Source: ampersandsrj.substack.com 8/18/25
The deck of the tuna clipper was alive with activity. A spotter scanning the horizon spotted commotion up ahead. The cacophony of seabirds always gave away the position of the catch. The engines rumbled as the captain steered the boat. The crew worked furiously, and within minutes, the net was dropped into the ocean, forming a wide circle around the flashing shapes in the water just below the surface. The bottom line was cinched tight, sealing the fish in as the water churned silver with their movement.
The crew furiously hauled the enormous catch onto the ship. Hundreds of yellowfin and skipjack tuna thrashed about, their silver bodies glinting in the sun. The water inside the circle boiled with movement, tails beating the surface in frantic bursts. The air was thick with the salty sea air and the smell of diesel. Crew members leaned over the side, hooking the larger tuna one by one and swinging them aboard with practiced precision, while others used mechanical scoops to lift entire writhing masses from the net’s heart. Each splash sent salty spray across the deck.
But not all the movement in the net was tuna. A young silky shark darted desperately along the mesh, its sleek body scraping against the lines. Nearby, a sea turtle floundered, its flippers snagged in a twisted knot, eyes wide with panic. Mixed among the larger fish were countless juveniles—tuna too small to have spawned even once—pulled up alongside their elders. The crew worked fast, cutting the turtle free and guiding it overboard, but it floated weakly before disappearing beneath the swells. Some of the smaller tuna slipped from the hooks and back into the sea, but many more landed on the deck, destined for the hold. The captain watched from the bridge; the unintended toll of the day’s work lay plainly in front of him.
That night, as the ship headed back to port with its hold full, the ocean lay quiet behind them. The crew members were grateful for the plentiful haul, but one of the younger deckhands kept thinking about the turtle. He’d grown up hearing stories from his grandfather about seas teeming with life, before industrial nets roamed so far and wide. How many other sea turtles, sharks, and other sea life were inadvertently caught in those industrial nets?
When I first heard Dr. Danielle Harris talk about the “tuna net analogy,” I was stunned by her accuracy in describing the problem we faced and floored by her ability to bring it to life with such simplistic, vivid imagery. It was the perfect analogy.
Let me explain.
Large tuna nets, like the one described in the story above, were designed to catch particular species of tuna. As I explained in my last post, sex offense registries were created with a specific type of offense in mind: those committed by individuals who engage in repeated, violent sexual crimes against children they do not know. As I noted, these types of offenses are very rare. These offenses were the intended target of modern sex crimes legislation, yet, as lawmakers popularized these policies across the United States in the 1990s, the ability of registries to “snag” only their appropriate “catch” was diminished.
That sea turtle caught in the mesh? A high school senior who …

This article doesn’t explain the relation between the article and a sex offense. See the article source:
https://ampersandsrj.substack.com/p/the-tuna-net-analogy?selection=d4218022-0f96-4198-b98e-6d85cef87251