How Harry Styles’ stalking incident highlights the boundaries of celebrity worship

Image via Wikimedia Commons

A later version of this article was first published by The Conversation on 2 May 2024 and can be read here.

By Alexandros Antoniou, Essex Law School

In our digitally interconnected world, the allure of Hollywood and music sensations captivates millions, drawing admirers into the intimate orbit of their idols. Falling under the spell of a celebrity crush is a common aspect of adolescent development, but today’s heightened accessibility can foster a dangerous sense of entitlement among fans.

The recent conviction of Harry Styles’ stalker, who inundated him with 8,000 cards in under a month, vividly illustrates the alarming consequences of overstepping boundaries in the perceived intimacy between fans and celebrities. Notably, journalist Emily Maitlis, The Crown actress Claire Foy, and TV presenter Jeremy Vine have all experienced similar stalking incidents.

A range of audience engagement

We connect to media figures in different ways, from deeply empathising with a cherished character’s experiences to feeling a sense of closeness with TV hosts who become a familiar presence in our lives. For example, a beloved TV character’s joys and sorrows might deeply resonate with audiences, leading to shared emotional experiences.

Sometimes we immerse ourselves in a character’s narrative to the extent that their joys and sorrows become intimately felt experiences (e.g., a deep sense of sadness when a beloved TV character undergoes a loss), regardless of their disparate backgrounds or life journeys.

Repeated exposure and personal disclosures from media personalities can create a sense of closeness in viewers, despite the lack of direct interaction, as when a TV host becomes a familiar presence in our daily lives. These connections, known as parasocial relationships, thrive on perceived intimacy but lack reciprocity.

Fandom, marked by intense admiration, elevates parasocial relationships to pedestals and becomes deeply ingrained in one’s identity. This devotion can extend beyond individual characters to entire shows or franchises, manifesting in activities like collecting merchandise and engaging with online fan communities.

Our ties to fictional characters, the actors embodying them, and influential media figures vary but collectively form a spectrum of audience involvement. This intricate web of seemingly harmless bonds can morph into toxic obsessions, as seen in the case of Emily Maitlis’ stalker, whose “unrequited love” for the former news anchor led to repeated breaches of a restraining order.

However, it is not merely a gradual escalation of these connections; rather, individuals (possibly battling mental health challenges) may harbour various motivations ranging from vengeance, retribution, and loneliness to resentment, a yearning for reconciliation, or a quest for control. They may hold delusions, such as “erotomania,” believing someone loves them and will eventually reciprocate. Their behaviour might stem from an obsessive fixation on a specific cause or issue.

In the complex realm of fandom culture, the law starts by recognising that beneath the celebrity veneer of flawless posts and red-carpet appearances lies a real person with vulnerabilities. Like everyone, they too deserve a zone of privacy which comprises different layers of protection.

The sanctum core

Picture your life as a mansion, with each room symbolising different facets: thoughts, emotions and personal endeavours. Encircling this mansion is a protective perimeter of a privacy zone, shielding specific aspects of your life from unwanted intrusion, be it by strangers, acquaintances, or the government. Maintaining the integrity of these restricted areas is left to a mixed legal environment encompassing civil remedies and criminal offences, including racially or religiously aggravated variants.

Secretly monitoring someone’s activities or lingering around their home without valid cause gravely endangers this zone. Claire Foy’s stalker, who had become “infatuated” with the actress, received a stalking protection order after appearing uninvited at her doorstep, leaving her “scared” of her doorbell ringing and feeling “helpless” in her own home. Sending unsolicited “gifts” is also associated with stalking, as demonstrated by Styles’ relentless pursuer who sent countless unsettling letters and hand-delivered two to the singer’s address, causing “serious alarm or distress”.

An intimate ecosystem

Importantly, the mansion’s private enclave embodies more than an inner sanctuary where people can live autonomously while shutting out the external world. Our private sphere also safeguards our personal growth and ability to nurture relationships, constituting a “private social life.”

When stalking rises to the level of inducing fear of violence or has a “substantial adverse effect” on someone’s regular activities, e.g., forcing a celebrity to make significant changes to their lifestyle, the law steps in to protect victims, including innocent bystanders who might experience direct intrusion themselves.

For example, Emily Maitlis’ stalker showed “breath-taking persistence” in contacting his victim and her mother, while Foy’s stalker had emailed the actress’ sister and texted her ex-boyfriend. Such conduct warrants legal intervention because it can severely impair someone’s ability to freely establish normal social networks and ultimately increases isolation, amplifying the disruptive impact on their support systems.

Advancements in communications technology have driven the surge in “cyberstalking”. For example, presenter Jeremy Vine’s stalker “weaponised the internet”, sending relentless emails identifying his home address and instilling fear for his family’s safety. Such digital variations of traditional stalking might also be pursued through communications offences, including the newly enacted “threatening communications” offence.

FOUR indicators

Behaviours may vary but they frequently exhibit a consistent pattern of Fixated, Obsessive, Unwanted and Repeated (FOUR) actions, violating not only a person’s inner circle privacy zone but also the outer sphere of their private social life.

While rooted in natural admiration for talent and charisma, celebrity worship can blur the line between harmless adoration and harmful obsession, particularly in an age dominated by social media that gives unprecedented access to our favourite stars. Legal boundaries delineate genuine appreciation from repetitive, oppressive conduct that jeopardises someone else’s well-being.

Essex Digital Verification Unit (DVU) contributes to Article 15 Communication to the ICC filed against Russian propagandists

Photo of the ICC (seated in The Hague) by Roel Wijnants on Flickr

On 6 June 2024, the International Federation of Human Rights (FIDH) filed an Article 15 Communication to the International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague, regarding speech crimes by Russian political and media figures, including Dmitry Medvedev, Dmitry Kiselyov, and Vladimir Solovyov. This marks an important step in the direction of accountability for hate speech and incitement to genocide.

The Communication, covering the period since the beginning of the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, was produced in conjunction with several organisations as co-contributors, including the Essex Digital Verification Unit (DVU). Over several months in early 2024, members of the DVU contributed to the project, analysing statements by Dmitry Kiselyov and Vladimir Solovyov to identify possible instances of incitement.

An Article 15 Communication is a submission to the Prosecutor of the ICC, which aims to draw their attention to possible human rights violations. The Communication outlines the situation, the individuals it is brought against, as well as the alleged crimes that the Communication proposes for investigation. The Prosecutor will consider the facts presented, and on their basis might decide to start an investigation of the activities mentioned, which, in turn, might lead to arrest warrants against the persons behind these activities.

Source: International Federation for Human Rights (FIDH)

As a result of the research, numerous inflammatory statements by these figures were identified and analysed. They included the denial of the existence of Ukrainians as a separate nation, accusations of Nazism towards Ukrainian leadership and citizens, as well as calls to carry on the war against Ukraine until the said “Nazism” is destroyed. All of these statements were recorded and forwarded to FIDH in order to be used in preparation of the Article 15 Communication.

“Hateful rhetoric has played a crucial role in Russia’s criminal campaign in Ukraine”, stated FIDH. It added that “Our organisations believe that in the context of crimes against humanity hate speech is a separate offense that warrants greater scrutiny by the International Criminal Court. Our Communication provides ample evidence substantiating the need to further investigate these acts and ultimately issue arrest warrants.”

Dr. Matthew Gillett, Senior Lecturer at Essex Law School and a leader of the Essex DVU, contributed to the writing of the Article 15 Communication itself, and its launch on 6 June 2024. As a former international prosecutor and the co-producer of the Hartford Guidelines on Speech Crimes under International Criminal Law, he was glad to see the guidelines used as a basis for this ground-breaking speech crimes Communication to the ICC.

The Essex DVU’s mission is to enhance global investigations into human rights violations through the application of open-source research methodologies. Its activities leverage the transformative advancements in digital communications technology in recent years, notably the ubiquitous use of social media platforms and smartphones, and the growing use of this technology to obtain evidence of human rights violations and atrocity crimes.

New communications offences enacted by the Online Safety Act 2023

Photo by Ravi Sharma on Unsplash

Dr. Alexandros Antoniou, Essex Law School

The Online Safety Act 2023 (OSA) introduced a range of measures intended to improve online safety in the UK, including duties on internet platforms about having systems and processes in place to manage illegal and harmful content on their sites. On 31 January 2024, Part 10 of the Act came into effect, introducing a series of new criminal offences which represent a significant leap forward in tackling complex challenges surrounding online communications safety.

Section 179 of the OSA establishes the criminal offence of sending false communications and seeks to target, among others, internet trolls. It is now deemed an offence if an individual (a) sends a message containing knowingly false information; (b) intends, at the time of sending, to cause non-trivial psychological or physical harm to a likely audience; and (c) lacks a reasonable excuse for sending the message. Recognised news publishers and broadcasters are exempt. The offence does not apply to public screenings of cinema films either. It can be committed by individuals outside the UK if they are habitually resident in England, Wales, or Northern Ireland. Penalties include imprisonment for up to six months, a fine, or both. It is hoped the new offence will help clamp down on disinformation and election interference online.

Section 181 establishes the criminal offence of sending threatening communications. This is committed when an individual sends a message containing a threat of death, serious harm (e.g. bodily injury, rape, assault by penetration), or serious financial loss, with the intent to instil fear in the recipient that the threat will be carried out (whether by the sender or someone else). In cases of threats involving financial loss, a defence is available if the threat was used to support a reasonable demand, and the sender reasonably believed it was an appropriate way to reinforce that demand. This offence applies to individuals residing in England, Wales, or Northern Ireland, even if the sender is located outside the UK. Penalties include up to five years of imprisonment, a fine, or both. In March 2024, Essex law enforcement achieved a significant milestone by obtaining one of the earliest convictions under the new OSA, resulting in an eight-month jail sentence for Karn Statham. Statham harassed a woman by sending threatening messages and making repeated visits to her address after being instructed to cease contact.

A new criminal offence under section 183, dubbed “Zach’s law”, aims to protect people from “epilepsy trolling”. The campaign against such conduct began when eight-year-old Zach, who has epilepsy, was raising funds for the Epilepsy Society. Trolls inundated the Society’s profile with images and GIFs meant to induce seizures in people with epilepsy. While Zach was unharmed, others with the condition reported seizures after engaging with the fundraiser online. The Act creates the offence of deliberately sending or showing flashing images to individuals with epilepsy with the intent to cause harm, defined as inducing a seizure, alarm, or distress. Particular conditions (specified in the Act) must be met before a conviction is secured, both in respect to sending and showing flashing images electronically. Recognised news publishers, broadcasters, public screenings of cinema films as well as healthcare professionals cannot be guilty of this offence (which can similarly be committed by individuals outside the UK if they are habitually resident in England, Wales, or Northern Ireland). Penalties include imprisonment for up to five years, a fine, or both.

Moreover, section 184 outlaws encouraging or assisting serious self-harm. To be guilty of this offence, an individual must perform an act intended to encourage or assist serious self-harm in another person, whether through direct communication, publication or sending (or giving) items with stored electronic data. Serious self-harm encompasses actions leading to grievous bodily harm, including acts of omission such as encouraging someone to neglect their health regimen. The identity of the person harmed need not be known to the offender. The offence can occur regardless of whether self-harm is carried out and it is irrelevant who created the content in question (it is the sending that matters). The offence is punishable by imprisonment for up to five years, a fine, or both, and likewise, it applies to individuals habitually resident in England, Wales, or Northern Ireland, even if they are outside the UK.

Cyber-flashing on dating apps, AirDrop and other platforms will also result in perpetrators facing up to two years in prison. Section 187 of the Act introduces a new offence under the Sexual Offences Act 2003 pertaining to the sending of photographs or films of a person’s genitals to another individual. A person (A) is deemed to commit the offence if they intentionally send or provide a photo or video of another person’s genitals to another individual (B) under the following conditions: either A intends for B to view the genitals and experience alarm, distress, or humiliation; or A sends or provides such material with the aim of obtaining sexual gratification and is reckless as to whether B will experience alarm, distress, or humiliation. “Sending” covers sending through any means, including electronic methods, showing it to another person, or placing it for someone to find. A conviction for this offence could also lead to inclusion on the sex offenders’ register. In February 2024, an Essex Police team secured the UK’s first cyber-flashing conviction, with Nicholas Hawkes pleading guilty to sending explicit images via WhatsApp to cause distress. On 19 March 2024, Hawkes was sentenced to 66 weeks in prison. He was also made subject to a restraining order for 10 years and a Sexual Harm Prevention Order for 15 years.

Finally, the OSA repeals the legislation first introduced to tackle ‘revenge porn’ offences (sections 33-35 of the Criminal Justice and Courts Act 2015) and introduces a set of intimate image sharing offences. Specifically, section 188 of the OSA introduces a new base offence of sharing of intimate images without consent, carrying a penalty of imprisonment for up to six months. This applies when an individual intentionally shares an image portraying another person in an intimate context without their consent and without a reasonable belief in consent. Two more serious offences are established on top of that, both reflecting the offender’s higher culpability and carrying greater penalties: namely (a) intentionally causing alarm, distress, or humiliation to the person in the image; and (b) seeking sexual gratification from the act (these are outlined in sections 66B(2) and (3) of the Sexual Offences Act 2003). Threatening to share an intimate image of a person has also been made an offence where the perpetrator either intends to cause fear that the threat will be carried out or acts recklessly in doing so (this is found under section 66B(4) of the aforementioned 2003 Act). The new offences also fall under the sexual offender notification requirements. These new intimate image offences are also designed to tackle “deepfakes” and “down-blousing” (i.e. capturing images typically of a person’s chest area, from a downward angle, often without their knowledge or consent). They also come with various exemptions (outlined under section 66C of the Sexual Offences Act 2003), e.g. where the photograph or film involves a child and is of a kind normally shared among family and friends.

While there is some overlap between existing offences, the new offences consolidate previous ones or address gaps. For example, the intimate image sharing offence widens the meaning of the photographs or films, from “private sexual” to “intimate” and makes it easier for those caught sharing such content online without the other person’s consent to be prosecuted, as it removes the requirement for any harm to be intended to the subject of the photograph or film. The updated guidance of the Crown Prosecution Service aims to delineate the appropriate charge for each circumstance. The introduction of the new offences is anticipated to fortify protections against online misconduct.


This article was first published on the IRIS Merlin database and is reproduced here with permission and thanks.

Brianna Ghey’s Murder: Unpacking Transphobia, Offender Anonymity, and the Impact of Sentencing Remarks

By Dr. Dimitris Akrivos, University of Surrey, and Dr Alexandros Antoniou, University of Essex

This blog post first appeared on The International Forum for Responsible Media Blog on February 27th 2024.

Photo via Shutterstock

The death of 16-year-old Brianna Ghey at Culcheth Linear Park in February 2023 sent shockwaves across the United Kingdom. On 20 December 2023, Scarlett Jenkinson and Eddie Ratcliffe were found guilty of Brianna’s murder, subsequently receiving life imprisonment sentences on 2 February 2024.

From the brutality of the crime to the debate over whether the perpetrators’ names should have been published and the speculation about the potential influence of violent media on their actions as to whether their acts had been influenced by violent media, this case is reminiscent of James Bulger’s murder over three decades ago. A notable difference, however, is that the victim in this case was a transgender girl.

Brianna’s murder against the backdrop of the trans rights debate

Official figures reveal a concerning surge in police-recorded transphobic hate crimes in England and Wales in recent years (11% up from the year before in 2022/23 and a staggering 186% rise over the last five years).  The latest Home Office report acknowledges that comments made by politicians and incendiary media discussions on trans issues might have contributed to this trend. In the current socio-political climate, where the polarisation between trans and women’s rights groups over gender self-identification can reach ‘toxic’ levels, there is a serious risk that victims like Brianna Ghey will – as the domestic abuse commissioner Nicole Jacobs warned – be ‘denied their dignity’.

Recognising the role transphobia has played in this violent crime is vital to tackling that risk. Yet, The Times were quick to ‘deadname’ Brianna, i.e. report the news of her murder using the victim’s pre-transition (male) name, triggering a strong backlash by trans advocates. Similarly, BBC News and Sky News also faced criticisms for initially failing to mention the victim was trans. Meanwhile, Fair Play for Women, a gender-critical campaign group which views sex as immutable, argued that the victim’s transgender identity was not relevant to stories about her murder and should have been omitted from them. Notably, Cheshire police did not consider the murder to have been motivated by hatred against Brianna’s transgender identity. DCS Mike Evans explained that Jenkinson and Ratcliffe had previously discussed killing other children, suggesting that, had they not been able to kill Brianna, they would have found another victim.

Why did Brianna’s murderers not remain anonymous?

Due to the defendants’ age, restrictions were in place throughout the trial to prevent the publication of any information likely to reveal the identities of the two perpetrators as the defendants in these proceedings. However, some controversy arose when the decision was made to publicly name the two teenagers at their sentencing. Mrs Justice Yip took the unusual step to revoke anonymity orders shielding the assailants’ identities, following an application by press representatives.

As there has been some misunderstanding around this issue, it is worth explaining how the anonymity orders worked in Brianna’s case. It will be recalled that the two perpetrators were tried before the Manchester Crown court, which is an adult criminal court – not a youth court (of note, a young person charged with murder cannot be tried or sentenced by a youth court because of the seriousness of the charge).  While there is no automatic ban on identifying individuals under 18 as being concerned in the proceedings of adult criminal courts, section 45 of the Youth Justice and Criminal Evidence Act 1999 empowers criminal courts to grant anonymity to a juvenile defendant, victim or witness in adult criminal proceedings while they remain under the age of 18. This power is not available to youth courts. The intention of Parliament in enacting this provision was to widen the scope of protection available to under-18s.

Section 45 allows an adult criminal court to impose a discretionary reporting restriction. If the court so wishes, it can choose to impose no restrictions at all. The law draws, therefore, a distinction between young people appearing in youth courts, who are automatically entitled to anonymity, and those appearing in adult criminal courts, who must seek a discretionary reporting restriction.

This is critical. It means that in a youth court, there must be a good reason for lifting the anonymity order which applies by default, whereas under section 45 of the 1999 Act, there must be a good reason for imposing – or continuing with the imposition of – the anonymity order. So, in the case of section 45, there is a strong presumption in favour of open justice, placing the burden of justifying reporting restrictions on the party seeking to derogate from this fundamental principle.

The defendants in Brianna Ghey’s case, both 16 at the time of their conviction, would lose the anonymity protection upon reaching adulthood in 2025 by operation of the law. In the meantime, however, a court may consider lifting or relaxing restrictions in two circumstances: either when the court is satisfied that doing so is ‘necessary in the interests of justice’ (section 45(4)); or when it is satisfied that the reporting restriction unduly limits the coverage of the proceedings and it is ‘in the public interest’ to remove or modify the restriction (section 45(5)). A list of factors to be considered in an assessment of where the public interest lies in such situations is provided in section 52 of the Act.

No judge takes such decisions lightly. As the Court of Appeal has previously emphasised, judges are tasked with meticulously weighing the competing public interest factors at play on the particular circumstances before them. So, neither the open justice principle nor a young person’s best interests automatically dictate the conclusion in a given case. Pre-conviction and during the trial, a defendant’s welfare is likely to take precedence over the public interest in disclosure. However, post-conviction and sentencing, factors such as the offenders’ age and the severity of the crime acquire particular relevance in determining whether publication is warranted.

As Mrs Justice Yip observed in Brianna’s case, ‘the shock generated by [her] murder and the circumstances of it has spread well beyond the local community, across the nation and indeed internationally. The public will naturally wish to know the identities of the young people responsible as they seek to understand how children could do something so dreadful. Continuing restrictions inhibits full and informed debate and restricts the full reporting’ of an ‘exceptional’ case.

But the lifting of the discretionary reporting restrictions under section 45 was driven not only by the sustained public interest in knowing the identity of Brianna’s murderers, but also because of the likelihood of continued media attention regardless of the timing of disclosure as well as the defendants’ extended custody and rehabilitation process into adulthood. While acknowledging the distress to the defendants’ families, Mrs Justice Yip underlined that the powers under section 45 were not designed for convicted defendants’ family members, and the risk of harassment to the defendants’ families was deemed likely regardless of the timing of identification. It was the combination of all these considerations that favoured publication.

Sentencing in Brianna’s murder as a catalyst for confronting transphobia

Brianna’s murderers were named the day they were sentenced for her murder. Even though Cheshire police had dismissed transphobia as a motivating factor, Mrs Justice Yip expressly recognised in her sentencing remarks that the crime had been, at least partly, driven by hostility towards Brianna’s trans identity. Distinguishing between the young offenders’ motivations, the judge determined that Jenkinson was primarily seeking to act out her ‘sadistic’ fantasies and had a ‘deep desire to kill’ while Ratcliffe was, in part, driven by transphobic sentiments. This hostility towards trans people had, according to the judge, been ‘undoubtedly displayed’ in the dehumanising language Ratcliffe used in the WhatsApp messages he had sent to Jenkinson, in which he described Brianna as a ‘femboy thing’ or ‘it’, revealing that he wanted to ‘see if it will scream like a man or a girl’.

Such messages make for a harrowing read and it is easy or even convenient for our society to brush off the transphobia reflected in them as merely the hateful words of one ‘bad apple’. The truth is, however, that Brianna Ghey’s murder has shed light on a harsh reality: abuse often becomes a distressing aspect of vulnerable trans individuals’ lives, even if this does not always escalate to extreme violence. The Conservative Government’s and the UK mainstream media’s trans-othering rhetoric has been repeatedly criticised by several international human rights organisations. Indicatively, the Council of Europe’s Commissioner for Human Rights, Dunja Mijatović, warned of the risks deriving from an ‘increasingly toxic’ anti-trans political and media discourse built upon ‘deeply discriminatory stereotypes […] based on ideas of predatory determinism.’ This ‘culture war’ against trans people has also been cited by the International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans and Intersex Association as one of the reasons behind the UK’s continuous drop in its annual rankings for LGBT rights across Europe.

During PM Questions on 7 February 2024, Rishi Sunak faced a backlash after his remark about Labour leader Keir Starmer’s purported difficulty in ‘defining a woman’ while Brianna’s mother was in the public gallery during the exchange. Trans allies, including Brianna’s father Peter Spooner, expressed ‘shock’ and ‘disgust’ towards the PM’s ‘degrading comments’, calling for an apology which Sunak has refused to offer. Amid the increasing tensions between the two main political parties, it is vital that trans people’s lives are not reduced to a bargaining chip in their bid to win the upcoming general election. Despite the tragic circumstances surrounding Brianna’s murder, her story has the potential to catalyse a wider and more constructive dialogue on the consequences of ‘othering’ an already marginalised community. There are undoubtedly valuable lessons to be gleaned from this landmark case. The pertinent question remains: are our leaders prepared to heed them?

Dr. Dimitris Akrivos, University of Surrey, d.akrivos@surrey.ac.uk, Dr. Alexandros Antoniou, University of Essex,  a.antoniou@essex.ac.uk

100 Years of the Infanticide Act: A Legacy of Controversy and Compassion

Image via Shutterstock

Despite being rarely used, the Infanticide Act of England and Wales has generated much attention, scrutiny, and debate. This unique and contentious legislation, passed a century ago and re-enacted in 1938, has shaped the way society views and responds to a deeply complex issue – infanticide. 

Now, in a milestone year marking a century of its existence, a thought-provoking book, “100 Years of the Infanticide Act: Legacy, Impact, and Future Directions,” edited by Dr. Karen Brennan (Associate Professor in Criminal Law and Evidence at the University of Essex) and Dr. Emma Milne (Associate Professor in Criminal Law and Criminal Justice at Durham University), offers a comprehensive analysis of this law and its far-reaching implications.

“100 Years of the Infanticide Act” presents the first-ever comprehensive and detailed analysis of this historic legislation, shedding light on its historical context, contemporary application, and its enduring influence. 

The book explores critical themes surrounding the legislation, from its practical implications in England and Wales to the ways it has been portrayed in the British media. It examines the justifications for, and criticisms of, the special mitigation afforded to women who kill their biological infants within the first year of life. 

Many countries around the world drew on the 1922/1938 models of infanticide law and enacted similar legislation. In addition to its focus on England and Wales, the book extends its scope to international jurisdictions, such as Australia, Ireland, Sweden and the United States of America.

The Research Visibility Team had the privilege of interviewing Dr. Karen Brennan, one of the co-editors of the book and we are excited to share our exclusive insights into her book and how it reverberates around the globe. We found out more about her inspiration behind this collection, what struck her most while working on the project and some of key takeaways readers can expect from this significant publication.

Can you share with us the inspiration and motivation behind the book on the Infanticide Act and its impact in England and Wales? What drove you (and your co-editor) to explore this unique and controversial legislation?

The Infanticide Act 1922 was the first statute to specifically create an offence/defence of “infanticide” in the common law world. Prior to its enactment, women who killed their babies were subject to the law on murder which carried a mandatory death penalty. However, sympathy for infanticidal women – due to the circumstances in which they committed the offence – resulted in widespread reluctance to subject them to the capital penalty. 

The infanticide statute was enacted to address the problems that arose from this by formalising popular feelings of mercy towards women who killed their newborn babies. The law was re-enacted in 1938 and extended to cover victims up to the age of 12 months. The basis on which mercy was granted was that the balance of the mother’s mind had been disturbed by reason of the effect of giving birth or the effect of lactation consequent upon birth. Although infanticide is punishable by life imprisonment, women convicted of this crime are rarely imprisoned. 

I have been researching the topic of infanticide laws for over 20 years now and it still continues to fascinate me! A century on from the enactment of the first infanticide statute, there is much to reflect on – especially given the significantly changed social and legal landscape. The infanticide law is unique – it creates both an offence/defence, and it is the only sex-specific homicide offence/defence in our criminal law. 

When it was first introduced, the infanticide law, which pre-dated the enactment of the partial defence of diminished responsibility in this jurisdiction, sought to do something that had never before been done by parliament. It created an exception to the law on murder by allowing for lenient treatment of a specific category of killer – the biological mother of an infant. 

Academic scholarship over the last few decades has produced much criticism of the law. For example, the medical basis of the law has been challenged; feminists criticise the law for being paternalistic and bio-determinist; and the law is also critiqued for undermining the right to life of infants. One of the core issues in the law today is whether it is appropriate to provide for mercy for the biological mother of the victim, but not other parents. It is often suggested that the defence of diminished responsibility would be the more appropriate way to show leniency in cases where mothers kill their infants today. 

Since the crime is thankfully not common, the Infanticide Act is rarely used. However, some recent cases reported in the media indicate that the law isn’t being used in situations where the facts would traditionally have fit the typical infanticide scenario and where the infanticide statute would in the past have been employed. This raises questions about the meaning of the law and whether it has value today in cases where women kill their babies.  

Both Emma Milne (who co-edited the book) and I have come at this subject from a particular perspective – drawing on socio-historical and feminist approaches – and we favour retention of this law. We argue in one of our chapters that the unique hardships that women experience as a consequence of pregnancy/childbirth and mothering justify the Infanticide Act 1938. 

One of the purposes of the book, however, was to bring together different voices and perspectives on this law – including from scholars who do not agree/agree fully with our position! We wanted to stimulate discussion and generate new insights into this law from other scholars who have written about this law in the past, and also to bring newer voices into the debate. 

We also wanted to include an international dimension by including research from other jurisdictions which have similar infanticide statutes (e.g., in Australia) and those which do not (e.g., the USA).  

As the book delves into the history, impact, and legacy of the Infanticide Act, could you tell us about any surprising findings or moments during your research or writing process that particularly stood out to you? Did this project change your perspective on the subject matter and if so, how?

One of the things that struck me working on this project was the fact that the Infanticide Act continues to generate debate, and that there is still so much more academic work to be done! I was also struck by how views on this law are very much informed by the approach taken to the issue – for example, those who look at the history, or at the social context of this crime, often have different views of this law compared to scholars who come at it from a doctrinal or theoretical perspective. 

This project didn’t change my perspective on infanticide. I have always strongly supported this law (despite recognising its flaws!) because it can provide justice for very vulnerable women who kill their babies at times of intense mental/emotional anguish or mental ill-health. 

However, I did realise through working on this project that much more work needs to be done in terms of exploring the meaning of the law as it stands today and the sorts of cases where it should be used. 

Linked to this, I also realised that there is a need to explore how we can continue to justify the Infanticide Act’s existence in the 21st century – given how much has changed in law and society over the last 100 years. 

The 1938 Act covers two quite different kinds of infanticide, neonaticide (the killing of a baby within 24 hours of birth) and the killing of older babies. I have no doubt that we need this law to cover situations where women kill their babies at birth following a concealed pregnancy.  This sort of case would struggle to fit within the requirements of diminished responsibility and without the infanticide statute women who kill their babies at birth (women who are incredibly vulnerable but who are usually not mentally ill) face the prospect of a murder conviction and life sentence. 

My involvement in this edited collection, however, did prompt me to think about whether we do need a special law to cover the killing of older babies by women who are mentally unwell, especially when the diminished responsibility law is available. My inclination based on my previous research is that we do need the Infanticide Act for this category of infanticide too, despite the availability of diminished responsibility. 

However, more research is needed around exploring why this is so, and especially what contemporary justifications could be put forward for retaining this sex-specific law – particularly on the issue of whether it is appropriate to have a law that applies only to the biological mother. This is our next planned project! 

The book features insights from leading experts in the field and touches on infanticide laws around the world. Could you tell us a bit more about the global implications of the Infanticide Act and how you see the future of such legislation evolving in different jurisdictions? What are some of the key takeaways readers can expect from your book in this regard?

Several jurisdictions introduced infanticide statutes based on the 1922/1938 Acts – Canada, a number of Australian jurisdictions, the Republic of Ireland, Hong Kong, to name but a few. Law commissions in several jurisdictions have considered infanticide laws in recent decades, with some suggesting it be abolished, while others have sought to amend the law to address criticisms of it. 

Legislatures in some jurisdictions have amended the law to address concerns with it – for example, with regard to ensuring the medical basis reflects contemporary medical understandings of mental illness after birth (such as in Victoria, Australia, and in the Republic of Ireland). Western Australia recently abolished its infanticide law. 

There is no special infanticide law in the USA, and many scholars have written on this issue and the problems that arise from the lack of special legislation to deal with these unique cases – but also the difficulty of framing and justifying different treatment of this offender. Often the Infanticide Act 1938 is drawn on in these discussions as an example of a better way to respond to this crime.  

I think one of the key takeaways from the book is the fact that there is still so much about this law that we have yet to understand, and, related to this, how little this law has been tested in the courts in England and Wales. 

We need more awareness of and discussion on this law – the fact that it is so rarely used means that many law students and legal practitioners know very little about it, and this may lead to assumptions and misunderstandings about the law. 

So, more needs to be done in terms of academic research, but also to engage with legal practitioners to share our findings and hopefully have an impact on how the law is used and interpreted. 

Looking Ahead

As society evolves and legal systems adapt, the future of infanticide laws remains a subject of debate and contemplation. This book provides a platform for scholars, practitioners, and policymakers to explore the possibilities for reform and development in the context of infanticide legislation.

The legacy, impact, and future directions of the Infanticide Act continue to evolve, and this book will undoubtedly be a touchstone for those seeking clarity and insight into a legal landscape fraught with complexity. For a more in-depth exploration of this topic, “100 Years of the Infanticide Act” is available now, providing a thought-provoking journey through a century of legal history and societal change.

Accountability for Digital Harm Under International Criminal Law: In Conversation With Sarah Zarmsky

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Sarah Zarmsky, PhD Candidate and Assistant Lecturer at the Human Rights Centre, is a recipient of the 2023-2024 Modern Law Review Scholarship for her PhD thesis ‘Accountability for Digital Harm Under International Criminal Law’, supervised by Professor Carla Ferstman (University of Essex) and Dr Daragh Murray (Queen Mary University of London).

Sarah was awarded the Mike Redmayne Scholarship, instituted in memory of past MLR Committee Member Professor Mike Redmayne, which is presented to the best applicant in the fields of Criminal Law and the Law of Evidence (and related fields).

Modern Law Review Scholarships are prestigious awards provided to doctoral researchers in the United Kingdom and are funded by the Modern Law Review. Sarah is the first candidate from the University of Essex to receive the scholarship!

The research visibility team talked to Sarah about her success and took the opportunity to find out more about her plans:

This is an impressive achievement. How does it feel to bring this award to the University of Essex for the first time?

Thank you! It feels great, I’m very proud of it and to be part of such an impressive group of recipients. It’s very rewarding to have your research, that you invest so much hard work in, be recognised by others, especially by a journal as reputable as the Modern Law Review.

Could you tell us a bit more about your research? What gaps or shortcomings have you identified when it comes to addressing digital harm in the context of international criminal law?

My research examines how digital harm with relevance to the perpetration of international crimes may or may not be accommodated within existing international criminal law frameworks. Where criminalization may not be appropriate or feasible, it identifies possible alternatives for obtaining justice for victims of digital harms, such as through corporate criminal liability or regulatory frameworks.

I think the main takeaway so far is that the law has not yet ‘caught up’ with new ways of inflicting harm through technology, and depending on the type of harm, international criminalisation may or may not be the answer. There are some digital harms where we can see a clear link to existing international crimes, such as online hate speech and incitement to genocide, or sharing footage of crimes as an outrage upon personal dignity. It will be harder to accommodate more ‘novel’ types of harms, such as algorithmic harms or digital mass surveillance with ICL as it stands, so I am entering the stage of my research where I explore complementary strategies for achieving justice for victims of those harms.

In a single sentence, how would you summarise the importance of your research when describing it to an undergraduate student?

New technologies are important for advancing accountability for international crimes, but they also create new ways to perpetrate existing crimes or entirely new crimes, so this research is important in laying the foundation for future discussions as to how international criminal law can best accommodate digital harms.

With the evolving nature of digital threats and the global nature of the internet, how can international cooperation and collaboration be fostered to ensure effective accountability mechanisms for digital harm? Are there any notable examples or initiatives you could share that illustrate promising efforts in this area?

This is a complex question, but to answer it briefly, I would stress that as an international community, we need to be recognizing how harmful new technologies can be if used maliciously and that these harms are grave enough to be international crimes. I think sometimes the technology aspect can be roped in with other more ‘traditional’ offences and not treated as crimes on their own, which can result in less tailored justice for victims.

There are some promising developments in domestic war crimes trials, such as in The Netherlands, Germany, and Sweden, where individuals have been convicted and sentenced for war crimes for sharing degrading footage of executions on social media. I think these are positive developments because they serve the expressive function of recognizing how humiliating and degrading it can be to share footage of people in their most vulnerable states, and send a message that this is a serious crime.

This has not yet happened at an international criminal court or tribunal, but with the rise of open-source evidence initiatives at the ICC for example, I think it could definitely be a possibility going forward.

Do you anticipate your research will influence policy and if so, how?

I hope that my research can provide guidance for how ICL lawmakers and practitioners can ensure that the law keeps up with the times to fully address new ways of inflicting harm through technological means. My goal is to bring these issues to light and hopefully spark discussions within the ICL community about how we can account for digital harms moving forward.

Which direction do you see your research going in the future and why?

I’m now entering the third year of my PhD, during which I plan to apply my research thus far to one or two case examples and be able to highlight how the theory might work in practice, which I think will be really valuable. After the PhD, I would like to continue in this realm of ICL, human rights, and new technologies, perhaps delving deeper into one of the specific digital harms with a nexus to international criminal law that I have identified in the thesis.

Unbreakable Shields: Some Tips to Safeguard Your Digital Realm

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By Dr. Audrey Guinchard, Senior Lecturer, Essex Law School

In the vast and interconnected realm of the digital age, our lives have become intrinsically linked to the virtual world. From online banking to social media interactions, our personal and professional activities have found a new home in cyberspace. However, as we embrace the convenience and opportunities offered by the digital revolution, we must also acknowledge the shadows of cyber threats that pose a constant risk to our security.

We live in an era where sophisticated hackers and malicious actors continuously exploit vulnerabilities, seeking to breach our defences and gain unauthorized access to our sensitive information. We have all heard of viruses, ransomwares, phishing attacks, scams… but it’s not always easy to keep on top of best cybersecurity practices in our daily, busy, lives.

Who has never delayed updating their operating systems (OS) for a few days because of the sheer inconvenience of having to stop working and using the digital device for a solid 20 mins?

And what about these annoying passwords? Who never got frustrated when not remembering an obscure combination of letters, numbers and special characters in no logical order? Even the author who recommended this form of password management back in 2003 has regretted his initial advice!

And, how about the apparently preposterous advice of not re-using passwords when one has to remember about 70 to 100 passwords?

The consequences of a successful cyber-attack can be devastating, leading to financial losses, identity theft, and irreparable damage to our digital lives. So,  what is a good starting point for good cybersecurity practices? None is, on its own, fail-proof. It’s their combination that will often delay the attacker who, discouraged, will turn towards easier targets/victims. It’s also about minimising the impact our mistakes may have.

Start with an audit of your practices, so that you know where to begin. The easiest is to answer the questionnaire on the UK National Cybersecurity Centre (NCSC) website: its Cyber Action Plan. It is a truly 1 or 2 min questionnaire; the questions may seem basic but they cut at the heart of the top best practices we can put in place. And follow their detailed advice on what you need to do, advice based on your answers.

Pay particular attention to your passwords. The question to ask oneself is always: if somebody has access to this password, what can they retrieve and find out? Will the password give them access to my bank account? Or to a work account? Or to social media? Or to the three of them?

You can notably check here whether the password has been compromised: or whether the same has happened to your email address here.

You may want to consider a password manager but be aware: your password manager tends to store your data online, so your password data is not immune to hacking, as it happened to the leading company of LastPass in 2022, which won’t be the last.

So, the question is: do you really need this password to be stored online?

For example, if you only do your tax return from home, do you need to save online your password and ID number for HMRC? Because you know that whoever has your HMRC details may well be able to access lots of government services and impersonate you. And ID theft is no fun!

For iPhone users, disable access to the control centre when your phone is locked; otherwise, even with your screen locked, you are giving control of your phone. To do so, go to your Settings, then Face ID (or Touch ID) and passcode, then scroll down to ‘allow access when locked’ (under the voice dial feature) and disable ‘control centre’, ‘accessories’, ‘wallet’.

We all make mistakes; we are humans after all! But the cost of weak cybersecurity practices is ID theft and lost data, for ourselves and for those we correspond with. So, do not delay your NCSC security audit and follow it up! By adopting some proactive strategies, we can take decisive steps towards protecting ourselves and preserving the sanctity of our digital identities.

The Online Safety Bill: Where Are We Now and Will It Succeed?

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The House of Lords is currently debating at Committee Stage the Online Safety Bill, a landmark piece of legislation which introduces a new set of internet laws to protect children and adults from online harms.

The Bill will establish a regulatory framework for certain online services. These include user-to-user services, such as Instagram, Twitter and Facebook, and search services, such as Google.

The UK government’s stated aim in introducing the Bill is “to make Britain the best place in the world to set up and run a digital business, while simultaneously ensuring that Britain is the safest place in the world to be online”.

The BIll will place duties of care on both regulated user-to-user service providers and regulated search service providers. The regulated service providers would have duties relating to, among other things: (a) illegal content; (b) protecting children; (c) user empowerment; (d) content of democratic importance, news publisher content and journalistic content; (e) freedom of expression and privacy; and (f) fraudulent advertising.

The Bill also does two other distinct but interconnected things. It introduces age-verification requirements in relation to pornography providers (which are not user-to-user); as well as new criminal offences, e.g., encouraging self-harm and epilepsy trolling.

This makes it a long, wide-ranging and complex Bill.

Moreover, the Bill will place more responsibility on technology giants to keep their users safe. It will give Ofcom, the UK’s communications regulator, the power to levy fines against non-compliant providers, and would make senior managers liable to imprisonment for not complying with a direction to provide Ofcom with information.

But what impact is the BIll expected to have? What concerns are there about the implementation of this new regime?

Prof. Lorna Woods (Professor of Internet Law, University of Essex), who devised the systems-based approach to online regulation that has been adopted by the Government and whose work is widely regarded as laying the groundwork for the UK’s Online Safety Bill, was recently interviewed on this new regulatory approach.

Photo by Austin Distel via Unsplash

On 11 May 2023, Prof. Woods stepped inside BBC Radio 4’s Briefing Room to be interviewed by David Aaronovitch. She talked about what is actually in the Bill, how the new internet laws are intended to work and what potential weaknesses still remain. The programme can be accessed here.

Prof. Woods also joined Conan D’Arcy of the Global Counsel tech policy team to talk about the UK tech regulation, discuss recent criticisms of the Online Safety Bill, as well as the regulation of generative AI tools like ChatGPT. You can listen to the podcast here (published on 17 May 2023).

A Study on Ignorance and Blame

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The adage ‘ignorance of the law is no excuse’ is significantly inaccurate. Ignorance and mistake of law do, under certain circumstances, exclude responsibility both in national and international criminal law.

Dr. Antonio Coco‘s recently published monograph The Defence of Mistake of Law in International Criminal Law updates the existing reviews of law and practice on the topic, aiming to go a step further: it takes the analysis of mistake of law as a starting point for systematic observations about international criminal law in general.

First, the book defines the contours of the defence of mistake of law in the general theory of criminal law, distinguishing it from cognate defences and highlighting, most notably, its connection with superior orders.

Secondly, it gives an overview of the possible approaches to the defence, offering examples from national law as terms of reference for the subsequent analysis of international criminal law.

Thirdly, it surveys the relevant law and practice of international criminal tribunals, with a focus on the International Criminal Court, and it contemplates offences for which a defence of mistake of law may potentially succeed.

Finally, the author tries to interpret what the rules on mistake of law applicable before international criminal tribunals imply about the purpose of punishing individuals and the legitimacy of such punishment.

Published by OUP

Whilst the discourse on international criminal law is more and more concerned with global politics, The Defence of Mistake of Law in International Criminal Law brings back the focus on the appropriateness of imposing a guilty verdict on the individual defendant, a human being constituting the basic unit of each society.

The Criminalisation of Cybercrime: Connected Dots and Blind Spots in the Development of Legal Instruments

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Building on her 15-year research on cybercrime, Dr. Audrey Guinchard, Senior Lecturer at the Essex Law School, gave a presentation on the criminalisation of cybercrime at the 2022 Society of Legal Scholars (SLS) Conference, held on 6-9 September at King’s College London.

In her paper, Dr. Guinchard explained that regulating crime is the traditional domain of nation states; cybercrime is no exception. The first legal instruments to tackle computer-focused crimes (e.g., unauthorised access or hacking) date back to the seventies and eighties. Yet, international institutions such as the OECD and the Council of Europe have quickly recognised the transborder nature of cybercrime, keen to push for the creation of a level-playing field and better cooperation among nation-states. In fact, we could even argue that international efforts of criminalisation are concomitant, if not anticipatory, of national legal instruments on cybercrime.

Dr. Guinchard pointed out that what is less known behind this push for harmonisation is the role of the computing community, a scientific community which has international dialogue at its heart and which has frequently engaged with legal professionals more than legal professionals have engaged with computer scientists. These key features of the criminalisation of cybercrime continue to shape modern legislation as the movement for reforming the UK Computer Misuse Act demonstrates.

Yet, Dr. Guinchard emphasised that blind spots remain: comparative law analyses can be superficial; the international outlook remained dominated by Western/European countries, ignoring the many voices of Asia, Africa and Latin America; the link between improving cybersecurity and decreasing cybercrime remains unappreciated; and criminalisation can carry hidden agendas which turn the fight against cybercrime into a battleground of values, as the recent push for the UN treaty on cybercrime illustrates.

So, if the transborder nature of cybercrime has long been a rallying cry for its worldwide criminalisation, the resulting legal frameworks continue to be subjected to various influences and forces, acknowledged and unacknowledged, leading to a paucity of information as to how effective the law is in tackling cybercrime. Dr. Guinchard argued that reflecting on those pathways to criminalisation may allow us to move away from these hypes and understatements which have marred the field since its inception.

A copy of Dr. Guinchard’s slides can be downloaded below. She can be contacted at this email address: abguin@essex.ac.uk.