When Coverage Is Scarce: Centering Prevention, Intervention, and Treatment

By Aniss Benelmouffok, Director, Public Affairs ATSA

On August 6, the New York Times published investigative journalist Emily Steel’s thorough report on Uber’s reluctance to implement prevention measures to reduce sexual harm. Her reporting revealed that, from 2017 to 2022, Uber received more than 400,000 reports of sexual assault or sexual misconduct—an average of one every eight minutes—yet publicly disclosed only 12,522. According to sealed court records, the company had identified clear prevention measures but set them aside "as it prioritized growing its user base, avoiding costly lawsuits and protecting its business model."

As advocates and professionals working to expand and improve treatment for individuals at risk of, or who have caused, sexual harm, we’ve watched prevention and intervention opportunities fade from public discourse. Ordinarily, the Uber investigation would lead front pages and dominate social feeds, prompting questions about how to prevent sexual harm. Instead, within 24 hours, it was buried in the business section and pushed to the bottom of news aggregators as coverage of President Trump eclipsed it.

President Trump has a gravitational pull on the news cycle. He is undeniably a "newsmaker"—a status he wields with outsized impact. As media analyst Kara Swisher describes, he creates “snackable moments”: brief bursts of controversy that capture attention completely, then disappear as the next moment arrives. 

Steel’s investigation documented corporate awareness and acknowledgment of preventable sexual assaults. Internal Uber safety studies identified specific measures that could have protected passengers, but executives repeatedly chose market expansion over safety implementation.

Yet despite the explosive nature of these findings, media coverage has been limited. In today’s attention economy, scarcity isn’t accidental—it’s by design. Algorithms and ad-driven incentives reward novelty and outrage. Research from Harvard’s Shorenstein Center found that during Trump’s first presidency he received 41% of all news coverage, compared with roughly 13% for previous presidents—a threefold increase that crowds out other stories. More critically, the Pew Research Center found that 74% of Trump coverage focused on character and controversies rather than policy substance, leaving only narrow windows for complex prevention initiatives to receive attention.

Nonprofits and advocates have long used grassroots campaigns and coalition building to meet the moment. Yet, when moments are scarce, new strategies must emerge. Advocates can adapt by building direct relationships with communities affected by sexual harm. Rather than competing for mainstream attention, we can develop our own channels—through community partnerships, digital storytelling, and targeted campaigns that reach decision‑makers directly.

As nonprofits and advocates, our capacity is finite, and we must invest it intentionally. Breaking through the noise is increasingly difficult. Our aim should be to develop sustainable pathways for prevention, intervention, and treatment—rather than chasing the moment.

When Emotional Maturity Feels Revolutionary: What Travis Kelce, Taylor Swift, and the Swiftie Reaction Reveal About Masculinity, Conditioning, and Prevention

By Amber Schroeder, Executive Director, ATSA
Nearly two years after they went public with their relationship, the internet is still buzzing about Travis Kelce—and not just because he’s a football star. People are talking about how he treats Taylor Swift. Proudly. Openly. Without a hint of ego or insecurity.

He cheers for her, celebrates her wins, and seems genuinely unbothered that she’s more famous, more powerful, and more influential than he is.

And the response? Swifties and women across social media are asking:

“How did his parents raise him to be this emotionally intelligent?”
“Where did this man come from?”
“How do we clone him?”

It’s all said with a mix of awe and longing—as if the idea of a man who’s secure, emotionally available, and unthreatened by a powerful woman is something rare and borderline mythical.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth: We are so surprised by emotionally mature men that we feel the need to study them.

Why This Resonates

Despite all the progress we’ve made, toxic masculinity remains the norm. Many men are still raised with messages that equate masculinity with dominance, emotional detachment, and control. Emotional intelligence? Vulnerability? Those are still seen as weaknesses.

But this conditioning doesn’t just hurt men. It shapes everyone.

Ask a woman how many times she’s had to soften, reframe, or completely concede her idea to a man just so it would be heard—and many women will have examples on standby. They won’t even have to think hard. Women, too, have been conditioned: to shrink, to support, to expect very little in return.
So when someone like Kelce shows up in a way that centers partnership, respect, and mutual success—it feels revolutionary, even though it shouldn’t be.

Culture Shapes Behavior

At ATSA, we understand that no one causes harm in a vacuum. The beliefs that underlie sexually harmful behavior—entitlement, control, emotional detachment—are not innate. They’re learned. Reinforced. Rewarded.

In treatment, we see how hard it can be for people—especially men—to unlearn those patterns. But we also see what happens when they do: accountability becomes possible. Empathy starts to grow. Change takes root.

That change can’t happen at scale unless the culture also shifts. That’s why these public moments—where a man visibly supports a woman’s power without needing to dim it—are more than feel-good headlines. They’re cultural prevention tools.

The NFL’s Complicated Legacy

That this moment is contextualized by the NFL adds another layer of meaning. Professional football has long been associated with aspects of toxic masculinity—rigid, harmful norms about manhood: the belief that dominance, control, and emotional shutdown signal strength—which makes these conversations especially relevant.

In recent years, the NFL has leaned into prevention partnerships—most prominently with RALIANCE, a national collaborative working to end sexual harassment, misconduct, and abuse. The league helped launch RALIANCE and has since renewed a multi-year grant partnership to expand prevention, education, and policy work across communities.

Real cultural change starts long before the pros. And when a high-profile player like Kelce breaks from the old mold, it signals a broader shift in how men show up in public life—not just in treatment sessions, but on global stages.

Taking It Forward

This public reaction tells us that people are hungry for a new model of masculinity. The kind that doesn’t diminish others to feel powerful. The kind that celebrates mutual respect. The kind that makes “being a good partner” the baseline—not the bonus.
So how do we move forward?

In Prevention:
We have to teach kids—boys and girls—what healthy masculinity, respect, emotional intelligence, and partnership actually look like. This starts early, at home, in schools, in sports, and in the media they consume. We can’t rely on them to unlearn toxic norms later—we need to help them build better ones from the start. And we must continue spotlighting public models that show those values in action. These aren’t “soft” skills—they are prevention tools, and they are essential.

In Treatment:
We must continue supporting clients in unlearning toxic behaviors and frameworks and building emotionally mature, accountable identities. Transformation is possible when we allow space for vulnerability and challenge entitlement at the root.

In Culture:
We must understand that rigid gender expectations harm people of all genders. Our aim should not be to hold people to impossible standards, but to refuse to celebrate the bare minimum. Respect isn’t rare. It’s what should have always been there.

When millions dissect how a man respects his partner, it highlights how far norms still have to go—and how much possibility is on the table. At ATSA, we’re committed to that possibility.