How Family Courts Are Compromised by Coercive Control
Exploring covert tactics of emotional manipulation in family court disputes
Family courts are traditionally seen as arbiters of fairness: institutions that protect the vulnerable and purportedly uphold the “principles of justice”.
For anyone who has read my other work on here, you’ll know that as a former barrister (lawyer) with near a decade’s experience working across a variety of courts, I hold a more cynical perspective.
In my experience, when it comes to cases tainted by the shadow of coercive control, these purported “halls of justice” are particularly lacking.
In such cases, I would go so far as to say that family courts often in fact become stages where manipulation plays out unchecked.
Coercive control, despite its profound psychological implications, remains a poorly understood phenomenon within the family court system.
The problem arises in part due to the fact that its signs are subtle and insidious, unlike visible scars or bruises. Yet, its impacts are profound, eroding a victim’s sense of self and autonomy.
Within the solemn atmosphere of family courts, perpetrators can adeptly use coercive control to unjustifiably manipulate narratives, turning the tables on their victims and, in many cases, successfully skewing the court’s perception of events.
The system’s inherent weaknesses and lack of nuanced understanding of this form of abuse enable such manipulation, often leaving the true victim discredited and disadvantaged.
What This Looks Like In Practice
Coercive control is adept at slipping through the cracks, drawing its power from its stealth. It’s not a singular act but a recurring pattern of behavior that persistently gnaws at the victim’s psyche.
Over time, it establishes an overwhelming sense of powerlessness in the victim, like a fog that slowly envelops and obscures clear sight.
(For those not already familiar with the term, I’ve describes its main tenets in more detail here).
In the confines of a courtroom, where the goal should be clarity and truth, this mist of manipulation assumes new, disturbing dimensions.
Perpetrators, skilled in their craft, weave narratives designed to unjustifiably or illegitimately paint themselves as the aggrieved parties, injured by the very individuals they oppress.
Consequently, for those looking from the outside in, discerning truth from falsehood becomes a complex task.
Evasion and deflection are the go-to tools for the coercively controlling individual. They skilfully contort facts and reframe events.
A simple example could be that of financial domination.
When faced with accusations of monetary control, the controller might spin a tale of the victim’s alleged “financial irresponsibility,” positioning their domineering actions as much-needed interventions for the greater good of the family.
In the courtroom, this defence could be articulated through statements such as, “I had to take charge of our finances, your honour, because otherwise, we’d be bankrupt.” Or “They never understood the value of money or budgeting.”
The court, lacking full context and struggling with the nuanced, often hidden nature of coercive control, might view this as a reasonable defence.
It places the victim in the difficult position of having to refute not just the allegations of fiscal irresponsibility but also to illustrate a pattern of financial control and manipulation — a task made even more arduous by their lack of access to financial records or assets.
Abusers will often also magnify isolated incidents, suggesting that their victim is inherently unstable or driven by malicious intent.
A rare emotional outburst, for example, perhaps an outcome of prolonged mental and emotional strain, will get misrepresented as evidence of the victim’s “volatile temperament” or supposed “propensity for hostility.”
And when victims raise genuine concerns about this controlling behavior, they’re often met with dismissive remarks.
The perpetrator might half-admit to some level of control, but always with a caveat that paints their actions as benign or even beneficial.
Comments like “I was only looking out for you,” or “You never grasped the bigger picture,” serve to muddy the waters, making it seem as if the victim’s reactions are excessive or misguided.
Similarly, when victims may try to articulate the emotional strain they’ve been under, the controller will frequently turn the situation around to make it about their own hardships or sacrifices.
They might concede to some instances of overbearing behavior, but quickly follow up with justifications that emphasise their purportedly altruistic intentions.
Phrases like “I did all this for our future,” or “You never appreciated how hard I worked for the family,” often emerge.
These statements, designed to induce guilt or confusion, further obfuscate the reality, painting the victim as ungrateful or inattentive to the controller’s purported ‘sacrifices’.
In the courtroom, a victim’s attempts to articulate the profound emotional and psychological toll they have endured are often undermined with these counter-narratives of the abuser’s “sacrifices” and “struggles.”
These calculated interjections are designed to elicit sympathy and sow doubt, painting the abuser as the bearer of burdens, and the victim as unappreciative or self-centred.
In instances where victims highlight the isolating tactics of the controller, such as being kept away from friends or family, the perpetrator will often also frame such issues within the context of familial protection.
They might reluctantly acknowledge their actions, only to follow with statements like, “I wanted to keep our family away from bad influences,” or “I was ensuring our children had a stable environment, free from external drama.”
Such declarations, especially within the walls of a family court, manipulate the narrative, presenting the controller as a proactive guardian rather than an oppressor, thereby clouding the court’s judgment and making the victim’s concerns appear as mere overreactions or misunderstandings.
In this environment, the victim confronts a dual challenge: battling not only the manipulative tactics of the abuser but also navigating a courtroom dynamic that, inadvertently or not, can facilitate the continuation of abuse.
Consequently, the space that should signify refuge and justice morphs into an extension of the coercive control battleground, where the victim’s voice is stifled, and the abuser’s narrative is often the one that holds sway.
Manipulating the Narrative with Children
In these emotionally charged disputes, children unfortunately often find themselves inadvertently placed at the epicentre of the storm.
The coercive controller, adept at manipulation, capitalises on the vulnerabilities associated with parenthood and the inherent desire of the court to prioritise the child’s welfare.
Every parenting decision of the victim is subjected to unwarranted scrutiny; their parenting style is not just questioned but frequently vilified.
Children, by their nature, are susceptible to influence and, regrettably, can be used as conduits for the controller’s narrative.
Allegations may be levied that the victimised parent has not only failed in their duties but is actively detrimental to the child’s emotional and psychological well-being.
An instance of a child’s misbehaviour or a typical parent-child disagreement can be taken out of context, inflated, and presented as evidence of parental unfitness.
The coercive controller’s ability to shift the narrative is not to be underestimated either.
By focusing the court’s attention on isolated and exaggerated instances of perceived parental shortcomings, the genuine issue at hand — the controlling and manipulative behavior — is often obscured.
The court, tasked with the solemn duty to safeguard the child’s welfare, may inadvertently become enmeshed in these manipulative tactics, with the child’s voice lost amidst the clamour.
In these cases, the coercive controller often assumes the role of the “protective” parent.
They may introduce evidence, often inconsequential or entirely misconstrued, intended to corroborate their claims of the victim’s incompetence or maliciousness.
The victim, thus, is placed on the defensive, compelled to refute an onslaught of accusations whilst struggling to redirect the court’s focus to the central issue of coercive control.
Children often also find themselves pressured or subtly influenced to align with the narrative spun by the controlling parent.
This manipulation extends the theatre of control, exacerbating the emotional toll on the victim and implicating the children in a dynamic that can have long-lasting impacts on their psychological well-being and perception of interpersonal relationships.
Where I Think The Courts Get It Wrong
In their pursuit of justice, the courts operate on the principles of tangible evidence and demonstrable harm. At face value, this approach appears to be the backbone of fairness.
However, when it comes to the intricacies of coercive control, the courts, I believe, fundamentally misstep in their approach.
Firstly, the very nature of coercive control is its intangibility.
Unlike physical abuse, which leaves visible markers, coercive control is psychological, leaving scars that are invisible but deeply felt.
Those who have experienced coercive control and managed to escape the relationship may not have even heard of the term, even as they attempt to describe the difficulties they have endured.
Without appropriately trained professionals to hear them, it is my experience that their situation only becomes murkier.
The courts’ inclination towards ‘hard evidence’ often means that the subtle, persistent psychological torments that victims endure don’t hold the same weight as a bruise or a fracture.
The insidious, pervasive harm of coercive control isn’t easily captured in photographs or medical reports, rendering its evidentiary value in court proceedings frustratingly diminished.
Secondly, the judicial process inadvertently fosters an environment where the victim’s lived experience is constantly contested.
Cross-examination, a cornerstone of the legal process, can unintentionally resemble the dynamics of coercive control itself.
Victims find themselves repeatedly questioned, doubted, and forced to relive their trauma in minute detail.
This dynamic not only risks re-traumatisation but also strengthens the perpetrator’s position, as they watch their victim falter, hesitate, or break down under intense scrutiny.
Additionally, the adversarial nature of the court system, which pitches one party against the other, inadvertently equalises the victim and the abuser.
It frames the situation as a ‘dispute’ where both sides are given equal voice and credibility.
This false equivalence fails to recognise the power dynamics at play, where one party has been manipulating and controlling the narrative long before stepping into the courtroom.
A notable misstep is also the court’s frequent reliance on (so-called) “neutral” third-party evaluations, such as “custody evaluations” or “lawyer for the child” in child-related disputes.
While the intent is to provide an unbiased perspective, evaluators without specialised training in coercive control can easily be swayed by the controller’s often charismatic and convincing demeanour.
They may miss the subtle signs of manipulation, potentially recommending shared custody or even favouring the controlling party, thus further entrenching the victim and their children in the cycle of abuse.
I have personally seen this in case after case, and am aware that there is a large body of academics now beginning to demonstrate the prevalence of these issues empirically too.
Lastly, the courts often treat cases of coercive control as isolated incidents rather than viewing them as a continuous, overarching pattern of abuse.
This segmented approach quite literally misses the forest for the trees.
Individual incidents, when viewed in isolation, may appear benign or even justified. But when stitched together, they reveal a chilling tapestry of domination and control.
(For a specific example of this, see my discussion and description of a case that dealt with these issues).
The Lingering Shadow of Coercive Control
Family court proceedings are intended to bring closure and “justice”, allowing families to move on from the trauma of their separation.
Unfortunately, in my experience, many (perhaps most) “defended” applications, where matters cannot be resolved in mediation or short of a judge finally determining matters, have something more sinister, often unseen and misunderstood, going on.
And unfortunately, with lawyers and judges not wholly trained to recognise and appropriately address such issues, family courts inadvertently end up prolonging and even amplifying the emotional and psychological turmoil for everyone involved.
For victims who have mustered the courage to confront their oppressors in court, the expectation is one of validation and relief.
However, they often find themselves in a whirlwind of distorted narratives and face a system that can seem indifferent, if not hostile, to their pain.
In my experience, their traumatic experiences, instead of being acknowledged and addressed, are frequently re-litigated, dissected, and sometimes even invalidated, exacerbating their trauma.
The implications become even more profound when children are embroiled in these disputes.
They, too, bear the weight of the coercive controller’s machinations.
Innocence is often exploited; their words may be twisted, or their genuine feelings suppressed, all to further the controller’s narrative.
This manipulation not only risks alienating them from the victimised parent but also sows seeds of confusion, mistrust, and emotional conflict.
The resultant emotional tumult can shape their formative years and cast long shadows over their future relationships, trust dynamics, and self-worth.
Legal professionals, not extensively trained to understand the psychological and sociological issues at play (as they need to be, but generally are not), almost always (in my experience) fail to give appropriate voice to issues raised by children (whether directly or inadvertently).
Family and friends who support the victim often also face their own struggles, as they are caught in the crossfire of the legal battle.
Their accounts or testimonies may be downplayed, and their intentions questioned, thereby indirectly challenging their sense of reality and morality.
Again, lawyers and judges dress up these eventualities as just a “necessary” part of the adversarial process, often without critically evaluating whether the system does actually achieve any of the aims it sets out to achieve.
In my experience, our court systems are not, in their present states, equipped to recognise or mitigate these widespread impacts of coercive control, underscoring the dire need for reform and deeper understanding.
They are from another time, and they urgently need to modernise.
