opinion
Texas Lawmakers: 'Let’s Help Trafficking Victims (But Not Too Much)'
Texas lawmakers are trying—again—to pass a bill that would help trafficking victims, but Governor Abbott is still worried they might accidentally legalize terrorism. Because priorities.

Published July 24, 2025 at 9:37pm

In a stunning display of legislative whiplash, Texas lawmakers are once again attempting to pass a bill that would—gasp—actually help human trafficking victims. The bill, which was previously vetoed by Governor Greg Abbott for being "too broad," is now being resurrected in a special session. Because nothing says "compassionate conservatism" like making survivors jump through legal hoops while their traffickers laugh all the way to the bank.
The original bill, SB 1278, would have allowed trafficking victims to use their abuse as a defense in court without having to prove there was a gun literally pressed against their temple at the exact moment of the crime. Radical, right? Apparently, this was too much for Abbott, who argued that the bill might accidentally excuse crimes like "raping a child" or "murdering a law enforcement officer." Because, as we all know, trafficking victims are just one loophole away from becoming supervillains.
Meanwhile, Mia Santoro, a survivor who was forced into crime by her traffickers at 16, is left wondering why the state seems more concerned about hypothetical terrorists than actual victims. "Every single day I was under duress," Santoro said, which, unfortunately for her, wasn’t enough to meet Texas’s legal standard of "imminent threat." Apparently, years of abuse don’t count unless it’s happening in real-time, like some kind of sadistic livestream.
Abbott, ever the pragmatist, has asked lawmakers to "narrowly tailor" the bill, because nothing says "justice" like parsing the exact moment a victim’s trauma becomes legally admissible. Advocates, including some conservatives, are hopeful for a compromise, but let’s be real—this is Texas. The same state that pardoned a man who murdered a BLM protester faster than you can say "election year."
Santoro, now 25 and still on probation, is fighting for the bill not for herself, but for the "next little Mia." Because in Texas, the only thing harder than escaping a trafficker is convincing the government you deserved to survive. Stay tuned for the next episode of Legislative Theater, where lawmakers pretend to care about victims while doing the absolute least to help them.