Abstract
Drawing on a social constructionist paradigm, this article critically examines mass-mediated framing of the issue of child sexual exploitation online and via mobile communications technology. The Canadian Centre for Child Protection (C3P),1 a non-profit charity located in Winnipeg, Canada, is used as a case study of claims-making and the social construction of the social problem of child sexual exploitation online. The present study focuses on media engagement by C3P and its subsidiary CyberTip—Canada’s national internet tip line—between 2000 and 2011, just prior to CyberTip receiving legislative designation as Canada’s official reporting agency. The analysis draws on news media accounts of claims-making activities of C3P in three local and national Canadian newspapers. By focusing on the rhetoric of claims forwarded by the organization, I argue that C3P has been successful in gaining symbolic ownership of the issue and has been instrumental in defining the nature, extent, and appropriate responses to the problem of online child sexual exploitation in Canada. I conclude by considering the broader implications for criminal justice policy and practice.
Introduction
This article critically examines contemporary efforts to understand and address the issue of child sexual abuse and exploitation on the internet and via social media and mobile communications technologies. I present an exploratory case study of the Canadian Centre for Child Protection (C3P), a registered charitable organization headquartered in Winnipeg, Canada which operates several subsidiary entities including Cybertip.ca, Canada’s official national reporting ‘tip line’ for all matters related to online child pornography and child exploitation. Elaine Campbell (2016: 346) points out that “paedophilia opens up an expansive space for governance, and a diversification of the means and methods of responding to it.” Accordingly, C3P and Cybertip.ca operate at the nexus of public and private spheres and work by facilitating networks and partnerships between government, police, private corporations, and the general public. This typifies a “joined-up approach” to policing “encompassing a wide range of different bodies” (Jewkes and Andrews, 2005: 42–43). For Yar (2013), policing of the internet has “come to exemplify” the shift from “state-centric and top-down action to a more diversified array of activity that encompasses a range of quasi- and non-state actors” (Yar, 2013: 488). C3P operates in just such a fashion by facilitating networks of policing, surveillance, and control that link public and private bodies. In addition, C3P works out of view of the general public. Despite being given national ‘tip line’ status by Canadian Parliament in 2011, and despite receiving significant funding 2 from several Canadian provinces and territories and Canada’s federal government (Public Safety Canada, 2015), C3P remains uncoupled from the state and therefore resistant to researcher requests for information about most aspects of its operations.
Despite the invisibility of its daily operations, 3 C3P is highly skilled at crafting its public image and maintaining a media profile. Employing a staff of graphic artists, web designers and communications specialists, C3P cultivates its own mediated image just as it carefully constructs the social problem of child sexual exploitation through advertising campaigns; individual relationships with select journalists; and education programs for children, youth and parents (see for example Karaian, 2014, 2015). I argue that C3P’s veil of secrecy, coupled with its expertly crafted media strategy, have effectively positioned the organization as the symbolic ‘owner’ of the social problem of online child sexual exploitation and abuse. 4 As such, C3P has become “the authority to whom people turn” (Best, 1990: 12). Consequently, over the last decade C3P has shaped the way the issue is understood by the public, the government and Canadian law enforcement agencies, and has directed social policy in this area. The framing of the issue of child sexual abuse by C3P frequently draws on emotion and common myths about stranger danger (e.g. Kitzinger, 1999) to advocate for legal, social, and behavioral change. Utilizing the social constructionist paradigm, I critically analyze the way C3P framed and ultimately asserted ownership over the issue of online child sexual exploitation by examining claims-making in the local and national media. Analyzing the rhetoric of claims by C3P between 2000 and 2011 prior to CyberTip receiving official ‘tip line’ status reveals a particular construction of online sexual exploitation of children that emphasizes technological change and parental ignorance as sources of criminal opportunity while also stressing that the problem is wide ranging and growing beyond our ability to accurately measure or assess. Like previous claims-making campaigns around threatened children (e.g. Best, 1990), the production and circulation of statistics was a key rhetorical strategy used by C3P to frame the problem. Lastly, claims-making by C3P asserted remedies for the online sexual exploitation of youth that stressed the responsibility of non-state entities including parents, communities, and the exploited children themselves. Taking these claims in combination, the social construction of online sexual exploitation of children by C3P in the early 21st century aligned with the broader cultural contexts of late modern crime control by emphasizing a logic of precaution (e.g. Haggerty, 2003) and stressing the responsibility of non-state actors to work in concert with or sometimes in place of state authorities to police the internet. Furthermore, the construction of the problem of online sexual exploitation continues to reinforce well established stereotypes of sex offenders as dangerous predatory strangers, monsters in our midst, and modern day bogey men (Campbell, 2016; Hooper and Kaloski, 2006; Kitzinger, 1999; Kohm and Greenhill, 2011; Schofield, 2004; Silverman and Wilson, 2002; Thomas, 2005). The article concludes by reflecting on the implications of this for the development of criminal justice policy directed toward child sexual exploitation as well as broader issues surrounding the policing of internet and communications technology by private and public interests. I argue that claims advanced by C3P about the extent, nature, and solutions to online exploitation of children were effective in directing public and political discourses away from concerns and counterclaims about the privatization of policing, privacy, and the responsibilization of victims and participants in online sexual expression (Karaian, 2014). I suggest that the dominant framing of the issue by C3P promotes state and private interventions that reinforce problematic conceptions of sex offenders as dangerous outsiders to society while casting victims as complicit in cases where their conduct departs from an imagined ideal (Karaian, 2015).
The social construction of child sexual exploitation
I utilize a constructionist approach to social problems research by examining the content of assertions made about the issue of online child sexual exploitation in the news media. The constructionist approach directs analysts to examine the features of the claims-making process itself, rather than taking the existence of a social problem at face value. Spector and Kitsuse’s (1977: 75) classic formulation of the constructionist perspective described the claims-making process as “the activities of individuals or groups making assertions of grievances and claims with respect to some putative conditions.” For Spector and Kitsuse (1977), and others working in this tradition (e.g. Jenkins, 1994), the social organization of claims-making is the central object of analysis, and researchers operating in the constructionist paradigm are directed to examine “the key constituencies in the process, showing how claims-making is related to their interests, and describing the principal stages in the problem’s construction” (Best, 1987: 101). However, Joel Best (1987: 115) convincingly argues that analysts should also focus attention on the content, or rhetoric, of claims-making around putative social problems because “claims-makers intend to persuade, and they try to make their claims as persuasive as possible.” In order to persuade, claims-makers are likely to tailor their assertions and rhetorical style to suit the preferences and format of the media to ensure their messages are reported, as well as linking the construction of the problem with wider cultural anxieties and social concerns. Thus, Best (1987: 117) asserts that analyzing the rhetoric of claims-making allows researchers of social problems and social movements to better understand the broader contexts in which these claims emerge. In other words, the kinds of evidence and arguments marshaled to support certain claims will depend to a significant degree on the larger cultural, social, and political contexts in which those claims are made and received.
The present case study focuses on the construction of the issue of child sexual exploitation online in Canada in the early 2000s. However, concern about threats to children more generally and sexual exploitation of children specifically has a much longer history characterized by the framing and claims-making activities of media and pressure groups (Best, 1990; Jenkins, 1998). By the early 2000s, it was well established that children were vulnerable and in need of protection from threats seen to be emanating from dangerous strangers (Best, 1987, 1990). Jenkins’ (1998) historical examination of the construction of the child molester in modern America identifies several distinct eras in which the problem of the sexual abuse of children was framed in divergent ways. From the 1920s through to the post Second World War period, Jenkins (1998) describes a sex psychopath panic. In this period, fears about predatory strangers preying on children were met with the enactment of punitive legislation across many western jurisdictions that sought to indefinitely incarcerate those falling within a vaguely defined conception of the sexual psychopath 5 (see also Chenier, 2008; Freedman, 1987). Writing about Canada’s experience during this period, Elise Chenier (2008) argues that the construction of sex offenders shifted from rational to pathological and sexual deviants were seen to be afflicted with “a mental aberration of which traditional forms of punishment were neither a cure nor a deterrent” (Chenier, 2008: 4).
Viewing the sexual psychopath ‘panic’ as emotional and overblown, a number of leading criminologists and psychiatrists asserted a new construction of the sexual offender and the child molester in the 1950s and 1960s, during what Jenkins (1998) called the liberal era. Criminologist Edwin Sutherland (1950a: 543), writing about the proliferation of sexual psychopath laws, refuted the “ideology which has been made explicit in an extensive popular literature.” He lamented misconceptions about sex offenders owing to the incomprehensible nature of offences against children (Sutherland, 1950b: 143). Through a concerted effort by professionals to reframe the problem, a new conception of the child molester was forged in the liberal era. Rather than a monstrous degenerate or a pathological maniac, the child molester was recast as an otherwise normal man who had developed a warped sexuality due to improper socialization, childhood trauma, or sometimes due to the effects of senility in older men (Jenkins, 1998). In this period, child sexual molestation was minimized and recast as relatively harmless and not likely to result in long term psychological damage for most victims (Jenkins, 1998). Offenders were to be treated with sympathy and understanding, rather than condemnation and indefinite incarceration (Jenkins, 1998). Popular culture and media reflected these more liberal attitudes through the 1960s, and the panic over sex psychopaths was replaced with a period of relative calm and invisibility for the issue (Kohm, 2017; Kohm and Greenhill, 2011).
Inevitably, the liberal construction of the child molester in the 1960s gave way to new fears in the 1970s and 1980s, along with general pessimism about rehabilitation more broadly. In the context of the ascendancy of a ‘nothing works’ attitude toward corrections (e.g. Martinson, 1974) and a rhetorical re-centering of the victim in the criminal justice process (Garland, 2001), sexual predators who exploited children were again demonized in popular and professional discourses. The emergence of societal concern about the problem of missing children in the 1980s (Best, 1987, 1990) refocused attention on the vulnerabilities of children while reaffirming the construction of the dangerous stranger as the principal threat to children once again. Jenkins (2001: 33) notes that a “ferocious morality campaign” about child pornography emerged in the late 1970s in the United States. During this time, “the news media used extravagantly inflated statistics to present child porn as a pressing social menace” (Jenkins, 2001: 33). Child pornography was presented as a highly organized and immensely profitable business that was connected with contemporary concerns about missing children (Jenkins, 2001: 34). By the late 1990s, a boom in the use of the internet was “nothing short of a social revolution” (Jenkins, 2001: 47). Widespread consumer use of the internet sparked new fears about the technology and its potential to facilitate and amplify threats to children by dangerous strangers. The present study is situated at this point in the social history of threatened children. By the late 1990s, a grassroots group of social activists in Winnipeg, Canada began to get the attention of the local press and politicians. This group, previously engaged in activism and victim support for the parents of missing children, shifted focus to the new ‘problem’ of online sexual exploitation of children.
The Canadian Centre for Child Protection
The Canadian Centre for Child Protection had its origins more than three decades ago in Winnipeg, Canada as ‘Child Find Manitoba’; a grassroots, volunteer organization incorporated as a registered charity in the aftermath of the high profile disappearance and murder of 13-year-old Candace Derksen in Winnipeg in November of 1984. The abduction and murder of Candace was a significant moment in the city’s history that represented a collective loss of innocence for the community. 6 According to a recent op-ed in the Winnipeg Free Press, “thirty-three years ago, the city’s heart broke with the Derksens’” (Martin, 2017). In the aftermath of the disappearance of her child, Wilma Derksen led a movement “to build an organization that can work with police and community leaders to help to protect children and to help families deal with similar tragedies” (Winnipeg Free Press, April 22, 2015). Child Find Manitoba operated primarily at the local level through the 1980s and 1990s providing services to families of missing children, education programs, and the “All About Me ID” program that made ID booklets for thousands of children containing fingerprints and photographs to assist investigation efforts should those children be abducted.
By the late 1990s, Child Find Manitoba had begun to reposition itself as a national organization focused more broadly on the exploitation of children, with particular emphasis on the internet which had exploded in popularity through that decade. In May 2001, the Manitoba government established a Children Online Protection Committee (COPC) with the goal of developing a tip line for the reporting of “instances of child pornography, luring and the sexual exploitation of children” on the internet (https://protectchildren.ca/app/en/thirty). This was the beginning of C3P’s efforts to bridge public and private sectors in an effort to identify illegal behaviors online. The COPC committee facilitated a partnership between public, private, and non-profit sectors which included police and a major local telecommunications company.
The establishment of the COPC and its efforts to develop a tip line also mark the beginning of national news interest in the activities of what would eventually become C3P. In May 2001, a news report appeared in Canada’s largest national newspaper, the Globe and Mail, describing the COPC as “a committee made up of police, teachers and even computer repair specialists, who will work to find ways to combat on-line crimes against children” (Globe and Mail, May 24, 2001). In September 2002, Cybertip.ca was established as a pilot project operated by Child Find Manitoba. According to C3P: “As the Internet gained popularity in the late 90s, staff recognized the growing threat of online sexual exploitation of children and the connection between children that went missing and an online encounter” (https://protectchildren.ca/app/en/thirty). Cybertip.ca, although still mainly a local initiative of a charity mostly unknown outside of Manitoba, sought to provide a centralized and national reporting mechanism for all Canadians. The establishment of the tip line was reported in the Globe and Mail: “Manitoba is launching what is believed to be Canada’s first cyber tip line in an effort to protect children from Internet predators” (Globe and Mail, September 26, 2002).
In May 2004, Cybertip.ca was recognized in Canada’s National Strategy for the Protection of Children from Sexual Exploitation on the Internet. Because of this national level recognition, the organization attracted increased funding and support from internet service providers and telecommunications companies from across Canada. Child Find Manitoba and Cybertip.ca continued to become established as central to both national and international networks of public and private agencies tasked with addressing online child exploitation. By 2006, Child Find Manitoba was renamed the Canadian Centre for Child Protection to better reflect its national ambitions. A significant shift in the stature of the organization took place on December 8, 2011 when Cybertip.ca was specifically designated by Parliament as Canada’s national tip line for the reporting of online sexual exploitation of children (CyberTip, n.d.).
In a little over 25 years, the charity went from being a small, voluntary organization assisting local families of missing children to being a national level organization with a broad mandate to facilitate networks of public and private policing of child sexual exploitation online. Importantly, the Centre has positioned itself as an expert in all matters related to child exploitation and is frequently called upon by local and national media to provide commentary on a variety of issues including child abduction, revenge porn, ‘sexting’ (e.g. Karaian, 2012), and internet luring of children. Moreover, the Centre employs a staff responsible for designing and delivering its message through public awareness campaigns, educational programs and materials, media events, and the regular release of research reports prepared by the Centre’s staff. The Centre embodies characteristics of organizations that are heavily ‘mediatized’ (Doyle, 2001, 2006). According to Doyle (2001) ‘mediatized’ organizations have internalized the logic of mass media and harnessed it to their own organizational ends. Like the police and other organizations that have traditionally controlled the crime narrative, C3P carefully controls its media message about child exploitation online using strategies that carefully manage media access to the ‘backstage’ regions of the organization while presenting a stage managed ‘frontstage’ through organized media events and carefully timed media releases. C3P in a very real sense creates the news stories that are reported by the media when, for example, they release research reports compiled by their own analysts drawing on data generated by the Centre. In doing so, C3P becomes central in the social construction of the problem of child sexual exploitation online by presenting powerful claims to the media that are difficult to challenge by other claims-makers because the organization works in virtual secrecy, generates the statistical data for its research reports, and has become viewed as a symbolic ‘owner’ of the issue (Best, 1990; Surette, 2007). I critically assess the dominant framing of the issue by C3P and argue that their claims are rooted in the longstanding myth of the pedophile as dangerous societal outsider (Kitzinger, 1999) while simultaneously responsibilizing victims and parents who fail to conduct themselves in ways that align with the ethos of neoliberalism and the rational management of risk (Haggerty, 2003). Moreover, I argue that the symbolic ownership of the issue by C3P has become a material reality in Canada through federal and provincial legislation that empowers this private entity to act as a virtual police agency in cases that now include broad conduct online beyond that involving children (CBC News, 2016).
Methods
This article presents findings from a multi-method study of the policing of child exploitation online. The larger study draws on three sources of data: in-depth, qualitative interviews with senior staff and board members of C3P; publicly available reports and educational materials published by C3P; and news media accounts of the activities of C3P and claims made by the organization in local and national newspapers. The present discussion focuses primarily on the latter stream of data. Qualitative content analysis was undertaken using news items drawn from three Canadian newspapers. The local independently-owned Winnipeg Free Press (WFP) was included because C3P and its subsidiaries are headquartered in Winnipeg and consequently the WFP contained the largest number of stories about the Centre and provided greater depth of coverage around the history, origins, and unique personalities within the organization. The activities of C3P and Canada’s national tip line were framed as both a local and a national news story within the WFP. Additionally, Canada’s largest national newspaper, the Globe and Mail (GM), was included because it has the largest circulation of any English language Canadian newspaper and a broad readership from across Canada. Lastly, Canada’s largest local daily newspaper, the Toronto Star (TS), was included because key informant interviews with directors at C3P revealed that the organization had a unique and trusted working relationship with the TS and that they provided the newspaper with special access not typically offered to other news outlets. Combined, the three newspapers have a large circulation in Canada. The WFP is one of the largest independent daily newspapers in Canada, with an average weekday circulation (print and online) of 101,229 in 2015. 7 The GM is national in scope and has the largest average weekday circulation of any newspaper in Canada: 323,133 in 2015. The TS is Canada’s largest local daily newspaper, with an average daily circulation of 308,881 in 2015. All three newspapers have comprehensive digital editions as well as traditional print editions (News Media Canada, n.d.).
Online digital archives of the three newspapers were searched using the keywords ‘Cybertip.ca,’ ‘Child Find Manitoba,’ ‘Canadian Centre for Child Protection,’ and ‘Missingkids.ca’ which encompass all of the subsidiary organizations operated by C3P. To ensure complete coverage, a search of the same terms was carried out using the ProQuest news database. In total, the search yielded 143 individual newspaper items from 2001–2011, which included 76 items from the WFP, 39 items from the GM, and 28 items from the TS. Newspaper items included news stories, wire service stories, unsigned editorials, and op-ed opinion pieces.
Using a grounded and open approach to coding (e.g. Corbin and Strauss, 1990), analysis revealed several recurrent themes related to concerns about the issue of child exploitation online. Broadly, three key categories of claims predominated in the data: 1) the nature of the problem, 2) the extent (or scope) of the problem, and 3) potential solutions to the problem. Each news item was examined for specific claims that could be directly attributed to C3P, its subsidiary entities, and associated directors or spokespersons. 8 Claims falling into each of the three key themes were tabulated for each news item, and the rhetorical content and style of each claim was subject to further qualitative analysis. Some news items in the sample contained no specific claims attributed directly to C3P or its subsidiary organizations. These items were assigned a count of zero (0). Conversely, several news items contained more than one type of claim. In these cases, items were assigned a number up to a maximum of three (3), indicating that the item contained all types of claims.
Findings: Claims and claims-making by C3P
Analysis of the 143 news items comprising the sample revealed three broad categories of claims that were directly advanced by C3P and their associates. The three categories are summarized below.
Extent: Claims and assertions about the scale, size, or magnitude of the problem were coded under this category. Claims about the extent of the problem were often, but not always, accompanied by statistics, a key rhetorical strategy noted by Best (1990) in his analysis of claims-making about threats to children.
Nature: Claims and assertions about the qualities, characteristics, or features of the problem, including those supported by statistics, were coded under this category. Two specific subcategories are: 1) claims that focus on the etiology of the crime – the nature, characteristics, and qualities of offender behavior and motivations; and 2) claims that focus on the nature, characteristics, or qualities of victim consequences or experiences.
Solutions: Claims and assertions about various solutions, remedies, calls to action, or behaviors that must be taken to lessen or eradicate the problem were coded under this category. Two distinct subcategories are: 1) solutions that require state action, such as new legislation or law enforcement; and 2) those that require non-state action on the part of parents, children, companies, or the public at large.
Table 1 summarizes the claims from 2001–2011. Overall, just more than half of all claims forwarded by C3P and reported in the three newspapers concerned solutions (51%). Conversely, only about 13% of all claims focused on the extent of the problem. Broken down by news outlet, there was variation in the kinds of claims found in each newspaper. Reporting of claims in the WFP mirrored the overall sample proportions. Alternatively, the GM focused the most attention on claims about the nature of the problem (nearly 47%), and a larger proportion of stories carried claims about the extent of the problem (20%). The TS reported the fewest claims (13), but nearly 70% of those claims focused on solutions to the problem. Below, detailed qualitative analysis of the rhetoric of the three categories of claims is presented.
Frequency of claims by category.
Constructing the extent of the problem
The least common type of claim reported in the news media concerned the extent or the scope of the issue of child exploitation. This suggests that relatively little effort was required by C3P to establish the seriousness of the issue. Social movements in Canada such as Child Find Manitoba likely benefitted from claims-making activities of larger American groups. As a result, Canadians were already exposed through American media outlets to news and popular cultural items that supported a construction of the online child sexual exploitation of children as a large problem. The relative paucity of claims about the extent of the issue may also be attributed to the framing of news stories about child sexual exploitation by journalists. The media is not merely a neutral arena for claims-makers to assert competing views of the social world; media also “play an active role in the construction, inflection and framing of both issues and claims makers” (Hansen, 2000: 55). Consequently, there was markedly less emphasis on establishing the scope of the problem than on establishing its nature and potential solutions in the decade before Cybertip.ca was affirmed in federal legislation. Additionally, claims focusing on the extent of the issue were more commonly reported in the earlier years. Eight of the 13 claims about extent of the issue appeared in news items between 2001 and 2006, while only one claim of this type appeared in news items between 2010 and 2011. This suggests that a consensus about the scope of the problem likely existed at the time C3P was working to define the problem.
Bigger than we can know
Given that this is illegal content, it’s really difficult to know the scope of the problem, and we are assuming that obviously this is bigger than we even know. (Lianna McDonald, GM, June 9, 2005).
A recurrent rhetorical strategy used in claims-making about the extent of the problem asserted that the true extent of the issue could not be known. Framed by a logic of precaution that urges us to imagine worst case scenarios (e.g. Haggerty, 2003), spokespersons for C3P asserted that the scope of the problem must be assumed to be much larger than we can see and larger than what is reflected in official police statistics. The claims used evocative terms like ‘tip of the iceberg’ to drive home the assertion that the problem is larger and more extensive than statistics or news reports might lead us to believe. Where gaps in empirical knowledge exist, self-styled experts with C3P urged the public to assume the worst.
For example, the assertion below emphasizes the huge size of the problem and the unknowability of the true extent of the issue due to underreporting by victims. Curiously, the claims-maker rhetorically asserts the authority of statistics while simultaneously claiming that the problem is impossible to measure: “We know from some of the statistics that there are staggering numbers of youth who are approached on-line and receive sexual advances and material. We know it’s going on, and it’s underreported” (Lianna McDonald, GM, September 14, 2002). This rhetorical strategy neatly forecloses any other possible interpretation of the available data. For example, the absence of large numbers of occurrences of child luring in official Canadian police data (Loughlin and Taylor-Butts, 2009) or in victim surveys (Perreault, 2011) can be explained away by referencing the behavior of victims who, it is claimed, may be reluctant to report their criminal victimization “because of guilt or fear they may have their computer privileges taken away” (Lianna McDonald, GM, September 8, 2003). This seems to have been a persuasive strategy used by C3P to bolster a framing of the issue as a “growing problem” that “is affecting all of our children” (Lianna MacDonald, TS, March 26, 2009).
A numbers game
Despite the fact that several claims underscored the unknowability of the problem and the deficiencies of statistics in measuring victim experience, other claims forwarded by C3P and its affiliates were paired with various rates and statistics, nearly always generated by the Centre itself. According to Best (1990: 18), “statistics are a standard element in modern claims-making rhetoric.” However, in his study of missing children, Best (1990) identified the way that statistics asserted by claims-makers came to be points of debate in and of themselves. In particular, those critical of the claims-makers’ arguments about missing children asserted that “questionable statistics” were used to exaggerate the scope of the problem (Best, 1990: 18). In the case of C3P and CyberTip, no such debate or critique about statistics was in evidence in media reports between 2001 and 2011. Despite the fact that some claims made by C3P were backed by vaguely articulated numbers generated through dubious methods, no challenges or counter claims were reported in the mainstream media.
For example, Executive Director Lianna McDonald claimed that “Through our advisory groups we’re learning that up to 40 per cent of Grade 4 students are coming across inappropriate pictures and material” (WFP, February 9, 2010). To a social scientist, it is troubling that no definition of “inappropriate material” is provided, nor is there any explanation of the methodology used to generate such statistics or the membership of the aforementioned “advisory groups.” Statistics without a reference point or context can nevertheless be an effective rhetorical strategy of claims-making in the media.
Frequently, statistics proffered by the staff of C3P and affiliates came from the reports received by the Centre itself and the tip line. Claims relying on these self-compiled statistics often took the form of reactions by C3P staff to the volume of tips. This was common in earlier news reports shortly after the tip line was launched. For example, it was reported that C3P directors found the numbers of reports generated by the tip line to be “startling” (GM, June 9, 2005; GM, June 10, 2005) and they were reportedly “surprised by the number of responses they’ve received” (GM, June 9, 2005). These assertions suggested that the Centre was receiving more tips than they expected, and therefore that the scope of the problem was larger than previously imagined. This rhetorical strategy provided further strength to claims that the problem is larger than we can see.
While claims about the large extent of the problem were the least common type advanced by C3P, the rhetorical strategy was highly effective in spite of the fact that official police statistics and victim surveys painted a different picture of the problem (e.g. Loughlin and Taylor-Butts, 2009; Mitchell et al., 2014; Perreault, 2011). As Best (1990) points out, statistics do not exist entirely as objective facts but are subject to claims-making and framing by interest groups. C3P was therefore able to undermine the persuasive authority that police statistics normally embody by presenting their own dubious statistics or by simply registering a ‘shocked’ or ‘alarmed’ reaction. Despite evidence that the problem is more limited in scope, C3P was able to further their own organizational interests and forge links to the state in part by use of these distorted and exaggerated claims. Unlike other crime types where media seek alternate viewpoints or interpretations, it is noteworthy that counterclaims were conspicuously absent in media reports about the extent of the problem. For example, one early news report (GM, September 14, 2002) contained a claim by C3P about the alarming size of the problem followed by reference to a survey by the Crimes Against Children Research Center (CACRC) at the University of New Hampshire. While the article used the survey to bolster claims by C3P about the extent of the problem, a recent bulletin issued by the CACRC qualified the results of the survey: “the risk from online predators is relatively small; most solicitors are other youth and many of the solicitations were very casual” (Mitchell et al., 2014: 3). This type of nuanced interpretation of the survey results might have undercut the strong claims of C3P; however, it is troubling that such information was consistently absent in news reports. Consequently, C3P was able establish themselves as an expert in this area and is now sought out as the authority on the subject despite the often dubious content of their assertions about the scope of the problem.
Constructing the nature of the problem
Claims focused on the nature of the problem of child sexual exploitation online were the second most common type across the whole sample, but were the most frequently reported type of claim in the GM which is published across Canada. Claims in this category tended to emphasize the visceral and emotional dimensions of the crime. For example, an early article in the GM carried assertions by the director of Child Find Manitoba about the nature of non-parental abductions of children. These events “grip the throats of parents” and “end more tragically than other abductions” (Lianna McDonald, GM, May 16, 2001). Elsewhere, McDonald claimed “We’re dealing with a very dark side of human behaviour” (WFP, March 27, 2009). The rhetoric of claims focusing on the nature of the crime aligns neatly with the informal codes and preferences of news organizations that tend to prioritize stories featuring graphic imagery, child victims, sexual or violent offences, and risk (e.g. Jewkes, 2011). Claims by C3P worked to reify myths about stranger danger while simultaneously constructing a criminal etiology based on individual rational choice and opportunity rather than locating the issue in broader “social, cultural or bureaucratic institutions” (Kitzinger, 1999: 145). Moreover, claims of this type were often pitched at an emotional level which positioned the issue of child sexual exploitation in close proximity to readers, who are warned against assuming that this problem doesn’t happen close to home or to people like you and me. Drawing on a risk-based and victim-centered construction of crime, such claims in the media reinforce the myth of serious crime as “random, meaningless and ready to strike anyone at any time” (Jewkes, 2011: 51).
It’s closer than you think
Several claims about the nature of online exploitation of children focused on the geographic location of the crime. In the example below, the Executive Director of C3P asserts that the problem is not isolated in faraway parts of the world, but is happening close to home and therefore should be of immediate concern to Canadians: It’s a common assumption that child porn is created in other parts of the world, but families need to know that “it happens in homes across this country,” said Lianna McDonald of the Winnipeg-based Canadian Centre for Child Protection, which runs the Cybertip.ca tipline. (WFP, December 2, 2008)
By referencing “homes across this country,” the above claim reinforces the idea that we are all potential victims and that crime is everywhere and random. While such claims could support the criminological truism that violent and sexual crimes are most often perpetrated by family and acquaintances, rather than strangers, claims by C3P frequently contradict this point by focusing on the activities and motivations of strangers who use the internet to exploit and sometimes abduct children. This more common construction of the nature of sexual exploitation of children draws from the pervasive myth of stranger danger and “locates dangerousness in a few aberrant individuals who can be metaphorically (if not literally) excluded from society” (Kitzinger, 1999: 135).
Criminal etiology
Claims that addressed the causes of sexual exploitation online tended to focus predominantly on the role of technology in facilitating the offense, rather than addressing who offends and why. In general, the social problem framing leaves the question of offender etiology mostly open, and instead works from the assumption that a large and possibly growing number of offenders simply exist online while the technology merely allows them to act with anonymity and ease. Thus, claims around etiology eschew a social criminology and align more closely with the situational criminologies of everyday life that Garland (2001) asserts had come into ascendancy in the late 20th century: “[Cybertip.ca director Signy Arnason] believes the Internet has ‘normalized’ the behaviour of people who collect these images and made it easier for them to seek each other out … ‘The Internet has just connected these individuals. It hasn’t created them’” (WFP, January 13, 2009). Similarly, just as situational criminologists focus on the (in)actions of would-be victims that can either facilitate or prevent crime (Garland, 2000), claims by C3P and its affiliates stressed the role of parents in either facilitating or inhibiting opportunities for online offenders. For example, the assertion below suggests that careless parents who don’t understand social media can end up being taken advantage of by offenders who exploit their ignorance: Predators can use identifying information as well as the parents’ posted personal details to try to make contact with a child in a schoolyard for example. Arnason said parents give up control of how the photos might be used once they’re posted. (WFP, February 9, 2009)
Such claims again reinforce the myth that crime is random and largely inexplicable and that opportunity drives the criminal. Such an attitude embodies a reductive economic style of reasoning that sees criminal victimization as a product of opportunities and disincentives largely resulting from the actions of parents and would be victims (Garland, 2001).
The theme of parental ignorance of computing technology was apparent in claims that highlighted the gap in knowledge between young people who are presumed to be internet savvy and older adults who are painted as ignorant and behind the technological times. The claim below suggests that this knowledge gap is being exploited by the children themselves who may be complicit in their victimization when they hide their misadventures on the internet: Parents are playing catch-up to their children as eight- or nine-year-olds are now routinely surfing the Web, said Lianna McDonald … “Kids can talk their way around their parents about their on-line activities. Parents don’t know when they’re being had,” she said. (GM, May 8, 2006)
These types of claims have become increasingly amplified in the context of the proliferation of mobile computing technology and the widespread adoption of mobile smartphones that enable sharing of sexual images. Indeed, claims around technological ignorance may highlight a deeper fear about teen ‘sexualization’—“a ‘social problem’ whereby children, particularly white, heterosexual, middle-class girls, are purportedly being mal-socialized to deny their natural ‘innocence’” (Karaian, 2015: 337). Asserting that parents are ‘being had’ by children using technology adds urgency to calls for parents to adopt heightened vigilance and to approach their children with a degree of suspicion when it comes on online behavior. For Karaian (2014: 284), framing this issue as one of parental responsibility and individual self-control exemplifies neoliberal governance at a distance. This is most apparent in claims by C3P about so-called teen ‘sexting’. 9
Teen sexting and self-exploitation
“We are starting to see new trends whereby children are involved in the production of what we would define as child abuse material or child pornography,” said Lianna McDonald, CCCP’s executive director. (WFP, February 9, 2011)
News stories and attendant claims about the phenomenon of teen “sexting” began to appear in 2010. Teen sexting presented a rhetorical dilemma for C3P. The offender typifications asserted by C3P that stressed choice, opportunity, and deterrence were an uneasy fit for teens who participated in sexually explicit online activities. For instance, how can a teen be both a victim and an offender in the same criminal transaction? Consequently, the issue of teen ‘sexting’ was taken up in claims by C3P and its subsidiary organizations that framed the behavior differently from the activities of adults engaging in similar actions. Claims focused less on rational choice and opportunity, and more on the psychological processes that are assumed to undergird teen behavior, such as impulsivity, peer pressure, and the negative conditioning effects of media, as demonstrated in the quotes below: Noni Classen, director of education at the Canadian Centre for Child Protection, said that, for teenagers “sexting” has, for some, become so normalized that they don’t stop to think about consequences. Celebrities who’ve had their “sexts” made public, like High School Musical’s Vanessa Hudgens, have only contributed to this. “They’re thinking in the here and now,” she said. “They think it’s no big deal.” (GM, June 18, 2010)
Discourses of responsibilization and blame circulated among the claims of C3P around teen sexting (Karaian, 2014). Recently, C3P has launched an education program that frames the issue of teen sexting as ‘self-exploitation,’ deftly asserting that victims are perpetrators of their own exploitation and must consequently bear some measure of moral responsibility for their careless actions (Karaian, 2015). Claims of this type tended to reify a distinction between innocent child victims and morally blameworthy actors who did not take all necessary precautions to protect themselves online. Young girls who failed to heed the warnings of C3P are “shamed for being sexual and for failing to prevent their own victimization” (Karaian, 2014: 293).
Victimology
A large number of claims by C3P about the nature of online exploitation focused on the experience, characteristics, and vulnerability of victims. As noted above, such assertions can focus on the role that victims play in their exploitation and at times can seem to veer into a discourse of blame, responsibilization, and self-discipline on the part of child victims of sexual exploitation. For example, when commenting about a case of abduction, Noni Classen (director of education at the C3P) suggested that “children who are targeted by these types of “predators” often don’t see themselves as victims, which can make it difficult to uncover abuse” (WFP, June 23, 2010): “Often the individuals involved in these types of cases are very charismatic. The child almost becomes emotionally dependent on them, and it becomes very confusing,” said Classen. “A lot of times they will come forward not because of the abuse, but because the abuse has stopped.” Classen said parents must keep a close eye on their children in organized activities. (WFP, June 23, 2010)
At times, claims-making took the form of very specific assertions about victim characteristics and vulnerability. For example, Lianna McDonald asserted that “Adolescent girls, the 13-to-16 age group, are among the most vulnerable. Kids that age can present as mature but it’s a pseudo-maturity. They are not equipped to handle this” (WFP, February 6, 2006). Similarly, CyberTip Director Signy Arnason asserted that “girls between the ages of 13-15 are the most prone to be victims of Internet luring” (WFP, March 20, 2008).
Similar to claims around the psychology of teen sexting, claims about children’s psychological development were asserted to explain vulnerability. According to Arnason, “the average age of victims is 14. It’s a time when many young people are trying to become more autonomous, which may add to their hesitation to report online sexual advances to an adult” (GM, March 13, 2009).
According to McDonald: “This is a developmental thing in some ways. Kids this age are taking these [online video] games very, very seriously. They spend a lot of time online. There’s a lot of bartering in the games, trading points for prizes … If an adult tells a child they’ll barter points for a picture, they may not understand the danger they’re facing.” (WFP, May 25, 2006)
In general, claims about victim vulnerability oscillated between a discourse of responsibilization particularly around teen ‘sexting’ and discourses of developmental psychology that emphasized the inability of children to perceive their own victimization. Both discourses tend to place the responsibility for solutions squarely outside the reach of the state and into the hands of individual parents and children who are urged to take advantage of the information and resources being proffered by C3P and its subsidiary organizations. It is particularly noteworthy that teenage girls were specifically singled out for concern in claims-making around victimization by C3P. Similar to other constructions of ideal victims, (heterosexual) teenage girls were constructed as particularly vulnerable to sexual exploitation even in the context of the consensual sharing of sexual images. This construction of the typical victim simultaneously renders the experiences of young boys invisible while also suggesting girls in particular need greater surveillance and education about proper online behaviors. This in turn influenced the kinds of ameliorative actions called for by C3P in claims-making around solutions to the problem.
Solutions
The most common claim type advanced by C3P and its subsidiary organizations concerned solutions. This type of claim is comprised of assertions about what sorts of actions are needed to ameliorate or eradicate the problem, as it has been typified through other assertions about its extent and nature. Therefore, claims about solutions build from the more general construction of the social problem by C3P successfully advancing a variety of claims about child sexual exploitation. The fact that C3P is frequently sought out by media as an expert in issues of child sexual exploitation gives their claims serious weight in the mediated marketplace of ideas (e.g. Best, 1990; Surette, 2007), and consequently C3P is able to shape public perceptions and policy around the issue.
Solutions advanced in these claims can be divided into two general subtypes: solutions that focus on actions required by the state—such as new laws, policies, or activities by police; and solutions that focus on the actions of non-state actors, mainly parents and children themselves. Awareness, education, and specific behaviors for potential child victims are most often asserted within this type of claim.
In addition, a number of claims about solutions to the issue focus on the work of C3P itself as an essential and valuable entity that can facilitate better public awareness, education, and enforcement of laws. Not surprisingly, by claims-making around the effectiveness of their own work, C3P and its subsidiary organizations are able to assert near total ownership of the issue and completely foreclose all other counterclaims—casting other constructions of the issue as illegitimate or existing on the fringes. Although largely omitted and marginalized in media coverage, counterclaims about the privatization of policing and concerns about internet privacy pose a challenge to the dominant position of C3P by begging uncomfortable questions about the role of a private charity in Canada’s national law enforcement strategy. I consider these counterclaims below and in the discussion that follows.
The state
Claims of this type focused on the necessity for better laws or enforcement of laws by the state and its agencies. For example, the following excerpt from the Toronto Star asserts the necessity for action by law enforcement: Lianna McDonald, executive director of Child Find Manitoba, which operates Cybertips.ca [sic.], a Web site that collects complaints about Internet exploitation of children, supports “aggressive” law enforcement, “because largely people are thinking they can get away with this … This is the type of industry where we need to be more proactive.” (TS, October 11, 2003)
This type of assertion tends to support the construction of the offense as calculated and opportunistic. Thus, asserting that offenders can be deterred with more vigorous law enforcement suggests that sexual exploitation of children online is based on an assumption of rational decision making by offenders. Similarly, asserting the need for tougher laws follows the same etiological logic. Commenting on a proposed amendment to Canadian legislation governing the sex offender registry, Lianna McDonald emphasized the deterrent effect on potential sex offenders: “What we hope is that this will be a deterrent for those who do not want to be put on the registry, that they will think twice before they move forward to harm a child” (WFP, June 2, 2009).
During the study timeframe, Manitoba passed a new provincial law at the behest of C3P that made it mandatory to report child pornography. The following excerpt from the Winnipeg Free Press advances a claim about the new law while also enjoining with it an assertion that non-state actors must also take responsibility to act: Lianna McDonald, executive director of the Canadian Centre for Child Protection, said the law will help raise awareness about the public’s duty to alert police if they stumble across photographs or videos showing a child being abused, hopefully before the images are reproduced hundreds of thousands of times on the Internet … “This sends a strong message that child sexual abuse is your business and you have a responsibility to take action and report it,” she said. (WFP, November 28, 2007)
While several claims advanced by C3P and its subsidiaries focused on the actions of the state, the great majority of claims focusing on solutions instead urged non-state actors to take action.
Non-state
The bulk of claims about solutions focused on the actions of non-state actors. Parents were singled out for much of this action, which included better monitoring and understanding of the dangers of the internet: Ms. McDonald said parents need to tell their children early that they will be supervising Internet use and that cyberspace gives them no right to privacy. Parents should install filtering programs, track who children are chatting with and ban unsupervised use of webcams. (GM, May 8, 2006)
Parents were also implored to conduct themselves as rational actors driven by a risk-based calculative logic and cost-benefit analysis when it comes to online activities: She urges parents to carefully weigh the benefits and risks of posting images of their kids and cautions those who do to at least pay attention to detail. Avoid posting photos that include any “visual clues” that might indicate where the child lives or goes to school, she said, adding images that contain licence plates and team jerseys should be avoided. (WFP, February 9, 2009)
In emphasizing the necessary actions of parents, many claims also embodied a variety of implicit or explicit assertions about how children should conduct themselves online. The following claim drawn from the Winnipeg Free Press simultaneously asserts the responsibility of parents while claiming that kids must also be made aware of the risks of the internet and their own vulnerability: “It’s not enough to glance at the screen and assume it’s safe. You need to know your child’s log-in and password. You need to know who they are talking to. You need to explain very carefully that there can be tremendous harm in this.” “A child who sends out a photo doesn’t understand that many people might view it. She doesn’t understand this is permanent.” (Lianna McDonald, WFP, May 25, 2006)
Text messaging in particular was singled out by C3P and its subsidiaries in a number of claims and assertions that focused on the behavior of teens and the need for education around the dangers of electronic communication: “Considering the main form of communication for much of today’s generation is through text-messaging, the need for safe-texting education is imperative,” said Lianna McDonald, the executive director of the Canadian Centre for Child Protection. She added when it comes to texting, children and parents should follow the mantra: “When in doubt, don’t send it out.” (WFP, November 20, 2010)
Most claims around solutions thus implicated C3P itself as a source of education for kids and parents about the dangers of the internet. A large number of claims focused on the successes of C3P initiatives and asserted that parents in particular must avail themselves of the resources of the Centre to better protect themselves against a host of hidden dangers to children lurking online.
The essential work of C3P
Not surprisingly, many claims focused on the work of C3P, highlighting the effectiveness of its programs and asserting the need to continue to grow and expand these initiatives. A number of claims asserted the value of certain investigative aids. For example, C3P and Child Find have a long-running fingerprinting and identification program that emphasizes the importance of maintaining a forensic aid to assist investigators in the event a child is abducted: “‘We want to raise awareness about the importance of a picture, because one in six children reported missing is located as a direct result of a photograph,’ says McDonald” (WFP, May 21, 2003); “Child Find says the All About Me documents can save precious time in the recovery process if a child goes missing, as parents are often too traumatized to correctly describe their child to authorities” (WFP, May 24, 2007). Importantly, a number of assertions highlighted the intermediate space occupied by C3P and Cybertip.ca. Claims about their value and the way they work to bridge law enforcement and the public speak to the broad network of public and private entities engaged in policing the internet. The following example highlights the value C3P adds to policing efforts: Cybertip.ca employs two content analysts, one of them a former police officer, who review sites and decide whether police should be contacted. Staff Sgt. Boyd Campbell, who investigates child exploitation cases for the Winnipeg Police Service, says the tip line has been helpful in separating the wheat from the chaff. He said such investigations are labour-intensive and can take up to six weeks to complete. (GM, September 8, 2003)
Frequently, spokespersons for Cybertip.ca compare its activities to well-known civilian-police partnerships: “‘We’re like a neighbourhood watch for the Internet,’ says Signy Arnason, the site’s director” (WFP, June 12, 2005). Besides raising awareness of the scope and nature of the problem and its own value to law enforcement, C3P’s claims about potential solutions focus most often on education and training. The Centre has developed a variety of educational programs and materials which are frequently the object of media interest and are announced at regular press conferences and media events staged by C3P. For example, at a press conference announcing a new education initiative called The Door That’s Not Locked, Lianna McDonald described the new program as follows: “It’s set up in such a way that they can find age-appropriate information and find out what their kids are doing, what the risks are, and how to keep them safer,” McDonald said. “What a five-year-old, beginning and using the Internet, needs to know, and what 16-year-old is doing, are quite different things.” (WFP, February 9, 2010)
Not surprisingly, many claims in news media about C3P’s successes and education initiatives were accompanied by the assertion that more funding could only increase their successes in protecting children: In the past two years, [Cybertip.ca] has generated approximately 1,200 tips from Canadians. Just over 40 per cent of these were reported to law enforcement officials for further investigation. This has resulted in eight arrests and more than 180 site shutdowns. With increased funding, Cybertip.ca hopes to further increase this successful track record. (GM, July 9, 2004)
Claims about solutions and various calls to action were the most common across the dataset. Such claims work hand in hand with other claims by C3P about the nature of the offence, the dynamics of victimization, and the overall scope of the problem to position the organization as a credible and reliable source of information about the subject and indeed a full partner with government and law enforcement allied in the fight against online sexual exploitation of children. Unlike other crime stories, the news media afforded a high degree of deference to C3P and often covered their media events without seeking additional viewpoints on the story. This was aided by the fact that C3P directors cultivated personal relationships with individual journalists and provided preferential access to those deemed trustworthy and likely to provide positive coverage. 10 Because C3P is a private entity, they are able to control access to information in ways not possible for police or other public agencies. This may explain the absence of critical commentary in most news stories about the Centre. Academics, privacy lawyers, and other professionals with alternative positions were rarely sought as a counterbalance to the claims of C3P in the media.
Counterclaims
While counterclaims were notably absent in most media stories about C3P, there were still very serious concerns about accountability and the extension of police powers to a non-state entity. Prior to federal legislation deeming C3P Canada’s national reporting entity, provincial legislation in Manitoba extending police powers to C3P was strongly rebuked in an unsigned editorial in the WFP. The WFP editorial board denounced the law as running counter to due process and public accountability: [Manitoba Justice Minister] Mr. Mackintosh, in making the tip line’s cyber analysts “special constables,” has turned them into agents of the state and researchers for the police. His law will force Manitobans, on threat of imprisonment, to trust the virtual middlemen he has inserted between them and the police, whose legitimate authority citizens know is drawn from and contained by law and due process. Mr. Mackintosh asks too much. He should remind Manitobans of their moral duty to report suspicions of child exploitation and pornography, but leave the investigation of hunches to police officers. (WFP, December 1, 2007)
In a similar vein, an op-ed piece by University of Ottawa law professor Michael Geist derided Canadian legislation proposing mandatory disclosure requirements for Internet Service Providers (ISPs). Of particular concern was the expanding role of private companies in policing the internet: “Deputizing ISPs brings with it challenging questions about our comfort with having Bell Canada, Telus, Rogers, Shaw and other leading ISPs cast as supporting players for law enforcement” (TS, November 30, 2009). Although not directly critical of the activities of C3P, Geist’s generalized concerns about the accountability of privatized law enforcement mirror the WFP critique about the extension of law enforcement powers to C3P analysts.
Other counterclaims about the responsibilization of parents and teen girls and the gendered and racialized dimensions of C3P education campaigns played out solely in academic contexts (Karaian, 2014, 2015). Competing claims about the extent of the problem (e.g. Mitchell et al., 2014) were also notably absent in accounts in Canadian media leading up to the official designation of C3P as Canada’s national reporting agency for child exploitation. That these serious concerns were neglected by Canadian news media is not entirely surprising but it is deeply troubling. Below, I offer some concluding thoughts about the causes and consequences of this absence as well as the concomitant rise of C3P as a key player in the policing of the internet in Canada.
Discussion and conclusion
C3P and its subsidiary organizations such as Cybertip.ca have advanced a variety of claims about the social problem of child exploitation, emphasizing the extent of the issue, the nature or features of the issue, and what types of solutions ought to be advanced to ameliorate or eradicate the problem. These sometime dubious and often unsupported claims characterized the problem as larger than we can possibly know or ascertain through victim or police statistics; as largely the result of dangerous strangers who rationally maximize opportunities afforded by technology and the ignorance of parents and children; and as carrying the potential for devastating long term consequences for parents and children. Claims-making by C3P located the solution in more vigorous law enforcement, tougher laws, and, most importantly, purposeful action by parents and kids who must take steps to educate themselves about the problem through programming offered by the Centre. That the social problem was constructed predominantly as a failure of parents and children to properly regulate their own behavior confirms Karaian’s (2014) assertion that C3P’s activities evince indirect governance through non-state organizations and individual action. Moreover, the positioning of C3P as both an authority on all matters related to online sexual exploitation of children as well as a key player in the actual policing of online exploitation through provincial and federal statutes runs counter to Yar’s (2013: 482) contention that policing of internet sex offences will necessarily be placed “at the apex of the ‘hierarchy of understanding’ and as such drive expectations that they will be subject to urgent and concerted action by state agencies, rather than being delegated to non-state actors.” Instead, C3P has been able to carefully construct the problem as one that urgently requires their participation in a policing solution. Counterclaims about police authority, accountability, and privacy have been largely absent in the Canadian media and effectively subverted by C3P’s astute media strategies. This latter point is a key finding of the present study. The lack of counterclaims in the media speaks to the particular features of this issue. Much like terrorism, the framing of child sexual exploitation in the media leaves little room for critical counterclaims or alternate perspectives. This is due in part to the activities of organizations like C3P to define the problem in a particular way, but it also owes to the broader cultural place of the pedophile as a modern day ‘bogey man’ (Silverman and Wilson 2002).
Although my analysis is exploratory and preliminary, it demonstrates that the claims of C3P in the media powerfully framed the way the issue was understood in Canada and drove public and political discourses about how to address the problem The issue of online child exploitation has clearly become owned and primarily defined by C3P—a registered charity, not a public body. This is due in large part to the fact that C3P controls a key source of data on internet child sexual exploitation: public reports made to their organization. This data is analyzed by in-house personnel who disseminate collated research reports and annual ‘Social Value Reports’ that present the data in a way that cannot be either validated or countered by outside researchers. Moreover, C3P is often called by media to react to periodic police or victim statistics on internet child exploitation and is therefore able to offer its own interpretation of those statistics. For example, a recent Statistics Canada report noted a 233% increase in child pornography offences reported by police between 2006 and 2016. However, the report cautioned that this increase was due in part to concerted efforts at enforcement in one major municipal jurisdiction and may not be reflective of a national trend. Conversely, in a press release, C3P characterized the numbers as “alarming” and called for urgent action: The numbers are ugly and difficult to think about. However, more than ever, this issue requires public recognition that more needs to be done to attack this huge problem. Canadians need to know that these types of horrendous crimes are being committed against children and our country must strengthen its resolve and invest the necessary resources to fight the exploitation and abuse of children. (Canadian Centre for Child Protection, 2017)
The authority of C3P to construct the problem of online child sexual exploitation may derive in part from its origins as a grassroots movement founded by the mother of a child who was tragically abducted and murdered. Like John Walsh in the United States who was able to position himself as a key authority on missing children (Best, 1990), C3P was able to leverage a similar experiential authority in the early days of the organization and gain favorable and indeed deferential coverage by the local media. Additionally, claims-making by C3P was aided by similar activities in the United States and internationally in the 1990s and early 2000s where the scope and nature of the social problem was already being actively framed in the media (Jenkins, 2001).
As Jenkins (1998) and Best (1990) point out, none of this suggests that child sexual exploitation does not exist or that its harms are not serious and real. However, the manner by which the problem has been defined emphasizes certain features of the problem and implies certain kinds of social policy responses, to the exclusion of other ways of addressing or understanding the issue. That most policy solutions implied by this dominant construction focus on the activities of potential victims and parents rather than focusing on the responsibility of technology companies to take action, for example, suggests that there are serious gaps in obtaining a full understanding of the issue. 11 The framing of the problem and its ownership by C3P also aligns with broader trends in late modern criminal justice, whereby the state tends to govern indirectly through networks of public, private, and corporate entities whose interests are brought into general alignment with the state (Karaian, 2014). C3P is a registered charity, comprised mostly of well-meaning and energetic middle class professional women who only want to prevent children from being abused and exploited. That their claims have been so effective and that their organization has been so successful in wresting control of the social problem is in equal parts a testament to their dogged efforts as well as broader social, political, and economic currents shaping crime control in the contemporary era. Nevertheless, concerns about privacy, accountability, and the authority of private policing of the internet beg further investigation by critical criminologists and socio-legal scholars. As well, the fact that significant policing activities in Canada appear to be carried out by a private entity at arm’s length from the state runs counter to recent criminological analyses in other western contexts (e.g. Yar, 2013) and therefore begs further critical investigation. Nevertheless, this exploratory study contributes to the literature by providing a detailed case study of how a localized child saving movement in Midwestern Canada came to exert national influence over the regulation and policing of sex crimes against children online through concerted claims-making in the media.
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.
