Do You Care About This Kind of "Victim"?

Do You Care About This Kind of "Victim"?

Last edited: 2026-07-27

Kao Jung-chih / Executive Director, Judicial Reform Foundation

Media scholar Kuan Chung-hsin points out that "presenting both sides" is a reporting method commonly used by the media, especially in controversial events. On the one hand, presenting pros and cons side by side, with contrasts and comparisons, helps cultivate the media's image of "objectivity." On the other hand, driven by work demands and the "convenience" of news operations, making news this way is easier.

Presenting both sides is understandable and aligns with our intuition. In fact, this is simply "binary division." Philosophers tell us that our initial understanding of this world relies precisely on this "binary opposition" approach to classification—good/evil, right/wrong, beautiful/ugly, and so on—making things easy to understand, much like a simple cartoon. Yet, the true profundity of life is much more like a complex film. Kuan Chung-hsin reminds us that news events often involve diverse "historical causes" and even "structural factors" that remain hidden from view. Taking media reports at face value easily leads us to overlook other potential perspectives.

The Judiciary Becomes the "Perpetrator"

He gave an example: Su Chien-ho and two others. Whenever the news interviewed the three men, they would simultaneously interview the family of the victims, Mr. and Mrs. Wu Ming-han. This seemingly objective "balanced reporting" was actually "subjective" because it presupposed that one side was the perpetrator and the other the victim. Being subjective is not wrong, but we should not ignore other (equally subjective) ways of classification.

He pointed out that if the three men in the Su case are placed together with the Wu couple and their family, the opposing side is the "incompetent judicial system." In that case, all of the former become "victims," and the judiciary becomes the true "perpetrator." Due to police torture, sloppy evidence collection by prosecutors, crude forensic identification, and hasty rulings by the courts, the youth and time of the three young men in the Su case were squandered for over twenty years. It also left the Wu family perpetually trapped in the entanglements of the judiciary.

When the judiciary becomes the perpetrator, it is actually a "triple injustice." First, the real perpetrator may still be at large. Second, the actual victim still lacks clarity regarding the truth, their grievance unredressed. Worst of all, it sacrifices the youth—and even precious lives—of innocent people.

The most typical example is the Chiang Kuo-ching case. At the time, a young girl was sexually assaulted and her lower body pierced with an object before her death, shocking society and arousing public outrage. Under pressure from all sides, forensic analysis blundered, Chiang Kuo-ching failed a lie detector test, and torture combined with military hastiness—driven solely by a desire to quickly quell public opinion—led to Chiang being tried, convicted, and executed by firing squad all in a rush.

Even though the case has now been overturned, Chiang Kuo-ching is long reduced to a pile of bones. What makes it even harder to bear is that no one has had to take responsibility for Chiang's death. The real perpetrator has still not been found and remains at large. The most pitiable young girl had her tender life wrongfully cut short, the truth remains unclear, and who can ever restore justice to her?

Caring for the "Potential" Chiangs

Chiang Kuo-ching's case is the first miscarriage of justice acknowledged by the government. Tragically, in Taiwan, people seem to attain the weight and attention they deserve only after they have died. Chiu Ho-sun, Cheng Hsing-tse, and Hsu Tzu-chiang, whom civic groups care about, are all highly likely to be victims of miscarriages of justice perpetrated by the judiciary. Chiu and Cheng are still fighting against death, while Hsu was a bit luckier, escaping the death penalty, but remains trapped in the quagmire of the judiciary—for no more, no less, than twenty years.

Chiu Ho-sun was subjected to torture, and it was a rare occurrence when an officer who had originally participated in the investigation was willing to step forward and testify to help exonerate him. His defense team petitioned the court for a retrial on Chiu's behalf, yet the court dismissed it in a mere 12 days. The case file for the Chiu case spans over 500 volumes; had the judges truly reviewed and examined them, it would have been impossible to take only 12 days. Such a perfunctory attitude toward human life is truly staggering.

Our nation's judicial culture has historically dared not or been unwilling to offend colleagues, with the result that initiating retrial proceedings is akin to overturning the views of others, making it inherently very difficult from the outset. Coupled with the unreasonableness of the retrial system—where the ones initiating are the ones who have to try the case themselves, amounting to "troubling oneself"—this is a design completely at odds with human frailties. These dual factors mean that even though the Legislative Yuan has just amended the law to relax the requirements for retrial, getting the practice to consent to a retrial is still as difficult as ascending to heaven. What Chiu Ho-sun is fighting is not the victim, but rather an incompetent judiciary.

From different standpoints, people easily form different perceptions and ideas—we have all read the story of the blind men and the elephant. Paradoxically, everyone also knows that the media is bloodthirsty. Caring for victims is surely something on which we all agree. However, the media often holds an unfriendly, established stance toward defendants facing "serious charges." To care for this kind of "victim" requires a bit of diligence and the courage not to accept media reports at face value.

This article is an AI-generated translation of the original Chinese text. In the event of any discrepancy, the Chinese version shall prevail.

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