Some notes on the language we use
At the Digital Dignity Legal Clinic, we think carefully about the words we use. Language shapes how we understand harm, how we talk about justice, and how we support the people who come to us for help. The terms surrounding non-consensual intimate image abuse (NCII) are still evolving, and many of them carry assumptions or misconceptions that can deepen stigma. Below, we explain some of the decisions we’ve made about terminology and why they matter.
Photo of a dictionary. Photo by Joshua Hoehne on Unsplash.
Despite our general view on language and the choice of words we use, we are first and foremost a victim-survivor–centric, trauma-informed, 2SLGBTQ+ inclusive, and anti-oppressive clinic. That means we defer to the language that feels safest, most accurate, and most empowering for the person sitting across from us. Our role is to support you in a way that recognizes your agency and affirms your inherent dignity. So, if you prefer “victim,” “survivor,” both, or neither, we and our affiliated lawyers will follow your lead.
Why we use “victim-survivor”
We use the term victim-survivor because we believe it reflects the whole of a person’s experience: both the harm they were subjected to and the strength they continue to show in the aftermath.
“Victim” acknowledges that something wrong was done. Sometimes that wrong is a criminal offence. Other times it’s a civil violation. In either case, the word “victim” recognizes that a person’s rights were breached and that the law offers protections and remedies in response. Many legal systems, especially the criminal justice system, still use this term, and using it can help people access the supports and safeguards available to them. For example, there is specific funding available for victims of crime, depending on the province or territory in which someone lives.
“Survivor” honours a person’s agency, dignity, and resilience. Many people who experience NCII abuse prefer this term because it centres their own strength and ongoing healing. It also reflects what research consistently shows: NCII is traumatic, and its effects can echo long after the initial incident. In that sense, surviving is not a single moment but a continuing process, one that a person lives every day as they move forward despite what was done to them.
Together, victim-survivor allows individuals to claim whichever part of the term feels truest for them at any given moment. It acknowledges the complexity of the experience rather than forcing people into a single, fixed category.
Why we avoid the term “revenge porn”
Although the phrase still appears in headlines and everyday conversation, “revenge porn” is a term we choose not to use. It carries assumptions that are inaccurate, stigmatizing, and deeply unfair to the people who experience this harm. Language shapes how we understand an experience, and in this case, the common phrase obscures the reality of what actually happened.
To start, “revenge porn” implies that the person pictured did something to deserve “revenge,” as though the abuse is somehow a response to their actions. This framing shifts blame onto the person who was harmed, rather than the person who violated their trust, privacy, autonomy, and dignity. It reinforces a false narrative that someone’s private images were shared because of their own actions. For many of the people we support, this implication can deepen shame and silence, making it even harder to seek help.
The term also suggests that the motivation behind NCII abuse is always revenge. In reality, NCII abuse happens for a wide range of reasons: to exert control, to manipulate or coerce, to humiliate, to make money, to exploit vulnerability, or sometimes simply through reckless disregard for someone else’s dignity. Reducing all these possibilities to “revenge” oversimplifies the dynamics and fails to capture the real patterns we see every day.
And then there’s the word “porn.” Pornography is consensual and commercial by definition. NCII abuse is neither. Using the language of pornography reinforces the mistaken idea that the person depicted agreed to the distribution, or that what happened to them is somehow part of the broader world of sexual content. It collapses the distinction between consent and violation, and it minimizes the seriousness of the harm that has occurred.
For all of these reasons, we use the clearer, more accurate, and more trauma-informed term “non-consensual intimate image abuse” shortened simply to “NCII abuse.” We include the word “abuse” because what happens in these situations is not a lapse in judgment or an unfortunate mistake. Instead, it is inherently an abusive act that causes real harm. “Abuse” names the violation for what it is: a breach of trust, dignity, privacy, and safety. It also affirms that the person targeted is not to blame, and that the responsibility lies entirely with the person who misused their power, access, or control. The word “abuse” is also broad enough to capture threats to share or distribute NCII, and reflects that the impacts can be far-reaching, affecting mental health, relationships, employment, and safety.
