The true harm of stigma: media language and its impact on female perpetrators of non-violent crime - Guest blog from Francesca Barker-Mills

Stigma doesn’t exist in silos. The experiences of people in prison are deeply connected to the discrimination faced by people affected by drug and alcohol use. Tackling stigma anywhere helps break it down everywhere. By sharing these stories, we can better understand stigma in all its forms.

Who hasn't picked up the local paper or scrolled through social media to see the latest mug shot of Brenda who's been caught shoplifting from Tesco again? And I'm sure much like the many "Brendas" I see in my local rag or on my Facebook feed; she's one of many women up and down the country being publicly shamed for a misdeed too many. Now, this blog is not to detract from the importance of responsibility and accountability, nor is it to undermine the severity of crime, criminality and what it is to break the laws of this country; it is however to give humanity, humility and reality to what negative media reporting and the stigma it perpertuates does - it causes harm to us all. A branded and broken woman who lives under the shadow of her mistakes, is a woman disenchanted, disengaged and consumed by her label - the scourge of society.

The media wields significant power in shaping societal perceptions, particularly regarding marginalised groups. Female perpetrators of non-violent crimes frequently face disproportionate stigmatisation through language that reinforces negative stereotypes and prejudice and let us not beat around the bush - this is a gendered issue. 

Stigma is more than just a social label - it is a force that defines lives, shaping opportunity, access, and perception. Nowhere is this more evident than in the media’s portrayal of women with criminal records, particularly those convicted of non-violent offenses. Unlike their male counterparts, women are judged not only for their actions but also for their perceived failures as mothers, caregivers, and conformists to gender norms. Sensationalised headlines, morally charged language, and persistent digital footprints act as an extended sentence, limiting their ability to move beyond past mistakes.

"Women offenders tend to be portrayed in the media in ways that emphasise their deviance from traditional femininity, leading to harsher judgment and heightened stigma compared to their male counterparts," (Jewkes, 2015). 

Erving Goffman (1963) describes stigma as a “spoiled identity”- a mark that permanently discredits an individual in the eyes of society. For women with criminal records, this “spoiling” is exacerbated by gendered media narratives. Studies show that women offenders are more likely than men to have their family roles highlighted in crime reporting, reinforcing the notion that they have failed as women (Jewkes, 2015). Headlines often include phrases like ‘mum of two jailed for fraud’ or ‘former teacher convicted of theft,’ linking a woman’s criminality to her social identity, whereas male offenders are more commonly framed in neutral or circumstantial terms. This subtle linguistic bias deepens the social punishment women face, reinforcing the perception that their actions are not just criminal but also a moral failure.

Academic studies highlight that media reporting significantly contributes to creating and perpetuating stigma. Jewkes (2015) argues that sensationalist reporting disproportionately affects women offenders, casting them into stereotypical roles, often portraying them as morally deficient or inherently deviant. 

Day one of the Coming Home Project workshops discuss this in the most accessible, conversational way possible, whilst navigating the dangers of triggering and re-traumatising participants. I hand out various laminated headlines

"Mum of two," "Dishonest, arrogant, cruel," "Respected gran," "Mum, 41," "A life of Crime," "Criminals caged,"

 

 

I asked my most recent cohort of ladies, fresh from prison - how do headlines like these make you feel? How does this language make you feel?

"Hopeless," was the most heart wrenching response but I couldn't agree more. Hopeless.

 

Recent research indicates profound impacts arising from stigmatising media portrayals. A UK-based study by Prison Reform Trust (2018) found that negative media portrayals exacerbate social isolation, hinder employment opportunities, and perpetuate psychological harm, significantly delaying reintegration post-incarceration. This we know, and I certainly do more than most.

In the weeks leading up to my release from prison, an employment officer in the prison asked me what I wanted to do for work when I returned home - I said I wanted to do exactly what I was doing before I came to prison - we were in the throws of global pandemic, and I had been incarcerated for just 10 months, it was a blip as far as the rest of the world was concerned; I was in lockdown like the rest of the world, just with more bars, blood and a different type of trauma Covid-19 left on the prison estate in the UK.

The officer laughed - "and what are your salary expectations?" - I replied, "the same as I was on before I came to prison?" I was perplexed. Prior to my imprisonment, I had been all in all a reformed, rehabilitated human being, with flaws and ripples from the crime I had committed many years before, but by and large, stable. Medicated. Employed. Housed. Married. The laughter continued and the abject hilarity at my hopeful return home to normality and to life and to contributing to the household and family I had left behind. 

Perhaps I should have been more realistic but as I write this in 2025, I am equally as incensed as I was then.

Why should I manage my expectations? Hopes? Aspirations? Education? Career? Why? Because I served a short sentence for a white collar crime.

And lo' - I came home from prison and I read the press reports and all of a sudden it became apparent why my ideals of coming home and getting back to normal, life, wife and future were a ridiculous notion.

I googled myself, and the footprint was brutal. Page one, every listing - me. Page two, me. The good, the bad, the ugly and my was it ugly. Not just the press reporting, the articles, but the comments, the keyboard warriors who had never lived a moment in my life, walked in my shoes, but were quick to type the true sentence all women who go to prison should receive - life. And that's what I got. Life. In digital form, forever.

Digital footprints amplify the social isolation, they exist in a loop, whereby your re-traumatised, re-sentenced, re-punished, they suffocate employment opportunities as quickly as you've sent your CV, and shared your LinkedIn; google has bested you.

The digital archives and long lives of press reporting cyclically perpetuate psychological harm, bolstering the us and them narrative which fundamentally distorts, delays and sometimes, derails ones ability to reintegrate post-incarceration.

It's by design. This specific use of gendered language. To take aim at those already susceptable to victimisation and marginalisation; women. The monstrous nature of women who breach the guise and illusion of femininity and what it is to be a woman. Women who commit crime; particularly non-violent ones are judged more harshly because they are seen as failing in their expected roles as caregivers, nurturers, and moral guardians. It's the classic "double deviance" framework (Lloyd, 1995) who suggests that women are punished not just for their crimes but also for stepping outside societal expectations of femininity; I'd be inclined to think this is why we have seen a dispproprionate number of women sentenced to custody in recent years, with the evolution of digital media and constant conversation and communication through social media, the desire to feed the punitive and greedy public baying for justice drives the media machine all the more. Women who offend are often depicted in the media as either mad (emotionally unstable, mentally ill) or bad (manipulative, deceitful, morally corrupt). How Bronte-esque. Mad or bad, but that is on us, not on the societal and systematic failings those of us often branded as such required by means of intervention, correction and deterrence. Heaven forbid the onus be on the societal construct, archetype. Best the blame is placed at the feet of those who sit under the literal boot of justice and punishment. 

The penchant for sensationalist reporting tends to focus on women's personal lives, relationships, and failures as mothers, rather than the broader systemic issues that may have contributed to their offending - poverty, coercion, abuse. A woman convicted of fraud may be labeled a "scheming seductress" rather than a product of socio-economic hardship.

There is a reason for carousel of criminality and reoffending in this country, as Carlen and Worrall (2004) illustrate; when female offenders experience intensified marginalisation through media narratives that emphasise gendered expectations and violations, society and community are further alienating these women from opportunities for rehabilitation and reintegration.

The consequences of this stigma extend beyond employment and housing. Research by Penal Reform International (2019) highlights that female ex-offenders face higher levels of social isolation than men upon release. Family rejection, community ostracisation, and economic hardship contribute to poor mental health, with many women internalising the media’s portrayal of them as irredeemable.

This is particularly damaging given that many women in the criminal justice system are themselves victims of trauma, coercion, and abuse (Carlen & Worrall, 2004). When the media frames them as unfit mothers or manipulative offenders, it ignores the systemic failures that often underpin their actions. Instead of being seen as individuals with the capacity for change, they are reduced to permanent labels -‘schemer,’ ‘scammer,’ ‘fraudster’- terms that offer no room for redemption.

This social stigma undermines rehabilitation universally; instead of seeing women as individuals capable of reform; society directly influenced by these media narratives continues to identify them solely with their past crimes. The result is that punishment extends beyond prison and becomes a life sentence. This sense of permanence was reflected by one woman who shared with Unlock; felt that despite serving just a 6 month sentence, felt that "the prejudice and stigma felt like a life sentence,"

The persistence of negative media coverage also has practical consequences. A study by the University of Portsmouth (2019) found that digital media archives create a “personal digital criminal legacy,” making reintegration difficult as employers, landlords, and even communities use Google searches as informal background checks. Women report being turned away from jobs and housing because of articles published years; or even decades earlier, solidifying their exclusion from mainstream society.

Women with non-violent offences (for example, shoplifting or fraud) often find that prospective employers Google their names; this Google Effect often leads them to discover news articles or mugshots, effectively revealing more than any official background check ever would. This informal “Google check” can expose convictions that are legally spent and need not be disclosed – undermining UK rehabilitation laws that are meant to protect people from old convictions.  

Finding a job is one of the biggest hurdles for ex-offenders, with the probability of reoffending doubling for those who don't have stable employment upon release from prison. The negative media coverage makes it ten times harder for those of us with criminal records to secure jobs. Even more so, the jobs we actually want. Many employers admit, they're hesitant to hire someone with criminal past; it's fear of public perception, it's arse covering at it's finest, it's reputation management and repetitional risk if the world finds out you've got one of us in the office - employers still tend to "assume the worst,"

One UK study noted that online media coverage had a “much larger detrimental effect” on white-collar offenders’ job prospects than expected, leaving some long-term unemployed and others able to find only gig work where “fewer questions are asked”.

In my first 6 months home from prison, I was hired and fired three times, despite having open and honest conversations and upfront disclosure, because why not? I spent a prison sentence and many years prior to my incarceration coming to terms with who I was then and what I had done, what had lead me there, the prison sentence if anything was a mark of resilience and recovery as much as it was reparation. I knew the digital footprint would speak louder than I ever could, so I fought fire with fire and faced it head on - take me or leave me, but I'm damn near perfect for this job. And I was, all three times, working my little socks off, earning my way back to stability - vital when considering my offending triggers and the slippery slopes that lead me to unravel back in 2016. The first was abject humiliation truth be told, and cowardly beyond measure. Monday morning, logging in for the first meeting of the day, bright eyed and bushy tailed ready to talk SEO and strategy - the irony. Microsoft Office login failed, how odd. Microsoft Teams, credentials failed. A quick call to IT to resolve it ahead of a 9am start - IT say speak to HR, odd, why would HR be better placed to sort out the Microsoft login issues. Well HR were indeed the people I needed to speak to, thanks for your hard work Fran, but after someone across the pond in the higher echelons of the company decided to have a little poke into the excon marketing manager; it was thanks but no thanks.

Now; a dismissal in a probationary period I could have taken on the chin. The ceremonious logging out and hiding behind HR on a Monday morning; I found much less palatable. Moreover, I found it hugely disrespectful of my upfront and honest approach to have been met with such shrouded and devious behaviour. As I say, the irony.

YouGov survey included in a great article by the incredible Lady Unchained in the UK found that around half of employers would not consider hiring an ex-offender at all. 

 

I despair.

 

However; all is not lost - there is a growing movement advocating for the ‘right to be forgotten' - the ability for individuals to request that outdated or irrelevant convictions be de-indexed from search engines. While not a blanket solution, it represents a step toward restoring dignity and fairness for those who have served their time.

The appointment of James Timpson as the new Minister of Justice brings a unique and transformative opportunity to reshape how society supports individuals leaving prison. Timpson, known for his commitment to social justice and second chances, has long championed the employment of ex-offenders through his family business, where over 10% of employees are individuals with criminal records. His approach is built on the belief that providing meaningful work and dignity is the key to reducing reoffending and ensuring true rehabilitation.

However, employment opportunities must go beyond traditional roles in cobblers and photo print shops - women leaving prison must be offered a genuine clean slate, with pathways into diverse industries where they have the freedom to choose careers that align with their skills, ambitions, and potential. Timpson's influence in government presents an opportunity to extend this philosophy beyond employment and into the broader landscape of reintegration, including the media’s role in shaping public perceptions of ex-offenders.

If Timpson applies the same pressure and purview to media reporting as he has to fair hiring practices, he could play a pivotal role in challenging the stigma perpetuated by sensationalist journalism. His tenure should include advocating for ethical reporting guidelines, encouraging news outlets to move away from dehumanising language, and supporting legislative measures such as expanding the ‘right to be forgotten’ for individuals with spent convictions. By tackling both economic and reputational barriers, Timpson has the potential to shift the conversation around rehabilitation; ensuring that justice is not just about punishment, but about genuine opportunity for all.

If the goal of justice is rehabilitation, then the media must play a role in allowing women to rebuild their lives. Ethical journalism should recognise the human cost of its narratives.

The media’s role in perpetuating stigma is not just a matter of biased reporting; it is a fundamental issue of justice and public safety. When the press consistently labels women with criminal records in ways that strip them of their humanity and reduce them to their past mistakes, it creates insurmountable barriers to reintegration. This, in turn, increases the likelihood of reoffending, making media narratives not just harmful to individuals but counterproductive to public protection.

By denying these women a true second chance, the media contributes to a cycle of exclusion, poverty, and social alienation; factors that directly correlate with increased criminal behaviour. If the goal of criminal justice is rehabilitation, then responsible reporting must align with this objective rather than undermine it.

What the media can and should do better

  • Adopt ethical journalism standards that avoid sensationalism and dehumanisation.

  • Ensure balanced reporting that recognises the full context of a woman’s conviction and rehabilitation efforts.

  • Contextualised storytelling: Acknowledging the socio-economic and personal circumstances that lead women to crime, rather than dehumanising them.

  • Limit digital permanence by reviewing policies around crime reporting archives and allowing for content de-indexing where appropriate.

  • Use responsible language that acknowledges a woman’s capacity for change rather than reinforcing a lifetime of stigma. 

  • Person-first language: Emphasising the individual rather than defining them by their offence (e.g., ‘a woman with a conviction’ rather than ‘a convicted fraudster’).

  • Digital responsibility: Re-evaluating the necessity of permanent online archives that serve no public interest but severely hinder reintegration efforts.

 

Globally, advocacy and anti-stigma initiatives call for a more ethical approach to media reporting on female offenders. Scholars advocate for adopting trauma-informed journalism practices that recognise the humanity and potential for change within each individual(Maruna, 2001). While Maruna's seminal work, Making Good: How Ex-Convicts Reform and Rebuild Their Lives (2001), does not specifically address trauma-informed journalism, it delves into the processes of desistance and the importance of societal support in the reintegration of ex-offenders. Maruna emphasises that recognising the humanity and potential for change in individuals with criminal records is crucial for their successful reintegration. This perspective aligns with the principles of trauma-informed journalism, which advocates for reporting that acknowledges the personal histories and traumas of individuals, thereby promoting empathy and reducing stigma.​ Responsible media engagement, guided by principles of dignity, privacy, and the right to rehabilitation, is essential in combating stigma and promoting social justice.

Justice is not served when punishment extends beyond the prison gates in the form of relentless public shaming. True public protection comes from policies and societal attitudes that enable rehabilitation, not from a media landscape that weaponises past mistakes.

 

In conclusion, critical examination and restructuring of media language concerning female perpetrators of non-violent crime are vital. Academic research, cultural analysis, and real-world experiences collectively emphasise the urgency to challenge stigmatising narratives. Redefining media practices is not only ethically necessary but fundamentally transformative, promoting rehabilitation, societal integration, and the fundamental human rights of affected women.

_____________________

Francesca Barker-Mills

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