How virtual and augmented reality could provide an empathy tool to disguise victims of CSRV and increase levels of justice

An interview with Jaye Ho, a Frontier Tech Pioneer

A lifetime ago, a young woman cut her hair and put on a pair of loose fitting trousers. For years, she did everything possible to disguise her gender and live life as a boy. For her and many other women, it was the only way to escape the threats of conflict related sexual violence across the country she lived in.

There’s a painting of this woman hanging in the office of a civil servant in East Sussex, UK, with her face painted over: a reference to the disguise which saved her life all those years ago in war-torn Malaysia. The character still peeks out with one eye though, watching for danger from behind the sharp geometric shapes which keep her identity hidden.

‘1st Aunty’ depicts Jaye’s aunt who had to dress as a boy during WW2 Japanese-occupied Malaysia. Artist: Jaye Ho 

Jaye Ho is the artist behind this painting. It’s one of many pieces she’s created while exploring the role of disguise for victims and survivors of conflict related sexual violence. Within the FCDO she is the Deputy Head of Conflict Related Sexual Violence (CSRV) Accountability, exploring how to strengthen accountability for these crimes.

The use of rape and sexual violence during war and conflict is still widespread today, but prosecutions are depressingly low

For victims of conflict related sexual violence, journeys to justice are long, painful and infamously unfruitful. The low persecution rates and low numbers of victims coming forward results in perceived impunity for these crimes. “In some areas, perpetrators live in the same communities as the victim, and many threatened or even killed if they step forward to seek justice.” Jaye tells me, explaining that their cases can sometimes be up against very powerful people.

Those who step forward face repeating their painful experiences over and over: perhaps to NGOs, first responders and journalists, before they begin to stand in front of various people in court. 

“I can’t imagine how much courage that requires: to actually step forward and say, “No, I want to seek justice, despite the risk of being re-traumatised and facing stigma, even though it’s a very slim chance of success, and then being in court and standing metres away from people who have sexually violated you.”

For the victims brave enough to take the journey, their stories may be heard in an environment where accuracy is questioned. These testimonies could be the only evidence to finding a perpetrator guilty.

Evidence is thinner still when every human aspect is stripped away from a story. Jaye explains that in order to protect a victim’s identity, in some courts the process is to record an interview, pixelate their face, and use voice distortion to alter the voice. “I understand why, but then what do you have? A pixelated robot talking about a faraway experience.”

It’s a process which exists to protect the victim’s identity, but can end up hiding the human within, potentially reducing the empathy which is crucial to understand such painful and complex cases. 

“How do you rebalance that?” Jaye asks. “How do you restore that level of empathy for people like policymakers from countries who have not experienced conflict? How can they really understand what the problems are?”

‘Minova’ depicts a woman testifying in disguise at the Minova rape trialsin DRC, based on a photo by Diana Zeyneb Alhindawi. Artist: Jaye Ho 

What if virtual and augmented reality could protect the identities of victims, reduce the burden they carry and restore the balance of empathy in the courtroom?

In her capacity as an artist, Jaye spent time with a tech specialist who specialises in augmented reality (AR) and virtual reality (VR), but she started to ask how the technologies might be used to increase levels of justice for conflict-related sexual violence. 

“He was talking about this experience of a prison cell. It was a virtual reality prison cell: you would go in and actually feel like you were in a prison cell. It would really highlight the kind of claustrophobia prisoners feel.”

Other virtual reality products exist to present domestic abuse cases, where “the abuser can transform into a victim’s body and understand what it’s like from their perspective.”

It’s this ability to contextualise testimonies which could be so helpful in CSRV cases. The International Criminal Court could be investigating crimes in Central African Republic, Mali, DRC or Ukraine, while always based in the Hague. 

“Theoretically, you could have a Romanian or Korean judge sitting on a CAR case, who may not understand what it’s like to live and experience conflict in CAR,” Jaye tells me. 

VR-enabled crime scenes could help members of the courtroom step into the victim’s world, and help the victim step into theirs. 

“A small village in Uganda could access the international court if there was a virtual reality courtroom where they could attend hearings,” Jaye explains. Currently, victims can view TV screens but Jaye wants to really bring the courtroom to those communities seeking justice. “I feel like if they could take part in those proceedings, then that would certainly help with the kind of healing process that accountability measures should offer.”

There are multiple strands of potential for this technology. It could protect identities by replacing blurred faces with life-like avatars. It could be used to create one, true VR or AR enabled story which could be used to present victim’s harm in court - looking at the bruises on the skin as well as the injuries beneath - which can be shared and analysed over and over again, reducing the emotional burden on victims who face reliving trauma every time they retell their stories. 

And these strands could all pull together to shift the power balance and offer victims a genuinely safe and possible route to justice. 

Jaye’s painting depicts a young woman with a hidden face: a disguise meant to help the victim disappear. But over the next 12 months she’ll explore how disguise can enable victims to come forward, safely, to seek justice and closure.

“Success would mean more survivors realise that justice is not this kind of faraway fantasy. It's actually something they can seriously consider. And that the cost, whether personal or physical or emotional, is reduced, because their identity is protected and the courts can come to them wherever they live. They can just tell their story in the way that they want…. And if more survivors came forward I would hope that the level of prosecution for CSRV would increase. That would be incredible.” 

‘Ongwen’ depicts Dominic Ongwen facing trial at the ICC. He wasfound guilty for crimes against humanity and war crimes(including CRSV) committed in Northern Uganda. Artist: Jaye Ho

If you’d like to dig in further…

📘 Read about the first Sprint and initial research findings – New technology for CRSV Accountability

👀 Follow this pilot’s journey on their pilot profile page (regularly updated)

🎬 Watch this video of Jaye explaining the role of disguise in her 2020 exhibition ‘The Vanishing Act’ (1 minute watch)