‘It’s a love–hate relationship’: female crown prosecutors’ experiences of prosecuting sexual violence and abuse cases

Abstract

This study used interpretive phenomenological analysis (IPA) to examine six female New Zealand Crown prosecutors’ (CPs’) experiences of working with adult and child sexual violence and abuse (SVA) cases. Three themes were developed from the data: navigating the emotional and legal aspects of the role without a compass, the impacts of working with potentially traumatic material, and factors influencing wellbeing and help seeking. Working with SVA cases was viewed as rewarding by participants; however, exposure to sexual trauma was perceived to exacerbate occupational stressors and impacts of working with potentially traumatic material. A lack of training on interpersonal and emotional management skills and how to appropriately work with complainants of SVA were considered to exacerbate these stressors. Workplace culture, attitudes towards wellbeing and organisational support either alleviated or exacerbated occupational stressors and their impacts. Policy and practice to support female CPs working with SVA cases is urgently required.

The criminal justice system (CJS) is an environment permeated by trauma. People interacting with the CJS have often experienced victimisation and/or perpetrated harm, which is then examined and discussed in exhaustive detail throughout the justice process. While the effects of these traumatic events on the civilians who participate in the CJS is somewhat self-evident, a growing body of research has explored the cumulative effects of indirect exposure to trauma for those who work within this system. Indirect or secondary exposure to trauma has been found to be associated with increased likelihood of experiencing poor physical, emotional and psychological wellbeing, which are characteristic of vicarious trauma (VT; Branson, 2019; McCann & Pearlman, 1990; Woodhams & Duran, 2024). As CJS professionals predominantly work directly with or adjacent to people who have experienced or caused significant harm, they have been highlighted as a group who are likely to be at increased risk of developing symptoms of VT (Maguire & Byrne, 2017).

Much of the literature examining the impacts of indirect exposure to trauma focuses on people working in ‘helper’ occupations such as social workers (Michalopoulos & Aparicio, 2012), psychologists and counsellors (Schauben & Frazier, 1995), mental health providers (Finklestein et al., 2015) or health care personnel (Sorenson et al., 2016). Research on VT in the CJS has expanded this scope but still focuses primarily on frontline workers such as police or corrections officers (Ko & Memon, 2023). This has cast other professional groups who deal with occupational trauma, such as legal professionals, as ‘invisible victims’ (Eliasson, 2022; Mello, 2014).

In recent years there has been increased focus on examining the impacts of indirect exposure to trauma in legal professionals (e.g. Bonnes et al., 2025; Leonard et al., 2023; Popa et al., 2024; Schrever et al., 2024; Weir et al., 2021). However, criminal lawyers are one group of professionals who have received relatively little attention in the literature but are exposed to a wide range of potentially traumatic material (PTM; i.e. crime scene photos, photographs of injuries, written and verbal descriptions of assault or abuse; Iversen & Robertson, 2021; James, 2020) while providing legal services, including to victims of crime (Murray & Royer, 2004). Criminal lawyers are also expected to maintain emotional detachment in order to uphold legal norms of impartial and dispassionate judgement (Murray & Royer, 2004; Vrklevski & Franklin, 2008). As a professional group, lawyers tend to endorse a ‘toughen up’ approach to wellbeing, which can stigmatise help-seeking, professional support and mental health difficulties more broadly (James, 2020; Leclerc et al., 2020). Research suggests criminal lawyers experience trauma symptomology, work-related stress and burnout at higher rates than lawyers working in other subdisciplines, mental health providers and social service workers (Léonard et al., 2020; Maguire & Byrne, 2017; Vrklevski & Franklin, 2008). While frequent exposure to the trauma of others is associated with an increased likelihood of VT, an intersectional understanding of wellbeing is needed to understand this pattern of findings, which accounts for the individual, social, structural and contextual factors that shape experiences of wellness (Collier, 2025; Soon et al., 2024). However, empirical research that considers intersectionality (across time, individual, social, structural and contextual domains) in legal professionals’ experiences of wellbeing is currently lacking (Collier, 2025).

In the New Zealand legal system, Crown prosecutors (CPs) are responsible for prosecuting all Category 4 offences and many Category 3 offences, which include murder, manslaughter, serious physical violence, and sexual violence and abuse (SVA). This requires them to analyse in detail difficult and often graphic material to present the best case before the court, and in SVA cases they must also meet with affected complainants. CPs are therefore exposed to high levels of traumatic and distressing material as well as traumatised people, highlighting unique structural and contextual factors that may influence their occupational wellbeing.

Previous research suggests that criminal lawyers find SVA to be more distressing than other types of PTM (Kim et al., 2023; Weir et al., 2021). This is reflected in the wider literature where SVA has been documented as a prevalent stressor for both primary and secondary trauma (Kassam-Adams, 1995), with exposure to SVA found to predict posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) more strongly than other traumas like physical violence or natural disasters (Creamer et al., 2001; Kessler et al., 1995). In the context of secondary trauma, professionals working solely with victims of SVA are likely to develop more severe VT symptoms due to the deeply interpersonal nature of SVA where victims arguably experience more severe, long-lasting trauma than victims of other forms of violence (Cunningham, 2003; Kessler et al., 2017). Research has identified that professionals who work closely with victims of SVA (e.g. sexual assault nurses, counsellors and police) exhibit significantly higher levels of VT-related symptoms than those in similar professions who do not work with victims of SVA (Johnson & Hunter, 1997; Martin et al., 1986; Raunick et al., 2015; Schauben & Frazier, 1995). Further, experiences of VT are suggested to be exacerbated by working with a high volume of clients who have experienced trauma (Schauben & Frazier, 1995). This would suggest that working with SVA presents an elevated risk of developing symptoms of VT over and above that of working with PTM generally.

In addition to a lack of focus on structural and contextual factors that impact lawyer wellbeing, there has also been limited consideration of how individual characteristics, such as gender, may shape individual experiences of wellbeing within the legal profession. This analysis is necessary to provide a more nuanced understanding of the intersectional nature of wellbeing (Collier, 2025). The limited research with legal professionals has returned mixed findings regarding gender differences in experiences of VT (Léonard et al., 2020). However, some studies suggest that experiences unique to female lawyers can influence their wellbeing when working with PTM. For example, relative to their male counterparts, females are reportedly exposed to higher levels of trauma (Leclerc et al., 2020), experience higher levels of internalising symptoms (e.g. anxiety, depression, stress, impaired sleep and eating; Jaffe et al., 2003), and are more likely to experience burnout as a result of emotional stressors (Park et al., 2022).

In addition to potential differences in the experience and manifestation of trauma symptoms, gender-stereotypical beliefs have been found to have unique implications for female legal practitioners, particularly when working with SVA. This includes, for example, a widespread assumption that female survivors of SVA are better responded to by female professionals (Simpson & Fothergill, 2004). SVA also tends to be treated as a gendered issue, with men primarily perpetrators and women primarily victims¹ (Okan, 2016). Further, Siemsen (2004) found that female legal practitioners were more likely to form a strong emotional attachment and feel a sense of responsibility or ‘sisterhood’ with female victims, which may contribute to a stronger emotional response (i.e. anger towards the perpetrator). Women have also been suggested to be more at risk of being indirectly harmed when working with sexual trauma, possibly due to gendered experiences of sexual trauma, which may result in a different pattern of responses than those of their male counterparts (Baum et al., 2014). Taken together, these findings suggest that there may be a unique combination of individual, social, contextual and structural factors that shape female criminal lawyers’ experiences of working with SVA cases.

Given the limited focus on the intersectional nature of VT and wellbeing, this study aims to extend previous research by qualitatively exploring how female CPs experience working with SVA cases in the New Zealand CJS. The research also aims to examine the impacts of SVA work on female CPs’ wellbeing, the coping strategies they use to manage this, and the factors they perceive to help and hinder wellbeing when working with SVA cases. Given that CPs are responsible for prosecuting high volumes of SVA cases, it is important to understand both female CPs’ experiences of working within this context and how they respond to this increased level of exposure to PTM, to inform the development of tailored professional and workplace wellbeing initiatives.

Method

Design

Interpretive phenomenological analysis (IPA) was used to explore New Zealand female CPs’ experiences of working with SVA in the CJS. IPA is a qualitative research methodology that seeks to provide a detailed account of individuals’ experiences using a phenomenological and idiographic approach (Smith et al., 2009). IPA is therefore concerned with the meaning-making processes used by individuals to make sense of their lived experiences (Larkin & Thompson, 2011); thus, it is an appropriate method for exploring how a particular group (i.e. female CPs) make sense of their experiences of a particular phenomenon (i.e. working with SVA cases).

Procedure

This study was conducted as part of a wider project examining New Zealand legal professionals’ experiences of working with emotion and PTM in the CJS, and involved secondary analysis of a sub-set of data from an existing corpus of interviews with 90 criminal lawyers (38 working as CPs, 5 working for Crown Law²). Ethical approval for the wider project and the secondary analysis was provided by the University Human Ethics Committee (Ref: 29781, Ref: 2805).

Male and female CPs were recruited for the wider project from Crown Solicitor firms across New Zealand and Crown Law. Crown Solicitors were contacted by the research team and were asked to distribute a participant information sheet outlining the aims of the study to all practising CPs in the firm. Those who were interested in participating were instructed to contact the research team directly to maintain confidentiality and anonymity. CPs who expressed interest in the research were provided with written consent forms, and a date and time for an individual interview were arranged. Interviews were conducted in person or via audio-visual link (e.g. Zoom) between April 2020 and July 2022.

Interviews were conducted by members of a research team comprising eight female researchers, who all have an academic background in psychology and/or law. Interviews were semi-structured in nature and ranged in length from 42 minutes to 2.5 hours. Interviews covered participants’ demographics, their journey into and role as a legal professional, their experiences of working with emotion and PTM and how they manage this, workplace supports, and strategies for managing wellbeing.

Participants were advised that they could leave the interview at any time and were free to withdraw from the research up to 8 weeks following their interview date. Participants were also given the opportunity to request a copy of their interview transcript and redact any information they did not want to be included and/or published within this same 8-week period. Following the interview, participants were provided with a debrief sheet, which included details of a range of free support services. All interviews were audio recorded and transcribed verbatim by either a member of the research team or a confidential external transcription service (which were quality checked by the research team). Participants were allocated a pseudonym to protect their identities, and any potentially identifying information was redacted.

For the current study, the first author reviewed the demographics of the wider data corpus to identify interviews with participants who identified as female CPs (n = 26). Interview recordings and transcripts for each of these participants were then reviewed to identify those who had significant experience of working with SVA cases as part of their role. As the interviews were initially conducted to focus on experiences of emotion and PTM more broadly, it was important that interviews selected for inclusion included detailed discussions of participants’ experiences of working with SVA material. Therefore, only participants who made multiple references to their experiences of prosecuting SVA cases, working with SVA material and/or engaging with SVA complainants were included for analysis.

Data selection and analysis were led by the first author with input from the third and fourth authors. Given the increased risk for qualitative researchers to experience secondary traumatisation from working with the traumatic experiences of others (Wasco & Campbell, 2002), the first author engaged in regular reflective supervision with the third and fourth authors throughout the research process. This provided an avenue to address issues or adverse reactions that arose from the active role in the research process. University support services were also available to the research team throughout the research process.

Participants

From reviewing the recordings and transcripts in the data corpus, four female CPs were identified who had significant experiences of working with sexual trauma and whose transcripts included detailed discussion about their experiences of working with this material. Two further participants were identified who spoke less frequently (i.e. one to three times within the interview) about their experiences of working with SVA cases but offered important insights into those experiences, so were judged to be of sufficient value to be included. One participant was an Assistant Crown Counsel (i.e. a junior Counsel undertaking mainly appellate work for the Crown) rather than a CP. This participant was included as both roles involve occupational exposure to PTM and prosecution of offences involving SVA. This provided a total sample size of six participants for the current study, which is in line with recommended sample sizes for IPA of between 3 and 9 participants (Smith et al., 2009).

Demographics for each participant are presented in Table 1. Years of experience as a CP ranged from two to six and a half years (M = 4.3 years). Five participants (83.3%) identified as Pākehā (NZ European) and one (16.7%) as Chinese. Participants’ ages ranged from 27 to 34 years (M = 31.5 years).

Table 1.

Participant demographics.

Pseudonym	Gender	Age (years)	Ethnicity	Years of experience
Alex	Female	30	Pākehā	5
Jessie	Female	32	Pākehā	2.5
Mackenzie	Female	34	Pākehā	6.5
Riley	Female	32	Chinese	5
Devon	Female	27	Pākehā	2
Casey	Female	34	Pākehā	5

Data analysis

Previous research using data from the wider corpus of interviews has used reflexive thematic analysis (Braun & Clarke, 2006, 2021a) to examine themes in participants’ experiences across a larger sample from the corpus (Kim et al., 2023). However, for this study transcripts were analysed using IPA following the six-step process outlined by Smith et al. (2009). IPA was chosen as an appropriate methodology due to its focus in understanding the particular and unique details of individual experience and how these are made sense of by participants, allowing for more in-depth engagement with the experiences of a smaller demographically homogeneous subgroup (female CPs) with a focus on a particular phenomenon within the data (working with SVA cases; Braun & Clarke, 2021b). Steps 1 to 4 of Smith et al.’s (2009) guidelines were completed individually for each participant, and Steps 5 and 6 functioned to produce group-level findings grounded in the individual analysis of each participant. All analyses were led by the first author, who was not involved in any previous analysis of the dataset, with guidance from the third and fourth authors, who had been involved in previous analysis of the wider data corpus. This pairing of researchers, along with the new focus of the research question, allowed for analysis to be conducted with both fresh eyes (first author) and a new mindset (third and fourth authors).

Analyses were completed as follows:

1. Reading and re-reading. The first author read the transcripts accompanied by the audio recording (where available), with notes taken to reflect observations or impressions of the data. These notes were developed further as the transcript was re-read to increase familiarity and gain a broader understanding of the interview as a whole.

2. Initial noting. Exploratory notes were developed to highlight points of interest in the transcripts including descriptive codes (codes reflecting the semantic content of what the participant said), linguistic codes (focusing on the linguistic features used by the participant to add meaning) and conceptual codes (engaging with the participant’s data with an increased sense of interpretation).

3. Developing emerging themes. Initial notes were analysed to identify patterns or themes in the data. Emerging themes were labelled to reflect the central meaning or interpretation of participants’ accounts.

4. Searching for connections across emergent themes. Emerging themes were spatially rearranged to form clusters of superordinate (high-order) and subthemes (lower order) based on their shared meaning. Emergent themes were cross-checked with the data to ensure appropriate fit and were then named and defined.

5. Moving to the next case. Once Steps 1 to 4 had been completed for a participant, the researcher began the process again for the next participant, repeating until this process was completed for all six participants. At the end of this stage, a set of superordinate and subthemes had been produced for each participant.

6. Looking for patterns across cases. The final step involved looking for patterns across participants to produce a final set of superordinate and subthemes representative of all participants. Themes were analysed across participants to identify common patterns or connections. Themes that described similar experiences or meanings were clustered together and given an overarching name, forming the final set of superordinate and subthemes. Themes and subthemes were cross-referenced with the data to ensure these reflected participants’ experiences.

Throughout the analysis, regular team meetings were held to triangulate interpretations of the data and coherence of final themes. The first author also kept a reflective journal throughout the analytic process to reflect on the content and their interpretations of the data and their position within the research.

Results

Three superordinate themes were developed from the data: (a) Navigating the emotional and legal aspects of the CP role without a compass, (b) the impacts of working with PTM, and (c) factors influencing wellbeing and help seeking. Table 2 provides a summary of the themes, their related subthemes and supporting quotes, which are discussed in detail below.

Table 2.

Overview of themes and subthemes.

Theme	Subtheme
Navigating the emotional and legal aspects of the CP role without a compass	Meeting high expectations in a high-pressure work environment
	The complexities of emotion work in an unemotional context
	Personal responsibility to protect complainants from further trauma
	Lack of preparation for the CP role
The impacts of working with PTM	Exposure to trauma as an occupational hazard
	The added impacts of working with sexual trauma
Factors influencing wellbeing and help seeking	Influence of work culture on wellbeing and help seeking
	Occupational exposure to trauma separates CPs from the rest of the world
	Relying on self to maintain wellbeing

Note: CP = Crown prosecutor; PTM = potentially traumatic material.

Navigating the emotional and legal aspects of the CP role without a compass

This theme describes the internal and external pressures that female CPs experience from navigating the legal and emotional responsibilities of their role in the absence of adequate professional support. Four subthemes were developed: meeting high expectations in a high-pressure work environment, the complexities of emotion work in an unemotional context, feeling responsible for protecting complainants from further trauma, and lack of preparation for the CP role.

Meeting high expectations in a high-pressure work environment

Participants discussed navigating a range of internal and external pressures as a CP. Legal responsibilities (i.e. to the Crown, community, police and complainants) were often complex and competing, and participants described having to simultaneously balance and fulfil these, creating a high-pressure work environment:

I think I see the CP role as really trying to balance a lot of responsibilities. Both trying to obviously look at the CJS and the public interest and things like that, but also you have to factor in what the Police want. You know, you might have a Police officer who has investigated a particular case for several months or a year, and . . . you also have to factor in, I think, complainant expectations and family expectations depending on the type of crime it is. – Alex

Having to successfully prove charges beyond reasonable doubt, a responsibility unique to CPs, was perceived by Jessie to exacerbate pressures experienced in other areas of her role:

 . . . you sit in court and the judge directs the jury a hundred million times [that] ‘it is the Crown who have the responsibility to prove this charge and they must do it beyond reasonable doubt’ and then you have defence lawyers saying ‘it is the highest standard in the country! It is a hurdle, an Olympic sized hurdle!’ . . . . And you sit there and time and time again you hear ‘it’s the Crown, it’s the Crown’ and you have this added pressure. – Jessie

Due to representing the Crown in criminal hearings, most participants perceived CPs to be held to higher standards than other legal professionals, creating an expectation for them to be perfect and infallible. Some participants discussed experiencing intense pressure to meet the level of expected perfectionism as well as the legal responsibilities of a CP:

I don’t enjoy the pressure to be perfect all the time. That is hard to live with. You get it from your firm – your partners, your senior partners definitely expect you to never make any mistakes. The same with the judges, you can never make a mistake, it’s not forgiven. And then if you do make a mistake . . . it’s not a matter of, they’re privately disappointed in you, they will publicly call you out on it. . . . – Mackenzie

Participants also reported an acute awareness of the power their role had for people’s liberties. Respecting this position of power and presenting available evidence fairly and impartially were viewed as central to working as a CP and essential for maintaining the integrity and trust afforded to CPs by the wider CJS:

I think especially as a prosecutor, because we do have a lot of power to task Police to . . . disclose things. I mean, that’s governed by rules, but we do have a lot of say in terms where the direction that things go. And I find that judges do trust what we say. So, you do have a lot of influence on someone’s liberty. And so I think you have to use that power fairly, and you can’t go into a day saying, ‘I don’t really care about this’. – Riley

In addition to professional pressures, participants also described their work as high volume in nature. Many described difficulties with balancing Crown and non-Crown workloads while also maintaining expected levels of perfectionism. Alex openly criticised the pressure caused by these high expectations, particularly for junior prosecutors:

That doesn’t sit well with me, and that’s essentially what lots of the stressors arise from for young lawyers, I think. Manage these thirty things because there’s not enough – not another body to manage half of them, you know? I mean a law firm is a business, they would say, so they’ve made a decision about how many staff we need. I do think the idea that you get people to work efficiently by putting pressure on them is flawed but that’s how it operates. – Alex

Trials were identified as being particularly stressful and significantly contributing to an increase in occupational pressure. The long hours, resulting mental and emotional exhaustion, and the lack of routine breaks between trials (i.e. working back-to-back trials) contributed to increased feelings of pressure and stress, a continuous catch-up cycle of work, and reduced opportunity for recovery:

The hours can be pretty long and it’s sometimes up and down. Like in trial you can have some really long hours. It’s not something I particularly mind but it can get really tough. I think at the end of last year I was in a month long trial and having to deal with emails and everything else that’s happening on top of that can be really quite tough at times. For the most part I love it, but it can be quite hard to deal with. – Casey

The high-pressure, high-workload nature of the CP role also appeared to have negative effects on participants’ personal relationships, either leaving them with no time for relationships and spending ‘years of my life just completely working’ or limiting their capacity to invest in and maintain relationships. Most participants described feeling emotionally and physically unavailable due to the stress and pressure of their work, leading to neglect of relationships and an increased need for space to restore the capacity required to perform their role:

There’s still days when it has that effect and I’m not in trial, you know, I spend the day in a gross sex case and I just, need space that evening. There’s lots of days when I come home from work and my brain is so exhausted from the fast pace of it, from the chopping and changing that I’ll just need half an hour to be me by myself. – Alex

The high-pressure, high-volume environment that female CPs work within presents with a range of occupational stressors that puts a strain on both wellbeing and resilience. The complex and challenging nature of these stressors also limits their opportunities for recovery and engagement with social support that is important for maintaining wellbeing.

The complexities of emotion work in an unemotional context

Despite the emotionally detached nature of criminal law, participants spoke of the inherent emotionality associated with working with traumatised complainants. Participants discussed engaging in emotion work on a daily basis, in terms of managing their own emotions as well as the heightened emotions of others (e.g. witnesses and complainants). Participants described experiencing tension between their personal emotions and professional expectations, which resulted in the need to engage in emotional labour (e.g. holding back emotion to present a detached ‘professional’ persona):

It’s more that you’re not permitted to have emotions. So even if you feel like something terrible is happening, you can’t cry or show any emotion, including frustration. . . . – Mackenzie

While professional expectations dictate emotional detachment, most participants believed that showing empathy and understanding to complainants was central to being a good CP. Empathy was considered key for showing care and compassion towards complainants, acknowledging their traumatic experiences, and appearing relatable to juries:

I personally think that you need to have a bit of emotion when you’re doing this kind of work. You can’t not care. And so, I would say that prosecutors do need to show a bit of emotion. It’s nice for, I think, complainants to know that you actually care about their case. – Riley

While empathic displays were considered important, CPs noted emotional boundaries needed to be carefully managed, as their role prevents them from acting as support persons to complainants and witnesses. A range of approaches were used to navigate these emotional boundaries (e.g. clear communication, managing expectations, signposting and encouraging the use of specialist support services). Nonetheless, the task of managing professional boundaries was considered difficult, requiring constant evaluation and reflection.

Several participants noted that SVA cases were ‘emotionally complex’, due to the heightened emotion and trauma experienced by complainants. For Casey, the heightened emotions in SVA cases were particularly emotionally challenging, due to the heightened vulnerability and support requirements of complainants and their families, the increased contact required in preparing for the case and, as a result, the increased exposure to trauma and emotion of others:

We still have to meet the complainants and the family. And it’s just an awful amount of child complainants. So you’re meeting the family, the really worried family, and you can’t really explain to the family what’s going on. So, all of that, even if it doesn’t go to trial, the preparation process is quite emotionally draining I think. – Casey

In contrast, Devon noted how working as an Assistant Crown Counsel in the appeal courts required a lower level of emotion work than that of CPs as her role involves less interpersonal involvement with complainants and witnesses, highlighting the increased emotional labour involved in direct client work:

It’s slightly different in our role in the sense that we do appellate work. So, we don’t have those kinds of on-the-ground conversations with people who have experienced trauma. . . . – Devon

Personal responsibility to protect complainants from further trauma

Participants described that the close interpersonal engagement they have with complainants creates a sense of emotional and personal responsibility (with the exception of Devon, who did not have direct interpersonal involvement with complainants and witnesses in her appellate role) to protect them from further trauma. This responsibility appeared to reflect an underlying desire to provide compassionate care and to reduce revictimisation of complainants throughout the criminal process:

And for me, probably, I suppose it’s as soon as I meet someone who has experienced something traumatic and then knowing that I have to then force them to go through a trial which is even more traumatic, I can, yeah, I definitely feel that. – Riley

Some participants reported feeling an additional responsibility to make the CJS experience as meaningful as possible for complainants. For Jessie, this involved weighing up the harms and benefits that going to trial may have for the complainant, particularly in SVA cases:

. . . you start to think about whether it’s beneficial either in the public interest or perhaps in that particular complainant’s situation – whether it’s . . . I don’t want to say ‘worth’ going to trial, but whether it might cause them more harm than good if we were to continue down the path and things like that. – Jessie

More generally, participants felt a sense of responsibility to deliver justice for complainants by achieving a conviction. However, while Mackenzie perceived achieving a guilty verdict as the least harmful outcome for clients, this was tempered by the added pressure experienced due to the lack of control she has over the final outcome:

I enjoy when I’m able to feel like I’ve given a complainant and their family the best opportunity to move through the system in the least harmful way. So, for example I had trial verdicts come in late yesterday and they were all guilty and it was a great relief for me . . . [however] . . . the more you empathise with and the more you get to know your victims, the more pressure there is, the more pressure you actual feel to want to get a result for them. And that’s a dangerous path to go down [because] ultimately you can’t control what the outcome will be. – Mackenzie

‘Unsuccessful outcomes’ (i.e. not-guilty verdicts) were often internalised as personal failures by participants. Several participants noted that the emotional burden associated with not-guilty verdicts was most significant in SVA cases due to the low chance of conviction. Due to the low odds of conviction, participants reported feeling immense responsibility and pressure in these cases:

. . . the majority of sex cases that go to trial generally end up in an acquittal. So even with that in mind, even going and thinking you know that if it’s just a ‘he said she said’ case, there’s no other evidence and there doesn’t have to be, and there’s no other evidence, it’s going to be difficult for a jury to support, to believe a complainant’s word that it happened. And it’s one of the hardest things I grapple with. I get so frustrated with the jury system. I don’t think we should have jury trials for sex cases. . . . That’s really tough. – Jessie

For most participants, persistent not-guilty verdicts led to them questioning their contribution to the case outcome and, in SVA cases, the benefit of putting complainants through a difficult and re-traumatising trial:

 . . . I just think at the end of the day, what the hell was the point of that? Like why did we go to trial when we knew the odds were against us on that? We’ve revictimized her or him, her mainly. And for what? . . . What benefit did that have to anybody? . . . it’s defeating I think . . . and results that end up with people who sexually violated someone walking away. I don’t know. I get pretty down about it. . . . – Jessie

The tension experienced by participants between their own morals and values and external influences on outcomes in SVA cases appeared to create a sense of cognitive dissonance for participants, and further exacerbated the occupational stressors associated with working as a CP in the New Zealand CJS.

Lack of preparation for the CP role

Participants discussed a lack of professional training, preparation and support to effectively carry out both the legal and emotional responsibilities expected of a CP. While participants believed they had received adequate legal education, practical preparation to deal with the emotional stressors of the role (e.g. interpersonal skills, working with traumatised people and emotional resilience) was perceived to be lacking. Given the high stakes involved in prosecuting for the Crown, participants discussed feeling shocked when their expectations of preparation and training were not met and that they often felt out of their depth early in their careers, particularly when it came to managing heightened states of emotion:

So the first two years certainly were incredibly hard because you’re feeling all of this pressure and you know the stakes are so high but you don’t have, you’re kind of just, fighting to keep your head above water really [laughs]. – Casey

In the absence of professional support, several participants discussed learning to cope independently through a process of trial-and-error and surviving tough experiences. While most participants developed healthy coping mechanisms over time, the ‘learning on your own’ process often resulted in the adoption of ineffective coping strategies early on, such as regular alcohol consumption. Participants expressed a need for further training and support for CPs to help them better prepare for dealing with the human aspects of the role and the personal impacts this can have. Some participants suggested that professional bodies needed to take a more active role in training and support:

I think Crown Law should probably take a bit more running there and offer a bit of support across the whole network because it’s definitely a firm by firm thing, whereas a lot of the issues are probably the same. – Casey

Prosecution of SVA cases was reported to begin upon reaching intermediate level; however, senior CPs reported a considerably higher concentration of SVA cases, to the point where it became the main focus of their work. Several participants discussed how they felt unprepared for this transition, and did not receive specific training or preparation for this increased focus on SVA:

I felt like I had no training or build up to that. Because beforehand, I’d certainly done trials and I’d done, I’ve been in, I’m not a junior prosecutor, but to suddenly, you know I’d only done a couple of sex cases before. And then it was like back to back to back to back, and I was just like oh man, this is pretty, from what I’ve heard that’s pretty common. – Jessie

Despite trauma-related emotions being experienced as particularly difficult to work with, due to the care and skill required to navigate these, participants noted a lack of training on how to manage the emotions of others. Participants reported feeling left alone to navigate the emotion-focused aspects of their role without adequate knowledge of how to do so effectively.

The impacts of working with PTM

Exposure to PTM is a fundamental part of the CP role but it also creates an occupational hazard for the development of adverse psychological effects. This theme describes the impacts of working with PTM through two subthemes: exposure to trauma as an occupational hazard, and the added impacts of working with sexual trauma.

Exposure to trauma as an occupational hazard

Participants discussed how they experienced prolonged and persistent exposure to PTM in a variety of ways including written (i.e. summary of facts, victim impact statements), recorded (i.e. audio interviews, video footage of offending) and visual material (i.e. injury photos, crime scene photos). Audio and visual material, directly hearing evidence from the victim or witness in court, and interactions with families of victims were described as particularly traumatic, often resulting in experiences of emotional transference:

And even when I’m looking at injury photos, I don’t really, at the time I don’t feel like I’m being impacted by it but when I have to watch an interview or when I see the person talk about the experience, that’s pretty difficult to kind of sit back and just watch happen. – Jessie

Adverse psychological effects from working with PTM were commonly reported. Several participants described experiencing VT symptoms such as desensitisation, intrusive thoughts, rumination and triggering memories, which affected their daily functioning:

I don’t see how you could engage with this material the way that we do and not experience a degree of trauma. Certainly, I know that I have trouble sleeping and find myself really preoccupied with things that I’ve read and heard about and they would recur at all kinds of times when you’d just be trying to engage in normal family or social life. – Riley

Several participants described having developed a more cynical view of the world and others through being exposed to a reality they had been previously unaware of before becoming a CP. This cynicism impacted affected participants’ trust in others and sense of normality:

I don’t enjoy the nature of having to know a lot of what we deal with. So there’s a lot of stuff I just wish I didn’t know [laughs] about what goes on in the world and I don’t enjoy that I feel like it’s changed the way that I view people as a whole and just life in general. – Casey

Other participants noted that their knowledge of crime occurring in their local area tainted how they view their neighbourhood and some described a newfound sense of paranoia and anxiety for their safety, or experiencing triggering memories of cases based on places in their local community:

 . . . I can’t walk out of the office and leave what I know. And it’s like there’s an extra layer on top of the city that I’m like, that is where that happened, that is where that happened. – Alex

In contrast to these accounts, Devon viewed her increased awareness of crime as useful, with this knowledge functioning as a measure of self-protection that made her more wary and alert to reality:

I think just kind of being exposed to the kind of grim side of life that you probably wouldn’t have if you didn’t work in these kinds of jobs. Yeah, I’m not sure if that’s a negative thing or not necessarily, you know. It’s probably good to be kind of aware of what’s actually going on in the country. – Devon

While there were some differences in experiences between participants in the way they viewed their exposure to PTM, all participants acknowledged experiencing adverse impacts as a result of their occupational exposure to this material, highlighting PTM as an inherent occupational hazard of working in the CJS.

The added impacts of working with sexual trauma

Working with SVA cases and material of a sexually traumatic nature appeared to exacerbate pre-existing difficulties with working with PTM. Participants were unable to explicitly articulate what made SVA material uniquely difficult but described it as ‘having a unique edge’. There was a shared understanding amongst all but one participant that SVA material was the most difficult to work with both professionally and personally, and elicited the strongest emotional responses due to the nature of the offending and the content of evidence:

I guess that’s the content of the police files that we receive and the evidence we hear and see in court. . . . Especially in the sexual space because it gets really disgusting you know? You’re hearing details of things that you don’t want to think about. So, it is difficult. – Mackenzie

Alex discussed how working with SVA material impacts her professional productivity due to the psychological impacts of the work, and the need to prepare herself mentally prior to working with SVA cases:

I mean earlier this week I was working on submissions for a sexual case and found myself procrastinating on them. I found myself not really wanting to go through the video transcript because I know those cases get under my skin. – Alex

In contrast, Casey described a ‘love–hate relationship’ with SVA cases, perceiving SVA work as rewarding due to its capacity to support the empowerment of those willing to report assaults despite a high likelihood of acquittal, while also being uniquely unpleasant relative to other forms of offending:

. . . they can be really, really rewarding trials and it can be really rewarding work and you often meet some amazing, brave, powerful people who are coming forward. Though I really enjoy some aspects of it, other times it can be horrendous because obviously, I mean the nature of what you deal with it’s just about always horrendous. – Casey

All participants worked with a high volume of SVA cases, with some spending as much as 75–100% of their time on this case type. The high volume of SVA cases was attributed to the disproportionate allocation of these cases among intermediate and senior CPs, given their complexity and therefore the legal experience and skill they required. However, working large numbers of SVA cases and working these ‘back-to-back’ were viewed as having a negative impact on the women’s wellbeing:

. . . once you get to a certain level, and it’s normally three to four years in, because rape trials just about inevitably go to trial because the consequences are so high and often it’s just a he said, she said, or he said, he said, then there’s just so many of those trials going and obviously you can’t really throw juniors in there. So by virtue of that I think people at my level end up doing sex trials week in, week out, which can be really rewarding and interesting work, but I think on a personal level can be really tough. – Casey

However, Mackenzie reported experiencing a disproportionate allocation of SVA cases based on gender, with female CPs more likely to be allocated SVA cases and male CPs allocated to physical violence cases. This appeared to be due to a belief in her firm that females are better equipped to deal with SVA complainants:

. . . [firm partners] have a really strong conviction that female prosecutors are better for doing the sex work because we’ll be able to have a better rapport with the complainants. I don’t personally subscribe to that opinion. But that’s very much their thinking. . . . the violence goes to the boys and the sex goes to the girls, which is horrendous. – Mackenzie

The disproportionate allocation and high volume of SVA cases that senior and female CPs experience inevitably increases the frequency and level of exposure to sexual material. This was considered to compound the psychological effects experienced as a result of this exposure.

In addition to the general effects of working with PTM, Devon and Alex noted that they are unable to be physically intimate with their partners when prosecuting SVA cases, due to their immersion in graphic case material and an inability to cognitively disengage from this:

I guess, like, if you’re reading cases all day and facts all day and victim impact statements all day about, you know, like women being sexually violated and raped and all that kind of stuff, that definitely kind of, has some impact to like my intimate relationship with my partner, I guess. – Devon

Devon and Alex’s experiences were not isolated. Alex also spoke of a female colleague who experienced similar intimacy difficulties when prosecuting SVA cases, suggesting such effects may be more widely experienced among female CPs who work with sexual trauma.

Factors influencing wellbeing and help seeking

Participants identified personal and professional factors that influenced their overall wellbeing as a CP and willingness to seek support for adverse professional experiences. Three subthemes were developed: influence of work culture on wellbeing and help seeking, occupational exposure separates Crown prosecutors from the rest of the world, and self-reliance for maintain wellbeing.

Influence of work culture on wellbeing and help seeking

Work culture was reported to have a significant influence on participants’ wellbeing and willingness to seek support in the workplace. Dismissive attitudes of senior partners regarding the personal impacts of working in the criminal law were seen to negatively impact workplace culture and support for wellbeing. Jessie perceived this to reflect the pervasive belief that people working in the legal field need to ‘harden up’. Such attitudes meant participants were disinclined to engage with professional support in the workplace for fear of hindering their career progression through signalling ‘weakness’:

There is very much an expectation that you’ll just get on with it and you can’t be weak or fallible really. So you wouldn’t, I don’t think that you would advance professionally in the firm if you were to admit to being damaged. – Mackenzie

Some participants discussed how the traditional ‘harden up’ culture led to a lack of dialogue between colleagues about their experiences, with displays of vulnerability often subject to ridicule and help-seeking perceived as taboo. This left participants feeling alienated and alone in their experiences and either choosing to seek support privately or masking their struggles, so they were continued to be perceived as capable and strong enough to handle difficult cases:

But I think that’s one of the challenges I faced is that because there hasn’t been that culture of seeking help or talking about it if you have got help, I mean maybe that partner has but she didn’t want to say, I don’t know. Means that there’s less opportunity informal advice giving or strategy sharing. – Alex

Participants also described practical barriers to obtaining support services in their workplace. For example, Jessie and Casey noted how referrals to support services such as psychologists had to be made through their firm’s partners before they were able to access them, which would require them to disclose their struggles to their employers. This high level of gatekeeping meant that those in crisis may be less willing to use services due to the administrative burdens:

. . . they started offering clinical psychologists that you can go to, but it’s been described as the last cab in the rank kind of service. So if you’ve gone and tried EAP and that didn’t work and you’re so distressed in your job and, you know things are not getting better, maybe we’ll refer you to these [Service X] but you kind of have to tell us that things are really really bad which I think is the wrong approach because just the nature of the work we do day in day out, we should be front footing these issues. – Jessie

Alex also noted the lack of proactive efforts from management in addressing wellbeing concerns, citing the generational tension of older partners not understanding the need for adequate wellbeing policies:

. . . it took about a year from the time I provided the feedback that I thought there needed to be more, for them to develop a new well-being policy, which is very slow change but I think it comes back to the tension, the generational tension that some of the younger partners are more open to it and some of the older partners can’t see why we’re not tough enough. – Alex

In addition to workplace attitudes towards wellbeing and help seeking, participants discussed a broader professional expectation to put the job first and sacrifice themselves for the role, with this seen as necessary to complete high-volume workloads and meet time pressures. For some participants, the responsibility they felt to complainants created feelings of ‘you can’t afford to be worried about yourself when you’ve got all these other people to worry about’.

In contrast, Casey reported her work culture as predominantly positive and identified feeling sufficiently supported in her role both personally and professionally. Casey noted that her work culture was open and encouraging towards help seeking and experienced no barriers to accessing workplace supports, like those experienced by other participants. She also noted that employees at her firm are entitled to unlimited counselling sessions with costs covered by the firm:

It’s signposted around work. . . . It’s one of those things that if you want it, it’s there. They’re free. So that’s quite nice. Yeah, no there’s not a limit, but our firm basically picks up the cost . . . we’re all pretty open with each other. One of my workmates has a really serious mental health issue that she’s been super open with a few of us about which is awesome, and we all look out for each other in that sense. – Casey

Casey’s experience highlights that a positive, open and supportive work culture can be beneficial for employees’ wellbeing, and contrasts the negative impacts experienced by the other participants, further emphasising its necessity.

Occupational exposure to trauma separates Crown prosecutors from the rest of the world

Participants described how exposure to PTM acted as a barrier to seeking support from people outside of the legal profession. Participants described how people who didn’t have experience of working in the CJS (e.g. friends, family, professionals) lacked a shared understanding of crime and trauma. This perceived lack of shared understanding, coupled with previous negative experiences of generic support services, often left participants feeling apprehensive about seeking external support from those without similar experiences:

I’ve used EAP in the past before, and I didn’t really rate their services, like a really crappy counsellor so I didn’t want to go back. – Jessie

In addition, the perceived inevitability of trauma exposure further reduced participants’ inclination to seek professional support due to a belief that ‘I don’t think there is anything that that could be done to stop it from damaging you’.

. . . it hasn’t occurred to me to suggest [to colleagues that] they speak to a professional because they’re all intelligent people and they know as well as I do that material of that nature is just inevitable in the job. We can’t avoid it. . . . – Mackenzie

Friends and family were often viewed as lacking understanding of the material CPs work with or feeling uncomfortable with the subject matter. At the same time, participants also discussed feeling a need to sacrifice emotional support from friends and family to ‘protect’ them from the trauma of the role:

I hope my mum goes to her grave not knowing all the things that I know about human nature. Or what people do to each other. Or I don’t want to tell my husband the gory details of sexual behaviour. – Alex

Feelings of isolation and separation from friends and family inevitably resulted in a narrow support system and reliance on colleagues for support due to their shared professional experience. Consequently, collegial support often became the main, and sometimes only, source of support for participants. However, collegial support was often approached with caution due to the negative attitudes towards wellbeing discussed earlier.

Relying on self to maintain wellbeing

In the absence of professional and personal support, participants reported a range of strategies they used to independently maintain their wellbeing, with the most common being engaging in physical activity, prioritising personal relationships, maintaining a healthy work life balance, ensuring a good diet and sleep, and engaging in activities unrelated to work. Some women also reported that maintaining work boundaries and avoiding professional work at home was necessary to protect their wellbeing:

Ideally, I wouldn’t kind of work in my bedroom but sometimes have to because of COVID. But maintaining good work boundaries so like leaving all that kind of traumatic stuff in the office. I mean, again, where I can. – Casey

Alex took a distinct approach, by engaging in an internal process of normalisation and acceptance about the impacts of her role on her wellbeing, which allowed her to engage in a process of learning how to cope with occupational stressors:

I’ve basically realised that my job is going to impact my life, I can’t pretend it’s not going to, I can’t make hard rules that are going to deny the fact that my job is going to affect me and my life. And it’s more about learning how to be in those tensions and some specific kind of coping or response plans. . . . – Alex

Dark humour was a commonly reported coping strategy for deflecting from work-related difficulties. The appropriateness of dark humour was understood to be limited to the work context and limited in its efficacy:

Look, honestly in every Crown prosecution firm I’ve worked with there’s a bit of dark humour that goes with the job, which probably sounds quite bad, but I think it’s actually a bit of a coping mechanism that everybody uses, and it shouldn’t be really, people are downplaying what they do but sometimes it’s just to deal with it emotionally. – Casey

The fulfilment participants received from using their skills in the pursuit of justice contributed to a sense of meaning, identity and pride, which was seen as protective against some of the difficult aspects of their role:

It’s something I’m really proud of. Like I say, it does become a bit of who you are, and I think I get a lot out of it because I find it really rewarding and I think it actually made me probably more confident as a person as well, just the nature of what we deal with. – Devon

However, not all participants expressed this kind of meaningful relationship with their role, due to their perception of the CJS as ‘broken,’ ‘unmeaningful’ or ‘unfit for purpose’, leaving them questioning their contribution to preventing the cycle of crime:

So many of our defendants are repeat customers or customers from the same family. But I don’t think we, we don’t affect any chance for them either by sending them to prison. So, I’m not sure how meaningful it is. – Mackenzie

Discussion

This study qualitatively explored the experiences of female CPs working with SVA cases in the New Zealand CJS. Participants in the current study described a high-pressure, high-volume work environment, which required them to juggle multiple responsibilities with limited time for self-care or recovery. The expectations and pressures of working in the legal profession, including unsustainable workloads and work hours, and the impact these have on lawyer wellbeing and vulnerability to VT are well documented (Gomme & Hall, 1995; Iversen & Robertson, 2021; LeClerc et al., 2020), with some studies suggesting that these pressures are elevated within criminal law (Soon et al., 2024; Vrklevski & Franklin, 2008; Weir et al., 2021). Workload and responsibility pressures have also been identified as underpinning factors for occupational stress and VT in both lawyers and other human service professionals working with SVA (e.g. Parkes et al., 2019; Rostad & Langvik, 2025; Schauben & Frazier, 1995) and are suggested to increase professionals’ vulnerability to experiencing negative wellbeing when working with PTM (Crivatu et al., 2023; Parkes et al., 2019). While the volume and high-pressured nature of the role created a challenging environment for female CPs, unhealthy expectations of perfectionism within the profession and an unsupportive work environment appeared to compound these factors and deter help-seeking for fear of being viewed as ‘weak’ or ‘unable to cope’, consistent with the wider literature on justice professionals’ wellbeing (Ko & Memon, 2023; Weir et al., 2021). Workplaces that foster an open and supportive culture are suggested to both support employees’ wellbeing and facilitate help-seeking (Woodhams & Duran, 2024), whereas an absence of these factors can result in feelings of disempowerment and increased risk of burnout (Crivatu et al., 2023). Addressing profession and organisational attitudes towards working with PTM and wellbeing and improving workplace supports therefore has the potential to protect professionals working in the CJS and reduce the impacts of occupational stressors on wellbeing.

Frequent exposure to both potentially PTM and traumatised clients was described as an inevitable aspect of the work of female CPs. Adverse psychological impacts, including VT symptoms, were commonly reported and particularly pronounced when working with sexual trauma. Research indicates that SVA cases are particularly emotionally complex, both for lawyers (Gomme & Hall, 1995; Weir et al., 2021) and other helping professions (Johnson & Hunter, 1997) due to the arguably more severe and long-lasting trauma experienced by victims of SVA (Kessler et al., 2017; Weir et al., 2021). In the current study, the emotional and psychological impacts of working with SVA cases appeared to exacerbate the effects of other workload stressors and trauma exposure, a similar experience to that reported by UK police staff exposed to sexual offence material (Parkes et al., 2019). Recognising the added difficulties of working with SVA cases and addressing general as well as content-specific occupational stressors is an important starting point for effectively supporting staff working in environments with heightened exposure to SVA.

Participants increasingly worked SVA trials as their career progressed, heightening their exposure to the most difficult PTM. This increased exposure was sometimes exacerbated by gendered attitudes towards case allocation, reflecting a stereotype seen elsewhere in the literature that females are better suited to working with victims of SVA due to their perceived ability to relate to victims’ experiences (Simpson & Fothergill, 2004). Experiences of emotional transference from complainants coupled with working back-to-back SVA trials provided little time for participants to recover from the psychological impacts of these cases. Working with high caseloads of SVA and increased direct contact with traumatised clients have been found to be associated with elevated levels of VT and emotional and psychological distress (Crivatu et al., 2023). It is therefore critical that the negative impacts of working with SVA and acutely distressed clients are acknowledged at a profession and organisational level, and steps taken to assist practitioners working with these cases, including limits placed on back-to-back SVA trials.

Despite the challenges associated with working with sexual trauma, several participants felt pride in and experienced satisfaction from their role, a reported buffer against workplace stress (Ling et al., 2014; Na et al., 2018). However, female CPs also reported experiencing moral distress, due to the low conviction rates and the re-traumatisation of complainants through the justice process. Although recognised in the wider literature, legal professionals’ experiences of moral distress and moral injury (i.e. psychological unease or harm experienced from perpetrating or witnessing actions that violate a person’s core beliefs) have received less focus in the literature. Experiences of moral injury have been found to be associated with poorer wellbeing including higher levels of VT and burnout, and lower levels of compassion satisfaction (Morris et al., 2022). Recognising the morally challenging nature of working in the CJS, particularly in the area of SVA, and providing guidance and support for this may help to support wellbeing amongst criminal lawyers.

While participants perceived they had received adequate training on the legal requirements of their role, they felt underprepared for the interpersonal and emotional aspects and for the increased allocation of SVA cases as their career progressed. Legal scholars have increasingly observed how the theoretical focus of legal education means many lawyers are forced to learn necessary interpersonal and resilience skills independently, often through a process of trial-and-error (James, 2023). The lack of focus on ‘soft-skills’ in legal education likely reflects the expectation of emotional detachment (Harris, 2002; James, 2020; Weir et al., 2021); however, the deeply emotional nature of the subject matter and the heightened emotional state of people who interact with the CJS mean this is unrealistic (Leiterdorf-Shkedy & Gal, 2019). Receiving training in interpersonal and emotion skills and working appropriately with victims of SVA have been identified as protective factors for VT (Crivatu et al., 2023; Finklestein et al., 2015). Such training could potentially form part of ongoing professional development activities at either the organisational or profession level to both prepare and scaffold criminal lawyers through transition points in their careers.

Implications for policy and practice

Female CPs experience a range of occupational, gender and content-specific challenges when working with SVA cases in the New Zealand CJS. Given the importance of CPs in SVA proceedings for complainants and their families, ensuring CPs are appropriately prepared and supported to fulfil their role is of critical importance for the effective functioning of the CJS. Although it is not possible to conclude from the data that the experiences described are specific to female CPs, the intersectional nature of these factors on female CPs’ wellbeing likely requires a multi-faceted and gender-responsive approach to tackle factors that negatively impact wellbeing when working with SVA cases and to promote protective factors.

The inherently stressful and pressured nature of the CP role results in multiple opportunities for wellbeing to be eroded. A trauma-informed organisational approach to wellbeing can provide a safe and supportive environment for professionals to address the effects of working with PTM (James, 2020). Trauma-informed workplaces are characterised by an emotionally and physically safe environment that is responsive to cultural, historical and gender-specific experiences; normalises investment in lawyer wellbeing; promotes peer and supervisory support; and actively encourages help-seeking (James, 2020; Woodhams & Duran, 2024). Notably, one participant in the present study described a workplace environment that did appear to employ some trauma-focused supports (such as access to fully funded mental health support and an open, non-judgmental work culture) and was positive about the capacity of that environment to support her in her work. This suggests that trauma-oriented workplaces are achievable in the New Zealand CJS and can be an effective tool for protecting against VT symptoms.

Training on interpersonal skills, emotional literacy and working effectively with complaints of SVA can help support female CPs to work with SVA cases, help the experience of complainants in these cases, and protect against negative wellbeing impacts (Crivatu et al., 2023). Provision of appropriate skills-based training is especially important given the requirements under the Solicitor-General’s Guidelines for Prosecuting Sexual Violence (2019) on how legal professionals attend to the needs of those in the care of the CJS, and the known psychological and emotional impacts associated with working with SVA and traumatised clients (Creamer et al., 2001; Kessler et al., 1995) and the increased risks associated with working with a high volume of traumatised clients (Schauben & Frazier, 1995). Such training could form part of both foundational and advanced legal education, with skills reinforced and maintained through organisational and Law Society initiatives. Further, ensuring female CPs are appropriately supported in both their transition and continued work with SVA cases is critical for ensuring the wellbeing of this professional group and for the effective functioning of the CJS. Acknowledging the added impacts of working with SVA cases and providing time and space to support lawyers working with such cases is a crucial first step. However, practices such as legal clinical supervision also show promise (Mason, 2024).

It is important to recognise that improved skills training and trauma-informed working environments will necessarily involve both profession and organisational cultural shifts. Participants in this study spoke about how the perception of lawyers as tough, unemotional, rational actors is a belief in legal culture. Large-scale culture shifts are difficult to initiate, although more open acknowledgement and communication of the emotional demands of working in the criminal law in both legal and continued professional education may be a good starting point. While best practice guidelines promoting psychologically safe and healthy workplaces have been developed in recent years in several jurisdictions, the findings of the current study suggest that a more nuanced approach is likely needed to adequately reflect individual, contextual and content-specific factors that influence lawyer wellbeing (Collier, 2025).

Limitations

This study represents the first attempt to study the experiences of female CPs working with sexually violent material in the New Zealand CJS. The detailed analysis of participant experiences enhances previous research by allowing for consideration of the intersectionality of content-specific, personal and organisational factors in shaping the wellbeing experiences of female CPs working with SVA cases. One limitation of the present study concerns the secondary analysis of an existing data corpus, which limited specific probing of experiences working with sexual trauma and gender-specific issues beyond the original interviews. This does not mean that the perspectives offered are not valid – indeed, the fact that participants volunteered information about their experiences of working with sexually violent material without being prompted arguably demonstrates how salient the topic is for the women in the study sample. A second potential limitation is the sole focus on the experiences of female CPs of prosecuting SVA cases, given that male CPs and defence counsel also engage in this work. It is therefore unclear whether the issues identified are equally experienced by male CPs or criminal lawyers working with SVA cases or not. Further, all participants had less than 7 years’ experience of working in the criminal justice system. Future research would benefit from conducting comparative research that specifically examines the nature of working with sexual trauma across both male and female criminal lawyers and across different experience levels to more fully explore some of the issues highlighted in the current study.

Conclusions

The findings of the study highlight the intersectional nature of lawyer wellbeing and the specific disciplinary, individual and content-specific factors that play a role in female CPs’ experiences of prosecuting SVA cases. While female CPs are deeply passionate about the role they play in supporting complainants of SVA through the criminal justice process, they also feel under-prepared and under-supported to manage the interpersonal, psychological and emotional impacts of this work. While this study takes a first step towards understanding some of the individual, contextual and content-specific factors that influence female CPs’ experiences of working with SVA cases, future research would benefit from taking a more nuanced approach to understanding the interaction between individual, contextual and content-specific factors on criminal lawyers’ wellbeing (Collier, 2025). A better understanding of the intersectional nature of lawyer wellbeing will enable the development of tailored policy and practices that can better support legal practitioners working with PTM, the people they work with, and the effective functioning of the CJS.

Funding Statement

This work was partially supported by awards from the Te Herenga Waka Victoria University of Wellington Faculty of Law and Faculty of Science Strategic Research Fund, awarded to Nichola Tyler and Yvette M. Tinsley.

Ethical standards

Declaration of conflicts of interest

Taine Te Miha has declared no conflicts of interest.

Harry J. Dent has declared no conflicts of interest.

Yvette M. Tinsley has declared no conflicts of interest.

Nichola Tyler has declared no conflicts of interest.

Ethical approval

All procedures performed in studies involving human participants were in accordance with the ethical standards of the institutional and/or national research committee, Te Herenga Waka Victoria University of Wellington Human Ethics Committee (Ref: 29781, Ref: 2805) and with the 1964 Declaration of Helsinki and its later amendments or comparable ethical standards.

Informed consent

Informed consent was obtained from all individual participants included in the study.