Denunciations on Instagram: A Response to a Systemic Issue

Like many media outlets — and many people — I am following with great interest the wave of denunciations currently sweeping across social media, particularly on Instagram, across the country, and more specifically in Quebec and here in New Brunswick. This movement, which has been gaining momentum for over a week now, has deeply affected me.

It resonates with me both because of my personal experiences and my active engagement on this issue: public dialogues, blog posts, exchanges with survivors, and concrete actions taken in the hope of contributing to meaningful change. Although I have concerns about certain legal and moral issues associated with this form of denunciation, I nonetheless choose to support it. Why? Because it finally gives survivors a platform — one that our judicial and social systems have clearly struggled to provide.

Filing a Complaint: A Complex Process, With Far Too Few Results

Let us recall the statistics reported in an article published by Ici Acadie of Radio-Canada: fewer than 10% of complaints filed with the police ever make it to court. Three out of a thousand lead to charges. In 2020 — and still today — these numbers are simply unacceptable.

To understand them, we must put ourselves in the shoes of survivors. Sexual violence leaves deep scars: trauma, fear of not being believed, re-victimization, isolation, and a lack of support from those around them. As Marie-Andrée Pelland, professor of sociology and criminology at the Université de Moncton, explains, some people even come to realize — by reading other testimonies — that they too were victims. I have witnessed this phenomenon far too often.

Too often, those around survivors minimize what happened. They excuse it. They rationalize it:

“He or she is fine most of the time.”

“ It was the alcohol.”

“The stress.”

“You have to forgive and move on.”

What we forget, when we respond this way, is that we allow predators to continue — and often to act with even greater boldness. I have seen too many repeat offences, too many complicit silences. Worst of all, the community continues to hire these individuals, invite them to sit on boards of directors, even glorify them, while quietly admitting — behind closed doors — that they were aware of the behaviour.

Protecting the Aggressor Instead of the Victim

I will always remember a conversation I had with a well-known figure in the regional business community. We were discussing a person I knew had sexually assaulted someone close to me — a complaint had been filed, an important detail to note. That person had “gotten off relatively well.” A sudden career change. Organizational silence. Then, years later, the truth surfaced: the person had indeed been asked to leave — but under the guise of a professional transition.

When I questioned this individual about the decision, I was told it was the best way to handle cases like this. Then I was asked, “And what would you have done?”

My answer — advocating for a public, transparent denunciation — was met with condescension.“That’s not how it works.”

Oh really.

That is when I understood how it does work: you protect those at fault. You avoid consequences. You let them continue to circulate freely within the community — much like the Church did, for far too long, with abusive priests. A few months later, this same person suggested that I simply forgive the aggressor. That forgiveness was the only way to move forward, I was told.

Oh really. Thank you for the advice.

When Speaking Out Leads Nowhere… Except to More Harm

For a victim who chooses to report to their employer and sees that nothing is done, the message is clear: it wasn’t worth it. They are re-victimized, often marginalized, sometimes outright ostracized.

When I read testimonies from victims supported by others who state that they witnessed inappropriate behaviour — and who confirm that complaints were indeed filed, without consequence — there is serious reason to question how organizations handle denunciations.

The judicial route is hardly more reassuring. My own experience, echoed by the words of Gina Colette, an intervention worker for survivors of sexual assault at Carrefour pour femmes, confirms this:

“Often, the police officers who come to the hospital have not received sufficient training on sexual violence. Survivors are then re-victimized through the questions asked or the attitudes displayed.”

Why, moreover, is victim services at the Codiac RCMP detachment only offered after a complaint has been filed — and not before? Survivors are referred to community organizations, such as the Southeast Sexual Assault Centre, which makes sense… provided an appointment can actually be obtained. If this is the chosen approach, then these organizations must be adequately funded so they can meet the demand.

A Systemic Problem… and a Collective Responsibility

As you can see, this is a deeply systemic issue. I have not even touched on training, awareness, or policies — or the lack thereof.

The reality is brutal: collectively, we do not support our victims.

Our silence.

Our minimization.

Our denial.

Our discomfort.

All of this makes us complicit — and therefore part of the problem.

Every time I have tried to support a victim in my own circle, I have encountered resistance, walls, and a system riddled with gaps. So if today survivors are turning to anonymous denunciations on social media in order to be heard, we must be honest enough to admit it: this is a collective failure and a collective responsibility.

Author’s NoteThis text is part of an ongoing process of reflection. Realities evolve, but vigilance remains essential.

Further Reading

• Just Stop It!!! (October 12, 2019)

• Women’s Lived Stories: Breaking the Silence on Inappropriate Behaviour (May 9, 2019)

Where silence has lingered for too long, light always finds a way in.