Lecture Recap | After the Nth Room: South Korea’s Legal, Policy, and Institutional Responses to Technology-Facilitated Abuse

Editor's Note

In 2020, South Korea's "Nth Room" incident shocked the world. Driven by intense public outrage and feminist movements, South Korea launched extensive legal and policy reforms, and is regarded as one of the countries that have most rapidly established digital sexual crime response systems globally. On December 10, 2025, we invited Ms. Sungshin Bae to deliver an online lecture titled “After the Nth Room: South Korea's Legal, Policy, and Institutional Responses to Technology-facilitated Abuse”, offering reference for jurisdictions facing similar challenges regarding effective legislation, platform accountability, and survivor-centred response strategies.

With the speaker's consent, we now release the video of this lecture. It should be noted that the lecture was delivered in Korean, with simultaneous interpretation from Korean into Mandarin provided; hence, the speaking pace is somewhat slower than that of a conventional lecture. The video contains only the original Korean audio, without the simultaneous interpretation audio track. While video platforms can auto-generate translated subtitles, we found that these subtitles contained significant mistranslations of numerous technical terms. Even the live simultaneous interpretation occasionally deviated due to the high density of terminology, and the post-generated subtitles contained even more errors. Accordingly, drawing on the speaker's presentation slides and related academic materials, we conducted sentence-by-sentence proofreading and academic editing of the subtitles to produce a complete English manuscript. Following final review and approval by the speaker, it is now released alongside the lecture video.

Speaker’s Bio:Sungshin (Luna) Bae is a PhD candidate in Criminology at Monash University and at the Monash Gender and Family Violence Prevention Centre. For ten years, she worked as a gender equity specialist at the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office and the Seoul Metropolitan Government of the Republic of Korea. Her research explores digital surveillance and coercive control in intimate relationships, including how emerging technologies like AI and platform infrastructures enable new forms of monitoring and dependency.

Below is the English version of the lecture manuscript.

Introduction: Terminological Clarification and Content Overview

 

Terminological Clarification

Before we begin, I would like to first clarify the terminology. Regarding gender-based violence in the digital age, different countries and scholars employ varying vocabularies.

In South Korea, the most commonly used term is "디지털 성범죄". This term typically refers to digital sexual offences that utilise digital devices such as cameras to illegally film, disseminate, and store sexual images without consent, thereby infringing upon others' sexual autonomy and personal rights.

However, the term I shall employ today is TFA, or "Technology-Facilitated Abuse", which is more prevalent in Australia. In Australia, it is defined as "a complex form of intimate partner violence that uses digital technologies—such as smartphones, location-tracking apps, and social media—to control, monitor, and harass" (Fiolet et al., 2021).

The most critical point here is that TFA emphasises this as a behavioural issue, not merely a technological one. It focuses on three core elements:

·       The perpetrator's behaviours of control, surveillance, and harassment;

·       The concrete harms inflicted upon the victim;

·       The absence of meaningful consent.

Therefore, I have deliberately avoided using "Technology-Facilitated Violence" today and have instead chosen TFA (Technology-Facilitated Abuse). This is because the crux of this phenomenon lies not in technology but in power, behaviour, and harm. Rather than a mere "act of violence," it emphasises a sustained power oppression.

Scholars such as Vasil et al. (2023) also stress that in understanding TFA, the core lies not in the technology itself but in the social structures within which that technology operates. The structural conditions that reinforce this abuse include: gender-based power inequalities, economic vulnerability, socio-cultural exclusion, and the absence of legal institutions.

In other words, technology is merely a catalyst (agent); what truly renders this abuse possible are unequal social structures. Therefore, to address this technology-enabled abuse, we must never rely solely on "laws that regulate technology"; we must approach the problem from the totality of social, cultural, and legal structures.

I am aware that within United Nations advocacy, many experts strategically employ the term "Violence" to underscore state accountability. However, today, in order to more profoundly analyse the underlying behavioural mechanisms and social structures, I shall proceed using the concept of TFA.

On the Characterisation of the "Nth Room" Incident

The "Nth Room" incident, which I shall focus on today, although classifiable under the definition of TFA I have just outlined, possesses the following distinctive characteristics: its core is Image-Based Abuse—that is, the production of sexual exploitation content through threats and coercion, and its organised dissemination via platforms.

We observe within it a high degree of commercialisation and exploitation; this is a systematic crime propagated and consumed through online communities.

Therefore, we must never reduce the "Nth Room" incident to an act of violence committed between individuals through technology. It must be understood as: an organised exploitative event deeply intertwined with gender-based power structures, driven by the profit motives of the Digital Platform Economy.

Content Overview

Today, I wish to explore: since the outbreak of the "Nth Room" incident in South Korea, what changes have occurred, and what problems remain unresolved? Those of you present may have some knowledge of the "Nth Room" incident and may believe that South Korean society responded with vigour and resolve. But unfortunately, since then, novel forms of Technology-Facilitated Abuse have instead experienced explosive growth in South Korean society. The demographic composition of perpetrators is shifting, the platforms used are becoming increasingly diversified, and the pace of technological development is accelerating. Thus, the core objective of today's lecture is not merely to document South Korea's responses, but to delve into why this abuse continues to intensify, and what analytical frameworks we need to introduce in interpreting this phenomenon.

Today's lecture shall proceed according to the following logic:

·       First, a review of the evolution of South Korean society following the outbreak of the "Nth Room" incident.

·       Second, an exploration of why the "Nth Room" was never an isolated exception but a structural turning point.

·       Third, an introduction to the contents of South Korea's legal and policy reforms.

·       Fourth, an analysis of the new morphological changes in recent digital technology-facilitated abuse.

·       Fifth, and this is one of the focal points of today's lecture: in a digitally and technologically saturated society, what forms of "structural abuse" emerge? I shall focus on dissecting how the "oppressive structure" targeting victims is formed.

·       Sixth, I shall propose a theoretical framework to explain the above problems, and explore how this theory might be integrated with policy intervention.

·       Finally, I shall conclude this lecture.

I. After the Nth Room: Law, Institutions, and Social Movements

I would like to pose a question: Has South Korean society become safer for women since the "Nth Room" incident?

If anyone were to ask me this question, my answer would be "no." As I mentioned earlier, novel forms of Technology-Facilitated Gender-Based Abuse (TFGBV) have not diminished but have instead grown exponentially. This is not an extreme isolated event; this technological abuse is spreading into every relationship of our daily lives.

The Present: Mired in Digital Violence

You may have seen a report: a recent survey by an American cybersecurity firm revealed that among global victims of Deepfake image-based sexual abuse, more than half are South Koreans. Within just a few years, the number of related domestic reports in South Korea has surged more than tenfold. Moreover, the age of perpetrators has dropped significantly—among those recently arrested for digital sexual crimes, approximately 80% are teenagers and individuals in their twenties. For instance, recently, South Korea saw another outbreak involving the sharing of Deepfake sexual exploitation images through Telegram channels, with the channel's participating users numbering as high as 220,000.

Background: Why South Korea?

We must ask: why has this situation become so rampant in South Korean society?

In fact, South Korea is one of the most digitally advanced societies globally, with extremely high internet penetration. South Korea possesses a super-app known as "national infrastructure"—KakaoTalk, which is used by approximately 96% of South Korean internet users.

Furthermore, South Korea's mobile and telecommunications systems enforce a strict real-name verification system. Through KakaoTalk, South Koreans not only conduct daily communication but also receive government tax and medical notifications, and even use it to hail taxis, reserve restaurants, and shop. We can say that the entirety of South Koreans' daily lives is built upon a highly developed digital ecosystem.

The Criminal Mechanism of the "Nth Room" and Its Socio-Cultural Soil

So, what kind of disaster was the "Nth Room," and why did it become a global turning point?

To briefly summarise this case: the victims were overwhelmingly female, many of whom were minors. The perpetrators first obtained victims' personal information through legal or illegal channels, then threatened them and coerced them into producing Sexual Exploitation Materials. The perpetrators established a tiered, paid-access chat room on Telegram, where users paid in cryptocurrency to view content. The more degrading the content and the more severe the exploitation, the greater the number of paying viewers. This was a fully platformised and commodified structure of sexual exploitation.

What did this criminal mechanism exploit? When perpetrators contacted women and adolescents through online platforms, they initially often established trust through seemingly innocuous conversations (for example, posing as talent scouts), and after obtaining photographs, swiftly shifted to threats.

Here, South Korean society's extremely conservative gender norms and victim-blaming culture became weapons for the perpetrators. Victims were terrified that their intimate photographs would be disseminated to family members and acquaintances, experiencing intense shame. The perpetrators precisely exploited this fear, continuously issuing more severe demands, driving victims into a desperate situation where they could neither resist nor seek help.

The Explosion of Social Movements and Cognitive Transformation

You may know that this egregious incident was not initially discovered by the police or government agencies, but by two female university student undercover journalists known as "Team Flame" (추적단 불꽃), who risked immense danger to infiltrate the Telegram chat rooms.

They collaborated with civil society organisations and the media to apply pressure on the police and prosecution, leading to the full exposure of the incident. Subsequently, South Korea witnessed massive civic movements: hundreds of thousands of citizens participated in Blue House petitions, and the streets and internet resounded with the protest slogan "My life is not your porn." Journalists, lawyers, IT experts, and civil groups formed joint response committees; some netizens even established a website called "Digital Prison" to publicly expose the identities of perpetrators.

This series of movements precipitated a crucial cognitive transformation in South Korean society:

·       From bystander to accomplice: No longer merely demanding punishment for the "content producers," but explicitly stating that the 260,000 paying subscribers and viewers were also criminals, accomplices in sexual exploitation.

·       Holding platforms accountable: The public began to strongly question platforms such as Telegram for exploiting "anonymity and encryption" technologies to evade responsibility.

·       Critiquing investigative institutions: The public accused the police and prosecution of past insensitivity towards cyber gender-based violence. They had ignored reports, shifted the burden of evidence collection onto victims, and displayed extreme insensitivity towards crimes involving minors.

·       From "Pornography/Obscenity" to "Sexual Exploitation": This was the most central discursive shift. The term "pornography/obscenity" was no longer used; instead, it was reframed as organised sexual exploitation. Rather than shifting responsibility onto victims, it directly targeted the perpetrators' actions and the state's dereliction of duty.

The Achievements and Limitations of Legal Reform

Subsequently, South Korea established a Special Investigation Bureau for Digital Sex Crimes and launched large-scale arrest operations (according to statistics, over 3,700 individuals were arrested). South Korea also undertook extremely intensive legal reforms, and is even considered the fastest OECD country to establish a digital sexual crime response system.

The main reforms included: clearly defining related content as "sexual exploitation"; beginning to regulate platforms and communication infrastructure; and, considering the profit-driven nature of these crimes, lowering the threshold for evidence collection to more severely confiscate criminal proceeds. Recently, South Korea became the first country globally to enact standalone legislation severely punishing the purchase, storage, and viewing of Deepfake sexual exploitation content.

However, despite increasingly stringent laws, the prevalence did not decline. The limitations of legislation are becoming apparent:

Legal updates perpetually lag behind changes in platform characteristics and technological iterations.

South Korean investigative institutions still lack substantive investigative authority over overseas servers (such as Telegram).

The burden of evidence collection often still falls upon the victim. In Deepfake cases, conviction standards remain ambiguous (for example, if only the victim's body photograph was used with a forged face, it is difficult to be immediately legally recognised as a sexual crime and severely punished).

Summary: Unresolved Structural Contradictions

At the socio-cultural level, anti-feminist movements continue to spread, and gender conflict remains severe.

Although we have achieved remarkable progress in policy and institutions—for instance, formally incorporating "digital sexual crimes" into the national Basic Plan for Policy on Violence Against Women, and establishing a central support centre—why has the harm not diminished?

II. Emerging Patterns of TFGBV, Infrastructure, and Everyday Control

 

Why Does Digital Violence Escalate Despite Stringent Laws?

From the current situation, I believe this is no longer the "individual deviance" of a small number of criminals. It is because the structural conditions of the digital environment itself have not changed. We can attribute this structural problem to four aspects:

First, the problem of Platform architectures themselves. For example, the encrypted and anonymous structure represented by Telegram. At the same time, South Korean domestic platforms possess extremely high "real-time connectivity," such as the culture of "must reply instantly" and the "read receipt" function. Moreover, perpetrators can easily form alliances under powerful network infrastructures. Even more terrifyingly, generating and disseminating such content is now extremely easy; even if victims apply for deletion, the same files can be re-uploaded with modified Hash values, or transferred to overseas servers. This demonstrates that these underlying architectures exert far greater control over human behaviour than the law.

Second, Communication infrastructures. As I just mentioned, super-app ecosystems such as KakaoTalk. In South Korea, finance, transportation, and communication are almost entirely bound to a single real-name verified app, which has deeply penetrated every daily relationship. Victims are fundamentally unable to achieve Digital disconnection. If a victim deactivates her account to evade a perpetrator, she will face unbearable social costs and a digital divide tantamount to social death.

Third, Algorithmic systems and the evolution of artificial intelligence. In fact, the pace of legal revision cannot possibly keep up with the iteration speed of AI algorithms; this is an enormous challenge.

Fourth, Cultural norms of visibility and connectivity. This may resonate in many Asian countries, but South Korean society is particularly sensitive to this. We have an implicit rule: you must display your presence and maintain constant contact. Between lovers and friends, maintaining contact around the clock, replying to messages instantly, and knowing each other's location and emotional state through profile pictures and status updates—this culture, taken for granted, actually constitutes a form of surveillance and control. It is merely cloaked in the guise of "intimacy" or "care."

The Turn: Deepfake and Abuse in Acquaintance/Intimate Relationships

Now, let us examine how this abuse spreads within everyday relationships. We are facing a major paradigm shift: the rise of Deepfake Image-Based Abuse.

According to a 2024 report, of all Deepfake image-based sexual abuse videos on the global internet, more than half feature South Korean women as victims. Within South Korea, cases involving Deepfake images surged from 1,900 in 2021 to over 23,000 in 2024. Among the over 10,000 victims who sought help in 2023, nearly 80% were young women under 30.

We once believed that Deepfake image-based sexual abuse was the work of anonymous perpetrators, but now data reveals a terrifying truth: these technologies are being extensively used within intimate relationships and peer (acquaintance) relationships, as tools for humiliation, coercion, and control.

Furthermore, since the implementation of South Korea's Anti-Stalking Act, we have seen large amounts of Digital Stalking surface. Perpetrators demand their partners' passwords, monitor their consumption records and travel trajectories, or use forged sexual images for coercion. Therefore, Intimate Partner Violence (IPV) has become one of the core patterns of Technology-Facilitated Gender-Based Violence (TFGBV).

The Infrastructure of Coercion: When Everyday Technology Becomes Extreme Control

In contemporary South Korean society, Technology-Facilitated Abuse (TFA) presents two interlinked structural layers: on one side, the anonymous, organised exploitation seen in the "Nth Room"; on the other, deep digital coercion within everyday relationships.

We need to recognise that South Korea is a digitally saturated society. Smartphone penetration reaches 96%, with a strict mandatory real-name SIM card policy. Moreover, South Korea's surveillance systems are extremely dense, with Seoul alone operating over 113,000 public CCTV cameras, ranking among the world's highest per-capita CCTV densities.

More critically, our lives are filled with various "smart safety technologies." For example, location-sharing apps are extremely popular among couples and families; for the safety of those living alone or for pet monitoring, people install IoT cameras in their homes; our smart door locks record every entry and exit; and even family mobile plans can display each other's contacts.

These everyday technologies bring immense convenience and are even packaged as "for safety," "because I love you and want to protect you." This makes it extremely easy for perpetrators to exploit these tools and technologies. Victims do not even need to actively use any location technology; as long as they live within this environment, perpetrators can exploit bank consumption records, transportation services, and smart home networks to monitor their entire lives.

III. Case Studies of Digital Entrapment

 

Case One: "He Never Left My Phone"—Erased Boundary of Platform Architecture

Let me present several real cases.

The first case concerns a woman attempting to escape her ex-boyfriend's control. In South Korea, one of the most basic steps when breaking up with a partner is to block the other person on KakaoTalk, thereby ending the relationship. But this survivor discovered that such blocking was utterly futile. Although one-on-one chat was blocked, the ex-boyfriend still appeared in group chats they had previously shared. KakaoTalk's automatic friend recommendation system and contact synchronisation functions caused the ex-boyfriend to continuously reappear in her various social channels. Furthermore, shared accounts the couple had previously used to save money—such as Coupang (similar to Taobao/JD.com) or food delivery apps, ride-hailing software—continued to synchronise data. Even after the breakup, the ex-boyfriend could see in real time what she ate, where she went, and which address packages were delivered to. This created an extremely absurd situation in court: because this information was "automatically synchronised by the system," legally it was difficult to establish that the perpetrator was "illegally obtaining information," and the perpetrator could even argue that this was "consensual sharing" by the victim. The victim said in despair: "I feel like he never completely disappeared from my phone." In this case, it was not that the victim did not know how to sever contact, but that the Platform architecture itself erased the safety boundaries the victim attempted to establish.

Case Two: Fatal Coerced Livestreaming—Economic Exploitation via Digital Infrastructure

The second case illustrates how digital infrastructure can push women towards fatal Economic exploitation.

A deeply troubling case occurred in South Korea: a husband forced his wife to perform sexual livestreams every day. In this process, the husband did not use chains to bind his wife, nor did he use traditional physical violence. What he exploited were the household smart CCTV cameras, shared laptops, and the couple's interconnected communication apps. From the livestream footage, the wife's body appeared "free"; she seemed to suffer no coercion. But in reality, the husband exploited all available infrastructure to subject her to round-the-clock psychological control and surveillance. On this online livestreaming platform, the perpetrator did not need to act with his own hands; the platform's viewers and tipping mechanism itself constituted a form of coercion. The suspect even told his wife: "If you stop livestreaming, the fans will spread your photos everywhere." Ultimately, this woman could no longer endure the complex coercion constituted by intimate relationship violence, economic exploitation, and the livestreaming platform's tipping mechanism, and chose to end her life in her own room. I wish to emphasise that South Korea's highly commercialised Monetised streaming culture and digital labour norms make it extremely difficult for victims to escape. The platform here is not merely a "site" where violence occurs; it is a structural trap that enables violence, sustains its operation, and blocks the victim's escape.

Case Three: Smart Home Surveillance—The Alienation of Domestic Safety Technology

The final case demonstrates how "smart home surveillance" technologies, now widely promoted, have become tools for controlling victims' daily lives. For example, even when the perpetrator is not at home, he can remotely control the household thermostat via smartphone app, view smart CCTV footage, or access smart door lock entry and exit records. One victim told me: "Even when he is not at home, I feel like he is in the house." Smart devices originally marketed as enhancing Home safety, if left unrestricted, become perfect remote surveillance tools. The most terrifying aspect is that these technologies are often designed with "default-on log recording" and "extremely easy account sharing." They not only provide perpetrators with a breeding ground for surveillance but also cause perpetrators to unconsciously develop dependency and pleasure from this 24-hour surveillance, even considering it "normal."

 

Case Summary: Digital Exitlessness

What conclusions can we draw from these three cases?

Technology is not neutral. Digital infrastructure not only facilitates violence; it constitutes the very conditions of violence's possibility. We need to reflect on how Infrastructural design sustains this exploitation.

Control is achieved through Ambient visibility. In the past, perpetrators had to "actively" track and surveil victims; but now, through synchronised location information and shared application accounts, control has become a "structural, environmental, round-the-clock surveillance." As long as the victim is alive and using her mobile phone, she exists within a surveilled environment.

Breaking contact no longer guarantees safety. In the past, we could escape control simply by changing our number or moving house. But in today's highly interconnected platform environment, regardless of the victim's will, the digital traces left by the system will repeatedly reconnect her with the perpetrator.

This leads survivors to face a brutal reality—Digital Exitlessness. Even if she shuts down her devices, blocks accounts, or moves away from her residence, the victim cannot truly escape. Because as long as she attempts to survive in modern society, she cannot erase her existence within digital systems, and thus can never sever the perpetrator's control.

IV. Theoretical Framework, Reflections on Response, and Future Outlook

 

Conceptualising Digital Entrapment

Through these South Korean cases, I have discovered that technology is no longer merely a tool that is exploited; it has itself become an "abusive structural environment." We now need to theorise this concept, which I term "Digital Entrapment."

This Digital Entrapment is woven from four interlocking dimensions:

·       Cultural Entrapment: Behaviours of control are culturally legitimised. For example, surveillance and control are conducted in the name of "filial piety," "care," or "safety."

·       Infrastructural Entrapment / Structurally Embedded: Deeply embedded in the design of platform infrastructure and our extreme dependence on smart devices.

·       Relationally Enforced: Enforced through emotional bonds and social norms of "must remain visible / reply immediately."

·       Legal & Economic Entrapment: The livestreaming tipping and digital labour exploitation mentioned earlier.

When this coercive gender-based cultural norm, platform underlying design, and legal voids are combined, they form a structural predicament in which the victim completely loses any option of escape. This is not merely theory; it is lived reality—in South Korea, according to civil society reports, intimate partner femicide occurs at alarming rates — recent estimates suggest a woman is killed by an intimate partner approximately every few days, an extremely grave existential crisis.

Why Law Cannot Keep Up?

Although legal reform can bring about important social change, relying solely on the law can no longer resolve the continuously evolving technological violence. The lag of the law manifests in four aspects:

·       First, the law assumes Discrete Acts. The law always attempts to locate a specific, isolated criminal action to punish. But Technology-Facilitated Gender-Based Violence (TFGBV) is not a single event; it is a phenomenon that continuously germinates from Continuous infrastructures.

·       Second, platform impunity. Even when perpetrators take no direct action, the platform structure's "automatic synchronisation" and other functions can cause repeated harm to victims, yet platforms currently bear extremely limited responsibility.

·       Third, the hypocrisy of "safety technologies." We have found that apps marketed under the banner of "safety" (such as location-tracking software) are in fact highly prone to replicating and amplifying surveillance risks.

·       Fourth, over-reliance on Criminalisation may produce secondary harms. For example, in stalking cases, perpetrators exploit legal loopholes to file Counter-charges against victims, which instead exacerbates the victimisation of marginalised groups.

Three Major Regulatory Challenges and Policy Reflections

Facing these structural problems, we currently confront three major regulatory challenges:

·       Architectural accountability: How do we regulate the design of platforms themselves? Countries such as Australia have already begun promoting Safety by Design. This means that from the very inception of platform development, one must assess the risks of functions such as "automatic synchronisation" and "real-time location tracking" being weaponised by perpetrators, and intervene preemptively.

·       Algorithmic opacity: In Deepfake technologies and automatic recommendation systems, the black-box operation of algorithms leaves victims defenceless. I cannot comprehend why my information is pushed to perpetrators against my will.

·       Exit rights: This is what I most wish to emphasise. We need to legally grant survivors the Legal right to disappear from harmful systems. Victims should have the right to demand data deletion, to exit algorithmic systems, and to sever all technological bonds, without having to pay the price of "social death."

In terms of policy responses, South Korea has currently introduced world-leading digital safety reforms: for example, the 2024 Deepfake Criminalisation Act, the forthcoming establishment of a National Centre for Digital Sexual Crime Response, and the Seoul Metropolitan Government's introduction of an AI-based Detection & Takedown Systems operating 24 hours a day.

But within this lies a cautionary reflection: our proudly touted "AI automatic detection system" represents a shift from "passive victim reporting" to "AI proactive scanning and deletion." However, viewed from another angle, in order to protect victims, the state's artificial intelligence system is now scanning and surveilling this woman's sexual exploitation images 24 hours a day without interruption. Who protects this data privacy? If South Korean society focuses only on how fast deletion occurs, while neglecting the potential infringement upon individual privacy by the "national technological infrastructure" itself, this deviates from the feminist intention of protecting victims.

Comparative Insight and Conclusion: The Future of Asia

Finally, I wish to emphasise that the problems South Korea faces today are by no means limited to South Korea.

Looking across Asia—Mainland China, Hong Kong, Singapore, Japan—different regions are all rapidly constructing highly interconnected "smart cities," popularising extremely dense CCTV and AI surveillance networks, and possessing national lifestyles centred on super-apps. If the underlying logic of these digital infrastructures is not questioned and challenged, then the trajectory of digital sexual violence in South Korea today could well become a preview of the future for all highly surveilled societies across Asia.

Since the "Nth Room" incident, the evolution of violent forms has far exceeded our imagination. What we must ask today is no longer merely how to use the law to regulate individual atrocities, but rather: what kind of digital environment must we construct so that all people can truly feel safe? Technology is never neutral; the design of code is the embodiment of power, and platform infrastructure, if lacking a gender perspective, can at any moment become an accomplice to violence. This is also the significance of holding this lecture at the University of Hong Kong today, connecting the two sides of the Taiwan Strait and the Asian region. We must not only compare the legal provisions of different places, but collectively examine the entanglement of digital infrastructure and gender-based power structures. I look forward to change brought about by cross-regional reconstruction and collaboration, and I believe that as long as those of you present today have heard these voices, this change has already begun.

Thank you all.

Video Recording (YouTube)：

https://youtu.be/3j6hvrQcHfM

00:08:41 N號房作為結構性轉折點 (The Nth Room as a Structural Turning Point)

00:19:57 法律與政策改革：進展與局限 (Legal and Policy Reforms: Progress and Limitations)

00:26:47 TFGBV的新模式 (The Emerging Patterns of TFGBV)

00:30:18 數字飽和社會中的結構性風險 (Structural Conditions of Harm in a Digitally Saturated Society)

00:36:14 案例研究：日常科技如何形成「數字囚禁/圍困」 (Case Studies: Everyday Technologies as Mechanisms of Entrapment)

00:46:45 概念化「數字囚禁/圍困」：理論拓展 (Conceptualising Digital Entrapment)

00:48:29 政策啟示與未來方向 (Policy Implications and Future Directions)