Deepfake dystopias

Under the pretext of raising awareness of image-based sexual abuse, the reality TV star, Vicky Pattison known for her appearances on Geordie Shore, filmed and released deepfake pornography of herself as part of a recent Channel 4 documentary “Vicky Pattison: My Deepfake Sex Tape”. 

Unfortunately, while she is right to identify online abuse as a growing problem, her documentary will likely do more harm than good. Indeed, by filming her own deepfake sex tape she makes light of the experiences of ordinary women who have been victims of deepfake porn, turning what can be an anxiety or trauma-inducing experience into the subject of entertainment. 

Deepfake porn should not be being treated this blithely. 

Ordinary women are currently facing an “epidemic in online violence.” Recent research by the Open University, for example, shows that over one in 10 women in England have experienced, or been exposed to, online abuse, including threatening messages, such as rape threats and the non-consensual sharing of intimate images. For young women aged 16-24, the rate of exposure to online abuse is far higher — around one in four. 

Alarmingly high rates of online abuse have partly been put down to the growth in easily accessible online pornographic content through sites such as Pornhub and OnlyFans. Indeed, these sites not only affirm the view of women as “passive objects of lust” but enable the ready proliferation of extreme material — as anyone can view or upload anything of anyone at any time it is easy for abusive content to go unchallenged. 

Now, on top of this, women have to contend with deepfake porn, which uses increasingly advanced digital tools to create explicit sexual content without their consent. “Nudify” apps, for instance, use generative AI to digitally undress women by manipulating non-explicit images of them. Such content is particularly insidious as, at the click of a button, any online image, video or audio clip can unknowingly, become the subject of someone else’s perverted fantasy. 

It can also be endlessly manipulated and recreated, leading to the perpetual fear of abuse. In a recently reported deepfake porn case, for example, the victim highlighted how her experience led to a constant fear about posting anything online. This fear is even held by those who have not yet been “deepfaked”. Indeed, a recent survey by ESET, a cybersecurity firm, has shown that 61 per cent of British women are concerned about becoming a victim of deepfake pornography.

Time and again, issues that degrade women’s autonomy have been sidelined

Given the scale of the deepfake problem, concern is understandable. From 2019 to 2023, the number of deepfakes is estimated to have risen by 550 per cent, with the vast majority of these going after women — a 2023 study of around 96,000 deepfakes found that 98 per cent were pornographic and 99 per cent of those targeted women. 

Yet, worryingly, the rise of deepfake porn appears to have gone hand-in-hand with its trivialisation as just another risk of going online, or a mere celebrity gimmick. 

Sadly, this is not surprising. Time and again, issues that degrade women’s autonomy have been sidelined, even when widespread. For example, it was not until 2015 that revenge porn was criminalised in the UK. Despite ruining numerous lives for years prior, legal systems were slow to respond. 

As things stand, the Government risks making the same mistake with deepfake porn. 

Presently, it is only a criminal offence to share sexual deepfakes not to create them and victims need to prove that a deepfake was intended to cause distress, and even then, offenders are only subjected to fines.

Although there are some signs of progress, these do not go far enough. The UK government is currently seeking to make it an offence to take, create and share an intimate image, without consent. The new offence will also carry a two-year maximum sentence. This reduces the burden of proof on victims and should make it easier to prosecute offenders.

However, even this effort to stem online abuse primarily focuses on individual perpetrators and tip-toes around addressing the platforms which enable the spread of deepfake content. For instance, advertisements for apps which could be used to create explicit content are rife on social media, yet are not covered by the legislation. Neither has there been a meaningful push by the new Government for porn websites to have rigorous safeguards to prevent the spread of deepfake content. 

It is little wonder then that the internet is becoming an increasingly unsafe place for women. 

One consequence of this is that women are effectively being forced to adapt their online presence to this reality. Indeed, the persistent exposure to online abuse — or the mere fear of it — is leading women to self-censor, limit their participation in public forums and even to consider going offline altogether. 

This is troubling, but things could still get far more dystopian. 

The effectiveness of online abuse at chilling women’s freedom of expression may further embolden the online communities which already lionise misogyny and are wholly opposed to feminism. This could lead to an expanding and increasingly extreme “manosphere” that squeezes women to the periphery of online spaces. And, once pushed to the edges of the online world, the need for civil interactions between the sexes is further reduced. As such, it is not hard to imagine the development of increasingly bifurcated online worlds, where men and women have fewer interactions and share far less in common. 

Worse yet, any rifts which develop online are unlikely to stay online. Indeed, social media-fuelled divisions between the sexes are already cropping up in the “real” world. In politics, for instance, young women and men hold increasingly divergent political beliefs and worldviews, with women becoming more progressive and men more conservative.

So, without a change of course, we could find ourselves at the Rubicon for gender relations. 

Cracking down on deepfake porn may not make the online world a paragon of civility or heal gender divisions. But, by making abusive content harder to create, access and view, we may make it easier to reclaim some of the internet’s original promise as a space for connection — regardless of gender.

The digital world should not be a place where women’s autonomy is constantly under threat. It is high time we took online abuse seriously.