Sustaining the #MeToo Story
How can sensitivity be balanced with journalistic truth-seeking in sexual violence coverage? We hear from the voices on the frontlines of trauma reporting across Taiwan, Hong Kong and China.
This special edition of Lingua Sinica’s "Intersections" bulletin offers a full translation of a story from our companion publication Tian Jian (田間), examining how the #MeToo movement has reshaped journalistic practices in Taiwan, Hong Kong, and mainland China. Through in-depth conversations with prominent journalists from China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan, Su Hsiao-Fan explores the complex challenges facing reporters who cover sexual violence.
Despite confronting significant obstacles — reluctant sources, the risk of re-traumatization, and often limited tangible social change — these reporters remain steadfastly committed to amplifying survivors' voices. Subscribe to Tian Jian. It's free, and informative.
By Su Hsiao-Fan (蘇曉凡)
Sexual violence remains a profoundly challenging subject for media professionals to cover. Social stigma, the risk of secondary trauma, and the complex factors underlying sexual harassment and violence create multiple layers of ethical consideration for the journalists who tackle these issues. Moreover, when interviewees share their painful truths, reporters themselves often experience significant emotional distress.
The global #MeToo movement ignited in 2017 when New York Times reporters Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey exposed the sexual harassment and abuse scandal of Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein. Taiwan's own #MeToo movement began in June 2023 after a Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) staff member publicly shared her experience of workplace harassment, which soon catalyzed widespread attention and action. Media outlets in the country subsequently turned serious attention to these issues, and #MeToo-related reporting received recognition at numerous journalism awards over the past two years.
Despite the range of challenges that comes with such reporting, a dedicated group of Chinese-language journalists have focused consistently on sexual harassment and abuse. Among them is Taiwan’s Hung Chin-Hsuan (洪琴宣), who worked for six years at The Reporter, a leading independent outlet in the country — first as a reporter and later, from 2022, as digital content editor. It was in the latter role that she began focusing on gender issues.
In Taiwan, and across the broader Chinese-speaking world, just a handful of media outlets — The Reporter among them — treat gender as a dedicated beat. "For editorial teams, gender isn't typically conceived as a standalone beat,” explains Hung, “and these issues generally fall under social welfare or education coverage." Hung’s interest in gender perspectives developed during university after she took a course with Professor Fang Nien-Hsuan (方念萱, a well-known sociologist on the faculty at National Chengchi University. "That was my first realization that incorporating gender perspectives into reporting can reveal so many nuances and open up new analytical angles."
Over the past three years, Hung has produced numerous reports on sexual harassment and abuse, examining topics such as shortcomings in Taiwan's 2022 Stalking and Harassment Prevention Act, the #MeToo special feature "Taiwan's Belated ##MeToo Movement: How to Move Forward After Revealing the Scars?," a case of sexual assault at a Taipei kindergarten, and the police investigation into Taiwan's "Nth Room" scandal, in which criminals — as in a similar case in South Korea — blackmailed women into producing sexual content.
While Hung Chin-Hsuan believes effecting substantial change in how media prioritizes gender issues remains a challenge, she feels the process of reporting on these stories itself has brought home the impact of the #MeToo movement. "I think #MeToo's most significant achievement is that victims now realize their experiences can be spoken about, making them more willing to come forward,” she says.
One year after the #MeToo movement began, Liu Chih-Yu (劉芷妤), a writer whose work centers on women's experiences, collaborated with Initium Media, a Singapore-based Chinese-language digital media outlet, to report on sexual violence in Taiwan's entertainment industry. For Liu, this one-year anniversary coverage was not merely a follow-up investigation. It bore a message for every victim: "We remember you."
"This report isn't just about Da Ya (周宜霈) or Yuan Kuo (郭源元),” she explains, referring to the Taiwanese popular singer and Taiwanese actress who were both crucial to the building of the #MeToo movement in the country. “It’s about giving strength to survivors by showing them these incidents haven't been forgotten."
#MeToo Voices Gain Momentum
While Hong Kong's mainstream media have largely overlooked #MeToo stories, says journalist Koey Lee (李雨夢), independent outlets have followed Taiwan's #MeToo movement with in-depth reporting. She first became aware of the issue herself through Taiwan's coverage. "Taiwan’s reporting at the time was extensive, but in Hong Kong there was virtually nothing,” she recalls. “I also wanted to follow this wave, so I began exploring opportunities for local reporting." Lee has collaborated with the outlet WhyNot (歪脑) to interview sexual violence survivors from both regions, documenting their journeys of recovery.
“I think #MeToo's most significant achievement is that victims now realize their experiences can be spoken about.”
Lü Pin (呂頻), the founder of the independent Chinese platform Feminist Voices (女權之聲), which was shut down by Chinese authorities in 2018 after nine years of operation, notes that journalists focused on gender and women's rights began emerging in China around 2014-2015. "They recognized that gender reporting wasn't just about information dissemination but a form of movement participation," she says. These journalists persisted despite governmental censorship — posting content that was subsequently deleted, but which they posted again. They played crucial roles in helping China's #MeToo movement (known as "rice bunny" in Chinese online spaces, a homonym of “#MeToo,” to evade censorship) gain momentum.
Simply arranging interviews for stories on sexual harassment and violence presents formidable challenges. In her initial reporting, Liu Chih-Yu hoped to explore broader sexual violence issues in Taiwan's entertainment industry — rather than focusing, for example, as much of the local media did on the alleged sexual crimes of Chen Chien-chou (陳建州), the Taiwanese former television host and actor. However, her attempts met with round rejection from potential sources. "Even people I previously knew refused to participate,” she says. The same was true for interview proposals offering anonymity: "Taiwan's entertainment industry functions as a tightly interconnected network with interlocking power dynamics, and these sources feel they simply cannot risk coming forward."
Sexual harassment and violence cases present additional challenges for journalists due to their complex causality and differing perspectives among those involved. This can create trust issues even during initial interview arrangements. Liu recounts contacting a behind-the-scenes professional about the "Creative Private Room" incident, but their conversation revealed significant differences in viewpoint. The potential interviewee ultimately declined to participate in her reporting, stating they "couldn't envision how such reporting would result in meaningful change."
"Reporting on sexual violence victims presents exceptional challenges," says Lü Pin, drawing on her extensive interviewing experience. She explains that some interviewees participate primarily to secure their rights, and once that goal is achieved, they might subsequently make demands regarding media presentation or request an end to coverage. "The reporting objectives of media and victims aren't perfectly aligned — this fundamental tension persists throughout the process,” says Lü.
Interviewees Pull the Plug
Hung Chin-Hsuan makes a point of informing interviewees before each conversation that they have the right to terminate the interview at any moment. "Whenever I interview survivors, I communicate clearly during my interview outline that consent can be withdrawn at any time,” she says. “I want them to understand that sharing their story with me doesn't obligate them to have it published."
The interview process itself presents another layer of complexity. Given the sensitivity of these topics, journalists must continuously calibrate their approach during questioning. Liu admits that she often grapples with uncertainties about "which questions shouldn't be asked?" "But then I wonder,” she continues, “as a journalist, are there truly questions that should remain unasked?"
Koey Lee shares similar concerns about potentially harmful questioning. Despite her background as a feature reporter for Hong Kong’s Ming Pao Weekly covering various social issues, sexual violence topics evoke heightened caution. "I actually experience more fear in these situations — fear of asking inappropriate questions that might inflict secondary trauma or create discomfort." Li notes that throughout her process, from drafting questions to conducting interviews, she consciously avoids pressing for excessive details about victims' experiences.
"Every journalist approaches this differently,” says Lü Pin. “Some insist on excavating what they consider the complete truth, but I tend to preserve space for interviewees when they prefer not to disclose certain information." She acknowledges that she sometimes perceives interviewees withholding details during conversations but chooses not to pursue these gaps.
"These boundaries may be deeply important to them, even if maintaining them means my reporting appears less exclusive or revelatory."
When reporting on the kindergarten sexual assault case, Hung Chin-Hsuan took extraordinary precautions. Since the interviews took place in the same district as the incident, she specifically rented private spaces to protect the affected parents' privacy. Throughout the process, she continually verified with interviewees that she wasn't revealing too many identifying details. Hung never asked for real names and adopted a straightforward anonymization method, simply labeling sources as A, B, and C in order of appearance in her report.
For such sensitive stories, journalists typically allow interviewees to review content before publication — departing from standard journalistic practice prohibiting source review. Hung explains: "Sexual violence coverage represents a special case. Interviewees gain virtually nothing from participation while assuming considerable risk. Therefore, I believe they deserve control over how they're portrayed and represented in the final report."
Liu Chih-Yu notes that while Da Ya and Yuan Kuo did not request content modifications, they specifically asked that photographs present them neutrally, without deliberately highlighting anger or sadness.
In Initium Media's reporting, the term "victim" (被害者) was consciously avoided, with interviewees instead described as "survivors" (倖存者) and perpetrators referred to as "actors" (行為人). Liu explains that one interviewee suggested using the more neutral legal terminology "actor" when referring to Chen Jianzhou. "I personally don't prefer this usage, perhaps because it feels excessively neutral, but I prioritize respecting the wishes of those directly involved,” says Liu.
As a writer, Liu Chih-Yu emphasizes that "language shapes social culture." Regarding terminological choices, she reflects: "Both 'victim' and 'survivor' capture partial truths, but sexual violence represents such a complex violation that even terminological choices significantly influence social perception — the aspect I care about most deeply. I believe both terms remain 'usable' at this stage, though neither is ideal. Our society likely needs more time to evolve better vocabulary for these situations."
Koey Lee acknowledges that some interviewees object to being labeled "victims," and those preferences influence her choices regarding terminology.
When it comes to China, Lü Pin says she deliberately distances herself from narratives of state-led reform and progress: "In China, much reporting ultimately circles back to demanding governmental reforms,” says Lü. “Irrespective of the outlet, the perspective often centers on offering advice to authorities — an approach I strongly oppose."
For Lü, what matters most is the question of whose voices are being amplified, and from whose perspective reporting unfolds. "The most crucial thing, rather than quickly pivoting to what the government should do, is elevating the voices of interviewees, even when those voices are alternative, angry, or socially unacceptable,” she adds. “The distinction lies in recognizing whose power we choose to acknowledge and amplify."
A Journey of Ups and Downs
Hung Chin-Hsuan left The Reporter at the end of February this year. For the six months before her departure, she attended regular therapy sessions. She acknowledges the emotional burden of covering these topics, which takes a significant psychological toll. "After each interview, part of me admires the courage of those who speak out, while another part wonders why these incidents continue unabated," she says. The stalking victims featured in her earlier reporting on the Stalking and Harassment Prevention Act continue to experience harassment today.
"Reporting doesn't necessarily produce positive outcomes. The world doesn't automatically improve,” says Hung. This is a frustration that Koey Lee shares: "These stories often generate minimal response — like dropping a bottle into a lake and watching it disappear." Sometimes she comes across malicious comments [posted in response to a story], and she worries about misinterpretations potentially creating additional negative consequences for interviewees. Even after publication, these concerns linger. Nevertheless, these very challenges motivate Li to keep her focus on sexual crimes in Hong Kong, and to continue producing follow-up reports.
Liu Chih-Yu is not especially concerned about comments generally made in forums. But there is one recurring response that can provoke her to anger: "This isn't your fault." "Of course it isn't these people's fault,” she says, “but when will we finally reach a point where this statement no longer needs repeating?"
The journey remains long, she observes. The persistent rejection from potential interviewees suggests progress — both journalistically and societally— is slow. Sources remain reluctant to participate. And still, this challenging process reinforces her conviction that these issues demand relentless, repeated attention.
“The distinction lies in recognizing whose power we choose to acknowledge and amplify."
In recent years, Taiwan has witnessed ongoing incidents of sexual violence and crime with accompanying media coverage. "Gender-related issues never cease,” says Liu, “and they require our sustained attention."
She adds: "Through continued discussion, each conversation yields new insights. When we addressed these issues in 2023, our perspectives may have been imperfect, but we've since adjusted our approach. It's all part of an accumulation process. Let's continue building on this foundation."
 | A guest post by
|