Police Mistreatment of Women with C-PTSD
Multiple studies and official reports have documented how police in Australia have
mishandled cases involving women survivors of trauma. The Victorian Royal Commission
into Family Violence (2016), for example, noted that Victoria Police were misidentifying
women as primary aggressors in some domestic violence incidents . This means some
genuine victims (often women who fought back in self-defense) were wrongly treated as
perpetrators, undermining their safety. Research by Monash University found factors like a
woman’s use of self-defense, trauma-related behaviors (e.g. aggression from fear), mental
illness, or cultural background can bias officers’ perceptions. Such characteristics may not
fit what some police expect a “real” victim to behave like, leading them to assume the woman
must be the offender . These systemic mistakes can deny victims access to protection and
support, and allow abusers to manipulate the system (sometimes called “systems abuse”) .
Independent reviews also reveal widespread police failures in responding to domestic and
sexual violence. Australia’s Law Reform Commission (ALRC) in 2025 reported that
“overwhelmingly, people who have experienced sexual violence do not engage with the
justice system” due to fear and lack of trust . According to the ALRC’s final report, fewer than
1 in 10 incidents of sexual violence are reported to police, and in some jurisdictions 75–85%
of reports to police never lead to any charges . The report noted common reasons for not
reporting included a belief police would not help and fear of being re-traumatised by having
to recount their abuse . Such findings echo broader research that high rates of sexual
assault complaints are dismissed as “unfounded,” suggesting dismissing women’s reports
has become a disturbingly common practice in policing . Survivors who do come forward
often describe insensitive or hostile treatment – one study found women who reported
sexual assaults to police were met with “insensitivity, blaming questions, lack of
investigation, and lack of follow-up”, leaving them feeling disbelieved by the very institutions
meant to protect them .
Cases and Legal Actions Exposing Police Failures
Specific cases and legal actions have highlighted these police failures in stark terms. In
Victoria, a landmark lawsuit by a domestic violence victim, Tara Smith, is testing whether
3police can be held negligent for not protecting abuse survivors. In that case, the Supreme
Court of Victoria ruled that Smith and her children could sue police for allegedly failing to
enforce multiple protection orders against her violent ex-partner . Smith endured years of
stalking and assaults despite having four intervention orders in place – she claims officers
knew about the repeated breaches but did little to intervene, resulting in continued harm to
her family . The court accepted it was at least arguable that police owe a duty of care to
specific domestic violence victims to protect them from preventable harm . Advocacy groups
note this is a crucial precedent, since police ignoring mandatory family violence protocols
can have tragic outcomes . Indeed, every year over 100,000 Australians obtain domestic
violence orders, and if breaches aren’t taken seriously by police, victims remain in danger .
Coronial inquests have also exposed deadly consequences of police missteps. In Queensland,
the inquest into the 2020 murder of Hannah Clarke and her children by her estranged
husband revealed gaps in police training about coercive control, prompting
recommendations for better officer education . And in the Northern Territory, a 2024
coroner’s inquest examined the deaths of four Aboriginal women at the hands of partners –
it identified systemic failings in the police response and a “need for urgent widespread
reform” in how authorities handle domestic violence . In some of those cases, officers had
multiple prior contacts with the victims and perpetrators but failed to adequately assess the
risk or enforce protections. Tragically, lackluster police action can end with lives lost; for
example, the death of Ms Dhu, a 22-year-old Yamatji woman, in Western Australia became
emblematic of catastrophic neglect. Ms Dhu died in police custody in 2014 from untreated
injuries after officers dismissed her pleas for medical help – her case was described as “the
latest in a long history of deaths and mistreatment of Aboriginal people in police custody in
Australia” . These legal battles and inquests serve as stark testimony to how police
misconduct or inaction have harmed traumatised women, galvanizing calls for
accountability.
Impact on Survivors of Domestic Violence
For women with histories of domestic abuse, encounters with police can be a double-edged
sword – a potential lifeline that sometimes turns into another source of trauma. Studies
have found that many victim-survivors avoid calling police for help unless absolutely
necessary, due to past negative experiences or fear of not being believed . When police do
intervene, the response is inconsistent. There are dedicated officers and units (like
specialized domestic violence teams) that provide compassionate, trauma-informed support,
4but many survivors report treatment that falls short of this ideal. Common complaints
include officers trivializing the abuse or questioning the victim’s credibility. The Victorian
royal commission noted instances of police skepticism or impatience, especially if a woman
had returned to her abuser or showed anger at the scene . Such reactions fail to recognize
the complex trauma and fear controlling a victim’s behavior. In the worst cases, women
reporting violent partners have been arrested or misidentified as the aggressor themselves
– a miscarriage of justice that can discourage them from ever seeking help again . Advocacy
organizations and legal services regularly encounter women who were issued counter-
intervention orders or charges after trying to defend themselves in a violent incident . This
not only denies the true victim protection, but can also leave her with criminal records or
risk of losing child custody . The overall effect is deeply damaging: women with a history of
domestic trauma may come away from police interactions feeling humiliated, unsafe, and
betrayed by a system that was supposed to protect them. It underscores why trauma-
informed policing – where officers understand dynamics like fear, coercive control, and
victim responses – is so critical in family violence situations.
Impact on Survivors of Sexual Assault
Women who have survived sexual assault or rape face similar, if not greater, challenges
when dealing with law enforcement. The vast majority never go to the police at all – surveys
show roughly 90% of women do not report their most recent sexual assault to authorities .
Their reasons are telling: many fear they won’t be believed, or worry about the invasive,
traumatic process of an investigation and trial . Unfortunately, those who do report often
find their fears validated by poor treatment. Numerous inquiries have found that police
investigations of sexual violence have high “attrition” rates – meaning cases drop out of the
justice system at alarming levels. In New South Wales, for example, police data revealed no
legal action was taken in 85% of reported sexual assault incidents, largely due to cases being
closed during the investigation stage . This indicates that most survivors see their cases end
with no charges, let alone convictions. Behind these statistics are personal stories of
frustration: survivors describe officers who were apathetic or skeptical, and felt more like
they were on trial than their assailants. A qualitative study of women whose rape reports
were dismissed as “unfounded” found that police often responded with blame and disbelief,
asking accusatory questions or focusing on the victim’s behavior (such as drinking) rather
than the accused’s actions . Such responses compound the original trauma – one survivor
said “I was hopeful police would help… Instead, I was met with insensitivity and no follow-
up”, illustrating how being dismissed by authorities inflicts a profound secondary wound .
5The systemic nature of these failures has prompted reforms: police services are being
pushed to adopt victim-centric, trauma-informed training, and initiatives like specialist
sexual assault units aim to improve how survivors are treated. Still, advocacy groups and
government reviews agree there is much work to be done to rebuild survivors’ trust and
ensure that reporting a sexual crime does not become another source of trauma .
Women with Mental Health Trauma and Police Encounters
Women with mental health challenges – including those dealing with PTSD, anxiety, or other
trauma-related conditions – often have fraught interactions with police as well. When a
woman is in mental distress or a psychiatric crisis, police are frequently the first responders
in Australia. Unfortunately, standard police tactics can escalate rather than calm these
situations. A recent co-designed study with lived-experience participants found that women
in mental health crises were “more often than not” harmed by the police response rather
than helped . Participants in the study recounted being met with intimidation and force:
many had been handcuffed and put in the paddy wagon (“divvy van”), capsicum-sprayed at
close range, hit with batons, or even tasered during what was essentially a health
emergency . One woman described, “I was having an anxiety attack and they pepper sprayed
me… I had bruises all over my hands from how roughly they cuffed me” . Another recalled
cowering and pleading “please don’t kill me,” terrified that officers would mistreat her as
they had others in her community . Such heavy-handed responses leave lasting scars.
Women report feelings of shame, humiliation and fear for their life during these encounters,
and afterward many develop an intense distrust of law enforcement and even of medical
services (since police often transport them to hospitals) . Mental health advocates point out
that these outcomes reflect a lack of training and resources – police officers are not mental
health professionals, yet they’re making snap judgments about someone’s condition and can
detain them under various state Mental Health Acts . Without de-escalation training and
alternatives to police-only response (like specialized crisis teams), vulnerable women in
crisis can end up further traumatised by the very people meant to ensure their safety.
Recent inquiries (such as in New South Wales) have recommended closer partnerships
between police and mental health services, to prevent what one report called the “lethal
threat” posed when armed officers serve as first responders to mental health emergencies .
The goal is to shift from a force-oriented approach to a care-oriented approach, so that
women in trauma get compassion and medical aid instead of handcuffs and pepper spray.
6Indigenous Women’s Experiences with Law Enforcement
Indigenous Australian women face some of the most acute and tragic patterns of police
mistreatment, compounded by racism and the legacy of colonialism. Studies indicate
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women experience violence at vastly higher rates
than non-Indigenous women, yet are often less likely to seek help from police due to
historical mistrust and fear of discrimination. Research led by UNSW Law on domestic
violence fatalities found that most First Nations women killed by a partner had prior police
contact related to domestic violence, but those interactions were “frequently harmful”
rather than protective . In many cases, officers failed to respond vigorously to the woman’s
abuse reports or enforce orders, effectively leaving her vulnerable. Even worse, some
policing actions actively hurt these women: the study noted that police sometimes
criminalised the victim instead of the perpetrator, enhancing surveillance of her and
eroding her autonomy . Alarmingly, almost one-third of the Indigenous women who were
later killed had been previously recorded by police as domestic violence offenders
themselves . This often stemmed from incidents where women fought back or were falsely
portrayed as aggressors. The UNSW research found officers were prone to label Indigenous
women “uncooperative” or “unwilling to engage,” and used that as a justification for not
providing them assistance or protection . Such characterizations ignore the very real
reasons an Indigenous survivor might hesitate – fear of her abuser, or fear of the police
given past negative encounters – and instead place blame on her. This cycle has led to
devastating outcomes.
Indigenous advocates and inquiries have spotlighted how systemic bias in policing puts
Aboriginal women in a deadly bind. The Northern Territory coroner, in examining multiple
Indigenous women’s violent deaths, concluded in 2024 that the official response to their
pleas was gravely inadequate, highlighting systemic failings by police alongside Australia’s
highest rates of domestic violence in the NT . Family members testified that these women
often didn’t receive the same urgency or empathy that other victims might. In some
instances, cries for help were ignored until it was too late. Beyond domestic violence,
Indigenous women are over-represented in the criminal justice system as offenders – often
for minor charges – which further erodes trust. When someone like Ms Dhu dies in custody
due to neglect, it reinforces a terrifying message in Aboriginal communities that
interacting with police can be life-threatening for women. As one analysis put it, Ms Dhu’s
case was not an isolated incident but part of a “long history of … mistreatment of Aboriginal
people in police custody in Australia” . Indigenous women with trauma thus carry a double
7burden: surviving violence or abuse, and then facing a law enforcement system that may
treat them with suspicion or indifference. Culturally safe and trauma-informed policing,
along with Indigenous-led support services, have been widely called for to address this crisis.
Programs that build relationships between police and Indigenous women (through
community liaison officers, for example) and efforts to eliminate racist practices are crucial
steps identified by various inquiries. The aim must be to ensure that Indigenous women can
seek help without fear – that reporting violence leads to protection and justice, not further
harm or criminalisation.
Testimonies and Calls for Reform
The systemic mistreatment of trauma-affected women by police has given rise to a chorus of
testimonies and advocacy calling for reform. Women’s legal services, domestic violence
advocates, Indigenous community leaders, and mental health organizations have all raised
the alarm, often in official forums. Government inquiries have heard harrowing stories:
parliamentary committees and royal commissions have been told of survivors being
laughed at by officers, or discouraged from pursuing charges. Advocacy groups like Women’s
Legal Services NSW and Djirra (an Aboriginal family violence service) have submitted
evidence about these patterns, reinforcing that what might seem like isolated bad incidents
are actually symptoms of broader cultural problems in policing. The good news is that these
voices are prompting changes. In response to mounting evidence, police forces in several
states have begun implementing trauma-informed training focusing on domestic and
sexual violence. For instance, Queensland Police now require specialist domestic violence
training that emphasizes victim-centric, culturally aware approaches . Independent
oversight bodies are also being strengthened – agencies like Professional Standards or anti-
corruption commissions have started reviewing police handling of sexual assault
complaints and internal misconduct toward female victims. Moreover, legal precedents like
the Tara Smith case send a powerful message that police departments could be held legally
accountable if they egregiously fail to protect those most at risk .
Importantly, survivor testimonies are shaping these reforms. Women with lived experience
of police mistreatment are speaking out in media and inquiries, turning their painful
stories into a catalyst for change. Their accounts – whether of being disbelieved after a rape,
or being a domestic violence victim treated as an offender, or a mental health call-out met
with brute force – underscore the urgent need for systemic change. The momentum is
growing: the ALRC’s 2025 report recommended sweeping changes to make the justice
8system “safe, informed, [and] supported” for sexual violence survivors , and national
standards for police handling of family violence are being developed. While entrenched
cultures take time to shift, these combined efforts by government, academia, and
community advocates are aimed at ensuring that women who have endured trauma are met
with professionalism, empathy, and justice – not further harm – when they turn to the police
for help.
Sources:
• Royal Commission into Family Violence (Vic) – findings on police misidentification of
victims
• Monash University research on system abuse and misidentified “perpetrators”
• Australian Law Reform Commission, “Safe, Informed, Supported: Reforming Justice
Responses to Sexual Violence” (2025) – statistics on under-reporting and case attrition
• NSW Bureau of Crime Statistics and Research – Attrition of sexual assaults study (2024)
• Murphy-Oikonen et al. (2022) – “Unfounded Sexual Assault: Women’s Experiences of Not
Being Believed by the Police”
• Police Accountability Project – Smith v. State of Victoria negligence case summary
• UNSW study by Buxton-Namisnyk (2021) on policing of First Nations women
• Coroners Court of NT – Inquest into deaths of Yunupiŋu, Ragurrk, Rubuntja, Haywood
(2024)
• VMIAC/La Trobe University – “Police Apprehension as a Response to Mental Distress”
report (2022)
• Media/Public accounts of police failures: e.g. Ms Dhu death in custody (2014) , BOCSAR &
Guardian reports on sexual assault prosecutions , etc.