When Sport Turns to Moral Panic: Trafficking Rhetoric at Major Events

There’s a familiar narrative that follows mega sporting events in the U.S.; that they spark an inevitable rise in human trafficking, especially the ever salacious sex trafficking.

The Super Bowl is the most common example: reports of thousands of underage sex workers flood headlines, but the evidence doesn’t back that up.

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While adult-oriented online ads may tick up modestly, rigorous studies consistently debunk the notion of dramatic spikes in actual trafficking during such events.

With the 2026 FIFA World Cup coming to North America, it’s already shaping up to be the “new” Super Bowl for trafficking rhetoric, complete with recycled myths, inflated statistics, and the same cast of anti-trafficking organizations eager to cash in on the global spotlight.

It didn’t take long to watch the spectacle begin.

An example of Fear-Based Fundraising with a specific effort of amplifying Trafficking Panic from one of our allies flagged a project that shows exactly how inflated rhetoric can be weaponized for fundraising while offering little clarity on actual services: Our Legacy House.

The organization presents itself as a mission-driven effort “building safe, trauma-sensitive facilities for child survivors of commercial sexual exploitation and trafficking,” and invites contributions through corporate sponsorships, charitable events, and fundraisers like the “Stride for Survivors” walk or legacy gala. Now, with Atlanta set to host FIFA World Cup matches in 2026, Our Legacy House has latched onto the tournament as the latest stage for trafficking panic—pushing the long-debunked claim that major sporting events trigger dramatic spikes in trafficking. Their public messaging not only recycles the same false narratives that have fueled past “Super Bowl” moral panics, but also fails to acknowledge the well-documented evidence that no such surges occur.

Beneath the emotional appeals, the gaps in their program are glaring:

• The website solicits donations without explaining how funds will be allocated - because the facility doesn’t even exist yet.

• Without a physical space, there’s no way to evaluate its capacity, safety, or effectiveness, let alone prove it can deliver meaningful services to survivors. Promises about “healing” remain hypothetical marketing copy, not a tested program.

• A "Pastor". is listed as a survivor-ambassador whose brief bio centers her experience and faith journey, but the site provides no additional context about her background, pastoral credentials, or current institutional role. Emotional survivor testimonies, while compelling, are not a substitute for impact reports, outcome transparency, or service verification.

This is a familiar pattern in the anti-trafficking world: emotional resonance, sweeping promises, and buzzwords like “safe houses” or “healing” wrapped in a vague “save the children” call to action. These tactics can drive donations and media attention—but they rarely guarantee measurable, survivor-centered support. And in the case of the FIFA World Cup, they risk funneling resources toward fear-based publicity stunts instead of the evidence-based, survivor-led interventions that could actually reduce exploitation.

Why does this rhetoric persist?

Rescue narratives and spectacle campaigns often amplify emotion-driven rescue fantasies—casting sex workers, especially survivors and racialized women, as helpless victims needing saving, rather than acknowledging their autonomy or addressing structural marginalization.

Resource and moral theater is a compelling political and PR incentive to signal action: more talk of trafficking = more visibility, funding, and policing during high-profile events.

Distorted media amplification resulted in one study finding that 76% of U.S. print media stories about the Super Bowl linked it to sex trafficking—even when the evidence was thin or non-existent.

What IS well-documented is widespread labor trafficking—particularly in supply chains, infrastructure, hospitality, and construction tied to events like the FIFA World Cup. Qatar’s 2022 tournament, for example, involved thousands of migrant workers facing debt bondage, hazardous conditions, withheld passports, and denial of rest and food—with some suing U.S. companies for “sportswashing” the abuses.

Voices from the UK are weighing in through their well worn NFL mouthpiece; It’s a Penalty

Based in the UK, It’s a Penalty is one of the most visible NGOs linking major sporting events—like the EURO 2025 or past Super Bowls—to the fight against human trafficking. Their stated aim is to “educate, equip, and empower” the public to recognize and report exploitation, using the global platform of high-profile sports.

For example, their Women’s EURO 2025 campaign partners with Booking.com, Accor, and Uber to engage the hospitality and travel sectors. At the Super Bowl in New Orleans in January 2025, they teamed up with Booking.com, Caesars Entertainment, and Skechers to “boost reporting capacities.”

Here in the U.S., the outcomes were more complicated. Despite the high-profile partnerships and media attention, there were no arrests of adult consensual sex workers and no confirmed sex trafficking survivors or victims identified during the event. In conversations afterward, It’s a Penalty stated they were unaware that U.S. law enforcement might use such campaigns as part of operations that disproportionately target consensual adult sex workers.

As a UK-based organization working in a U.S. context, this presents an important opportunity for dialogue. We hope It’s a Penalty and similar groups will engage directly with U.S.-based sex worker rights organizations to understand the realities on the ground, avoid unintended harm, and ensure that anti-trafficking efforts here do not become vehicles for increased criminalization of the very communities they aim to protect.

These campaigns cost us more than money!

When corporate-backed “awareness” campaigns dominate the stage, they don’t just consume media oxygen—they divert funding, political will, and public attention away from proven, survivor-led solutions.

Every billboard, celebrity endorsement, and hotel training session built around an unproven “event-related trafficking surge” is a dollar not spent on:

• Direct services for survivors and sex workers—housing, legal aid, healthcare, harm reduction supplies.

• Labor trafficking investigations in industries where exploitation is rampant.

• Decriminalization advocacy—the most effective way to reduce exploitation while protecting consensual sex workers.

• Community-led prevention—survivor- and sex worker-led outreach tackling root causes like poverty, housing insecurity, and criminal records.

Worse, these campaigns reinforce the idea that trafficking is solved through policing, not justice. The result? More surveillance, more raids, and more harm to the very communities they claim to protect—while the real perpetrators remain untouched.

We must center survivors - not panic!

While others chase headlines with inflated numbers and rescue rhetoric, SWOP Behind Bars and many many other sex worker rights organizations have consistently used the Super Bowl as an opportunity to reach the people negatively impacted by these crackdowns. Instead of ramping up surveillance, we’ve mobilized volunteers to distribute harm reduction supplies, legal rights information, and contact cards for post-arrest support to sex workers in host cities. We monitor local law enforcement operations during “trafficking stings” to document arrests, connect those detained with bail funds, and track whether anyone identified as a “victim” actually receives services. Our focus is on real outcomes: keeping sex workers safer, preventing unnecessary criminalization, and ensuring that public resources aren’t wasted on moral theater while labor trafficking and other forms of exploitation go unaddressed.

Facts Matter!

These initiatives are not just about flawed messaging—they actively distract from survivor-led, evidence-based work that decriminalizes and empowers sex workers. Funds funneled into nebulous “projects” dilute efforts that prioritize the lived experiences, autonomy, and self-determination of sex worker–survivors.

The truth is simple: moral panic doesn’t protect people—it protects the narrative. Mega-event trafficking campaigns may look good on press releases and celebrity Instagram feeds, but they siphon resources from strategies that actually work. If we want to address exploitation in all its forms, we must abandon the spectacle, stop chasing ghosts at high-profile games, and invest instead in survivor-led, evidence-based approaches that address the structural realities of trafficking. Until then, the only real winners at these events will be the brands and politicians cashing in on fear.