Sexual Violence in Digital Spaces and the Empathy Crisis
The alleged case of verbal and sexual harassment involving 16 students from the Faculty of Law at Universitas Indonesia on 15 April 2026 has shaken the public conscience of the campus community. The university has temporarily suspended the students as an administrative measure during the investigation, while emphasising victim protection and the presumption of innocence (Republika, 16/4/2026).
This incident reminds us that sexual violence does not always begin with physical contact; it can emerge from group chats, sentences wrapped in humour, or seemingly trivial jokes that demean others’ dignity.
The world has witnessed a similar pattern at the University of Warwick in England. A campus investigation into a student chat group containing discussions on rape and sexual violence resulted in severe sanctions. Several students were expelled, and others were banned from campus for extended periods. Both cases offer the same lesson: digital spaces can allow violence to grow quietly before erupting into a moral crisis for educational institutions.
The problem is far from minor. UNFPA (United Nations Population Fund) defines technology-facilitated gender-based violence as violence that is committed, aided, aggravated, or amplified through information technology and digital media based on gender. Forms include online sexual harassment, threats, non-consensual sharing of intimate images, doxing, and digital stalking.
In Indonesia, Komnas Perempuan reports that complaints of online gender-based violence in CATAHU 2025 increased by 40.8 per cent from the previous year. Komdigi also states that cases of violence against women in digital spaces continue to rise, with an average of around 2,000 reports per year, predominantly online sexual violence. This means digital wounds are not illusions; they are real, lasting, and can destroy victims’ sense of safety in learning, working, or socialising.
From a social psychology perspective, there are two key explanations. First, the online disinhibition effect: people tend to be more uninhibited, aggressive, or extreme in online spaces due to anonymity, invisibility, delayed responses, and minimal sense of being watched. Second, online violence is driven by the same roots as offline violence: power imbalances, harmful gender norms, and habits of belittling those perceived as weaker.
When these factors meet permissive group cultures, moral restraints quickly collapse. Someone who might not dare to speak crudely in the real world feels safe in digital spaces because their identity seems to dissolve into the crowd. From here, sexual jokes can turn into insults and eventually shift into violence.
Therefore, the signs must be recognised early. Sexual violence in digital spaces rarely erupts suddenly. It usually starts with someone’s body becoming the subject of conversation, a victim’s name linked to sexual fantasies, screenshots shared without permission, lewd comments disguised as jokes, or group pressure to join in the laughter.
Phrases like “don’t take it personally,” “just joking,” or “don’t leak the group chat” often serve as barriers protecting the perpetrator, not the victim. In such situations, victims easily feel ashamed, fearful, isolated, or even self-blaming. What is wounded is not just their reputation, but also their psychological sense of safety.
So what must be done? First, universities must not wait for cases to go viral. Prevention must become a culture. Indonesia already has a foundation through Ministry of Education, Culture, Research, and Technology Regulation No. 30 of 2021 on the Prevention and Handling of Sexual Violence in Higher Education Environments.
Second, campus policies must firmly address online violence, not just physical spaces. Guidelines from Universities UK emphasise the importance of institutional responses to online harassment alongside promoting digital wellbeing. This means education on digital ethics, reporting procedures, victim protection, and disciplinary follow-up must not stop at slogans; they must be embedded in the system.
Third, we need a culture of active bystanders. Much violence persists not because perpetrators are too strong, but because witnesses are too silent. Intervention does not always mean major confrontation. In many bystander intervention guides, simple steps like diverting the situation, supporting the victim, helping to document, accompanying reporting, or simply stating that the behaviour is not funny, are already very meaningful.
When a victim speaks out, the first response is also crucial: listen, show empathy, do not blame, and let the victim decide the next steps. Approaches like this make handling truly centred on recovery, not just on institutional image.
Ultimately, this issue is not just about technology, but about manners. In Islamic teachings, belittling, mocking, and shaming others is no light matter. Surah Al-Hujurat verse 11 reminds us not to let any group belittle another, and not to mock each other with derogatory nicknames.
In the digital age, this advice feels increasingly relevant, as our speech now moves to our fingertips. Thus, digital education should not stop at gadget proficiency, but also instil shame, empathy, and moral responsibility. For the measure of a university’s progress is not just the intelligence of its students, but the ability of its community to uphold each other’s honour, even when they feel unseen by anyone.