Editor’s note: mentions of violence, murder, whorephobia, discrimination against workers by police
“Some were prostitutes but perhaps the saddest part of the case is that some were not. The last six attacks were on totally respectable women.” – Sir Michael Havers, Attorney General.
On 13 November 2020, Peter Sutcliffe, also known as the Yorkshire Ripper, died in prison. If you didn’t know who he was, you could get an idea from the outpouring of obituaries and thinkpieces that sprung up after his death.
According to the media, the story of Sutcliffe went something like this: He was a serial killer who attacked civilian women in late 1970s Yorkshire, England. The police didn’t act to find and prosecute him in time, because they wrongly believed he was simply a “prostitute killer.”
In a reflection on Sutcliffe’s death, the chair of the Mayor of London’s Violence Against Women and Girls (VAWG) Board wrote that the police’s mishandling of the case was a failure to listen to all women and survivors. Sutcliffe's obituary confidently says, “[He] made little distinction to whom he targeted as long as she was a woman.”
There’s an implication here: the police were wrong in how they handled the case, but only because they treated the victims like sex workers. The real misogyny was in calling these victims sex workers–not in dismissing a “prostitute killer.”
Looking a little deeper, the story goes further. Between 1975 and 1980, Sutcliffe killed thirteen women and attacked another eight. At least eight of them were sex workers. Some of those sex workers were outdoor workers from the local red light district.
There’s an implication here: the police were wrong in how they handled the case, but only because they treated the victims like sex workers.
Sutcliffe was on local blacklists. Over the course of the murders, some sex workers attempted to report him to the police. One even identified his number plate to the police, having entered his car for work.
West Yorkshire police ignored these testimonies because they came from sex workers. This was also why they ignored Sutcliffe’s civilian victims. The police thought of these women as ‘loose’, and so conflated them with sex workers.
The police only began to take the murders seriously when, by 1979, “public apathy towards… prostitutes was replaced by a climate of fear… that all women were now at risk.” The Superintendent on the case, Jim Hobson, told the press that the killer “has made it clear that he hates prostitutes. Many people do. We… will continue to arrest prostitutes. But the Ripper is now killing innocent girls.”
Just by focusing a little more on the sex workers, we can see how Sutcliffe victimised specific types of women. He told the court he was on a “divine mission” to cleanse the area of sex workers. It makes sense then, that he targeted outdoor workers, who were criminalised by solicitation laws, more likely to jump into Sutcliffe’s car to avoid the police, and stigmatised by their community. As the Superintendent himself said, these women were readily “hated” and actively arrested. Criminalisation and stigma made them vulnerable to violence then, just as it does now.
We can also see how the police didn’t act on sex workers’ reports until some victims were civilians. That’s just how much sex worker knowledge and life is devalued. As sex workers, we’re often seen as passive receptacles, not active agents. People can’t really believe that we understand the systems we’re intimate with. The phrase “canary in a coalmine” comes to my mind.
It’s clear that it’s not just a general kind of misogyny behind the violence here. The misogyny stems from whorephobia; it’s driven by whorephobia.
The police, media, and mainstream feminists have worked together to erase whorephobia from the story of Sutcliffe’s violence. They’ve worked together to reinforce that violence, too. SWERFs are using Sutcliffe’s death to push for criminalising sex workers further. Violence against sex workers becomes a tool to enact more violence against us, in the name of keeping all women safe–well, the ‘respectable’ ones, at least.
Criminalisation and stigma made them vulnerable to violence then, just as it does now.
This 17th of December is International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers. I wanted to write about Sutcliffe for today because this case tells us so much about the word ‘violence.’ As a sex worker, I’ve experienced plenty of violence–from clients, institutions, and even feminists. I think most of my colleagues might say the same.
Despite this, sex workers are not generally considered experts on violence. Talking to sex workers, understanding our lives, and truly looking at whorephobia, could give us all a better understanding of violence. How violence succeeds when people can be categorised into ‘respectable’ and ‘other.’ How ending violence will never come from respectability, but from seeing and truly respecting that ‘other.’
Every December 17th fills me with sadness at the colleagues and friends we have lost to interpersonal and state violence. At the same time, I am proud to be an unrespectable prostitute. Knowing that we are this, and still never deserve violence, is what gives us integrity.
After Sir Michael Havers made his comments, the English Collective of Prostitutes (ECP) protested. Looking at their letters and press clippings, we can see that they campaigned passionately about the “distinction [being made] between prostitutes… and ‘innocent’ victims… by the police and media”. They publicly named the police’s “biased” neglect of the case as being due to the fact that the first victims were sex workers, as well as the public’s whorephobia.
Most beautifully for me, they titled their press statement, “Prostitutes are innocent, OK!”
Are you a sex worker with a story, opinion, news, or tips to share? We'd love to hear from you!
We started the tryst.link sex worker blog to help amplify those who aren't handed the mic and bring attention to the issues ya'll care about the most. Got a tale to tell? 👇☂️✨
