and groups within society’. Arguably this needs further development.

Feminist work has long been concerned with the ‘hitting and taking’ that men direct at women. Voices from Power Cobbe (1878) to Russell and Rebecca Dobash (1980), to Genn (1988), Morgan (1989) and Pain (2012) as well as many others, confront the presumed safe haven of the ‘home’ as central in ‘security experiences’. The routine, everyday violence experienced by women in private as well as public, was aptly expressed by Genn (1988: 95) as ‘just part of life’ with the fears generated by these ‘security experiences’ constituting, in Stanko’s (1997) terms, a ‘technology of the soul’ (see also Campbell, 2005). Kelly (1988) introduced the concept of a ‘continuum of sexual violence’ to illuminate the realities of women’s everyday experiences of violence. This concept was rooted in listening to women’s voices about sexual violence and its impact. It placed experiences from ‘flashing’ to murder, in public and in private, from single offences to multiple offences, from sole offenders to multiple offenders, on the same conceptual plane: a continuum of everyday sexual violence (see also Fitz-Gibbon and Walklate, 2016). This was violence as experienced by women over time. This kind of ‘hitting and taking’ becomes ‘folded into everyday life’—in which ‘ordinary people become scarred’ (Das, 2007: 14). It is this kind of violence that is often silenced: in the bedroom, on the street, in a children’s home; in a prison, on a continent (Jordan, 2011). These feminist interventions fundamentally challenged, and continue to challenge, conventional thinking about what constitutes security as a feature of everyday life, particularly for women but also under some conditions for men too (see Stanko, 1990).

So the knowledge generated by feminist informed work posed, and continues to pose, a serious challenge to those who might, for example, see the choice to stay in a violent relationship as irrational when evidence indicates that the point of separation, as women often know, is one of the most dangerous (see DeKeseredy and Rennison, 2013; Mahoney, 1991). The ways in which these experiences translate themselves into everyday practices are both transcendent and culturally/geographically specific. For example, Lucashenko (1996) outlines how Australian indigenous women reject notions of ‘traditional’ law that support or allow violence against women. Shalhoub-Kevorkian (2015: 1202) documents how birthing mothers in Palestine

find new ways to subvert colonial oppression and become more visible agents of liberation. These include breaking cultural taboos like unveiling, borrowing ID cards, driving without a licence, all whilst in pain, to enable them to cross borders and give birth safely.

In a similar vein Listerborn (2015) highlights how women, even in extreme conditions of othering while wearing the veil, find ways to negotiate and sustain their everyday lives as securely as they can. As Pain (2012: 6) reminds us, ‘Keeping another person in a state of chronic fear does not require physical violence to be used all of the time, or at all.’ Intimate knowledge of another person is sufficient. This body of work speaks volumes about the everyday security practices and experiences of women, as they negotiate the presence of violence in their lives. Even these few examples of feminist informed work on everyday security more than adequately illustrate the multi-facetted and multi-layered nature of security and its everyday manifestation, when a gendered lens is utilized. This gendered focus on the everyday practices of security reveals the nature of lives as they are actually lived and, following Crawford and Hutchinson (2016), demands a (re)consideration of the institutional practices that can shape and determine those lives (see also Smith, 1988).

Institutional responses to the increased visibility of an everyday gendered sense of security have been reflected in the changing orientations of the discipline of criminology. Thus the discipline has moved seamlessly from criminalization through to risk assessment in contributing to responses to everyday security as articulated in terms of violence(s) against women (and men). Arguably such shifts have been driven as much by the desire to be seen to be doing something (Walklate, 2008) as they have paid due regard to whether or not that something actually matched with women’s real lives (Walklate and Mythen, 2011) or whether or not such responses were appropriate to the aim of mitigating risk (Goodmark, 2012). Indeed, the pace with which such responses to violence against women have travelled the globe without difficulty (Goodmark, 2015) is quite remarkable. Yet many, if not all, of those responses continue to be flawed. For example, despite two recent Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Constabulary (HMIC) reports in relation to domestic violence in the UK (Everyone’s business, 2014; Increasingly everyone’s business, 2015) police responses to domestic violence in England and Wales continue to generate criticism. Moreover in the UK and elsewhere, domestic homicide statistics have remained stable or even increased over the last 30 years (see, for example, Cussen and Bryant, 2015 in Australia; Smith et al., 2014 in the United States), These issues are intractable, Mooney (2007: 169) suggests, because of the values that sustain men’s violence against women (or for that matter against each other) which ‘exist throughout the width and breadth of popular culture’ (see also Winlow and Hall, 2006). These processes are compounded for those (women) subjected to additional intervention and closer scrutiny as security threats themselves in the post-9/11 era (see inter alia Listerborn, 2015). Thus policy responses to the gendered nature of everyday security are contradictory in the ways that they shape everyday lives.

There is, however, an interesting paradox to be found here. Without doubt a good deal of institutional resource (as in policing in the UK for example) appears to have been devoted to responding to efforts to take violence against women seriously. Yet simultaneously these efforts have had little impact on the outcome of such behaviours in terms of the number of women (as well as children and men) killed each year as a result of family violence. At the same time, even more institutional resource appears to be devoted to everyday practices of security in relation to terror threats even though that threat and its outcomes result in significantly fewer deaths year on year. Details of the comparative financial resources devoted to addressing terrorism and family violence are set out below. In this paradox it is easy to discern the tensions between feminist informed understandings of everyday security and state centric understandings of public (read national) security: security as a ‘little noun’ versus security as a ‘big noun’. In what follows we shall draw on recent interventions in Australia to illustrate these tensions and by implication make the case for pushing the boundaries of how everyday security might be differently conceived to better account for the gendered reality of women’s lives. Our purpose in comparing the different approach taken to family violence and terrorism is in no way intended to suggest support for the type of counter terrorism measures that have been implemented to be introduced in the family violence space. Such measures are convincingly critiqued as contrary to human rights and an imposition on the security of many vulnerable groups (see, for example, McCulloch and Pickering, 2009). Our purpose is instead to highlight the relative inattention to the everyday insecurity of women’s lives embedded in such responses and to encourage some different thinking on this matter.

Gender and everyday security: The Australian context

Since the 2001 attacks on New York and Washington, countering global terrorism has become a major focus of government policy and security agency activity in a wide range of jurisdictions. This so-called ‘new terrorism’ (Neumann, 2009) has been constructed as the pre-eminent threat to global security. Western countries use the rhetoric of ‘terrorism as our main security problem’ and as the ‘master signifier’ of other security threats (Buzan and Weaver, 2009: 274). This threat now sits at the centre of the West’s ‘risk portfolio’ (Ericson, 2006: 347), read security portfolio. Consequently, security intelligence agencies and law enforcement bodies have gained expanded powers and vast resources to counter the terrorism threat (Amoore and De Goede, 2008; Walklate and Mythen, 2015). Former Australian Prime Minister Tony Abbott (2015) rated terrorism as Australia’s major national security threat. He warned that ISIS (Islamic State in Iraq and Syria) was ‘coming for every person and every government with a simple message, submit or die’ (cited in Van Onselen, 2015). Yet, in real terms, what does this threat actually comprise?

The Global Terrorism Index (2014) reports that, between 2000 and 2013, 82 per cent of all deaths from terrorism occurred in just five countries (Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Nigeria and Syria). That same index, in assessing the risk from terrorism in all 192 countries surveyed, placed Iraq at the top with a risk factor of 10, with Australia in 124th place with a risk factor of 0.41. Outside of the first 10 countries in this list, fewer than 50 people across all these countries die per year in terrorist activity. In stark contrast, each week in Australia at least one woman is killed by a man, typically an intimate (ex)partner (Cussen and Bryant, 2015). Yet terrorism is identified as a critical threat and remains the pre-eminent national security priority in Australia.

The contradictions posed by the level of attention accorded to terrorism as a matter of national security and the toleration of everyday gendered insecurities were piqued in December 2014 following the Lindt café siege in Sydney, which resulted in three deaths (including that of the perpetrator). Following the siege, a family violence advocate pointed out that the perpetrator, Man Horan Monis, was on bail for being an accessory to the murder of his ex-wife, and had also been charged with more than 40 counts of sexual and indecent assault at the time of the siege (Davey, 2014). Yet this offender’s history of gendered crimes was trumped by the fact that he was a Muslim brandishing an ISIS flag. This meant that official responses to the siege focused on national security linked to terrorism and its association with the foreign ‘other’ rather than on issues of family violence. The links between being a perpetrator and/or having experienced family violence and terrorism have also been evidenced, for example, in the cases of Khalis Masood (London, March 2017), Mohamed Lahouaiej-Bouhlel (Nice, July 2016) and Dylann Roof (Charleston, 2014) (Freeman, 2017).

The kind of contradiction that these interconnections raise are further illustrated in the resources allocated to each of these risks/threats. In line with other recent national budgets the most recent Australian federal budget allocated only $100 million to family violence, compared to $30 billion for national security, with the promise of ‘keeping Australians safe’ (Fitz-Gibbon et al., 2016). In addition to a lack of funding in recent budgets, the Federal Government has also forecast significant resource cuts to nationally funded legal services, including community legal centres which are often relied upon by persons experiencing family violence (Fitz-Gibbon et al., 2017). While several relevant portfolio areas are covered in budgets at the state and territory level, the underinvestment at the federal level further demonstrates the de-prioritization of family violence as a national concern. While tens of billions of dollars are spent on countering terrorism and other issues deemed to be national security threats, services aimed at preventing family violence and supporting victims and survivors, remain under severe strain and in some cases have been subject to cuts (Lee and Cook, 2014).

Of course, in Australia as elsewhere, in this era of neo-liberalism in which political leaders increasingly embrace law and order and security as the primary platform on which to stage political authority (Wacquant, 2009), questions of national security have become a form of politics linked to threatening ‘outsiders’ or ‘others’. These politics offer a means of expressing resentment of ‘the response to risks posed by people we do not associate ourselves with’ (Hudson, 2003: 59). Indeed, post-2001 terrorism and irregular migration, both associated with minorities, are issues that have been manipulated to arouse fear and resentment among voters (McCulloch, 2004). A focus on the risk of family violence as a national security problem would not lend itself so readily to the politics of fear, resentment and prejudice, because the perpetrators of family violence, men from all strata of society, are not a minority that can readily be constructed as ‘outsiders’ or ‘the other’. Thus the mutually supporting discourses and actions of media, politicians and security experts invoking security as a ‘big noun’ to be strictly managed and controlled is underpinned by an agenda that is not only highly political but also gendered. The everyday insecurities that impact most substantially on women are hidden or distorted, excluding women’s experiences of violence from mainstream knowledges of risk and everyday security (Walklate, 1997). Thus global terrorism has been selected as the major security issue, despite the reality that many more lives are lost as a result of family violence. One study in Victoria (Australia), for example, found that family violence was the leading preventable contributor to death, disability and illness in women aged 15–44 years old, being responsible for more of the disease burden than many well-known risk factors such as high blood pressure, smoking and obesity (VicHealth, 2004). This high health and social toll was reconfirmed by a recent national study (Ayre et al., 2016). Moreover, between 2002/2003 and 2011/2012 in Australia nationally 488 women were killed in homicides where offenders were current or former partners (married, de facto, or boyfriends) (Cussen and Bryant, 2015).

The disparate figures on intimate partner homicide and terrorism fatalities cited above indicate that more than twice as many women are killed each year in Australia in partner homicides than people killed in Australia as a result of terrorism since 2001. Keane (2014), using Australian Bureau of Statistics and Australian Institute of Criminology data, concludes that there have been 113 terrorism fatalities since 1978, including Australians killed in overseas attacks and foreign nationals killed in Australia. Thus, while the fatalities and injuries from family violence far outweigh those from terrorism, the disparate distribution of resources to terrorism as a national security concern and family violence has remained relatively unchallenged despite the contradictory evidence about deaths cited above and increasing activity directed at family violence in the policy domain. However, in the last two years there has been significant review and law reform activity focused on improving responses to family violence across Australian state and territories.

In Victoria, a Royal Commission into Family Violence (RCFV) was commissioned in 2015 and reported in 2016 with 227 recommendations (RCFV, 2016). Additionally in 2015 the state of Queensland published the findings of a special taskforce into family violence with 140 recommendations for reform (Special Taskforce on Domestic and Family Violence, 2015), while Tasmania has established a Family Violence Cabinet Committee to oversee family violence reforms in that state (Hodgman, 2015). There are similar examples of review and reform activity to be found in each Australian state and at the national level. Yet, all of this activity notwithstanding, family violence continues to be dealt with largely in the traditional post-crime frame. This approach means that family violence typically needs to have occurred or the threat of such violence needs to be demonstrated before coercive criminal justice or civil law interventions can take place. This is quite unlike the case with terrorism. Comparing civil intervention and control orders across the two spheres captures the disjunction in the law’s precautionary response to terrorism versus the post-crime approach to family violence.

While the extant family violence legal framework provides measures in the form of civil intervention orders aimed at preventing future family violence, such measures only come into play after evidence of threat in the form of prior completed acts of family violence and/or overt threats of such abuse (see, for example, Victorian Sentencing Advisory Council, 2009). Typically there needs to be repeated acts of family violence before criminal and/or civil sanctions are applied to the perpetrator. In contrast civil control orders in the counter terrorism arena are pre-emptive, in that they are purely forward looking and so can be imposed before a threat has emerged. The assessments that underpin the imposition of a control order are not based on evidence of prior offences or threatening acts but instead on what the respondent might do in the future (Donkin, 2014). While intervention orders in the family violence arena are aimed at preventing further offending behaviour, terrorism control orders are primarily aimed at ensuring there is no opportunity to offend in the first instance. In addition, terrorism control order restrictions are typically far more onerous than family violence civil orders and may include curfews or severely restrict internet or telephone access. A person subject to a control order is so closely monitored and incapacitated through restrictive conditions that they have little or no capacity or opportunity to commit an offence. In the family violence sphere, however, perpetrators frequently fail to comply with preventive measures, such as civil intervention orders, and authorities sometimes ignore or are slow to respond to breaches and ongoing serious threats (Butt and Vedelago, 2014; Morris, 2015).

The contrast in tolerance for breaches is also stark. A single technical breach of a terrorism-related control order involving no threat is likely to result in rapid charge, a return to court and a high likelihood of remand in maximum security conditions as a result of the alleged breach (Hall, 2015). In the terrorism context measures are geared to ensure that there is no first opportunity to offend. In the family violence context, however, perpetrators have many opportunities to repeat offending behaviour. One recent Victorian case involved more than 2000 breaches of such an order, including text messages threatening to kill and assault (Cooper, 2015). Other reported cases demonstrate police tolerance of multiple breaches of intervention orders, allowing serial familial abusers to continue with threats and escalating violence (Butt and Vedelago, 2014; Thomas, 2013). Moreover, even where sanctions are imposed for intervention order breaches, imprisonment occurs only in a minority of cases (Butt and Vedelago, 2014; Douglas, 2008; Himmelreich, 2014; Victorian Sentencing Advisory Council, 2009; Western Australian Department of the Attorney General, 2008). If a person is convicted of a breach of an intervention order the penalty is unlikely to diminish the abuser’s immediate capacity to reoffend to any significant extent. Such outcomes occur despite the existence of legislation in each Australian state and territory jurisdiction permitting a breach of an intervention order to be punished with a term of imprisonment ranging from one year in Queensland and Tasmania to five years in the Australian Capital Territory (ALRC, 2010). A recent Australian study reinforced that family violence offences were less likely than other comparable offences to result in imprisonment and when a prison sentence was imposed domestic violence offenders received significantly shorter prison sentences than other offenders (Bond and Jeffries, 2014).

Further disparity arises at the point of sentencing: in the case of terrorist-related offences (even where no substantive crime has been committed) those found guilty are very likely to be sentenced to lengthy periods of imprisonment. The sentences handed out to those who have committed numerous acts of family violence are far more lenient (McGarrity, 2013). Moreover, the sentencing remarks in terrorism cases generally underline the deviant ideology motivating anticipated acts of terrorism and judges frequently refer to this ideology as justifying incapacitation through long periods of imprisonment (De Goede and De Graaf, 2013; Scanlon, 2013; Sentas, 2014). In the case of violent gendered crime, an underlying ideology of hatred and disrespect for women is rarely referenced in order to highlight the danger posed by the offender to women or to support lengthy jail sentences (see, for example, Maher et al., 2015). In many family violence homicides where women are the victims, the trial narratives focus on the relationship between the deceased and the perpetrator as well as the actions of the female victim rather than the culpability of the male offender (Fitz-Gibbon, 2014; Fitz-Gibbon and Maher, 2015). Even where the killing of women in intimate partner homicides is preceded by histories of family violence, as is often the case, research suggests the perpetrator’s final lethal act of violence is frequently characterized in legal proceedings as ‘out of character’ (Domestic Violence Resource Centre Victoria, 2016). This characterization stands in direct contrast to the clear condemnation that persons convicted of terrorism-related threats, even in the absence of any actual deaths, receive at each point of the criminal justice system.

Finally, there are no security intelligence agency resources directed at identifying potential family violence offenders or laws that criminalize the associations, networks and ideologies that support violence against women generally and family violence in particular. There is no mechanism that criminalizes acts that are considered to have been taken in preparation towards committing acts of family violence (see above). There are, however, vast resources devoted to watching and monitoring those thought to adhere to dangerous ideologies which might possibly lead to involvement in future acts of terrorism (see McCulloch and Wilson, 2016: ch. 6). Again, it is not our purpose here to support such approaches: as many have argued, the growth of such surveillance poses significant threats to civil liberties and to marginalized communities (see, for example, Pantazis and Pemberton, 2009). However, given the nature, extent and impact of family violence, well documented in the literature and evidenced in the discussion above, the lack of serious commitment to addressing and preventing family violence at the national level is apparent.¹ Research has long indicated that homicides perpetrated within the domestic sphere are the most preventable given the histories of domestic abuse and presence of known risks that usually precede the act of intimate homicide (Bugeja et al., 2013; Dearden and Jones, 2008; VicHealth, 2004; Virueda and Payne, 2010; Websdale, 1999). In Victoria, this finding has been supported by the outcomes of several recent Coroner’s Court Inquests into the deaths of women killed by a current or former intimate partner, which have revealed protracted histories of intimate partner violence and multiple interactions with various levels of the justice system prior to each victim’s death (for example, the Inquest into the death of Kelly Ann Thompson, see Gray, 2016).

To summarize, although there is clear evidence that the risk of death and harm from family violence is higher than the risk from terrorism, Australian governments at state and federal level, in common with most developed western state jurisdictions, prioritize the security threat posed by terrorism rather than the ‘everyday terrorism’ of family violence (Pain, 2012). The systematic failure to vigorously police and substantively punish breaches of civil intervention orders as well as the relatively lenient sentences for family violence offences reveal that, even post-offence, the serious security threats and risks of family violence are at worst tolerated and at best reluctantly addressed. This is not to suggest that the ‘solution’ to family violence is more policing or harsher punishments. Indeed, women in minority communities are likely to be disadvantaged by such responses (see, for example, Blagg, 2008: 136–152). The point is to highlight, through the prism of criminal justice responses, the relative tolerance of the risk of family violence as compared to terrorism and the undervaluing of women’s security.

Yet the capacity to think and act differently is increasingly evident in Australian national discourses. Interestingly, Rosie Batty (a family violence survivor and 2015 Australian of the Year) argued for more resources to combat family violence citing the prevalence of ‘family violence terrorism’ (Knott, 2015). Batty’s conjoining of terrorism with family violence added her voice to those in the Australian context, who were citing family violence as a serious social problem that should be viewed as a national security issue (see inter alia Johnson, 2008; Malone and Phillips, 2014; Perkins, 2014). Given the figures cited above, the argument appears self-evident, yet it is not accepted as such. Batty’s call connects to a history of feminist work from Frances Power Cobbe’s (1878) powerful essay on ‘Wife torture in England’ through to Johnson’s (1995, 2008) foundational work on ‘intimate terrorism’ to the more recent interventions of Pain (2012) on the ‘everyday terrorism’ of domestic abuse. These connections, while contested within academic and policy discourses are at the same time clear and persuasive. We have the knowledge and capacity to see and understand existing everyday gendered insecurities but as yet they have not been framed either within criminology or criminal justice policy as a critical security threat.

Conclusion: The terrorism of the everyday

Framing violence against women within the language of war and terrorism, as the writers cited above have, encapsulates the realities of many everyday lives that make many criminologists, policy-makers and politicians uncomfortable. Such framing is certainly contested. Yet we would argue that it is at the level of the everyday that the intersections of security as a ‘big noun’ and a ‘little noun’ are to be found and comprehended. As Walklate and Mythen (2008) argue if we fail to make these connections, how is it possible to know how scared we are or what in fact we might be afraid of? Indeed, the reality of living with the everyday violence:

terrorises people who are abused, and their children […] domestic abuse, and the corrosive effects of the fears of those who suffer it, are not simply an issue of individual or family conflict—they relate to, and is sustained by, social inequalities at the level of society.

(Pain, 2012: 8)

Within these ‘real lives’, fears generated by everyday gendered violence(s) permeate families, neighbours and communities. They impact differently and differentially on men and women but they cannot be set at a distance as global terrorism perpetrators can. They cannot be ‘othered’ since they are more often than not fathers, brothers, uncles as well as acquaintances. Sometimes, albeit to a significantly lesser extent, they are also women.

Understanding the nature and impact of violence against women as everyday terrorism puts the violence(s) associated with everyday security in the same critical frame as the violence(s) associated with national security. Once this is done two issues emerge with clarity. First, this framing asks hard questions about whose security counts, under what conditions and why. Second the shaky conceptual foundations, on which understandings of security within criminology in particular have been built, are laid bare. These foundations have largely presumed that security is ungendered and rather like its brother term ‘risk’, that it is unitary and uniform in its capacity to make sense of the world. The realities of women’s lives challenge these foundations. Women navigate their world with necessary attention to security as a big noun and a little noun, from the mundanity of the footsteps behind her (Morgan, 1989) to the complexities of surveillance in Palestine (Shalhoub-Kevorkian, 2015), never smoothly or uniformly, but knowledgeably. These are ‘the ways in which people manage to live confidently with risk and negotiate their safety in interactions with others’ (Crawford and Hutchinson, 2016: 1199). We know this already. Criminology knows this already. The question remains as to how we can make others, including others in the discipline, listen.

Footnotes

Conflict of interest

The authors declare that there is no conflict of interest.

Funding

This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial or not-for-profit sectors.

Notes

Author biographies

Sandra Walklate is Eleanor Rathbone Chair of Sociology at University of Liverpool, UK and conjoint Chair of Criminology, Monash University, Melbourne.

Jude McCulloch is Professor of Criminology, School of Social Sciences, Monash University, Melbourne.

Kate Fitz-Gibbon is Senior Lecturer in Criminology, School of Social Sciences, Monash University, Melbourne.

JaneMaree Maher is a Professor in the Centre for Women’s Studies and Gender Research, School of Social Sciences, Monash University, Melbourne.

References

Aas

(2012) The earth is one, but the world is not: Criminological theory and its geopolitical divisions. Theoretical Criminology 16(1): 5–20.

Abbott

(2015) Stronger counter-terrorism arrangements. Media Release, 25 May. Available at: http://www.liberal.org.au/latest-news/2015/05/25/stronger-counter-terrorism-arrangements (accessed 8 November 2015).

Amoore

De Goede

(eds) (2008) Risk and the War on Terror. London: Routledge.

Aradau

Munster

(2008) Governing terrorism through risk: Taking precautions (un)knowing the future. European Journal of International Relations 13(1): 89–115.

Australian Law Reform Commission (ALRC) (2010) Family violence: A national legal response. Report 114. Canberra: Australian Government.

Ayre

Lum On

Webster

. (2016) Examination of the burden of disease of intimate partner violence against women in 2011: Final report. Sydney: ANROWS, c2016.

Barberet

(2014) Women, Crime and Criminal Justice. London: Routledge.

Belknap

(2015) The Invisible Woman: Gender, Crime and Justice. Stanford, CT: Cengage.

Blagg

(2008) Crime, Aboriginality and the Decolonisation of Justice. Sydney: Hawkins Press.

10.

Bond

Jeffries

(2014) Similar punishment? Comparing sentencing outcomes in domestic and non-domestic violence cases. British Journal of Criminology 54(5): 849–872.

11.

Bourbeau

(ed.) (2015) Security: Dialogue across Disciplines. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

12.

Bugeja

Butler

Buxton

. (2013) The implementation of domestic violence death reviews in Australia. Homicide Studies 17(4): 353–374.

13.

Butt

Vedelago

(2014) Free rein for serial abusers. The Age, 6 April, 1.

14.

Buzan

Weaver

(2009) Macrosecuritisation and security constellations: Reconsidering scale in securitisation theory. Review of International Studies 35(2): 253–276.

15.

Campbell

(2005) Keeping the ‘lady’ safe: The regulation of femininity through crime prevention literature. Critical Criminology 13: 119–140.

16.

Cooper

(2015) Former AFL star Nick Stevens faces jail for assaulting ex-girlfriend. The Age, 11 March. Available at: http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/former-afl-star-nick-stevens-faces-jail-for-assaulting-exgirlfriend-20150311–14169b.html (accessed 4 July 2016).

17.

Crawford

(2014) Thinking about sustainable security: Metaphors, paradoxes and ironies. In: Schuillenberg

Van Steden

Oude Brueil

(eds) Positive Criminology: Reflections on Care, Belonging and Security. The Hague: Eleven Publishing, 33–56.

18.

Crawford

Hutchinson

(2016) Mapping the contours of ‘everyday security’: Time, space, and emotion. British Journal of Criminology 56(6): 1184–1202.

19.

Cussen

Bryant

(2015) Domestic/family homicide in Australia. Research in Practice No. 38. Canberra: Australian Institute of Criminology.

20.

Das

(2007) Life and Words: Violence and the Descent into the Ordinary. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

21.

Davey

(2014) Man Haron Monis ‘would not have been on bail if domestic violence was taken as seriously as terrorism’. Guardian, 17 December. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2014/dec/17/man-haron-monis-bail-domestic-violence-taken-seriously-terrorism (accessed 4 July 2016).

22.

Dearden

Jones

(2008) Homicide in Australia: 2006–07 National Homicide Monitoring Program. Canberra: Australian Institute of Criminology.

23.

De Goede

De Graaf

(2013) Sentencing risk: Temporality and precaution in terrorism trials. International Political Sociology 7: 313–331.

24.

DeKeseredy

Rennison

(2013) Comparing female victims of separation/divorce assault across geographical regions. International Journal for Crime, Justice and Social Democracy 2(1): 65–81.

25.

Dobash

(1980) Violence against Wives. Shepton Mallett: Open Books.

26.

Domestic Violence Resource Centre Victoria (2016) Out of character? Legal responses to intimate partner homicide by men 2005–2014. Collingwood: Victoria Domestic Violence Resource Centre.

27.

Donkin

(2014) Preventing Terrorism and Controlling Risk. New York: Springer.

28.

Douglas

(2008) The criminal law’s response to domestic violence: What’s going on? Sydney Law Review 30: 440–469.

29.

Ericson

(2006) Ten uncertainties of risk-management approaches to security. Canadian Journal of Criminology and Criminal Justice 48(3): 345–356.

30.

Fanghanel

(2014) Approaching/departure: Effacement, erasure and ‘undoing’ the fear of crime. Cultural Geographies 21: 323–341.

31.

Fitz-Gibbon

(2014) Homicide Law Reform, Gender and the Provocation Defence: A Comparative Perspective. Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan.

32.

Fitz-Gibbon

Maher

(2015) Feminist challenges to the constraints of law: Donning uncomfortable robes? Feminist Legal Studies 23(3): 253–271.

33.

Fitz-Gibbon

Walklate

(eds) (2016) Homicide, Gender and Responsibility: An International Perspective. London: Routledge.

34.

Fitz-Gibbon

McCulloch

Maher

(2016) Little in budget to counter family violence. The Age, 5 May. Available at: http://www.theage.com.au/comment/little-in-budget-to-counter-family-violence-20160504-golqgn.html (accessed 12 June 2016).

35.

Fitz-Gibbon

Maher McCulloch

. (2017) Victoria leads the way on family violence but Canberra needs to lift its game. The Conversation, 30 March. Available at: https://theconversation.com/victoria-leads-the-way-on-family-violence-but-canberra-needs-to-lift-its-game-74036 (accessed 4 April 2017).

36.

Freeman

(2017) What do many lone attackers have in common? Domestic violence. Guardian, 28 March. Available at: www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/mar/28/lone-attackers-domestic-violence (accessed 29 March 2017).

37.

Froestad

Shearing

Van Der Merwe

(2015) Criminology: Reimagining security. In: Bourbeau

(ed.) Security: Dialogue across Disciplines. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 177–195.

38.

Genn

(1988) Multiple victimisation. In: Maguire

Pointing

(eds) Victims of Crime: A New Deal? Buckingham: Open University Press, 90–100.

39.

Global Terrorism Index (2014) Measuring and understanding the impact of terrorism. Institute for Economics and Peace. Available at: http://www.visionofhumanity.org/sites/default/files/Global%20Terrorism%20Index%20Report%202014_0.pdf (11 July 2016).

40.

Goodmark

(2012) A Troubled Marriage: Domestic Violence and the Legal System. New York: New York University Press.

41.

Goodmark

(2015) Exporting without a licence. In: Goodmark

Goel

(eds) Comparative Perspectives on Gender Violence: Lessons from Efforts Worldwide. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1–14.

42.

Gray

(2016) Findings into death with inquest of Kelly Ann Thompson. Coroner’s Court at Melbourne, 21 April. Available at: http://www.coronerscourt.vic.gov.au/resources/5ffa0a31–91fa-4e58-a0af-ce4a6c23d6f0/kellyannthompson_082414.pdf (accessed 11 July 2016).

43.

Hall

(2015) Terror suspect denied bail, will challenge control order ‘in first case of its kind’. Sydney Morning Herald, 12 February. Available at: http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/terror-suspect-denied-bail-will-challenge-control-order-in-first-case-of-its-kind-20150211-13ckyf.html (accessed 8 December 2016).

44.

Her Majesty Inspectorate Constabulary (HMIC) (2014) Everyone’s business: Improving the police response to domestic abuse. London: HMIC.

45.

Her Majesty Inspectorate Constabulary (HMIC) (2015) Increasingly everyone’s business: A progress report on the police response to domestic abuse. London: HMIC.

46.

Himmelreich

(2014) Hexham man fined $500 for breaching intervention order 43 times. Standard, 5 July. Available at: http://www.standard.net.au/story/2397175/hexham-man-fined-500-after-breaching-intervention-order-43-times/ (accessed 11 July 2016).

47.

Hodgman

(2015) The next steps in addressing family violence. Media Release, Tasmanian Government, 2 June. Available at: http://www.premier.tas.gov.au/releases/the_next_steps_in_addressing_family_violence (accessed 8 November 2015).

48.

Hope

(2000) Inequality and the clubbing of private security. In: Hope

Sparks

(eds) Crime, Risk and Insecurity. London: Routledge, 83–106.

49.

Howie

(2012) Witnesses to Terror. London: Palgrave-Macmillan.

50.

Hudson

(2003) Justice in the Risk Society. London: SAGE.

51.

Hudson

Ugelvik

(2012) Introduction: New landscapes of security and justice. In: Hudson

Ugelvik

(eds) Justice and Security in the 21st Century. London: Routledge, 1–5.

52.

Johnson

(1995) Patriarchal terrorism and common couple violence: Two forms of violence against women. Journal of Marriage and the Family 57(2): 283–294.

53.

Johnson

(2008) A Typology of Domestic Violence: Intimate Terrorism, Violent Resistance, and Situational Couple Violence. Boston, MA: Northeastern University Press.

54.

Jordan

(2011) Silencing rape, silencing women. In: Brown

Walklate

(eds) Handbook on Sexual Violence. London: Routledge, 253–286.

55.

Karmen

(1990) Crime Victims: Introduction to Victimology. Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks Cole.

56.

Keane

(2014) The real threat of terrorism to Australians, by the numbers. Crikey, 4 September. Available at: http://www.crikey.com.au/2014/09/04/the-real-threat-of-terrorism-to-australians-by-the-numbers/ (accessed 3 August 2015).

57.

Kelly

(1988) Surviving Sexual Violence. Oxford: Polity.

58.

Knott

(2015) Rosie Batty: Treat family violence as seriously as terrorism. Sydney Morning Herald, 3 June. Available at: http://www.smh.com.au/federal-politics/federal-election-2013/rosie-batty-treat-family-violence-as-seriously-as-terrorism-20150603-ghfya1.html (accessed 11 July 2016).

59.

Kruttschnitt

(2016) The politics, and place, of gender in research on crime. Criminology 54(1): 8–29.

60.

Lee

Cook

(2014) Domestic Violence Victoria calls for funds. The Age, 18 April. Available at: http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/domestic-violence-victoria-calls-for-funds-20140417–36uw8.html (accessed 11 July 2016).

61.

Listerborn

(2015) Geographies of the veil: Violent encounters in urban public spaces in Malmö, Sweden. Social & Cultural Geography 16(1): 95–115.

62.

Lucashenko

(1996) Violence against indigenous women: Public and private dimensions. Violence Against Women 2(4): 378–390.

63.

McCulloch

(2004) National (in)security politics in Australia. Alternative Law Journal 29(2): 87–91.

64.

McCulloch

Pickering

(2009) Pre-crime and counter-terrorism imagining future crime in the ‘war on terror’. British Journal of Criminology 49(5): 628–645.

65.

McCulloch

Wilson

(2016) Pre-Crime: Pre-Emption, Precaution and the Future. London: Routledge.

66.

McGarrity

(2013) Let the punishment match the offence: Determining sentences for Australian terrorists. International Journal for Crime and Justice 2(1): 18–34.

67.

Maher

McCulloch

Mason

(2015) Punishing gendered violence as hate crime: Aggravated sentences as a means of recognizing hate as motivation for violent crimes against women. Australian Feminist Law Journal 41(1): 177–193.

68.

Mahoney

(1991) Legal images of battered women: Redefining the issue of separation. Michigan Law Review 90(1): 1–94.

69.

Malone

Phillips

(2014) Domestic violence of epidemics proportions a ‘national emergency’: Campaign groups. ABC News, 6 May. Available at: http://www.abc.net.au/news/2014–05–05/domestic-violence-reaches-epidemic-proportions/5426214 (accessed 11 July 2016).

70.

Mooney

(2007) Shadow values, shadow figures: Real violence. Critical Criminology: An International Journal 15: 159–170.

71.

Morgan

(1989) The Demon Lover: On the Sexuality of Terrorism. New York: Norton Books.

72.

Morris

(2015) Court documents show thousands of domestic violence intervention orders being violated. ABC News, 2 April. Available at: http://www.abc.net.au/news/2015–04–02/domestic-violence-intervention-orders-being-violated/6369336 (accessed 11 July 2016).

73.

Mythen

Walklate

(2008) Terrorism, risk and international security: The perils of asking ‘what if’? Security Dialogue 39: 221–242.

74.

Mythen

Walklate

(2016) Counterterrorism and the reconstruction of (in) security: Divisions, dualisms, duplicities. British Journal of Criminology 56(6): 1107–1124.

75.

Neocleous

(2008) Critique of Security. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.

76.

Neumann

(2009) Old and New Terrorism, Vol. 4. Cambridge: Polity.

77.

O’Malley

(2006) Risk and criminology. In: Mythen

Walklate

(eds) Critical Reflections on Risk and Human Security: Towards a Holistic Approach. London: McGraw-Hill/Open University Press, 43–59.

78.

Our Watch (2016) Annual report 2015– 2016: Ending violence against women and their children. Available at: https://www.ourwatch.org.au/getmedia/1d7bad27–7314–4271–86e6-b31b40f7017b/OurWatch_Annual_Report_2016_AA.pdf.aspx (4 April 2017).

79.

Pain

(2012) Everyday terrorism: How fear works in domestic abuse. Durham: Centre for Social Justice and Community Action, Durham University and Scottish Women’s Aid.

80.

Pantazis

Pemberton

(2009) From the ‘old’ to the ‘new’ suspect community: Examining the impacts of recent UK counter-terrorist legislation. British Journal of Criminology 49(5): 646–666.

81.

Perkins

(2014) Family violence a form of ‘Intimate Terrorism’. Sydney Morning Herald, 5 October. Available at: http://www.smh.com.au/national/family-violence-a-form-of-intimate-terrorism-20141003–10ou6v.html (accessed 4 July 2016).

82.

Power Cobbe

(1878) Wife torture in England. The Contemporary Review 32: 55–87.

83.

Ranasinghe

(2013) Discourse, practice and the production of the polysemy of security. Theoretical Criminology 17(1): 89–109.

84.

Renzetti

(2013) Feminist Criminology. London: Routledge.

85.

Robinson

(2011) Ethics of Care: A Feminist Approach to Human Security. Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press.

86.

Royal Commission on Family Violence (RCFV) (2016) Summary and recommendations. Australia: RCFV, Government of Victoria.

87.

Scanlon

(2013) Punishing proximity: Sentencing preparatory terrorism in Australia and the United Kingdom. Current Issues in Criminal Justice 25(3): 763–783.

88.

Sentas

(2014) Traces of Terror: Counter-Terrorism Law, Policing and Race. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

89.

Shalhoub-Kevorkian

(2015) The politics of birth and the intimacies of violence against Palestinian women in occupied East Jerusalem. British Journal of Criminology 55(6): 1187–1206.

90.

Smith

(1988) The Everyday World as Problematic: A Feminist Sociology. Milton Keynes: Open University Press.

91.

Smith

Fowler

Niolon

(2014) Intimate partner homicide and corollary victims in 16 states: National violent death reporting system, 2003–2009. American Journal of Public Health 104(3): 461–466.

92.

Special Taskforce on Domestic and Family Violence (2015) Not now. Not ever. Australia: Government of Queensland.

93.

Stanko

(1990) Everyday Violence. London: Verso Books.

94.

Stanko

(1997) Safety talk: Conceptualising women’s risk assessment as a technology of the soul. Theoretical Criminology 1(4): 479–499.

95.

State of Victoria (2016) Safe and strong: A Victorian gender equality strategy. Victoria: Department of Premier and Cabinet. Available at: http://www.vic.gov.au/women/gender-equality/a-victorian-gender-equality-strategy.html (accessed 4 April 2017).

96.

Thomas

(2013) Intervention order breached 500 times, Warnambool court hears. Standard, 11 November. Available at: http://www.standard.net.au/story/1898741/intervention-order-breached-500-times-warrnambool-court-hears/ (accessed 11 July 2016).

97.

Tillich

(1952) The Courage to Be. Glasgow: Collins.

98.

True

(2012) The Political Economy of Violence against Women. New York: Oxford University Press.

99.

Valverde

(2014) Studying the governance of crime and security: Space, time and jurisdiction. Criminology and Criminal Justice 14(4): 379–391.

100.

Van Onselen

(2015) Scare tactics will go only so far. The Australian, 11–12 July. Available at: http://www.theaustralian.com.au/opinion/columnists/peter-van-onselen/tony-abbotts-scare-tactics-will-go-only-so-far/news-story/6305ae19aca178a1ef13baa0a5c7dd78 (accessed 4 July 2016).

101.

VicHealth (2004) The health cost of violence: Measuring the burden of disease caused by intimate partner violence. Victoria: Victorian Health Promotion Foundation.

102.

Victorian Sentencing Advisory Council (2009) Sentencing practices for breach of family violence intervention orders: Final report. Victoria: Victorian Sentencing Advisory Council.

103.

Virueda

Payne

(2010) Homicide in Australia: 2007–08 National Homicide Monitoring Program. Annual Report. Canberra: Australian Institute of Criminology.

104.

Wacquant

(2009) Punishing the Poor: The Neoliberal Government of Social Insecurity. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

105.

Walklate

(1997) Risk and criminal victimization: A modernist dilemma? British Journal of Criminology 37(1): 35–45.

106.

Walklate

(2004) Gender, Crime and Criminal Justice. Cullompton, Devon: Willan Publishing.

107.

Walklate

(2008) What is to be done about violence against women? Gender, violence, cosmopolitanism and the law. British Journal of Criminology 48(1): 39–54.

108.

Walklate

Mythen

(2008) How scared are we? British Journal of Criminology 48(2): 209–225.

109.

Walklate

Mythen

(2011) Risk beyond calculability and theory: Experiential knowledge and ‘knowing otherwise’. Criminology and Criminal Justice 11(2): 99–113.

110.

Walklate

Mythen

(2015) Contradictions of Terrorism: Security, Risk and Resilience. London: Routledge.

111.

Websdale

(1999) Understanding Domestic Homicide. Boston, MA: Northeastern University Press.

112.

Western Australia Department of the Attorney General (2008) A review of Part 2 Division 3A of the Restraining Orders Act 1997. Perth, Western Australia: Department of the Attorney General.

113.

Winlow

Hall

(2006) Violent Night: Urban Leisure and Contemporary Culture. London: Berg.

114.

Woods

(2011) The 9/11 effect: Towards a social science of terrorist threat. Social Science Journal 48: 213–233.

115.

Worcester

(2001) The world will never be the same again: British hopes and fears after September 11th 2001. International Journal of Public Opinion Research. Available at: www.mori.com (accessed 11 July 2016).

116.

Zedner

(2009) Security. London: Routledge.