Guest Post: Understanding Paedophiles Is Essential If We Are To Effectively Protect Children
A common and justifiable outrage is reflected in the recent Lovin Malta article demanding public access to Malta’s sex offenders registry: how can those who commit unimaginable crimes against children be protected by the law while the public is kept in the dark? I understand the frustration. That there is any child sexual abuse at all infuriates me. However, as a sexologist and psychotherapist in this profession, I would like to provide another layer to the conversation, one that is frequently disregarded and occasionally despised for even being raised, by presenting what research and science tell us about paedophilia. It has nothing to do with shielding perpetrators. The goal is to ensure that abuse never occurs again.
Let’s begin with an unsettling fact: paedophilia is a psychological disorder rather than a decision. The DSM-5 defines a persistent sexual interest in prepubescent children as paedophilic disorder. Then there’s hebephilia, which is sexual interest in pubescent children (up to the legal age of consent in the respective country). It is a mental health diagnosis, not a criminal offence. Many people who have this attraction never cause offence. Because they don’t want to hurt anyone, some even go to therapy to help control their cravings. However, it is right that individuals who do follow these impulses—those who witness, share, or engage in abuse—are prosecuted.
What should society do with them after? That is the question. Do we deny them access to homes, employment, and the community and publicly humiliate them? Or do we advocate for measures that lessen the likelihood that they will ever cause damage again? The purpose of POMA is to safeguard children. Is it performing as well as it might, though? A legal registry of those convicted of sexual offences against minors is established by Malta’s Protection of Minors Act (POMA). It is only available to organisations that deal directly with children, and only after submitting an application to the Civil Court. The process can be more efficient and quicker.
But moving to the opposite extreme—making the list public—is also not the solution. International research confirms why. Abuse is not prevented by public registers. On the contrary, sometimes they increase the likelihood. People convicted of child sexual offences are frequently named, photographed, and physically mapped online for life in the United States, where sex offender registries are completely open to the public. However, a thorough analysis published in the Journal of Law and Economics (Prescott & Rockoff, 2011) revealed that public notification had no effect on the number of repeat crimes and, in certain situations, actually raised recidivism. Why? Because people lose their employment when they are permanently dubbed “paedophiles.” They’re kicked out. They are assaulted. They conceal themselves. They stop going to therapy. Most importantly, they are no longer motivated to securely reintegrate into society. According to studies, these conditions: isolation, despair, and desperation are major risk factors for reoffending (Levenson & Tewksbury, 2009). Indeed, social stability—like having a job, a home, and support from the community—is one of the best indicators of not reoffending, according to a Canadian study of sex offender treatment programs.
But the impact doesn’t stop with the offender. What happens to their mother, who did nothing wrong but now has to face the neighbours every time she steps out for groceries? What happens to their own children—children who must change schools because their peers found their father’s name online? In the UK, there have been reports of children being bullied, harassed, or even assaulted simply because a parent was on the sex offender register. In one case in Florida, USA, a woman’s house was firebombed after local vigilantes mistook her address for that of a registered sex offender—he had never even lived there. In another, a man’s wife was dismissed from her job purely because of her association with someone on the public list.
So we must ask ourselves: are we prepared for this? If Malta’s registry goes public, are we ready to accept the consequences? Will we justify bullying a child because of their mother ‘s / father’s past? Will we be indifferent when a mother is shunned, when siblings lose jobs, or when innocent family members are attacked or threatened? Do we want a justice system that punishes not just the guilty, but anyone related to them? If not, we must think carefully about what kind of society we are building.
If we believe in rehabilitation, then we must also believe in the possibility of change. If someone has served their sentence, completed therapy, and is actively trying to reintegrate into society, they deserve the opportunity to do so without being judged for life. There must be space for people to rebuild, to prove that they are more than the worst thing they’ve done. Lifelong punishment denies any path to redemption and fuels cycles of marginalisation that, ironically, increase the risk of future harm. Public shaming does not reduce danger—it reinforces it.
Therefore, if protecting children is the aim, we need to consider if we are fostering environments that lower or raise risk. How does being listed on a public registry feel? For a brief moment, let’s attempt to picture the experience from the perspective of the convicted. You’ve been found guilty. Your punishment has been fulfilled. You’ve gone to therapy. You must check in with the police and adhere to stringent guidelines after being added to a sex offenders register. However, your neighbours yell at you because your name is public. Someone smashes the glass of your car. Your employment is lost. Rent is beyond your means. You consider ending your life. Additionally, you stop attending therapy when the stress gets unbearable and your network of support dissipates. You lose interest. “They already think I’m a monster,” you begin to think. Why would someone want to improve? Rehabilitation is not that. Slow destruction is what that is. Furthermore, it doesn’t make children safer. After therapy, the majority of paedophiles never commit crimes again. The general population frequently assumes that paedophiles will inflict more harm. Data, however, presents a very different picture. Sexual recidivism rates for treated child sex offenders range from 5% to 14%, according to meta-analyses (e.g., Hanson & Morton-Bourgon, 2005). This is lower than the reoffending rates for nearly every other category of crime. Furthermore, nations where sex offenders receive treatment and monitoring but are not made public have consistently the lowest reoffending rates. Private police-run registries are used in the UK, Germany, and the Netherlands. Instead of public humiliation, they combine this with structured support, risk assessments, and treatment.
Another middle-ground method exists in the UK: “Sarah’s Law” allows any parent or carer to ask the police whether a family member has a history of abuse. The police may reveal the name in confidence if there is a genuine risk. Children are protected by this approach without becoming targets of the public. Malta is capable of more—without imitating America’s errors. There is no proof of increased safety; thus, making the record completely public would come with significant hazards.
Rather, Malta ought to:
Provide a quick and safe vetting process to make it easier for organisations that deal with children to access the registry.
Make risk assessment and therapy mandatory for offenders while they are incarcerated and after they are released—which might already be the case.
Preserve victim identities and use case-by-case judgement for any partial disclosure, taking into account each person’s danger rather than general guidelines.
In conclusion, empathy does not equate to endorsement. It’s a preventative measure.
“Why empathise with paedophiles at all?” others may ask.
The reason is straightforward: it’s the only method to prevent abuse in the future. People become more dangerous if we force them underground. We lessen harm if we assist them in comprehending their behaviour, controlling their cravings, and creating stable lifestyles. That’s smart, not soft. It’s not only about who we penalise when it comes to protecting children. It has to do with how we create mechanisms that prevent misuse before it occurs again. And to do that, one must have the courage to look at the whole picture—not just the portions that seem morally satisfying.
Matthew Bartolo is a sexologist and psychotherapist.