Latest news with #WhiteSlaveTrafficAct
USA Today
02-07-2025
- USA Today
Diddy verdict outrage is justified. But the law is doing what it's supposed to.
The guilty verdicts are not symbolic. But justice is not just about naming abuse. Trafficking and intimate partner violence are not interchangeable – and pretending they are helps no one. This column discusses sex trafficking. If you or someone you know is in danger or in an unsafe situation, the National Human Trafficking Hotline can help. Advocates are available 24/7 by calling 1-888-373-7888 or texting 233733. Sean 'Diddy' Combs has been found guilty in federal court of violating the Mann Act and federal prostitution statutes but he was acquitted of sex trafficking under the Trafficking Victims Protection Act (TVPA), the federal government's primary anti-trafficking law, as well as RICO racketeering charges for the purpose of sex trafficking. The split verdict has stirred public confusion and outrage. After hearing detailed accounts of coerced sex, drug-fueled 'freak-off' parties, surveillance, beatings and emotional manipulation, many believed the case was a clear example of human trafficking. To them, the not-guilty verdict on trafficking charges felt like a miscarriage of justice. But while the jury held Combs accountable for significant crimes, it stopped short of classifying his conduct as trafficking. We don't know whether the jurors saw the behavior as trafficking but didn't find enough evidence – or whether they concluded it didn't meet the legal definition at all. What is clear is this: calling Combs' behavior trafficking under the TVPA would require expanding that law beyond its current meaning. And that expansion could carry real consequences – especially for the very victims trafficking laws were designed to protect. What is the Mann Act? The "White Slave Traffic Act," also known as the Mann Act, passed in 1910, makes it a federal crime to knowingly transport someone across state lines for the purpose of engaging in illegal sexual activity – including prostitution. In the past, it was misused to police sexual morality, but today it's applied more narrowly to cases involving interstate travel and sexual exploitation. In Combs' case, the jury found that he used his power and resources to transport women for illicit sexual purposes. But the Mann Act does not require proof of coercion, long-term control or systemic exploitation. It focuses on movement and intent – not the broader patterns of slavery-like domination or exploitation. By contrast, the Trafficking Victims Protection Act (TVPA), passed in 2000, was designed to combat what Congress called 'modern-day slavery.' It targets organized systems of commercial exploitation through force, fraud or coercion, and it typically involves traffickers who control nearly every aspect of a victim's life: housing, transportation, identification, finances and the ability to leave. That's not what the Combs case showed. The women involved reported trauma and coercion, but they retained housing, communication, financial resources and career opportunities. They were not legally or physically confined. There was no evidence of document confiscation, restriction of movement or the kind of isolation commonly seen in trafficking cases prosecuted under the TVPA. And that's not a loophole – it's the law doing what it's supposed to do by drawing difficult but necessary lines between different forms of harm. Opinion: Cassie's Diddy trial testimony shows sexual assault survivors how to take power back As one of the nation's preeminent human trafficking expert witnesses, I am familiar with those lines. I have testified in landmark trafficking cases from California to New York. My book, "Hidden in Plain Sight: America's Slaves of the New Millennium," is used to train law enforcement on trafficking identification nationwide. The TVPA was written to protect people whose entire lives are controlled by others – often in silence, often invisible. Expanding the law beyond that mission threatens to weaken its core. Abuse described in Diddy trail was real and criminal. But calling it trafficking doesn't help survivors. None of this minimizes what happened. The abuse described in the Combs case was real, harmful and criminal. But redefining it as trafficking – simply because other laws didn't offer a viable path to justice – doesn't help survivors. It undermines the integrity of the trafficking framework and could actually make it harder for victims of true trafficking to get the support and legal recognition they need. It's understandable why prosecutors turned to the TVPA. Trafficking cases come with longer statutes of limitations, more severe penalties and more public support. And existing domestic violence statutes are often outdated or ill-equipped to address coercive control, especially when the abuser is wealthy, powerful and legally savvy. But the solution isn't to force high-profile abuse cases into trafficking law. It's to fix the laws that fail to meet the moment. Opinion: Diddy trial and Macron shove reveal our blind spots about domestic violence One of the most telling omissions in this trial was the absence of a human trafficking expert witness – something virtually standard in most trafficking prosecutions. In typical cases, such experts are brought in to explain the dynamics of power and coercion, as well as recruitment and control schemes typically used by traffickers, particularly when overt force is not visible. Experts will often testify whether a case is consistent with or atypical of trafficking patterns. Here, both the prosecution and defense opted not to call such witnesses – likely because Combs' conduct defied those standard frameworks. Instead, prosecutors called Dawn Hughes, a psychological expert on interpersonal violence who previously testified on behalf of Amber Heard in the Johnny Depp defamation case that stemmed from allegations of domestic abuse. As someone who routinely provides human trafficking expert testimony, I can say this case presented unique evidentiary challenges and there is a clear distinction between interpersonal violence and human trafficking. Diddy's alleged trafficking enterprise did not resemble the classic 'modern slavery' narrative, and a human trafficking expert might have inadvertently highlighted just how unusual this case was for a trafficking prosecution. In fact, doing so could have risked undermining the government's core argument by exposing how far this case deviates from trafficking's conventional legal contours. We need stronger domestic violence laws There's a critical – and often overlooked – fact in this case: Prosecutors may have used the TVPA because the statute of limitations had already expired on more direct charges, such as sexual assault or battery. That's not a reflection of the survivors' credibility – it's a failure of the legal system to account for how trauma actually works. Many victims of intimate partner violence, especially when facing fear, manipulation, or public scrutiny, wait years to come forward. That's not weakness – it's human. But the law hasn't caught up. When time runs out on prosecuting real crimes, prosecutors sometimes look for workarounds. The TVPA offers one. But it wasn't designed to handle domestic abuse or intimate partner exploitation. If we care about justice in cases like this, we shouldn't stretch trafficking law to fit the facts – we should reform the laws that didn't offer justice in the first place. That means extending statutes of limitations for sexual assault and abuse, modernizing domestic violence laws and creating better tools for prosecuting coercive control, even when it doesn't involve physical captivity. Legal scholars and victim advocates have long warned that when we dilute the meaning of 'trafficking,' we hurt the very people trafficking laws were built to protect. If courts begin to see every form of abuse as trafficking, they may become more skeptical. Juries may get confused. Judges may raise the bar for what qualifies. And real survivors – runaway teens, undocumented workers, women trafficked across borders – may find themselves disbelieved or deprioritized. Meanwhile, limited resources – prosecutors, shelters, outreach workers – get pulled into celebrity trials and away from the vulnerable, invisible populations who need them most. We survived sex trafficking. Don't protect men who exploit women like us. | Opinion Survivors still deserve justice The women who came forward against Combs showed immense courage. Their pain is real. Their voices mattered. The guilty verdicts under the Mann Act and prostitution statutes is not symbolic – they are legal affirmations that crimes were committed. But justice is not just about naming abuse. It's about naming it accurately. Trafficking and intimate partner violence are not interchangeable – and pretending they are helps no one. If we're angry that the law didn't do more to hold Combs accountable, that anger is justified. But the answer is not to misapply trafficking law. The answer is to make sure abuse laws are strong enough – long enough, clear enough and modern enough – to capture the harm as it actually happened. Justice requires accountability. But it also requires precision. When we blur the legal lines, we confuse the public, mislead future juries and risk weakening the very laws survivors depend on. Let's not call everything trafficking just because it's the only viable legal tool left. Let's fix the toolbox. Because justice requires truth. And truth requires legal clarity. Kimberly Mehlman-Orozco holds a Ph.D. in criminology, law and society and serves as a human trafficking expert witness in criminal and civil court. Her first book "Hidden in Plain Sight: America's Slaves of the New Millennium" is used to train law enforcement on human trafficking investigations.
Yahoo
12-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Diddy Faces Trial Amid Abuse Claims and Years of Industry Silence
The video begins with a barefoot woman walking fast toward the elevator lobby of a Los Angeles hotel. Within seconds, she is yanked violently by a man with a bath towel around his waist, who grabs her by the back of her neck and throws her to the ground before kicking and dragging her. Hip-hop impresario Sean 'Diddy' Combs had long denied he had ever assaulted his former girlfriend. The March 2016 tape made it clear — vocalist Cassie Ventura was the woman on the floor and Combs was the man in the towel. And within days of the video first being broadcast by CNN last May, Combs issued an apology in which he said, 'I was disgusted then when I did it. I'm disgusted now.' The tape isn't just revolting, federal prosecutors say — it is also a crucial piece of evidence that Combs led a 'criminal enterprise' in which he 'abused, threatened, and coerced women and others around him to fulfill his sexual desires, protect his reputation, and conceal his conduct' for years. Combs' conduct and how he wielded his power is the focal point of a trial that began Monday in federal court in New York, where he faces sex trafficking, racketeering, and other charges in connection with a series of elaborate parties known as 'freak-offs' in which the authorities say women were coerced into participating in sexual encounters with Combs and others. Combs has vehemently denied the charges, saying that any sexual encounters were consensual, and his lawyers have characterized the 'freak-offs' as simply part of his non-monogamous lifestyle. While a jury has yet to render a verdict in Combs' case, the closely watched trial follows advocacy efforts that made it easier for survivors of sexual violence to be heard in court. Advocates said they want the music industry to foster safer work environments by ending their efforts to silence accusers and conceal accusations, a practice that prosecutors accused Combs of engaging in. For decades, prosecutors say, 'Combs relied on the employees, resources and influence of the multi-faceted business empire that he led and controlled — creating a criminal enterprise whose members and associates engaged in, and attempted to engage in, among other crimes, sex trafficking, forced labor, kidnapping, arson, bribery, and obstruction of justice.' 'I think everyone was waiting to see when hip-hop was going to have its #MeToo moment,' said Mark Anthony Neal, the James B. Duke Distinguished Professor of African & African American Studies and Chair of the Department of African & African American Studies at Duke University, who has extensively researched the history of the genre. Combs' legal team has alleged racial bias in the government's decision to charge him with violating the Mann Act for transporting sex workers across state lines as part of the 'freak-offs.' The law, originally titled the White Slave Traffic Act when it was passed in 1910, has a racist history and Combs' defense has argued that it's been disproportionately leveled at Black men. Historically, Neal said, law enforcement has 'criminalized the sexual identity of Black men,' but he added that doesn't mean that predatory behavior by Black men should be excused. 'If we're talking about predatory behavior by Black men in Black communities, amongst Black people, we have to have a higher standard of accountability than to just say, 'Well, you didn't go after that white guy,'' Neal said. While any potential long-term effects of the Combs case remain to be seen, Neal said that it is unlikely he would even be in a courtroom without the prosecutions of singer R. Kelly, who was convicted of sex trafficking and racketeering in a closely watched 2021 trial, and Bill Cosby, who stood trial in 2018 amid allegations from more than 60 women that he drugged and sexually assaulted them. Cosby was found guilty of three counts of aggravated indecent assault in the case, which revolved around one woman's allegations, but the conviction was overturned on a legal technicality nearly three years later by the Pennsylvania Supreme Court. Combs' trial 'doesn't occur without Bill Cosby and R. Kelly being taken to task before him,' said Neal. The mogul's legal team did not respond to Capital B's requests for comment. Combs' attorneys told CNN, 'These are not new allegations or new accusers. These are the same individuals, former long-term girlfriends, who were involved in consensual relationships. This was their private sex life, defined by consent, not coercion.' With regard to the Mann Act, historians say the law originally was meant to discourage interracial relationships by penalizing Black men for interstate travel with white women. 'The Mann Act absolutely has those racist roots,' said Emma M. Hetherington, a clinical associate professor at the University of Georgia. The law was used to prosecute Black men — most infamously boxer Jack Johnson — in interracial relationships. Combs' legal team has also asserted that powerful white men like Eliot Spitzer — who resigned in 2008 as governor of New York amid a prostitution scandal but was never criminally charged — have avoided similar prosecution. 'White women are more likely to be believed than Black women, unfortunately. That's not how it should be, but it's bias within our system,' Hetherington added. 'And Black men are more likely to be arrested and alleged to be criminals than white men.' But, she added, 'that's not a legal defense to a trafficking charge.' In November 2023, Ventura — Combs' former girlfriend — filed a lawsuit that said that he was abusive for more than a decade. She said Combs raped and beat her and forced her to have sex with male sex workers, while 'introducing her to a drug-fueled lifestyle that kept her complacent and compliant.' Ventura was able to file her lawsuit because of a temporary window — also known as a lookback law — that allowed people in New York state to file sex abuse lawsuits after the statute of limitations had passed. #MeToo founder Tarana Burke told the Associated Press last year that the legislation 'was a direct result of survivors organizing as part of' #MeToo. 'Survivors pushed hard that we need this law. This is directly related to the power of the movement.' Combs now faces dozens of civil lawsuits alleging sexual assault that span nearly the entirety of his decades-long music career. Jimanekia Eborn, a trauma specialist who founded an advocacy group for sexual assault survivors from marginalized communities, said Ventura's lawsuit prompted 'a lot of tears and a lot of feelings' within the survivor advocate community. 'Her story is so many people's stories in different forms.' Eborn has been an advocate for longer statute of limitations because she knows how difficult it can be for survivors of sexual assault to process trauma. 'Those that don't understand trauma, they go, 'Well, it just happened to you. Why don't you remember it?' Or 'It happened to you five years ago? Why are you finally coming forward?,' she said. 'Not understanding the ways that people process, the ways that trauma can stunt us, the way that it emotionally affects us, it physically affects us.' These lookback windows, which have been implemented in various states, are an acknowledgement by state legislatures that 'maybe our old statute of limitations wasn't sufficient,' said Hetherington, the law professor. 'We've found a lot of healing effects for survivors and a lot of increased ability for survivors to find justice under this type of legislation,' Hetherington said. Such legislation has also generated controversy — specifically around whether it's fair for defendants to face civil lawsuits for decades-old allegations. But, Hetherington said, 'in the majority of these cases, we're talking about defendants who hold all of the power.' Advocates for survivors of sexual misconduct have also pushed for changes around nondisclosure agreements, rampant in the music industry and other entertainment spaces. In 2022, then-President Joe Biden signed a law that bars companies from forcing employees to enter arbitration in sexual assault and sexual harassment claims. The change gives victims a choice in how they pursue justice, allowing them to take their claims to court, where the outcome will be public. As head of Bad Boy Records, Combs found a way to appeal to both traditional R&B audiences and harder-edge hip-hop fans. At the height of his fame in the late '90s and early aughts, he began expanding his empire to include a fashion line, a vodka brand, and exclusive, celebrity-studded parties in the Hamptons. By then, 'everybody wanted to be close to him because he was bringing money and cultural validation to hip-hop,' Neal said. Now, Combs faces his day in court. As for Ventura, after CNN published a video of Combs attacking her last May, the singer wrote on Instagram that domestic violence 'broke me down to someone I never thought I would become.' 'My only ask is that EVERYONE open your heart to believing victims the first time,' she wrote. 'It takes a lot of heart to tell the truth out of a situation that you were powerless in. I offer my hand to those that are still living in fear.' She added: 'This healing journey is never ending.' The post Diddy Faces Trial Amid Abuse Claims and Years of Industry Silence appeared first on Capital B News.
Yahoo
09-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Cambridge Brothel Case: What's the Point?
Massachusetts is in the midst of prosecuting people who patronized a fancy sex business near Harvard University. It's been big news in certain corners, spawning salacious stories about the doctors, politicians, and tech executives who were on the club's client list. But the most novel thing about this prosecution is what it's missing: a wild yarn about sex slaves. The framing of this story is refreshing, after more than a decade of similar stories getting starkly different treatment. Despite many of the sex workers involved being Asian—a fact that greatly increases the odds of a prostitution bust being called a "human trafficking sting"—news reports have largely refrained from trying to portray the women involved as hapless victims of sexual servitude. Yet the absence of a trafficking narrative lays bare the hollowness of such prosecutions. Why are we doing this? Who's being served? So far, the people who ran the business—including a 42-year-old woman named Han Lee—are the only ones who have been sentenced. Lee pleaded guilty to federal charges of conspiracy to induce women into prostitution and money laundering and was sentenced in March to four years in prison. The main charge here is part of the Mann Act, a 1910 law (then referred to as the "White Slave Traffic Act") passed in response to last century's moral panic about immigration, urbanization, and women's independence. "Born into poverty in South Korea, she was a sex worker for years before becoming a madam," reports The Wall Street Journal. She thoroughly screened clients of her business, and "she allowed women to keep more than half the proceeds and decline to perform services if they chose, wrote Scott Lauer, her federal public defender." Lee is obviously harmed by this, and it seems like those she employed may be harmed, too. If the sex workers' identities are known and they are immigrants, they could be deported. Even if they escape authorities, they're out of jobs—and may be forced to turn to more dangerous or exploitative forms of sex work. Lee's prosecution does benefit one group here: federal authorities. She had to forfeit around $5.5 million to the U.S. government. Now, state and local authorities are busy prosecuting former clients of Lee's business. Their prosecution has become big news in part because of their fight to keep their identities private. Lawyers cited the "adverse and embarrassing collateral consequences" that could come from their identities being revealed publicly. The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court said too bad. The charges they face—"sexual conduct for a fee," a misdemeanor—and the potential legal consequences are relatively minor. It seems clear that the shaming is the point. "I would hope that them getting named makes others think about twice what they're doing," Ivette Monge of the nonprofit Ready Inspire Act told the Journal. The paper details not only the name and occupation of one particular client but how often and how much he paid for sex. Other media outlets have devoted whole articles to outing particular customers, one being a Cambridge city councilor. Americans like to pretend that we're way more enlightened than our Puritan ancestors, but here we are, hundreds of years later, putting people through public ridicule and official sanctions over their consensual sexual choices. Commentary about the case has showcased Americans' absurd attitudes toward sex work. Customers texted with "the brothel purveyors…at least 400 or more times," says a Boston Herald staff editorial. "That's obscene. This isn't a case about a few randy guys. It's prostitution on a giant scale." So…a "few randy guys" paying for sex would be OK? How many is too many, then? Or is the number of texts they sent the problem? What is the editorial's point here? (The extremely poorly written piece also includes baffling, context-free lines like this: "Only in Cambridge can one differentiate between human trafficking and illegal immigration. Too often, the two are conjoined.") At least the clients involved in this care merely face misdemeanor charges. In another Massachusetts case involving prostitution customers, authorities are trying to get sex trafficking convictions for men who contacted an undercover cop posing as an adult sex worker. In that case—Commonwealth v. Garafalo, which came before the state's supreme court in January—prospective customers responded to online ads and agreed to meet at a hotel and pay $100 for sex. The state has since argued that every person who pays for sex is guilty of sex trafficking. But prospective customers in the Cambridge brothel case—which involves higher fees, more upscale settings, and at least some prominent clientele—were not charged with sex trafficking. That's good—the state's attempt in Garafalo to expand the definition of sex trafficking to include all prostitution is despicable on its own. However, the difference in treatment between customers in these two cases highlights yet another harm: the expanded charges and punishments being disproportionately applied against lower-income defendants and/or those deemed less likely to fight back. The Swedish government wants to outlaw OnlyFans? New legislation would apply the country's prohibition on purchasing sexual services to digitally mediated activities that involve no physical contact. The proposal would distinguish making and distributing porn to people generally (OK) from performances tailored to individuals (not OK)—basically banning the system that lets sex workers take more control over their livelihoods and make more money. Facebook gets the TikTok treatment: "Meta whistleblower Sarah Wynn-Williams is set to testify before the Senate Judiciary Subcommittee on Crime and Counterterrorism on Wednesday," reports Axios. "The former global public policy director at Facebook, now Meta, will allege that Facebook cooperated with China's ruling Communist Party, per her opening testimony." The post Cambridge Brothel Case: What's the Point? appeared first on
