Photo: LM Otero / AP

Many of us live in a bubble where technology is a magical thing, a thing to be fiercely but safely debated on Twitter and in the blogosphere … which is why we don’t realize that tech has become the latest and most divisive actor (along with religion and politics) in discussions about sex trafficking.

When most people think of sex trafficking — a form of violence where people are sexually exploited for commercial purposes — they immediately think of stereotypical images. Like that of a vulnerable girl exploited by a pimp. An innocent schoolkid targeted online by a pedophile. An illicit connection between predator and unwitting prey, made on a site like Craigslist or Facebook.

But domestic minor sex trafficking is more often about young people who are homeless, yet turned away from crowded shelters. About teens exploited by family members (or kicked out of the house for being gay or transgender). Or about youths simply trying to escape other forms of violence. In other words: systemic factors that have little to do with the actions of predators.

This is where technology — which mirrors and magnifies the good, bad, and ugly — complicates, and plays a complicated role, in the human trafficking landscape. Technology may seem like a neutral player in a fractious field, but it’s not.

This domain is fraught. The boundaries are contested and there are conflicting views on how to proceed. For example, one group of advocates long clamored for classified-ad sites, like Craigslist or Backpage, to be abolished — holding on to false hopes that eliminating these platforms would eliminate exploitation. Other groups have advocated for using advertising networks on technological platforms to inform abusers about the harms they are creating. While well intended, the data I’ve seen suggests that this approach is neither effective nor productive.

No technology is objective. Each is infused with the assumptions and biases of its creators. The probability of unintended consequences only increases when those designing systems are unfamiliar with the complex, messy, and nuanced realities underlying the commercial sexual exploitation of children.

That’s why changing the sex trafficking landscape requires significant collaboration across sectors and domain expertise.

Lately, there’s been a tide shift. There’s a movement afoot where technologists, social scientists, government agencies, advocates, and NGOs have started coming together to imagine and build technology-based innovations that would disrupt the commercial sexual exploitation of children. Because creating meaningful technical — and social — interventions to combat human trafficking (and other forms of exploitation) requires moving beyond fears and dreams. Beyond dystopian and utopian rhetoric.

Still, these networks and gatherings are not without their pitfalls: Different actors have different incentives, goals, and interests. But to the degree that varied constituents can put aside their differences, there are tremendous opportunities to leverage technology. This makes sense, of course. People use technology to do all sorts of useful things. Those looking to combat trafficking can use the same tools that are used to exploitative ends — the key is to recognize that when technology makes abuse visible, it creates an opportunity for intervention.

But for technology to be useful, it’s critical to understand what other factors must be aligned for a technologically mediated intervention to be effective and valuable. While tremendous money is spent imagining tech solutions (or attacking tech companies), the root of the problem often has very little to do with technology. There are many systemic factors that shape the trafficking landscape, including poverty and mental health, abuse and desperation.

Introducing technology without accounting for these factors can lead to unintended consequences. For example, many proposed technology solutions to sex trafficking focus on using data mining techniques to assist law enforcement — including the ability to identify vulnerable youth, victims, and exploiters.

But this is tricky. For one thing, law enforcement’s approach to combating exploitation isn’t always effective. Worse, it can sometimes do more harm; many vulnerable youth do not trust law enforcement, which does not always act on behalf of those who are victimized. (Even law enforcement officers with the best intentions believe arresting youth relieves them of their misery, not realizing this approach increases short-term vulnerability and creates additional barriers for recovery in the long-term.)

Furthermore, law enforcement is often disincentivized from going after powerful criminals and organized criminal activity because of their own institutional limitations, such as cross-jurisdictional issues. In some communities where there are no safe-harbor protections for victims, police may opt to arrest vulnerable youth — instead of targeting the exploiters that are much harder to identify, arrest, and prosecute.

The fundamental issue here, regardless of technology and policing protocols, is that those who are suffering don’t know where to turn as it is. There are simply not enough resources (like available beds), let alone skills-training and network-making programs to help victims find alternate financial pathways. And the organizations working to get at helping vulnerable youth before they’re abused are under-resourced and understaffed too.

Therefore, technology that increases the identification of vulnerable youth — without ensuring support structures are in place to make a difference — could actually turn out to be counterproductive.

Technology isn’t the bad guy, but it’s not a silver bullet, either. It just can’t fix the problem alone.

And it can’t offer a cheap alternative to the in-depth work that is desperately needed. So over the last two years, a group of researchers working to understand technology’s role in human trafficking have started coming together despite significant methodological and philosophical differences. We represent different political parties with differing views on personal liberty. We reflect diverse disciplinary commitments that seem peculiar, if not petty, to non-academics. Yet we recognize the importance of collectively offering data and insights from our research to help inform, invigorate, and shape the development of interventions to combat exploitation.

It’s important that those with technical expertise are entering the field, but it’s imperative that they work with advocates and researchers.

As scholars, we often struggle to translate our research into accessible, actionable pieces. But we’re trying. We put together a basic, brief primer [download] outlining the implicated youth, potential repercussions to all impacted by any technology solution, and key issues and sticking points innovators need to know before they start building technical solutions to enhance law enforcement. Since we are worried that myths, sloppy data, and salacious rhetoric are more likely to shape the development of new technologies than grounded research that’s designed to minimize bias, we also offer broader provisions — such as the importance of evidence-based, assessment-driven interventions. And we highlight the need to account for civil liberties.

While the potential for technological disruption is great, technology alone cannot and will not fix the human trafficking problem. All too often, when people fall in love with the possibilities introduced by technology, they expect it to serve as a savior — and then are disappointed when it does not.

Technology cannot fix problems that society is unable to fix, but it can offer a new tool that innovative advocates can use. Still, let’s not forget that those interventions need to be part of a much-needed, more holistic approach. This isn’t about some cool new app. Or designing for a caricatured portrait of human trafficking. When it comes to combating exploitation and violence, people’s lives are at stake.