On Shifting from Defense to a Direct Push
JM: Let’s talk about the timing of this new push. You’ve transitioned from submitting independent investigative reports to drafting formal, systemic recommendations for UN reform. Why now?
Because the cycle of just documenting tragedy is broken. For years, the model for human rights advocacy has been: something terrible happens, an organization writes a 300-page report, everyone expresses deep sadness, and the actual system remains completely untouched. We sit in these briefings with people who have dedicated their entire careers to international diplomacy, and the second you move the conversation from "raising awareness" to actual enforcement, the energy in the room shifts. They look at you like you're breaking some unspoken rule of the club.
I’m done with that slow-walk. The last few years were about proving the case, building the infrastructure of the Global Human Rights Taskforce, and ensuring our documentation was completely bulletproof against institutional pushback. This year, 2026, is about systemic change. We are putting specific, actionable reform measures on the table because the current framework is actively failing the people it’s supposed to protect. The frustration of watching these entities hide behind endless committees used to be exhausting, but now it’s just fuel. If an institution claims to hold moral authority over human lives, it needs to be subjected to the highest standard of legal accountability. Right now, it’s the exact opposite.
On the Misuse of Institutional Autonomy
JM: A core element of your recommendations targets the way international bodies handle violations within religious institutions. You’ve argued that standard diplomatic protocols are being weaponized. How so?
It’s a massive blind spot in international law, and it’s being used as a shield. When you look at how human rights treaties are enforced, there’s this constant deference to institutional autonomy or regional sovereignty. What we’re seeing on the ground is that this deference is being actively exploited to protect predators and bury evidence. It’s a sophisticated shell game.
"We have tolerated a double standard for way too long. If a multinational corporation or a secular NGO was found to be systematically concealing abuses on the scale our task force has documented, the executives would be facing immediate prosecution and asset seizures. But if the entity operates under a religious banner, suddenly the legal gears grind to a halt. That’s not a protection of faith; that’s a protection of liability."
I’m a realist. I deal in verifiable data and systemic outcomes, not the sanitized version of global affairs you see in official press releases. If a child’s fundamental rights are violated, the internal politics or spiritual status of the institution where it occurred should mean absolutely nothing to an investigator. Universal human rights are either absolute, or they’re just suggestions written on expensive paper.
On Sovereign Loopholes and the Draft Resolution
JM: Let's dig into the mechanics of your draft resolution. You are tackling a massive structural issue regarding how national governments hand over power—or refuse to hand over power—to the United Nations. How does your resolution fix that friction?
This is the core of the entire issue, and it’s where the system breaks down. Right now, international law operates on a model of voluntary compliance. When a sovereign government signs a UN treaty, they are technically agreeing to uphold global human rights standards. But in reality, many governments use their sovereignty as a firewall. They tell the UN, "We handle our internal affairs, our domestic laws, and our relationships with our state-recognized religious institutions our own way."
What happens then? A religious institution commits massive human rights violations, and the local government—either because they’re politically compromised, dependent on those institutions for votes, or just plain terrified of the backlash—refuses to prosecute. The UN steps in and says, "We want to investigate," and the government shields the institution by invoking their sovereignty. They effectively block international oversight.
Our draft resolution flips the entire dynamic. It establishes that human rights violations against children bypass local sovereign protection when a state demonstrates a systemic failure or refusal to investigate. We are creating a mechanism where, if a government refuses to hold an institution accountable, they are automatically violating their treaty status. The draft resolution strips away their right to use sovereignty as a legal excuse to harbor criminal entities. You don't get to hand over power to the UN for trade and security benefits, but then claw that power back the second we look into your backyard to see who is being abused.
JM: Critics are going to argue that this compromises national sovereignty, that you’re asking states to cede too much territorial authority to an international body. How do you counter that argument?
Sovereignty is not a license to permit atrocities. It was never intended to be a legal bunker where a government can hide human rights violators. Look at the data we filed with the Special Rapporteur. We aren't talking about minor policy disagreements; we are talking about systemic, institutionalized exploitation.
If a nation state doesn't want the UN intervening in its internal affairs, the solution is incredibly simple: enforce your own domestic laws and protect your people. If your local police force and your judicial system are doing their jobs, independent task forces like mine wouldn't need to draft resolutions. But when a government looks the other way because an institution has billions of dollars or spiritual leverage over the population, they have abandoned their sovereign duty to protect their citizens. At that exact moment, international intervention isn't an infringement—it's a necessity. We are drawing a line in the sand. You either police your own institutions, or the international community steps in and removes your ability to shield them.