Why society fails women who seek accountability

When women step forward with allegations of harassment, I often think about the courage it takes to do so and the unbearable weight that follows, instead of being seen as survivors seeking accountability, they are scrutinised, vilified, and sometimes cast out from their professional and social circles it becomes a lonely and alienating journey.

The response is not just a reflection of flawed justice systems; it’s a mirror held up to society, showing us how poorly we handle uncomfortable truths.

Even celebrities with wealth and influence aren’t immune. Blake Lively, a Hollywood A-lister, has recently found herself under intense scrutiny following her allegations against Justin Baldoni.

Here's where the problem deepens, Lively has long cultivated a public persona of being the 'good girl' , the wholesome, radiant celebrity who kept her private life private, often presented as the girl next door.

But with her recent allegations, there's been a shift.

Public perception has begun to paint her as someone who may be using her voice for attention or financial gain. The shift in the narrataive can also be attributed to contradictions in her own public statements and actions.

Let’s not forget that Lively has been perceived as tone-deaf at times, especially regarding her privileged position in the industry. Her actions, including some highly criticised interviews and interactions, make it easier for some people to question her motives.

But here’s the thing: while I agree that Blake Lively has played a part in her own downfall, especially in how she handled the promotion of It Ends With Us which is a movie about domestic violence but was presented as a fun rom-com on the press tour,this misstep certainly fueled the public backlash and has contributed to much of the hate she’s receiving.

The resurfaced clips from her old interviews also don’t align with the carefully crafted persona she built over the years. But that doesn’t mean her experience isn’t valid. Two things can be true at once: Lively can have moments of tone-deafness or privilege while still having been sexually harassed.

The scrutiny she’s facing shouldn’t invalidate her allegations, and no woman should have her claims erased for any reason.

If we go down the memory lane and take a closer look at Virginia Giuffre's case against Prince Andrew, it’s hard not to see the power imbalance at play. Here’s a woman, a survivor, who had the courage to speak out about the abuse she allegedly suffered at the hands of one of the most powerful men in the world: the Duke of York.

Prince Andrew, with his royal titles, connections, and wealth, had the kind of influence that could make any allegation disappear. But if that's not all, all these revelations came after Jeffrey Epstein's sex trafficking was brought to light and Prince Andrew’s association with Esptien is public knowledge, making us wonder what part he played in all of this.

Giuffre’s accusations were met with all kinds of resistance—public attacks on her character, legal battles, and, let’s be honest, a lot of people questioning her motives. It wasn’t just a fight for justice; it was a fight against an entire system built to protect the powerful.

If the trial would’ve gone ahead it would have been a media circus, sure, but the consequences of going up against Andrew were clear: this wasn’t a battle she could win in a court of public opinion.

Ultimately, she was forced into a settlement. No trial, no accountability, just a hefty financial payoff and a "donation" to her charity. Prince Andrew, meanwhile, sidestepped any real consequences. He didn’t admit guilt, didn’t face a jury, and still managed to shield his reputation.
What’s undeniable here is the message it sends: even when you have the truth on your side, speaking out against the rich and powerful comes with a price. In the end, Giuffre’s case wasn’t just about seeking justice, it was about surviving in a system that’s rigged against people like her.

And then there’s the incident involving Pakistani playwright Khalil-ur-Rehman Qamar. Last year, the writer claimed he was tricked into a meeting, abducted, and robbed as part of a “honey trap” case.

He alleged that he was lured into a meeting under the pretense of discussing a drama project, only to be abducted and robbed by a group led by a woman named Amna Arooj.

Amna Urooj's lawyer meanwhile claimed that Khalil had been blackmailing Amna for a month, threatening to release compromising photos. He disclosed that initially, Khalil’s manager had contacted Amna for a business opportunity, but the situation soured when Khalil demanded personal favours for career advancement.

The lawyer also revealed that incriminating evidence, including chats and photos, was found on a mobile phone in police custody. He stated that Khalil visited Amna twice, later pressuring her for a physical relationship under threat of exposure. The situation escalated when Hasan Shah, the alleged mastermind, arrived and reportedly kidnapped both Amna and Khalil.

What made matters worse was that Amna also accused the police of torture, claiming that she was slapped, given electric shocks, and pressured to provide a statement declaring the incident a honey trap.

The truth of the incident remains murky, but authorities continue to label the case as "honey trap," leaving me wondering about the power dynamics at play which ultimately led to the women admitting to crimes which she ;later claimed she didn’t commit.

We like to believe that society has progressed, but the way we treat women who speak out tells a different story. These are not isolated incidents. Studies like those published in the Quarterly Journal of Economics show how harassment forces women out of jobs, disrupting their careers and financial independence. Meanwhile, research in Nature Communications links workplace mistreatment to depression, anxiety, and burnout. It’s not just the harassment—it’s the aftermath that crushes their spirits.

As this case unfolds, I can’t help but feel disheartened. The world’s reaction to women who speak out is often another layer of their trauma. It’s not just about what happens in court or on social media—it’s about how society responds, and right now, we’re failing miserably.

We need to stop tearing women down when they’re already fighting to stand tall. Instead of pitting them against one another, we need to foster empathy, support, and understanding. Because until we change how we respond to survivors, we’ll keep silencing voices that deserve to be heard. And that’s a failure that's on all of us.