The latest allegations against King County Assessor John Arthur Wilson make something painfully clear: Protection orders are widely used, frequently violated and too often fail to stop escalation. As a result, victims of violence and stalking must track their abusers if they want to stay safe.
Based on call data from the Seattle Open Data Portal, Seattle police responded to 1,322 calls related to domestic violence protection orders in 2025. The orders triggered arrests in 366 of those cases, and Wilson’s was one of them. He was ordered to wear a GPS ankle monitor as part of a no-contact order but so far does not.
The system that was designed to protect victims hinges on technology that alerts her if he comes within 1,000 feet. This is not accountability. We are just outsourcing safety and giving the victim homework.
We have built a system where survivors — who are overwhelmingly women, at nearly 1 in 3 — are expected to download apps, monitor alerts, alter their routines and remain in a constant state of vigilance while the person accused of harming them negotiates the terms of compliance. We hand women an app and say, “Good luck.”
This is not just a policy failure; it reflects a system that expects women to carry the burden of keeping themselves safe. Anticipate the danger. Manage the risk. Do the work.
GPS monitoring can be a helpful tool, but only if the victims have regular access to a smartphone and it is enforced. And it still places the burden on the victim. In this case, the court ordered monitoring in response to allegations of repeated violations of a no-contact order by Wilson. The ankle monitor wasn’t excessive; it was an acknowledgment that earlier interventions had failed.
And yet, here we are — negotiating with him. At his April 15 hearing, Wilson managed to avoid compliance by citing medical reasons that allegedly prevented him from wearing the ankle monitoring device (which were not noted as an issue at the previous hearing, when he agreed to wear it). So she must, once again, do more work.
She will have to document any future violations, report them and wait. Too often, institutions contort themselves to accommodate the accused, leaving survivors to bear the burden of their own safety.
Even now, despite a five-year no-contact order and criminal charges, the central question is not around victim safety but how we make the system work around him. All the while, he continues to serve in elected office, despite widespread calls by the Metropolitan King County Council and the King County Executive for him to step down as a matter of principle.
When a powerful public official can resist court-ordered monitoring and remain in office, it sends the message that accountability is negotiable, especially for men in positions of power.
According to the Stalking Prevention Awareness Resource Center, intimate partner stalkers are the most likely to approach, threaten and harm their victims. Stalking is an escalating form of gender-based violence. Meanwhile, survivors are held to an impossible standard. Be vigilant. Be responsive. Be prepared. It could mean your job, your vibrancy or even your life.
We need to ask ourselves, why are victims responsible for monitoring someone else’s compliance at all? Why aren’t we building systems centered on enforcement? Why do we rely on survivors to interpret risk in real time instead of ensuring that violations trigger consequences? Especially for those we entrust to hold elected positions?
Real accountability looks different. It looks like systems that reduce, not redistribute, the burden placed on survivors.
Until then, we are not protecting victims. We are deputizing them with a hidden curriculum.
And that’s not justice — it’s just an extension of abuse.
Members of the Seattle Women’s Commission contributed to this op-ed.
