Commercial sexual exploitation is often framed as an illicit activity beyond the reach of the law. Yet, the same coercive dynamics flourish at the center of the criminal legal system: inside prisons.There, abuse is not only normalized, but ingrained within its very structure, and sanctioned by those with legal authority. At its core, sex trafficking is the exchange of sexual acts for anything of value. In prison, that value is survival itself: safety, basic necessities, or even the ability to communicate with loved ones. When every aspect of daily life is tightly controlled, consent loses all meaning, replaced by coercion rooted in dependence. In this system, those most vulnerable are strategically targeted, and ensnared in a predatory structure that quietly perpetuates cycles of abuse long after release.
To fully understand the exploitation present in prisons, it is necessary to recognize that the definition of sex trafficking extends beyond traditional frameworks. Journalistic investigations have shown that incarcerated individuals are often coerced by prison officials into performing sexual acts in exchange for privileges or protection; thus creating a system that mirrors a trafficking economy on a limitedscale. Furthermore, survivors report that refusing sexual demands can lead to retaliation, such as solitary confinement, loss of access to food and water, or denial of medical care. In these conditions, “choice” becomes indistinguishable from coercion. As Michel Foucault explains in Discipline and Punish, power produces reality, suggesting that systems of control shape not only behavior, but the very conditions under which these “decisions” are made. When survival becomes synonymous with compliance, the conditions necessary for autonomous decision-making collapse; this calls into question whether consent obtained under such circumstances can be considered valid or a form of purchased compliance. This is underscored by the principle that the purchase of sex, in any capacity, is not an expression of consent, but a transaction rooted in coercion.
Exploitation of this kind disproportionately targets what can be understood as the “feminized body.” Cisgender women in prisons are among the most documented victims, frequently subjected to sexual abuse by correctional staff who wield unchecked authority. At the same time, transgender women– particularly those housed in men’s facilities– face extreme vulnerability, including reports of assault, harassment, and systemic neglect. First-person accounts describe constant exposure to violence and a lack of institutional protection, underscoring how gender identity intensifies risk. Other individuals perceived as weak or feminized within prison hierarchies– including gay men– are often positioned as targets for domination and exploitation. These patterns reflect broader conceptions in which femininity is associated with subordination, resulting in routine victimization. When guards and other prison officials use goods, privileges, and punishment to extract sexual compliance from incarcerated individuals, they produce a coercive economy in which access to protection and essential provisions becomes transactional. As such, sexual harm in carceral settings is not merely abuse, but a form of commercial sexual exploitation embedded within institutional power.
Incarcerated individuals’ vulnerability to exploitation within prisons is also deeply connected to histories of prior abuse. Reporting indicates that many incarcerated women have experienced sexual or domestic violence before entering prison. This history of trauma can shape how individuals respond to coercion, sometimes normalizing abusive dynamics or limiting perceived avenues of resistance. Additionally, Foucault’s framework helps explain why prison exploitation is not merely the result of individual misconduct and exploitation of previous trauma, but of institutional design. In Discipline and Punish, he famously writes that “visibility is a trap,” emphasizing how constant surveillance enforces compliance without the need for overt violence. In the prison context, this surveillance, combined with the absolute authority of the facility and its staff, creates an environment where resistance is both dangerous and often futile. Consent, under these conditions, therefore becomes structurally impossible. Rather than disrupting cycles of victimization, prisons often reproduce them, placing already vulnerable individuals into environments where exploitation is routine.
In some cases, individuals are directly funneled from prison into trafficking situations, illustrating a continuity between institutional abuse and external exploitation. Without access to stable housing, employment, or support systems, survival strategies learned in prison may persist, increasing the likelihood of re-incarceration. Exploitation within prisons, therefore, does not end at release but contributes to broader cycles of marginalization and control.
Efforts to address prison sexual exploitation include the Prison Rape Elimination Act (PREA) of 2003, which mandates national standards to prevent, detect, and respond to sexual abuse in correctional facilities. PREA represents a legal acknowledgment of the vulnerability of certain bodies in prison, requiring reporting mechanisms, staff training, and independent audits. However, reporting and enforcement remain inconsistent, and institutional compliance often falls short, leaving populations such as cisgender women, transgender women, feminine-presenting inmates, and LGBTQ individuals exposed to systemic abuse. This highlights a persistent tension: laws may exist to prevent exploitation, but without effective enforcement and cultural change, the structural dynamics that enable coercion remain largely intact.
Ultimately, prisons cannot be understood as neutral spaces of justice or rehabilitation; they are environments where power, control, and vulnerability intersect to create fertile grounds for systemic sexual exploitation. Abuse within these walls is not incidental but a predictable outcome of structures that normalize surveillance, restrict autonomy, and weaponize dependence. Foucault’s framework illuminates how these institutions actively produce conditions in which certain bodies are made vulnerable, and “choice” becomes illusory. Recognizing this reality demands more than legal mandates like PREA; it requires confronting the cultural and structural forces that perpetuate exploitation, advocating for accountability, and reimagining incarceration itself. Consequently, only by addressing the systemic roots of coercion can we begin to break the cycles of harm that extend far beyond prison gates and ensure that survival does not come at the cost of personal and bodily autonomy.
This piece is part of our first-year law student blog series. Congratulations to Gia Angiolillo on being chosen!
All views expressed herein are personal to the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Villanova University Charles Widger School of Law or of Villanova University.