In 2021, Bradley Anderton, then an assistant district attorney in North Carolina, represented a woman suing a man for misdemeanor sexual battery and assault on a female. She alleged that the defendant had groped her, then beat her up after she’d rejected his unwanted advances. Photographs of the woman showed cuts, bruises, and a black eye.
In court, the defense prodded the woman about her work, knowing she’d been an OnlyFans creator and that the defendant was among her subscribers. Anderton objected, arguing that her job was irrelevant to the case. The judge, unfamiliar with OnlyFans, took a five-minute recess to look it up, then returned to the courtroom and allowed the defense to display images from the woman’s account—he believed the published content explained “the dynamic” between the two parties. Anderton’s client lost the case.
While a judge’s conflation of online sex work and consent would be misguided, also egregious is that he made a significant legal decision after googling OnlyFans on the spot. Assumptions generated about the platform within a matter of minutes were permitted to influence the outcome.
“Her sexual behavior online, in the eyes of this old, conservative judge meant that she was ‘asking for it,’” says Anderton. “If the OnlyFans account hadn’t been discovered, I believe the case absolutely would have gone in a different direction. He looked it up and made a very fast snap judgment about what it was.”
In this case and others involving sexual assault and social media, the complainant’s fate rests on the judge’s awareness of how online communications platforms work. Though evidence in sexual assault cases frequently includes social media communications, many judges, often due to a generational gap, lack competence in their intricacies.
In 2016, for instance, the accused in Canada’s first Twitter harassment case was acquitted. The judge ruled that while he believed the complainants genuinely felt harassed, they had no reasonable grounds to be fearful, despite the accused tweeting a reference to one complainant’s location when she was at a bar. According to journalist Alexandra Kimball, who covered the case, “The first couple of days [of the trial] were largely spent explaining the conventions of Twitter to the judge,” including explanations of tweeting, retweeting, blocking, hashtags, and handles. Had the judge been more knowledgeable about Twitter’s potential for harm, it’s possible he may have understood it as a vector for potential danger and not merely an arena of petty squabbles. (Kimball wrote that after reading the accused’s posts, “ … any reasonable woman would find the sheer volume of his tweets frightening.”)
If a judge does not understand a platform, says California-based lawyer Sam Dordulian, the case is likely to be thrown out or ruled unfavorably. Dordulian noted one case in which a defendant accused of sexual assault argued that the incident must have been consensual because the complainant—a business associate—sent him a LinkedIn request before they met. The judge was unfamiliar with the professional networking site, and had to be convinced that its primary utility was not arranging hookups.
“The court is so behind when it comes to holding offenders accountable for internet-related crime,” says Melissa Sinclair, social action program director of HAVEN, an advocacy organization for survivors of intimate partner violence. “Abusers are catching on to that, and it emboldens them. It makes them more dangerous, it makes them more willing to take risks, and it increases the level of danger for survivors.”