Coercive Control Is Not ‘High Conflict’: Why Misunderstanding Domestic Abuse Puts Survivors at Risk
"“Coercive control is not a precursor to violence, but the framework within which violence becomes possible.”"
Domestic abuse is often spoken about as though it were a single phenomenon: a spectrum of behaviours that differ only in terms of degree. Violence sits at one end, emotional harm somewhere in the middle, and “high conflict” relationships hover at the edge.
This framing is inaccurate – and dangerous.
Coercive control is not just one form of domestic abuse, but categorically different. It is not defined by incidents, anger, loss of control, or even hostility. Coercive control is a strategy: a sustained pattern of domination in which one person systematically erodes another’s autonomy, reality, and sense of self.
Understanding this distinction is central to risk assessment, survivor safety, and the functioning of our family justice system.
Coercive control does not require physical violence. In fact, many perpetrators avoid it deliberately as violence can attract attention, whereas control thrives in invisibility. Yet, as researcher Dr Cassandra Wiener has shown, patterns of control are a stronger predictor of future serious harm and homicide than past acts of violence alone. Control is not a precursor to violence, but the framework within which violence becomes possible.
Physical abuse may arise from anger or impulsivity. Coercive control, purposeful and cumulative, is instrumental. The controller is not “losing control”; they are exercising it. They are aiming not to hurt in moments of conflict, but to govern another person’s life.
Unlike episodic abuse, coercive control dismantles a person’s confidence in their own perceptions. Victims are destabilised, unsure what is real, reasonable, or provable. The controller isolates the victim from friends, family, professionals, or independent decision-making. They will deny obvious facts, rewrite events, and insist the victim’s perceptions are wrong.
Coercive control can manifest itself in micro-regulation of daily life – anything from food through sleep to clothing and communication. Children often become pawns in the controller’s gameplan: in order to undermine the victim’s parental authority, the controller will use the children as leverage, lying to and about them.
I have mentored more than 100 women and men through the family court process and have come across extraordinary exploitation of children. One controller, “Bill” (a pseudonym), wanted to be consulted on all matters relating to the children, however minor, including for instance when the child could have a playdate after school, or whether he would have his flu vaccine administered nasally through a spray or via injection. Bill drove repeated litigation by submitting spurious applications regarding homework assignments, and a missed day of school because of illness.
Exhausted and destabilised by the constant litigation, his partner reported fear, confusion, self-doubt especially in her parenting. She was stunned when her children, appearing coached, reported that she was incompetent – even though she had been the primary carer for the entire marriage, and even though the school and GP found no issue with her parenting.
Unfortunately, as Bill remained calm and confident in court, the mother’s allegations were dismissed as “poor communication”, the case was framed as “high conflict” and she was required to co-parent with Bill.
The Domestic Abuse Act 2021 was an important step in recognising coercive control. The Act however continues to sit within a framework that focuses on incident-based evidence rather than behavioural patterns. This results in under-estimating the post-separation risks of coercive control. This is particularly alarming, as while many abusive behaviours reduce after separation, coercive control often intensifies, through legal systems, child arrangements, finances, and narrative control.
With another mentee I supported, the controlling behaviour had escalated post-separation. The controller, “John” (a pseudonym), began making repeated allegations timed around hearings, claiming for instance that his victim was an unsafe driver. mentally unstable, and neglected their child. John controlled information flow to professionals – insisted on being copied into everything, repeatedly challenged and corrected professionals. His victim’s appearance in court became inconsistent, defensive; traumatised.
This resulted in the focus shifting to her credibility, with professionals misinterpreting her trauma responses as instability. Coercive control was never recognised.
With coercive control acknowledged in theory but discounted in practice, the family justice system risks conflating coercive control with “high conflict” in hundreds of similar cases. Yet high-conflict relationships involve emotional volatility on both sides, leading to poor communication and escalation during disputes. Power may be uneven, but it is not systematically weaponised. One mentee I worked with spoke of being deeply wronged by her husband’s affair; while the husband felt unfairly punished. The conflict between them escalated, driven by constant clashes and litigation stress; but both continue to parent competently and children report stress but not fear of either parent.
This relationship was characterised by chronic conflict and proved toxic for the couple, but had none of the hallmarks of coercive control.
If coercive control is fundamentally about domination rather than dispute, then family justice must respond differently. The implications are enormous. For example, screening must focus on patterns of control, not incidents of violence; absence of physical harm does not equal absence of risk. Litigation abuse, financial obstruction, and narrative manipulation must be recognised as continuations of control. “Co-parenting” frameworks must be considered unsafe where coercive control is present and victim responses – inconsistency, fear, distress – must be understood as adaptive, not pathological.
Coercive control is not simply one form of domestic abuse among many. It is a unique, structural harm that predicts the most serious outcomes. When we mislabel it as conflict, we actively reproduce the conditions that allow it to continue.
Clarity – conceptual, legal, and practical – is not an academic concern. It is a safeguarding imperative.
