The work of justice always has been a struggle against forces that seek to label, condemn and exclude. But in our digital age, a new form of punishment has emerged that clings to people long after their official debt to society has been paid.
Sociologist Sarah Lageson, in her book Digital Punishment, describes how the permanence of the internet creates a system of perpetual stigma: criminal records, mugshots and past mistakes that follow people forever online. These digital scars make reintegration nearly impossible, and they reveal a troubling truth — that our culture, even in its calls for justice, often struggles to extend grace.
Nicole Wiesen
For Christians and faith-rooted organizations, this reality presents a spiritual challenge. The gospel tells us, “If anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation.” But digital punishment denies people the possibility of becoming new. Instead, it keeps them trapped in old labels, reinforcing the same carceral logics of shame and surveillance Jesus consistently challenged.
Recall how Christ refused to condemn the woman accused of adultery, choosing mercy over punishment. Yet in the digital world, stones are thrown daily through online exposure, public shaming and the endless circulation of past mistakes.
Nonprofits committed to social justice are not immune to these dynamics. Sometimes, in the name of transparency or accountability, organizations replicate the same punitive culture they oppose. Background checks become barriers to employment. Social media callouts turn into permanent banishments. Even internal conflicts are sometimes handled through digital shaming rather than restorative dialogue.
The result is predictable: Retraumatized staff, silenced voices, fractured communities.
This is the paradox of our age: While movements for justice seek to dismantle mass incarceration and systemic oppression, the digital ecosystem often undermines that very work. As Lageson’s research shows, the internet turns records into commodities. Data brokers profit from selling histories that should be allowed to fade. Employers, landlords and even neighbors make snap judgments based on Google searches, often without context.
For those who have served time or been entangled in the system, there is no clean slate, no jubilee year of release, no forgiveness of debts. Instead, there is permanent exile.
“While movements for justice seek to dismantle mass incarceration and systemic oppression, the digital ecosystem often undermines that very work.”
The harm extends beyond those directly affected. When people fear exposure, they are less likely to participate in advocacy or leadership. When staff within nonprofits feel unsafe, they withdraw rather than bring their full selves to the mission. And when trauma is repeated through digital surveillance, algorithmic bias or online shaming, the entire movement suffers. Trust erodes. Communities fracture. The prophetic vision of the beloved community grows dim.
What, then, can nonprofits do to resist digital punishment and embody a trauma-informed way of being?
First, we must embrace the principle of “do no further harm.” The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration describes trauma-informed care as grounded in safety, trust, empowerment and collaboration. Applied to nonprofits, this means considering not only how we interact face-to-face but also how we use technology, data and online platforms. Before posting or sharing, leaders should ask: Does this heal, or does this harm? Does this invite restoration or reinforce shame?
Second, we can look to restorative practices as alternatives to digital shaming. Some communities are experimenting with new tools that prioritize repair over punishment, even online. In practice, this could mean facilitating apologies, mediations or truth-telling circles rather than defaulting to public callouts. As people of faith, we recognize reconciliation is not easy, but it is central to our witness.
Third, we can center survivors in our advocacy. Organizations like Right to Be (formerly Hollaback!) have shown that digital storytelling, when handled with care, can promote healing rather than re-traumatization. Survivors who share their experiences find solidarity and support when platforms are designed with compassion. Nonprofits can learn from this by creating spaces where stories are honored, not exploited.
Finally, we must confront the technological systems that reproduce inequity. The work of the Algorithmic Justice League, led by Joy Buolamwini, shows how biased algorithms perpetuate discrimination in hiring, policing and housing. Faith-based and justice-centered organizations should add their voices to this advocacy, insisting that technology reflect human dignity rather than dehumanization.
“We must confront the technological systems that reproduce inequity.”
Theologically, this work is not optional, it is essential. The prophets consistently warned against systems that oppress the poor and marginalized. Isaiah declared woe upon those “who make unjust laws” and “deprive the poor of their rights.” In our era, unjust laws often are embedded not only in legislation but in code — algorithms that sort, exclude and punish. If the church is to remain faithful, it must recognize these new forms of injustice and respond with courage and compassion.
The good news is that nonprofits can lead the way. By committing to trauma-informed practice, organizations can ensure their work aligns with the gospel of grace. This means prioritizing safety, fostering trust and creating cultures of restoration. It means resisting the urge to shame or surveil and instead choosing to accompany people on their journey of healing. It means becoming, in the truest sense, communities of resurrection — where new life is not only proclaimed but practiced.
Digital punishment may be the reality of our age, but it does not have to be our future. Nonprofits, especially those grounded in faith, have the opportunity to model a better way: one rooted in compassion, mercy and justice.
As followers of Christ, we are called not to keep people chained to their past but to walk with them into freedom. In an age that never forgets, the church must insist on forgiveness. In a culture that clings to punishment, we must embody grace.
Here are some ideas:
- Re-examine hiring, volunteer and data policies to ensure they do not unintentionally extend punishment.
- Educate congregations on the dangers of digital shaming and the Christian alternative of restorative accountability.
- Advocate for policies that regulate predatory online mugshot sites and data brokers.
- Create trauma-informed ministries that not only welcome but actively empower those carrying the scars of incarceration or public shame.
If we believe in grace, then we must embody it — not just in worship but in our digital practices. If we proclaim new creation, then we must resist systems that keep people bound to old identities. And if we follow Jesus, we must put down the digital stones in our hands and stand alongside those who are too often left isolated in the public square.
Nicole Wiesen serves as director of communications for Georgians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty and is a Public Voices Fellow on racial justice in early childhood with the OpEd Project in partnership with the National Black Child Development Institute. She advocates for advancing mental health resources for previously incarcerated individuals.