Invisible Violence: Deadly Gender Bias

This is the second installment of a series I’m writing on Invisible Violence.

You can read the first post HERE.

In my last post, I explored the concept of invisible violence - the kind that doesn’t Leave bruises but instead erodes a person’s sense of self, security, and autonomy. Stalking, coercive control, emotional abuse - these forms of violence are just as insidious and damaging as physical assault, but they remain grossly under-recognized by the law. Victims suffer in silence while their abusers manipulate, threaten, and slowly strip them of their freedom. And when the system fails to intervene, invisible violence too often escalates into very real, very visible harm.

And yet, time and time again, we see the justice system failing to take action until it’s too late.

Nowhere is this failure more apparent than in the gender biases deeply embedded in policing and the legal system. These biases, rooted in centuries of systemic inequity, do more than dismiss women’s pain - they endanger their lives.

For those who haven’t experienced it, stalking or coercive control might not sound like a “real crime”. It might seem like something someone can ignore or escape. But for those who have lived it, or are living it, the reality is terrifying.

The signs are often there. The obsessive messages, the unshakable feeling of being watched, the manipulation disguised as affection and concern. And yet, when women seek help, they are met with apathy, victim-blaming, or outright dismissal.

And then - like clockwork - the headlines appear.

Louise Hunt. Carol Hunt. Hannah Hunt.

They were a mother and her two daughters. Kyle Clifford, an ex-boyfriend of Louise, murdered them with a crossbow after sexually assaulting Louise in what he called an “act of spite.” This was not a random crime - it was premeditated. It was control-fueled. And it was preventable.

If stalking and coercive control had been treated as serious crimes before they escalated, if there had been legal structures in place to monitor and restrict abusers, would Louise, Carol, and Hannah still be alive?

How many times does this story have to repeat before we learn?

One of the biggest reasons invisible violence continues unchecked is because law enforcement fundamentally underestimates the risk women face.

Even in cases where women do everything “right” by reporting their abusers, seeking restraining orders, and documenting threatens, the response is often the same:

There’s nothing we can do until he actually does something.

Are you sure you’re not overreacting?

Maybe you should just block him and move on.

In other words: You’re on your own until you’re dead.

Meanwhile, the laws that do exist to address gender-based violence are inconsistently enforced. Restraining orders, for instance, provide little real protection. A piece of paper cannot physically stop a stalker or abuser who has already decided they are entitled to control another person’s life.

And even when women are murdered by men they have previously reported, there are no consequences for the officers who dismissed their fears.

Would we ever accept this level of negligence if the victims were men?

The lack of urgency around gender-based violence doesn’t just enable individual crimes - it creates an environment where abusers feel emboldened to continue.

Take Anthony Burns, for example.

Between 2018 and 2021, Burns blackmailed and terrorized 600 women across multiple countries. He threatened them, coerced them into compliance, and ruined lives - all without physically laying a hand on them.

How did this happen?

Because the systems in place were not built to recognize or respond to psychological and cyber-based abuse. There were 600 victims, yet it took years before meaningful action was taken.

Imagine if even a reaction of those women had been heard and taken seriously the first time they reported him.

The most chilling reality of gender-based violence is that we know the pattern. It’s predictable.

Stalking becomes assault.

Control becomes violence.

Threats become murder.

We know this. And yet, every time it happens, we act surprised.

Because the law, in its current form, is not designed to prevent harm - it is designed to respond to it. And in the case of invisible violence, by the time the response comes, the damage is already done.

And while laws may have evolved here and there, they often fail to fully account for the deeply ingrained power dynamics between men and women, particularly when it comes to violence.

The statistics are staggering: Homicide is a leading cause of deaths for pregnant women in the U.S., with over half of these deaths caused by an intimate partner. And while men are more likely to be victims of violence in general, women are disproportionately targeted in cases of intimate partner violence and stalking. The vast majority of perpetrators? Men.

Why, when we worry about an animal's safety in the zoo, does it immediately make sense to keep the predators and prey separate, and yet men and women are considered equals in the eyes of the law when it comes to violence and danger? (Please know that I’m fully aware humans don’t live in a zoo, nor am I suggesting they should, or that men and women should be separated).

The zoo analogy may seem silly, but it is compelling because it forces us to confront an uncomfortable reality: if we acknowledge that some groups are more vulnerable to harm than others, why do we insist on treating all parties as if the risk is equal. Of course, men and women should be equal in terms of rights, respect, and autonomy - but when it comes to safety and the law, pretending the playing field is level is not just naive; it’s dangerous.

The legal system often defaults to gender neutrality, which can be problematic when it ignores asymmetrical threats. For example:

• Self-defence laws often fail women who kill their abusers because they don’t fit the traditional image of self-defense (i.e. fighting back in the moment rather than after prolonged abuse). Very similar to the boy in I Just Killed My Dad (Netflix).

• Protective orders are often ineffective because they rely on a system that reacts rather than prevents - stalkers and abusers often escalate despite these orders, if not in spite of them.

• Coercive control laws (which recognize ongoing manipulation as abuse) are rare in North America, despite overwhelming evidence of their necessity.

The question is not whether we need to change - it’s how much longer we are willing to wait for it.

And I’m not aiming to demonize men here - it’s about acknowledging reality. Just like we separate predators and prey in a zoo for safety reasons, we should be structuring laws based on risk, not outdated notions of fairness. Because when it comes to life and death, fairness should mean protection for those most at risk - not equal treatment for unequally powerful threats.

We need to make coercive control and stalking serious crimes. The UK has already criminalized coercive control, and Canada and the US need to follow suit. These behaviors must carry weight in the legal system, with real penalties and interventions before they escalate.

We need to improve training for law enforcement. Police officers must be trained to recognize gender-based violence in all its forms. This includes emotional and psychological abuse, coercive control, and stalking.

We need to hold law enforcement accountable for negligence. When a woman reports an abuser, and that abuser later harms or kills her, those who failed to act should be held responsible somehow.

We need to strengthen and enforce restraining orders. A restraining order should not be a suggestion - it should be actively monitored with severe consequences for violations.

We need to shift the burden of proof off of the victims. Women should not always have to prove they are in danger before they are taken seriously. If someone is displaying predatory behavior, they should be the ones forced to prove they are not a threat.

We must invest in early intervention programs for perpetrators. Many abusers come from cycles of trauma themselves. While this does not excuse their actions, interventions that prevent escalation could save lives - both of victims and potential abusers before they fully cross that line.

Invisible violence is only invisible to those who refuse to see it.

The victims see it.

Their families see it.

Those who have survived see it.

The question is, when will our laws and systems catch up?

How many more stories like Louise Hunt’s or Anthony Burns’ victims do we need before we admit that the way we handle gender-based violence is deeply, fundamentally broken?

Because if we don’t act now, we’re not just failing victims - we’re giving their abusers a free pass.

And they already know it.

Stay with me as I continue this series, diving into the bias on invisible abuses that could work in women's favour. Does it?

Ⓒ April 2025. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.