An unfiltered truth: The Consequences of Public Exposure to Graphic Trauma Narratives

There is nothing redeemable about the crimes associated with Jeffrey Epstein or Ghislaine Maxwell. Their actions fall outside the boundaries of societal norms. But the public’s intense consumption of graphic trauma narratives, most recently the memoir of the late Virginia Giuffre does raise some urgent concerns: 

What happens when the general population absorbs trauma material that would normally require a clinical setting, professional skills and peer support?

There is also a timely need to make sense of this intense consumption of traumatic material by the lay public. Is it related to a silent prevalence of childhood sexual abuse (CSA) and the innate need to make sense of the non-sensical? And what happens to people exposed to this material regularly such as with weekly releases of true crime podcasts, or the latest Netflix installment, often viewed as a “binge”? 

It is important to note that any data about the prevalence of sexual abuse is likely underestimating the truth. Despite awareness about the need for treatment, and an improvement in the understanding of the need to fund and support services for victims, many do not come forward to report or seek treatment. Often victims will seek treatment with a different calling card, consciously or not, seeking help for mood problems, sleep disturbance, or chronic pain. In addition, many patients do not identify themselves as survivors until late adulthood, often prompted by external triggers, triggering memories to be brought to the fore.

Lawyers see the same pattern in historical abuse matters: fractured memory, shame-driven avoidance, inconsistent timelines and non-linear disclosure, which is understandable for those who are experts in assessing and managing people living with the sequelae of abuse. 

What remains under-recognised is how much of this large reservoir of unresolved trauma is activated when the public is exposed to graphic material.

Virginia Giuffre’s memoir contains detail of a magnitude that psychiatrists or psychologists would normally gather over multiple sessions and months if not years of therapy, Therapy that is grounded in the importance of establishing safety, teaching relaxation and mindfulness techniques to help manage intense moments of distress, and tolerating late cancellations and missed appointments when the patient cannot confront their reality. Therapists seek out professional supervision and support and discuss cases with their peers to establish understanding and a sharing of distress. They pay attention to their clinical case load and casemix so as not to become distressed and overwhelmed themselves, pacing themselves with their exposure to other’s trauma and distress. This is particularly crucial as they cannot discuss their clinical work with their usual support amongst friends and family. At times they may need to escalate to crisis services when patients become unwell, and to seek safety, which is often unpredictable.

When watching a Netflix series or reading a personal memoir, none of these protective factors are present. And it is entirely possible for a lay viewer or reader to become distressed from graphic content, regardless of whether they have their own personal account of trauma. 

When trauma is absorbed without containment there is the chance that neural systems can be activated, even if there is no personal sharing of the material. Think of a normal response to watching a horror movie or riding on a rollercoaster upside down. The amygdala is activated, the sympathetic nervous system causes the heart to race and cortisol is released to a stimulus that actually can't harm the viewer physically. And if there are traumatic memories present they can be reactivated, sometimes for the first time. 

Trauma survivors try to control their environment as much as they can in order to reduce the chances of being reminded of their own stories of abuse. They avoid watching news or certain TV shows. Others become preoccupied with digesting this content in an attempt to understand their own predicament. In both instances, there is a risk of an increase in flashbacks, periods of dissociation, and an escalation in suicidal thoughts. 

This is the mechanism by which a public memoir has the capability to cause clinical consequences. And, if this is the case, then why do so many people expose himself to material that can make them feel worse? 

For some it is an attempt to make sense of their own experiences. Others who weren’t believed or feel alone in their experience can feel a sense of connectedness with people they do not know, but have shared a similar journey. Being dismissed or invalidated causes secondary harm for victims who find this one of the most distressing parts of their experience. And importantly, even though the state of chronic hyperarousal is distressing it is familiar for some. That familiarity can be helpful, even if it causes consequences later. Being exposed to traumatic events can cause a person to either be in a state of hyperarousal, and at other times, they feel nothing; there is no in between. Searching for feeling something can over weigh the feeling of being numb. 

Clinicians anticipate increased presentations for assistance, as well as a decompensation of those already in therapy at times like this. Unfiltered media exposure to the predicament of a perpetrator who is exposed or is perceived to be evading consequence with no admission or apology, can exacerbate and worsen pre-existing mental illness. There will be a health consequence of releasing the “Epstein Files” and the likely media storm to follow. 

There should be an ethical debate, guided by the victims about how much of the material should be released for public scrutiny. Although there is an understandable need to expose perpetrators, there must be an understanding and a commitment to genuinely support those inadvertently harmed by the content of the files. And a call to recognise that graphic trauma is not neutral information, despite it turning up in Netflix documentaries or news feeds. This is in the context in which up to one in four adults may carry trauma from childhood sexual abuse. 

The release of Giuffre’s memoir, and the public’s intense engagement with it, should be interpreted as a clinical signal of underlying distress. If the unredacted Epstein files are ever released, the psychological impact will not be marginal or confined to survivors already known to systems. It will be population-wide, affecting people whose trauma has never been disclosed, recognised or processed.

Virginia Giuffre’s story deserved to be told. It is crucial that we remember that graphic trauma exposure destabilises the community because trauma is already embedded in the community.

The truth is essential, but it is also capable of causing or exacerbating clinical distress. We must prepare for both.