As the FIFA World Cup concludes, conversations about human trafficking and sexual exploitation continue to be in the spotlight. Alongside the excitement of a global sporting event comes a familiar response: awareness campaigns, hotel signage, law enforcement operations, and calls for the public to report suspicious activity.

These efforts are highly visible. But visibility is not the same thing as effectiveness.
For years, I have worked alongside young people who have experienced commercial sexual exploitation. During that time, I have watched enormous resources go toward public awareness efforts. What I have seen far less often is meaningful discussion about whether these interventions actually improve safety.

Consider the trafficking awareness campaigns now common in airports.
My daughter and I have traveled through airports displaying signs encouraging people experiencing trafficking to use a hand signal or alert airport staff. Curious about how the system worked, we asked employees about the campaigns. Many had never heard of the hand signals referenced on the signs. Others did not know what resources would be available if someone disclosed they were being exploited.

The signs were visible. The response system was far less clear.

I have seen similar examples in hotels, where awareness materials are technically present but placed in locations where few people are likely to notice them. Their existence allows us to point to action. Whether they create safety is another question.

To be clear, awareness has value. Public education matters. But awareness is not the same thing as prevention, and it is not the same thing as intervention.

The same concern applies to highly publicized enforcement operations and raids.

After major sporting events, headlines often focus on the number of arrests made or the number of people “rescued.” These stories generate attention and create the impression of progress. Yet they rarely answer the most important question:

What happens next?

Do the young people involved have stable housing? Access to healthcare? Income? Transportation? Childcare? Educational opportunities? Six months later, are they safer? A year later, are they safer?

Arrest numbers are easy to count. Long-term outcomes are harder to measure. But if our goal is reducing exploitation, outcomes matter far more than headlines.

Here in Oakland, organizations like MISSSEY see every day that exploitation is rarely the result of one bad decision or one trafficker. It grows out of unmet needs: housing instability, poverty, family violence, lack of access to healthcare, and systems that fail young people long before exploitation begins.

The reality is that exploitation thrives where there are gaps: gaps in housing, economic opportunity, healthcare, education, family support, and community connection. Young people who lack stable housing, food security, trusted adults, or viable ways to support themselves are more vulnerable to exploitation than those who have those resources.

That reality should push us to ask a harder question.

Why do we spend so much time discussing traffickers and so little time discussing the conditions that make exploitation possible in the first place?

The World Cup will end. The conditions that leave young people vulnerable to exploitation will not. If Oakland, the Bay Area, and California are serious about preventing exploitation, we should continue educating the public. But we should also demand evidence that our interventions are working.

We should measure more than awareness. We should measure safety.

Because the question is not whether we can create more campaigns, posters, or press conferences. The question is whether fewer young people are being exploited as a result.