When you watch a true-crime documentary, pick up a newspaper, or read court reports in the media, a very specific story is usually being sold to you. The headlines present a world that is neat, simple, and easy to digest. On one side, you have a completely blameless person who was minding their own business. On the other side, you have a monstrous, evil stranger who appeared out of nowhere.
In criminology, we look closely at this setup using a framework developed by the Norwegian criminologist Nils Christie. He called this the construction of the ideal victim. Christie explained that the status of a victim is not just a biological fact; it is a socially constructed identity from decades ago. An ideal victim is simply a person or a category of individuals who, when hit by crime, are most readily given complete and legitimate status by society, the media, and the legal system.
But for everyday people living through trauma, this ideal standard is a dangerous trap. Real life is rarely neat. Real harm is messy, complicated, and full of hanging threads – it’s up to us to decide which one to pull. However, when your experience does not fit the perfect media script, the system does not just fail to protect you, it actively turns the spotlight around and makes you look like the problem.
The Rules of Selective Sympathy
Christie built his theory to explain how institutions and the media ration their empathy. To be granted the status of an ideal victim, his research shows you have to meet a strict set of unwritten rules. You must be seen as completely weak and defenseless. You must have been doing something entirely respectable when the crime happened. You must not have had any prior relationship or contact with the offender, and the person who harmed you must be an obvious, unknown, bad guy. Finally, you must act entirely submissive, showing your trauma in a way that makes others feel comfortable.
UK critical criminologists Rob Mawby and Sandra Walklate have taken this further through their work in critical victimology. They argue that the state uses these rigid stereotypes as a gatekeeping tool. Because public resources are heavily starved, institutions use the ideal victim checklist to decide who gets priority and who gets ignored.
If a person meets all of Christie’s criteria, the media will champion their cause. The state will prioritise the case, and institutions will roll out every available service to show the public how good they are at safeguarding. Their stories are polished for public relations because it makes the authorities look competent, and it gives the media the dramatic, simple storyline they want for clicks and coverage.
But what happens when you do not fit this perfect mould? If you are strong, if you are angry, or if you have a complicated history, your credibility is instantly questioned. Mawby and Walklate point out that the media and the justice system use a lack of perfection as an excuse to avoid doing the heavy, time-consuming work of a proper investigation. Your case is marginalised simply because you do not look like a submissive character in a television drama.
The False Face of the Offender
This media construction does not just distort who the victim is, it also completely misunderstands the perpetrator. The public expects an abuser to look and act like an obvious thug – stereotyping out and proud. They expect them to be erratic, visibly unhinged, and easily identifiable by the police, and often they are not.
In reality, sophisticated offenders understand how the ideal victim script works, and they use it to their advantage. They are experts at hiding in plain sight and what they did but showing a respectable face to the world. They will actively step into the light to perform a clean, respectable public image, using society’s own biases to mask their actions. By allowing perpetrators to weaponise this media script, the system becomes a part of the problem. It actively helps the abuser hide their actions while leaving the victim to carry the emotional and financial weight completely alone.
Misogyny and Institutional Blindness
When a non-ideal victim tries to get help, they quickly realise that the system is not neutral. It is actively shaped by quiet misogyny and prejudice (women as well as men). Many frontline officers and professionals hold a hidden hierarchy in their minds about whose lives are worthy of understanding and whose are not.
If your life, your background, or your response to trauma does not fit neatly within their personal values, beliefs, or biases, the gaps start to appear. These gaps dictate what is believed, what is recorded in the official reports, how the case is constructed, and what is ultimately dismissed as irrelevant.
Instead of looking at the factual evidence, the system focuses on policing the victim’s behaviour. They pick apart her tone of voice, her past decisions, and her mental health. They expect her to behave like a flawless, silent character before they decide to believe her. The moment she shows the raw, messy exhaustion of real survival, they label her as difficult or unstable. This is where the victim begins to disappear entirely from the process.
Flipping the Script
We cannot challenge the abuse of power while we allow the media and the state to dictate who is allowed to be a victim. Real harm refuses to sit in isolation for the convenience of a police report or a newspaper headline. The rules of the ideal victim are designed to protect institutions from having to face the structural chaos and systemic inequalities that exist right in front of us. True justice only begins when we are willing to sit with the messiness, ask the right questions about the true origins of the behaviour, regardless of who is receiving the harm and who is inflicting it.
