4sight Self Protection

Yeah, I ain’t messin’ with that!

😁

There isn’t a day where I’m not learning something new or taking a deeper dive into the many tangents of self protection. Sometimes it’s pretty dark. Sometimes I want to throw the book across the room. Sometimes I yell back at the podcast... But I am still endlessly fascinated by all the things that shape our existence and our experiences of danger, threats, and safety.
And from there, seeing how I can help others build their self protection skillset.

Here are a few of the books I’ve read in the last month - all of which I would happily recommend for those interested in issues around gender, media, consent, violence, and how we experience being human.

And a reminder to check out your local library for access to a heap of free resources. 😎

I tend to scan broadly, not only for threats but also things of interest.

The mentality for me is one of awareness and curiosity, underpinned by a readiness to cause harm if it’s required.

Where do you tend to focus your attention? Is there anything you would change about your approach, or the mentality behind your approach?

A recent study has confirmed what every woman instinctively knows: men and women experience the simple act of walking through the world in fundamentally different ways -- with women performing an invisible, automatic threat assessment that begins the moment they step outside alone.

Researchers at Brigham Young University showed nearly 600 college students photographs of campus walking paths at four Utah universities and asked them to click on the areas that stood out most as they imagined walking through those spaces alone. They turned the responses into heat maps -- and the differences were stark.

Men looked at the path ahead. The destination. A streetlight, a garbage can, the walkway in front of them. Women scanned the periphery -- the bushes, the dark corners, the spaces alongside the path where someone could be hiding. As lead researcher Robert Chaney put it, they "expected to see some differences, but we didn't expect to see them so contrasting. It's really visually striking."

The gap widened dramatically at night and in what the researchers call "high-entrapment" settings -- narrow bridges, walled paths, spaces where escape would be difficult. In those conditions, the heat maps were so structurally different that the two groups were essentially looking at entirely different environments.

And there is good reason for that vigilance. Women aged 18-24 are four times more likely to experience s*xual violence than women of other age groups. Among college women, there are two s*xual assaults for every one robbery -- a complete inversion of the ratio in the general population. That scanning isn't paranoia. It's pattern recognition built on a lifetime of lived experience.

But the study reveals something beyond individual behavior -- it reveals who our shared spaces are built for. Those walkways, bridges, and campus paths were designed by people who see space the way the men in this study do: eyes forward, focused on the destination. A narrow walled bridge with a single light at the end works fine for the person who looks straight ahead. It doesn't work for the person whose eyes go immediately to the dark edges on either side.

It's not that anyone set out to make public spaces feel unsafe for women. It's that many of the people making design decisions rarely had to scan for danger themselves -- so they never thought to design for those who do. The threat isn't just in the shadows. It's in the fact that no one considered the shadows at all.

Co-author Alyssa Baer said her hope is that having concrete data will start conversations that lead to meaningful action in designing safer spaces. Chaney went further: "Why can't we live in a world where women don't have to think about these things?"

--> We want to hear your thoughts. Do these findings match your own experience? What do you do when you're walking alone at night -- and have you ever tried to explain it to someone who didn't understand? What do you notice that the men in your life don't?

------

For a groundbreaking look at how a world built on male-default data -- from urban planning to medicine to car safety -- systematically disadvantages women, we highly recommend "Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men" for ages 14 and up at https://bookshop.org/a/8011/9781419735219 (Bookshop) and https://amzn.to/2Qzqg8H (Amazon)

Urban design isn't the only area where s*xist bias affects research; for two excellent books for adult readers about how medical systems often fail women, we recommend the new "Unwell Women: Misdiagnosis and Myth in a Man-Made World" (https://www.amightygirl.com/unwell-women) and "Ask Me About My Uterus: A Quest to Make Doctor's Believe in Women's Pain" (https://www.amightygirl.com/ask-me-about-my-uterus)

To read the full study, "Gender-Based Heat Map Images of Campus Walking Settings: A Reflection of Lived Experience," published in the journal Violence and Gender, visit https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC10951437/

To read BYU's coverage of the study, including additional heat map images, visit https://news.byu.edu/intellect/study-visually-captures-hard-truth-walking-home-at-night-is-not-the-same-for-women

Never assume who might be targeting you… you could overlook who is actually targeting you.

🦝😄

https://www.facebook.com/share/18FG9dzNrH/?mibextid=wwXIfr

Police in Central Park thought they were hunting down a skilled pickpocket after multiple visitors reported their phones mysteriously disappearing without anyone noticing a thing.

But while officers were questioning people in the park, a raccoon suddenly ran up, grabbed a phone, and exposed itself as the real thief. After chasing it through the trees, police found a hidden stash of stolen phones tucked away in a raccoon’s hiding spot.

They later announced that anyone missing a phone in Central Park could check with the station to claim it.

Good info 🙂

The world is full of genuinely kind, generous and incredible people. But it’s also true that not everyone experiences empathy and emotions in the same way — and yes, psychopaths and sociopaths do exist.

Psychopathy (and related antisocial personality traits) is often misunderstood. Research suggests around 1% of the general population may have psychopathic traits — that’s roughly 1 in every 100 people. In workplace settings, some studies estimate the number may be higher, particularly in leadership roles, with figures around 3–4% or more in corporate environments.

These individuals aren’t usually the “movie villains” people imagine. In fact, many can appear confident, charming, and highly capable — which is part of why they can go unnoticed.

Some common traits can include:
• Lack of empathy or remorse
• Superficial charm and strong first impressions
• Manipulative or deceitful behaviour
• Inflated sense of self-importance
• Little regard for rules, ethics, or the impact on others

In the workplace, this can sometimes show up as:
• Playing people against each other
• Taking credit for others’ work
• Blaming others when things go wrong
• Bullying disguised as “strong leadership”
• Creating toxic environments or high staff turnover

It’s important to say — not every difficult person is a psychopath. But patterns matter.

If you feel like you might be dealing with someone like this at work, some practical things to look out for:
• Consistent manipulation or dishonesty
• Lack of accountability
• Patterns of conflict around them (not just one-off issues)
• People feeling anxious, undermined, or unsafe

What helps:
• Keep records of interactions
• Set clear boundaries
• Avoid oversharing personal information
• Speak to HR or trusted leadership if needed
• Trust your instincts — if something feels “off,” it often is

At the end of the day, most people are good. But awareness matters — not fear, just clarity. Protect your wellbeing, support each other, and don’t ignore red flags.

💬 Have you ever experienced a toxic workplace personality?

This can be a hard one to identify and challenge if you’re unaware of the tactic - and sometimes even when you are aware. There are often layers to our psychology and socialisation that predatory types can take advantage of.

One of these is the assumption of the ‘good person’. I’m a good person with good intentions, therefore others are like me - good people with good intentions. This projection onto others can lead us to downplay the ‘off’ feeling we get from a predator. We might tell ourselves, ‘it’s probably nothing; I’m being paranoid.‘ Or we excuse them: ‘they might not be good with social cues’ or ‘maybe their culture is different,’ for example.

At the heart of this is recognising your own gut instinct, the ‘warning bell’ or the ‘red flag,’ and making choices that honour your safety above being polite and agreeable.

Thank you Streetwise Defence for a great post!

Predators often test one thing first.

Will you stay polite when something feels wrong?

Many people - especially women - have been socialised to prioritise being polite, agreeable and non-confrontational.

Unfortunately, offenders sometimes rely on that.

Research into predatory behaviour shows that many offenders use “boundary testing” before escalating.

This might look like:

• Standing a little too close
• Asking personal questions
• Ignoring subtle signs that you’re uncomfortable
• Continuing a conversation after you’ve tried to disengage

They are often watching for one thing.

Will you challenge the behaviour - or will you stay polite?

Studies of convicted offenders have found that many deliberately target people they believe are less likely to resist or challenge them.

This doesn’t mean responsibility ever lies with the victim.

But understanding these dynamics can help people recognise early warning signs sooner.

Some of the most important personal safety skills are knowing it’s okay to:

• Trust your instincts
• Set a boundary
• Move away from a situation
• Be direct if something feels wrong

Being polite is valuable.

But your safety is more important than someone else’s comfort.

If this message resonates, it’s worth sharing - many people have never been taught this.

A fascinating dive into history and how one woman, Ann Burgess, revolutionised the approach to understanding perpetrators of horrific crimes.

https://www.facebook.com/share/1cVu8aVTwk/?mibextid=wwXIfr

1978. FBI Academy, Quantico, Virginia.
Two FBI agents sat across from Ann Burgess and pressed play on a cassette tape.
The voice that filled the room belonged to a serial killer.
For months, Robert Ressler and John Douglas had been driving to prisons across America, sitting across from the most violent men in the country, and recording their confessions.
They had boxes of tapes. Hours and hours of interviews.
And they had no idea what to do with them.
The agents thought they were collecting groundbreaking research.
Ann Burgess listened to one interview and said: "This isn't research. This is just... conversation."
The two FBI agents stared at her.
She continued: "You're asking them to tell you stories about themselves. But you're not capturing data. You're not following any methodology. You can't compare one interview to another because you're asking different questions every time."
Silence.
"You're sitting on something extraordinary here," Burgess said. "But the way you're doing this? It's useless."

Ann Burgess had not planned to become the person who taught the FBI how to think.
She was 42 years old. A professor of psychiatric nursing at Boston College. A mother. A researcher who studied trauma.
The FBI called her because of a magazine article.
Not a dramatic exposé. Just a clinical piece she'd published in the American Journal of Nursing in 1973 about treating r**e victims in emergency rooms.
An agent named Roy Hazelwood read it and thought: We need this woman.
At the time, the FBI had just started sending agents to training on s*xual assault. The women's movement had forced the issue. The director of the FBI, William Webster, decided his agents better learn something about r**e victimology.
So they invited Burgess to Quantico to give a lecture.
She showed up expecting to teach a class and leave.
Instead, she walked into a revolution that didn't know it was happening yet.

The Behavioral Science Unit at the FBI was a rogue operation.
A handful of agents who believed that if you studied violent criminals systematically enough, you could predict behavior. You could profile offenders you'd never met based solely on crime scene evidence.
In the 1970s, this was considered pseudoscience by most of law enforcement.
But Ressler and Douglas were obsessed.
They'd started a side project: interviewing serial killers in prison. They wanted to understand why these men killed. What drove them. What patterns existed.
They were convinced the answers were in those interviews.
They just couldn't figure out how to extract them.

When Burgess listened to those first tapes, she heard something the agents didn't.
The killers were performing.
They were telling stories designed to shock, to impress, to control the narrative. They were feeding the agents exactly what they thought the agents wanted to hear.
And the agents—brilliant, intuitive investigators—were so focused on the killers that they'd forgotten the most important part of every crime.
The victim.

"Tell me about the women they killed," Burgess said.
The agents looked confused.
"Who were they? How old? Where did the offenders find them? What were they doing when they were approached? What did the killer say to them? How did he convince them to go with him?"
"We asked about that—" one agent started.
"No," Burgess interrupted. "You asked the killers to describe their victims. That's not the same thing. The killer's description of the victim tells you about the killer's fantasy. I'm asking: who were these women as actual human beings?"
She paused.
"Because if you study the victims—really study them—you'll see the pattern. You'll see what kind of woman this particular offender targets. You'll see how he selects. How he approaches. How he gains control. And that will tell you more about him than anything he says in this room."

This was the insight that changed everything.
Burgess brought her work on r**e trauma into the FBI's serial killer research.
For six years, she'd been interviewing r**e survivors. She'd documented how trauma actually worked—the acute phase, the reorganization phase, the coping mechanisms, the nightmares, the fear responses.
She'd proven that r**e wasn't about s*x. It was about power.
And she'd shown that if you studied the victim's experience carefully enough, you could understand exactly what the ra**st was trying to accomplish.
Now she applied that same framework to murder.

Burgess redesigned the entire interview protocol.
She created structured questionnaires. She identified specific data points to collect from every interview. She taught the agents how to ask follow-up questions that would yield comparable data across different subjects.
She insisted they study victimology.
Who did this offender kill? Young women? Older women? Prostitutes? College students? Children?
Where did he find them? How did he approach them? What did he say?
Because the victim selection wasn't random. It revealed the offender's psychology, his access, his comfort zone, his fantasies.
She introduced the concept of "signature" versus "MO."
MO—modus operandi—is what the killer does to successfully commit the crime. It evolves. It gets more efficient over time.
Signature is what the killer does to fulfill his psychological needs. It's the violence beyond what's necessary to kill. It's personal. It's consistent.
Understanding the difference meant understanding the killer's mind.

Burgess explained escalation.
Serial killers don't wake up one day and commit murder. They rehearse in fantasy. They start with smaller crimes—peeping, burglary, s*xual assault. The violence builds over time.
If you mapped the progression, you could identify offenders earlier in their criminal careers. Before the body count got too high.
She explained trauma bonding and victim compliance.
Why didn't the victim scream? Why did she get in the car? Why did she go to the secondary location?
Because trauma shuts down the nervous system. Because compliance is a survival strategy. Because the offender manipulated the situation in ways that made resistance feel impossible.
Understanding victim behavior wasn't about blaming the victim.
It was about understanding the offender's skill set.

In 1983, everything Burgess taught the FBI got tested in the real world.
Boys were disappearing in Nebraska. Young teenagers. Murdered.
The FBI's Behavioral Science Unit was called in to develop a profile.
Burgess led the analysis.
She looked at the victims: young, pubescent boys. Not s*xually mature adults. Not children.
She looked at where they were taken: while jogging, while walking home from school. Public places, but isolated moments.
She looked at the wounds: stabbing, biting. Close-contact violence. Rage mixed with s*xual gratification.
And she built a profile.
The offender would be a young white man, slight build, in a position of trust with children. Likely a teacher, coach, youth leader, or scout master.
He would keep souvenirs. Possibly detective magazines. Things that let him relive the crimes.
He would have a history of voyeurism or minor s*xual offenses that had been overlooked.

The profile led police to John Joseph Joubert IV.
He was 20 years old. An assistant scoutmaster.
In his possession: a detective magazine with a dog-eared page showing a boy being abducted.
When they searched his home, they found evidence linking him to all the murders.
He was convicted. Sentenced to death.
And the FBI's Behavioral Science Unit went from fringe operation to legitimate investigative resource overnight.

The case made national news.
It was entered into the Congressional Record.
Newspapers called it a breakthrough in criminal investigation.
And in nearly every article, the credit went to FBI agents Robert Ressler and John Douglas.
Ann Burgess's name appeared once, maybe twice, buried in paragraphs near the end.

This became the pattern for the next four decades.
Burgess and the agents published groundbreaking research together: Sexual Homicide: Patterns and Motives (1988), Crime Classification Manual (1992).
Academic papers. Books. Frameworks that law enforcement agencies around the world adopted.
But when the public story got told, it was about the brilliant FBI agents who'd cracked the code of the criminal mind.
The psychiatric nurse who'd taught them victimology, who'd designed the methodology, who'd provided the scientific rigor that made profiling credible?
Footnote. Maybe.

In 1995, John Douglas published Mindhunter: Inside the FBI's Elite Serial Crime Unit.
Bestseller. Cultural phenomenon.
In 2017, Netflix adapted it into a critically acclaimed series.
They created a character based on Burgess: Dr. Wendy Carr, played by Anna Torv.
But they made her a psychologist. Not a nurse. "Because audiences wouldn't understand nursing," they said.
They made her a le***an. Childless. Someone who moved to Quantico and gave up her career to join the FBI full-time.
None of that was true.
Burgess was married. Had children. Consulted from Boston while maintaining her academic position.
When her son first watched the show, he called her and joked: "What haven't you told me, Mother?"

Most viewers never knew Dr. Wendy Carr was based on a real person.
And most of those who did know assumed the show was accurate.
For years, people approached Burgess at conferences and asked if it was hard being closeted in the FBI in the 1970s.
She'd smile and explain: "I'm not gay. I didn't move to Quantico. I'm not a psychologist. I'm a psychiatric nurse. And I have three children."
They'd look confused.
As if the real story wasn't interesting enough.

Here's what Ann Burgess actually did:
She proved that r**e causes lasting psychological trauma—something the legal system had denied for centuries.
She created the term "r**e trauma syndrome," now recognized in over 300 appellate court decisions.
She taught the FBI that understanding victims is the key to catching predators.
She developed the methodology for criminal profiling that's still used today.
She testified as an expert witness in hundreds of cases—including the Menendez brothers trial.
She trained thousands of nurses, investigators, and prosecutors.
She published over 150 articles and numerous books.
She served on the National Academy of Sciences Institute of Medicine.
She chaired the National Research Council's Task Force on Violence Against Women.
And for most of her career, when people thought about criminal profiling, they thought about men.

It wasn't until 2021—when Burgess was 85 years old—that she published her own account: A Killer by Design.
Finally, the full story.
Not as a footnote in someone else's memoir. Not as a fictionalized character. Not erased.
In 2024, Hulu released Mastermind: To Think Like a Killer—a docuseries that placed Burgess at the center of the narrative where she'd always belonged.
And people were shocked.
Because they'd watched Mindhunter. They'd read the books. They thought they knew the story.
They had no idea a woman had been there the whole time.

Ann Burgess is 88 years old now.
Still teaching at Boston College. Still publishing. Still consulting.
And finally—finally—getting recognized for what she built.
Not as inspiration for a character.
As herself.

You’ve been warned! 😁

To all the amazing women out there. From the loud ones to the quiet ones. Those challenging & changing our culture, and those quietly contributing to a better future for everyone. We reflect on and celebrate you today 😊. .

Language matters.

We often take for granted the way something is described, whether that’s in the media or conversation. But there is always more than one way of saying something, reflecting different angles, details and, in some cases, the truth of the matter.

Part of my Linguistics degree was analysing media reports to highlight how they frame their articles in ways that manipulate their audience’s perception and push certain agendas.

Years later, it’s been exciting to see movements like arise with the goal of raising awareness about language choices, and challenging how it is used and abused in the media.

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1J6T82bUNZ/?mibextid=wwXIfr