In her final speech as Wellington mayor, Tory Whanau spoke candidly about the relentless online abuse she faced during her term, much of it racist and sexist. None of it would have been reassuring for hopeful candidates waiting for the weekend’s results.
Whanau described how false sexual rumours and targeted harassment circulated on social media, and was then repeated by other councillors. The speech underscored the toll digital vitriol can take on those in political office.
Is this something newly elected local body politicians can expect, too? Likely so, and arguably it will be experienced differently depending on their ethnicity, sexuality and gender.
Across the country, women in local government have faced relentless harassment in recent years. It’s the kind of abuse that has been described as “technology-facilitated violence against women”, and which aims to humiliate, coerce or silence.
This takes many forms: gendered disinformation, where false or sexualised rumours are spread to discredit women; misogynistic slurs and threats, often invoking violence or sexual humiliation; and image-based sexual abuse, where women’s likenesses are manipulated into pornographic content or shared without consent.
This is not unique to New Zealand. International research shows consistent trends, with online abuse causing significant emotional and psychological harm. It can discourage women from running for office or participating in public events once elected. And it can make them abandon a political career altogether.
Targeted disinformation and harassment can also erode trust in women leaders and distort political debate. In extreme cases, online abuse escalates into offline threats or stalking.
Given the decreasing numbers putting themselves forward for local office, especially Maori and women candidates, the consequences for representative democracy may already be evident.
Big gaps in the law
Online violence toward politicians tends to spike after significant events such as public debates or other campaign activity, and when public figures speak on certain hot button topics such as racism, LGBTQIA+ rights or climate change.
And with a general election next year, there is every indication this kind of behaviour will ramp up again. Unfortunately, the law addressing online abuse is fragmented and limited.
Current legislation, including the Harmful Digital Communications Act 2015, criminalises certain forms of online harassment, threats and the non-consensual sharing of intimate images.
But the law focuses primarily on individual acts, and does not fully capture the gendered and cumulative harm of abuse faced by women politicians. Defamation law can address false statements, but it is often costly and too slow to prevent the rapid spread of harmful content.
Proposed anti-stalking legislation aims to expand protection by criminalising repeated harassment, online or otherwise. The government has also introduced a security allowance for councillors to install monitored home security systems.
Significant gaps remain, however. Online, gender-based violence that combines sexualised rumours, slurs and coordinated smear campaigns often falls between existing offences. Women candidates often fall back on informal support networks rather than legal remedies.
Shifting the political culture
Tory Whanau called for change – but what kind of change would be meaningful and effective?
For the most part, online spaces are unregulated. Rather than being a utopia of free expression, in practice they can be as corrosive to democratic debate as censorship.
But this raises important questions about the limits of speech. Freedom of expression is vital for a healthy democracy, but it is not absolute. It can be limited when it threatens the rights of others.
This includes the right to non-discrimination, freedom from violence, the right to participate in public life, and the free expression of others. Without protections, these rights are at risk.
Legal reform will have to address the structural and cultural drivers of online gender-based violence by strengthening legal protections to
- capture coordinated, gendered attacks
- ensure social media platforms take rapid and effective action against harassment
- and implement codes of conduct for candidates and parties, prohibiting the spread of false or misleading information.
A well designed code of conduct would not restrict robust political debate. Rather, it would set clear expectations for honesty and respect, distinguishing legitimate criticism from targeted abuse and disinformation.
The British government is exploring such regulation in response to rising online abuse of politicians. Importantly, its approach is underpinned by statutory safety duties on social media platforms – obligations New Zealand currently lacks.
Without comparable measures here, the burden largely falls on individuals and councils to respond to abuse, rather than preventing it at its source.
But as well as balancing protection from harm and legitimate debate, it is vital to shift the political culture away from normalising or trivialising abuse.
Online safety training for political parties, councillors and staff, combined with robust public awareness campaigns, will help create an environment where women can participate fully without fear.
Cassandra Mudgway does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
