One of the pillars of western democratic justice systems is an emphasis on protecting people against wrongful conviction.
This is most often expressed by Blackstone's formulation from 1765: "It is better that ten guilty persons escape than that one innocent suffer." Later theorists have upped the ante. Benjamin Franklin swapped ten for "100 guilty persons". The number isn't important; it's the principle that's at play.
We don't always get it right, of course: think of the high-profile examples like Arthur Allan Thomas, David Doherty, Teina Pora, and Peter Ellis – the later is important here, because it was in the context of a wider social movement and a moral panic that Ellis was convicted.
In the current environment, we are ripe for similar injustice to occur – although like in the Ellis example we may only fully recognise it with hindsight. But certainly we have hints at the difficulties of blindly believing victims above process. Trial by social media is no substitute for innocent until proven guilty.
The feverish belief in complainants was most recently publically laid bare by the actor Jussie Smollett whose tale of a homophobic racist attack by Trump supporters carrying bleach and a rope in hindsight seemed just a little too scripted, but it was widely and immediately believed. Until it entirely unravelled because he invented the whole thing.
But we don't have to go international to see similar issues at play. Last year allegations were made that a prominent deceased Maori leader had committed a host of crimes and was part of a paedophile ring that stretched to the upper echelons of power. The allegations and the way they were made screamed for caution. Yet, social media lit up supporting the woman and damning those who sought to defend the accused or question the allegations.
One prominent commentator, and a man I greatly respect, said, "Why can't Maori men just believe Maori women and children?" This is the popular refrain that a complainant's testimony is enough. On social media he was widely applauded.
Amidst that public scandal another man was accused of being part of the ring. In the end police could find no evidence to support any of the allegations.
The conviction of Peter Ellis for sex crimes against children at the Christchurch Civic Crèche, is perhaps our best local example of a case caught up in good intentions gone bad. The Ellis case was founded in part by a fervent belief that children don't lie.
Prominent graffiti around Christchurch at the time summed up the prevailing mood: 'BELIEVE THE CHILDREN'.
And believe the children we did.
As did many people in Blenheim recently when a woman made a rape complaint that implicated her former partner. The man said he was shouted at by strangers, kicked out of his flat, and lost his job as a result. Eventually the woman was convicted with giving a false statement to police.
Whether the issue is malice or mistake, the consequences of a false accusation or unsafe convictions are immense. To compare the victim of a serious sex crime and person falsely accused isn't useful, but all can agree both are filled with horror.
'Believe victims' is an important guiding principle, but it oughtn't supersede natural justice, innocent until proven guilty, and due process.
Does this mean #metoo needs to be halted? Of course not, its value remains incredibly high on numerous levels, and it is an important response to serious issues that need addressing.
Not least of which are undesirable behaviours that might not reach the threshold of criminality – such as bullying in the workforce or unwanted sexual advances. Also, #metoo and the caution embedded in our justice system can be bedfellows. The principles of justice just need to be promoted alongside the campaign.
The problem is that many on social media, where so many campaigns come to life, prefer a cause and rage rather than nuance and contemplative discussion.
• Dr Jarrod Gilbert is a sociologist at the University of Canterbury and a member of Te Uepū, the Government's Justice Advisory Group.
