The #MeToo movement has brought issues of sexual violence to the forefront of national conversation in the United States. The hashtag was founded by Tarana Burke in 2006, but gained greater traction in October of 2017 when allegations against Harvey Weinstein were publicly brought forward (Johnson and Hawbaker 2018). In light of the #MeToo movement, we as a society are being forced to ask: What is the best way to deal with this rampant violence? Transformative justice and restorative justice provide possible answers to this question.
According to Fredrick and Lizdas (2010): “Restorative justice [RJ] emphasizes repairing harms rather than punishing crimes, giving victims and offenders the opportunity to engage in dialogue around the harm, assessing the impact on the victim, and outlining the steps necessary to ensure offender accountability and meet the victims’ needs” (41-45 cited in Armatta 2018:12). Nocella (2011) lays out the “core philosophy of transformative justice” which includes the points that “TJ is against violence and punishment, institutionalization and imprisonment” and “believes in the value of mediation, negotiation, and community circles to transform conflict” (6 cited in Armatta 2018:13).
Restorative and transformative justice provide alternatives to the current legal system of the United States, which many groups and individuals, including Generation Five and the now disbanded Philly Stands Up, argue creates further harm instead of fixing the problem of sexual violence (Armatta 2018; Griner 2018; Kelly 2011; Kershnar et al. 2007; Pérez 2017; Press 2018; Tran 2017).
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Written well before the recent popularity of #MeToo, Roger Lancaster’s Sex Panic and the Punitive State (2011), provides a historical analysis of the United States’ movement towards the increasing punishment of certain types of sexual violence and perceived deviance. His discussion illuminates the possible consequences of responses to #MeToo that rely on legal punishment. Arguments against such strategies have been voiced by many advocates within the domain of restorative and transformative justice, as exemplified by several recent articles: “5 Transformative Justice Experts on What We Should Do with ‘Sexual Predators’ in our Communities” by Kim Tran (2017) in Everyday Feminism, “The better way to support rape victims: put their needs first” by Allison Griner (2018) in The Guardian, and “What Would It Take to Actually End Intimate Violence” by Miriam Zoila Pérez (2017) in Colorlines. A
nother article, while not explicitly discussing transformative or restorative justice, further highlights the dangers of using punitive measures to combat sexual violence, even under the guise of gender justice: “#MeToo must avoid ‘carceral feminism’” by Alex Press (2018) in Vox. While Lancaster’s argument informs a reading of these articles by situating them within a historical context, they in turn provide concrete solutions to both sexual violence and the harms created by the legal system in response to it. Reading these texts in tandem illuminates how transformative justice and restorative justice may provide more effective and holistic alternatives for dealing with sexual violence, because they engage the problem simultaneously on what Risman (2004) calls, the “individual, interactional, and institutional dimensions of our society” (429; cf Kershnar 2007; Tran 2017).
While restorative justice and transformative justice share overlapping histories, there are distinctions between the two (see, for example, Admin 2013; Armatta 2018; Kelly 2011; Zehr 2011). Armatta (2018) notes that groups operating under the label of transformative justice tend to put greater emphasis on systemic issues (13), although there are certainly restorative justice groups that pay great attention to institutional and structural harms. While distinctions exist between restorative justice and transformative justice, both provide alternative ways of thinking about justice to the current legal system of the United States. I have decided to include both terms as they are closely related.
Armatta (2018) also explains that while level of collaboration with state institutions varies by group, many organizations that utilize these philosophies have taken an explicit stance against prisons and “seek to avoid a system they consider oppressive” (13; cf Tran 2017). Such groups include “Black Youth Project 100, Generation 5, Incite!, and Communities Against Rape and Abuse” (Armatta 2018:13). The now disbanded Philly Stands Up also took such a position, as explained by former member Esteban Kelly (2011): “Transformative justice in situations of sexual assault assert that the state, the courts, prison system, and police inadequately address the damage done. Not only does the prison- industrial complex fail to offer solutions to community problems, it also fuels additional cycles of sexualized violence” (50). One more important thinker in the movement, Andrea Smith, also elaborated this position during a conference in 2000:
Sexual/ domestic violence within communities of color cannot be addressed seriously without dealing with the larger structures of violence, such as militarism, attacks on immigrants and Indian treaty rights, police brutality, the proliferations of prisons, economic neo-colonialism, and institutional racism. The challenge of women of color is to combat both personal and state violence. We must develop strategies that assure safety for survivors of sexual/domestic violence without strengthening the oppressive criminal justice apparatus. (Ptacek 2010:17 cited in Armatta 2018:20)
Aside from philosophically disagreeing with punitive understandings of justice, the aforementioned groups have attempted to completely separate themselves from the current systems of punishment. These groups demonstrate that processes and actions outside of the legal system are possible, as they provide spaces of healing and justice without it.
Lancaster’s piece illuminates why the country’s current method of dealing with sexual violence and deviance is unjust and serves specific purposes for those in power. His discussion centers on “sex panics,” or widespread panics about perceived sexual deviances and their possible threats: “sex panics give rise to bloated imaginings of risk, inflated conceptions of harm, and loose definitions of sex” (2). He explains that these panics “prod repressive forms of governance,” and make it generally more palatable for people to be denied their rights (15). He also notes that such practices marginalize specific groups of people by creating narratives of them as threatening and dangerous, specifically black and gay men (4-5, 14).
Many parts of Lancaster’s argument are not applicable to an analysis of #MeToo, as it was written in a wholly different context and in response to difference problems. In the beginning of his introduction, Lancaster explains that he was motivated to write Sex Panic and the Punitive State after a friend was persecuted in the media, largely because he was a gay man (1). Thus, some of his arguments about sex panics, while perfectly understandable within the context he was writing, read uncomfortably in the context of #MeToo.
For example, he argues that, “Nothing, it would seem, causes the individual to stand out against the mass more than a story of suffering, and nothing induces more empathy, goodwill, and other shows of social support than the claim that one has been victimized” (9). This was clearly not the case for Professor Blasey Ford during the Kavanaugh trial, as Rebecca Solnit (2018) explains in her recent article in The Guardian about victim blaming. She notes, “Her credibility and character were being preemptively attacked even before we knew who she was; she was promptly doxxed when the Washington Post revealed her identity (Solnit 2018).” These responses are certainly not signs of “social support.”
It is possible to use pieces of Lancaster’s argument to analyze #MeToo without labeling the movement as a “sex panic.” Statistics on the vastness and frequency of sexual violence place it outside of the parameters of Lancaster’s definition for the term. Citing a 2011 study by Black et. al., the National Sexual Violence Resource Center notes that “One in five women and one in 71 men will be raped at some point in their lives.” Clearly, the public response to sexual violence is neither a “bloated [imagining] of risk” nor a “inflated [conception] of harm.” Regardless, many parts of Lancaster’s argument are relevant to a discussion about #MeToo and the steps needed to address it. Pieces of his discussion are echoed by current thinkers on the subject, and as will be shown, many of these overlaps exist within the realm of transformative and restorative justice.
While the violence revealed by #MeToo is certainly real, the idea that we can solve the problem by dealing with specific “bad” individuals is not based in reality (Armatta 2018; Lancaster 2011; Pérez 2017). Lancaster explains that this belief is widespread in the United States: “And because U.S. progressives, no less than conservatives, participate in an individualist tradition, liberal activists have tended to see social problems as being rooted in the bad thoughts or bad habits of individuals, not structurally embedded in economic or institutional arrangements” (29). As mentioned before, the individuals placed under blame tend to come from specific groups of people; Lancaster specifically cites “the (implicitly black) rapist, the (implicitly homosexual) pedophile, or the (supposedly irremediable) child abuser” as common tropes in sex panics (14). This individualist and discriminatory understanding of violence and justice is currently being combatted within popular media in light of the #MeToo movement.
In a 2017 interview with the magazine Colorlines, “transformative justice activist Mia Mingus” of the Bay Area Transformative Justice Collective argues that we must combat sexual violence culturally and structurally, and that any efforts to solely punish individuals will never fix the problem (Pérez). She explains, “The reality is that intimate and sexual violence is happening all the time. That it’s actually the norm in our society. When we look at those statistics, it’s most of us. If we’re going to lock up anybody who has ever been violent or done harm, we’d be locking up most people (Pérez 2017).” She also echoes Lancaster’s argument about the inequity of punitive responses to sexual violence: “[…] we know who gets thought of as criminals (Pérez 2017).” By “who,” she means “communities of color, […] queer and trans communities of color, […] disabled communities of color (Pérez 2017). Similar to Lancaster’s analysis of sex panics, Mingus directly names who will bear the brunt of punitive responses to #MeToo.
These ideas are also present in Kim Tran’s 2017 Everyday Feminism piece. The article presents the opinions and experiences of five advocates for transformative justice (Mia Mingus, Adrienne Sky Roberts, Jess Boyd, Beezer de Martelly, and Ray). The author and the interviewees argue why it provides be a better option for responding to sexual violence than our country’s punitive legal system. Tran explains, “A virtue of transformative justice is decriminalizing communities of color, which have always been subject to violence at the hands of police and the government […]” (2017). This article also highlight how sexual violence is widespread, and not located within a few immoral people.
While not directly addressing transformative justice or restorative justice, Alex Press also discusses why punitive or “carceral” responses to #MeToo are inapt, and how we as a society need to be thinking about larger and more effective ways to combat sexual violence. She explains,
While Harvey Weinstein may be facing charges, his powerful counterparts- the unknown numbers of Wall Street traders, media executives, and political leaders who have committed less well documented assaults- are not the ones who will be swept into the criminal justice system. Instead it will be the poor and working class- especially those from communities of color- who suffer, as feminists cheer on the enforcement of laws that offer police one more excuse for violence and harassment. (Press 2018)
Lancaster’s analysis certainly supports this assertion that specific people will be targeted by new laws aimed at ending sexual violence. Press provides concrete examples of punitive responses to #MeToo already taking place in some European countries, further demonstrating that a fear of punitive responses is well-placed.
Allison Griner’s 2018 article in The Guardian proposes restorative justice, specifically, as an alternative to the imprisonment of perpetrators of sexual violence. It clearly demonstrates the pain that many victims and survivors go through in the criminal legal system, which demonstrates why restorative justice processes may be so desired by those who have been harmed. However, it also presents valid arguments against its implementation. Michael Dolce, “a Florida lawyer who represents sex crime survivors” expresses his worry that restorative justice processes, “[provide] a very dangerous ‘out’ for sex criminals that leaves others at enormous risks” (Griner 2018). Many advocates of restorative justice and transformative justice stress the importance of consistently maintaining the safety of victims and survivors, and explain how doing so is not necessarily antithetical to the restorative and transformative processes being proposed (see, for example, Tran 2017; Armatta 2018). Although this piece does not address the systemic issues discussed in the other articles, it demonstrates how restorative justice can actually deliver a sense of justice to victims and survivors when the criminal legal system is unable to.
These popular media pieces compellingly argue that the current systems in place do not adequately address sexual violence. Lancaster’s text supports these assertions by providing a historical context. As the aforementioned thinkers have demonstrated, transformative justice and restorative justice provide promising alternatives because they address the issue holistically, rather than only engaging with individuals (in a way that is structurally racist, classist, and homophobic).
In her 2004 article, Barbara J. Risman argues that gender is a “social structure” which operates throughout the “individual, interactional, and institutional dimensions of our society” (429). She argues, to realistically address social ills, we must be willing to engage with all three dimensions. Similarly, Tran (2017) explains that, “[…] gender-based violence functions on multiple levels from institutional to interpersonal to individual.” Thus, any attempts to address sexual violence through actions taken only against individuals will be inadequate. In contrast, the alternatives provided by transformative justice and restorative justice address the issue holistically through all three dimensions.
As has been discussed, transformative justice explicitly works at the institutional level to change widespread systems and understandings that contribute to and uphold sexual violence (Armatta 2018; Kelly 2011; Tran 2017;). Kelly explains,
Working from a transformative justice framework means that [Philly Stands Up] acknowledges the broader systems of oppression (e.g. racism, male supremacy, capitalism, and the prison-industrial complex) that instigate sexual assault. Furthermore, we do not assign sole culpability for the assault on the perpetrator or the ‘person who has caused harm.’ Rather, we ask: What did the community do to create and support safer spaces to ensure cultural competency in communicating sexual needs, desires, and boundaries? (2011:49)
Transformative justice provides some ideas for how to grapple with these large, institutional issues. Firstly, by working outside of the current, punitive process, many of the aforementioned groups are calling its legitimacy into question. They threaten the current system by clearly naming its inequities. Secondly, Tran, in conversation wither her interviewee, Ray, notes that including transformative justice in social movements can ensure that sexual violence continues to be taken seriously as we fight for a more equitable society. For a concrete example of transformative justice on a larger scale, Tran notes that de Martelly is “attempting to establish a statewide [community accountability] program for the University of California Student-Workers Union UAW 2865” (2017). This endeavor demonstrates that transformative justice and restorative justice can occur on a large scale.
Closely related to the institutional level, sexual violence clearly operates on the interpersonal level. Transformative justice and restorative justice provide many ideas for how to create greater equity and compassion between individuals. One example provided by restorative justice is face-to-face conversations between the person harmed and the person who perpetrated the harm; this may include “[discussing] the impact of a crime and [settling] on a plan to make amends” (Griner 2018). These meetings are very carefully planned, and only occur if everyone involved wants them to take place (Griner 2018). Similar processes come out of transformative justice, including what Mia Mingus and the Bay Area Transformative Justice Collective call “pods” (Pérez 2017). Pods require close collaboration between different groups of people, some directly supporting the person harmed and some supporting the person who perpetrated the harm. This allows the parties to be separated as much as needed, while simultaneously engaging in the same process (Pérez 2017). These are a few examples among many of how transformative justice and restorative justice can take place.
By recognizing human dignity, transformative and restorative justice also create change on the individual level. Mia Mingus explains, “No one comes out of the womb knowing how to torture somebody, how to rape somebody, or sexually assault somebody. These are learned behaviors” (Pérez 2017). Elsewhere, she explains that a large part of transformative justice work exists at the individual level by potentially “changing behaviors” (Pérez 2017). By treating those who have harmed and those who have been harmed as people worthy of respect, these philosophies represent a radical divergence from how we normally think about justice.
Clearly, many people are searching for new ways to understand justice within the context of #MeToo. As the texts cited in this essay indicate, we can not create an equitable world by using the current processes of punishment available to us. The few examples of alternatives that I have provided here demonstrate that other possibilities exist. And we desperately need them.
