When Systems Fail, Women Build Better Ones
From Survivor to Change-Maker: How Refusing to Accept Broken Systems Transforms Institutions and Empowers Others
By Dr. Melissa Maranville, PhD
January’s Most Influential Woman
Most people believe that when something is broken, someone else will fix it. A policy will be revised, a system improved, and accountability will eventually follow. Through my work as a forensic investigative consultant, expert witness, researcher, and trainer in child sexual exploitation, crimes against women, and human trafficking, I have learned that this belief is often misplaced. Systems do not correct themselves simply because they are flawed, and the people most affected by those failures are rarely the ones empowered to demand change.
Long before I earned a doctorate or built a professional career examining institutional failures, I experienced firsthand what it feels like to be unprotected by the systems meant to keep people safe. I am a survivor of both child exploitation and adult sexual assault. These experiences taught me early that policies, protocols, and procedures do not guarantee protection or justice. Reports can be filed, systems can exist on paper, and yet harm can continue unchecked, misunderstood, or quietly minimized. That reality shaped not only my perspective but also my purpose.
Rather than accepting these failures as inevitable, I became determined to understand them and to change how they are addressed in practice. I pursued advanced education not solely for credentials, but to gain the tools to translate lived experience into evidence-based analysis. Earning my doctorate allowed me to approach these issues through a forensic and research-driven lens, grounding advocacy in data and findings that institutions are required to take seriously.
Today, my work spans consulting, expert witness services, training, and policy development. As an expert witness, I work with law firms on complex civil cases involving sexual exploitation, trafficking, and institutional failures, providing analysis of digital evidence, systemic gaps, and standard-of-care issues. In addition to case-specific work, I help law firms develop policies, protocols, and best-practice manuals that guide the handling of sensitive evidence and the implementation of survivor-centered, ethical approaches in civil litigation. This policy work is designed not only to win cases but to raise standards and drive lasting change within the legal system.
As a trainer, I work directly with law enforcement, investigators, attorneys, and multidisciplinary professionals to close the gap between policy and practice. Training is where reform becomes operational. It is where professionals learn to navigate the dark web, trace cryptocurrency, use open-source intelligence, and recognize how predators exploit technological and institutional blind spots. Education is not supplemental to reform. It is foundational.
One of the most important lessons I have learned is that systems do not change simply because they are broken. They change when people refuse to continue working around the damage. Women, in particular, are often taught to adapt quietly, to be resilient within dysfunctional structures, and to carry the burden of navigating harm without challenging the systems that caused it. Resilience without reform only sustains the problem.
The most influential women I know are not waiting for permission to lead. They are identifying gaps, building what is missing, and creating pathways for others to do the work better, more ethically, and more effectively. Influence is not about individual recognition alone. It is about equipping institutions with the knowledge, tools, and courage to do better.
This reality is especially clear in fields shaped by rapidly evolving technology. Exploitation networks move faster than institutions adapt, leveraging encrypted platforms, the dark web, cryptocurrency, and fragmented data systems. Without targeted training, policy development, and cross-disciplinary collaboration, investigative and legal frameworks will continue to lag behind emerging threats. These gaps are not abstract—they cost time, evidence, and sometimes safety.
At the same time, this challenge represents a powerful opportunity. We now have the tools and methodologies to detect, analyze, and disrupt harmful networks earlier than ever before. The question is whether institutions are willing to invest in education, technical expertise, and system-level thinking. Closing the gap between technological harm and institutional response is not simply a professional obligation—it is a moral one.
For women entering complex or male-dominated fields, my advice is grounded in experience: take your intelligence seriously and do not allow anyone to make you smaller to fit their comfort. Invest in your education, understand how technology and data truly work, and ask the questions others avoid. Protect your boundaries. You can be compassionate without being exploited and strong without becoming hardened.
At the end of the day, influence is not measured solely by recognition. It is measured by whether the work creates safer spaces, stronger systems, and more honest conversations. For women and survivors, influence can also mean reclaiming voice, agency, and authority in spaces that once felt inaccessible or unsafe. Healing and leadership are not opposing paths—they can and often do coexist.
Every woman who has lived through harm carries insight the world needs. Every survivor who chooses to step forward, whether publicly or quietly, is already reshaping what strength looks like. You are not defined by what happened to you, but by what you choose to build next. When women lead with integrity, intelligence, and compassion, change does not remain theoretical. It becomes real, measurable, and lasting.
That is where progress begins—not in perfection, but in courage. Not in silence, but in truth. And not alone, but together.
Dr. Melissa Maranville, PhD