Deepfakes are no longer a distant, science-fiction concept; they are a real and terrifyingly intimate form of violation happening in schools, homes, and communities across Queensland. At their core, deepfakes are photos, videos, or audio recordings of real people that have been edited using artificial intelligence to create false and often sexually explicit depictions of them. When these images are made without a person’s consent, they become a weapon of image-based abuse, designed to humiliate, control, and silence victims. For too long, Queensland’s laws have only prohibited the distribution of such material, leaving the actual creation of deepfakes in a troubling legal gray area. That is why Attorney-General Deb Frecklington has introduced new legislation to slam shut this loophole, making it a criminal offence to create non-consensual, sexually explicit deepfake images or audio. This is a major shift in how the law understands harm. It says clearly that the act of manufacturing a fake, sexualised version of a real person is itself a crime, not just the act of sharing it. As Ms Frecklington explained, offenders have exploited this gap in the law to create harmful and exploitative content without facing the full consequences. She spoke passionately about doing this for every victim of a “vile form of weaponisation” that has the potential to wreak psychological, emotional, and even life-endangering harm. These are not empty words. The trauma of seeing your own face imposed onto explicit material can feel like a violation of your very identity, and the knowledge that such an image exists, even if never shared, can be terrifying. The legislation is a powerful step toward recognising that dignity and bodily autonomy do not end in the digital world.
The new laws introduce a maximum penalty of three years in jail for adults who create non-consensual deepfakes, and 18 months behind bars for children who commit the same offence. These penalties matter because they signal that this is not a harmless prank or a minor offence; it is a serious crime with serious consequences. By criminalising the creation itself, the legislation closes the loophole that allowed perpetrators to avoid accountability simply because they were not the ones who hit “send.” For years, offenders could manufacture abusive material, keep it in private folders, share it with a select few, or use it to blackmail and threaten victims, while arguing that the law only punished distribution. This bill changes that. It holds the creator responsible for the harm they have caused, not just the final act of spreading it. The penalties also send a clear deterrent message to anyone who might think that creating a fake explicit image is clever or harmless. It is not. It is a deliberate act of violence against another person’s reputation and sense of safety. For adult offenders, a three-year sentence is a serious acknowledgment of the damage done. For children, the 18-month maximum reflects a recognition that young people can also cause immense harm, while still leaving room for rehabilitation. This is not about being overly harsh; it is about making sure that every person understands that technology cannot be used as a shield for cruelty. The law is finally catching up with the reality of how abuse is being committed in the digital age.
Nowhere is this threat more urgent than in Queensland schools. Ms Frecklington has described schools as being on the frontline of this issue, and rightly so. Deepfakes are increasingly being used to cyberbully students and even teachers, with harmful content generated to mock, shame, and isolate people in some of the most vulnerable stages of their lives. The Attorney-General said she had consulted with stakeholders across the sector, including with the parent of a girl who died by suicide after being targeted by image-based abuse. This heartbreaking detail gives the legislation a human face. It is not just about legal definitions and penalties; it is about real lives, real grief, and real families left shattered by the cruelty of others. Ms Frecklington told parliament that the proposed changes had been applauded by Emma Mason, whose daughter Tilly died after she was bullied on social media, including through the use of fake nude imagery. No parent should ever have to bury their child because of something that was fabricated by an abuser online. Tilly’s story is a painful reminder that deepfakes are not just “fake” images; they are real weapons that can push people to the edge of despair. When teachers and students are targeted, the damage spreads through entire school communities, creating an environment of fear and mistrust. The legislation is a step toward protecting the most vulnerable and sending a message that schools must be places of safety, not arenas for digital abuse. It is a recognition that the fight against bullying must include the fight against AI-facilitated harassment.
A recent case highlights exactly why this legislation is so desperately needed. Antonio Rotondo, a 56-year-old man, was found guilty of more than a dozen charges for creating and distributing sexualised deepfake images of current and former Brisbane high school students and staff. The details of his crimes are deeply disturbing. Rotondo deliberately used publicly available photographs of real women and girls, including a 13-year-old child, and used technology to fabricate sexualised images of them. These were not faceless strangers to him; they were people whose images he stole from the internet and twisted into grotesque, non-consensual sexual content. Yet, as Ms Frecklington pointed out, under the existing laws, he could not be punished for the act of creating these images. Only the distribution was illegal. This is an absurd and dangerous gap in the legal system. It means that a person who secretly creates a fake explicit image of a child could go unpunished for the creation itself, as long as they did not distribute it. That is not justice. The harm in such cases begins at the moment of creation, not at the moment of sharing. The victim’s image has been violated, their privacy invaded, and their autonomy stripped away, all without their knowledge or consent. Rotondo’s case is a chilling example of how ordinary people can become targets simply because their photos are online. It also demonstrates the urgent need for laws that focus on the original act of abuse, rather than only the aftermath.
The bill also modernises the law in important ways to keep pace with evolving technology. It introduces a new definition of “intimate audio material,” which means that non-consensual deepfake audio, such as cloned voices saying sexually explicit things, will also be covered. Additionally, it modernises the definition of “intimate image” to explicitly include “non-genuine” images. This is crucial because it ensures that perpetrators cannot escape accountability by using technicalities or clever defences. For example, an abuser might argue that an image does not meet the legal definition of an intimate image because the victim is depicted in an impossible setting, or because emojis are used to obscure a part of the image, or because a digital filter has been applied. The new law closes these loopholes by making clear that a fake or manipulated image can still be an intimate image if it is sexually explicit and non-consensual. This is a huge victory for common sense and for victim dignity. The law should not require a victim to prove that the abuse they suffered fits into a narrow, outdated definition. Instead, it should focus on the experience of the victim and the intent of the perpetrator. By expanding the definitions, Queensland is acknowledging that abuse can take many forms, and that the law must be flexible enough to respond to the creativity of abusers. It also sends a message that technological manipulation will not be treated as a trick or a joke, but as a serious criminal offence.
Ultimately, this legislation is about much more than legal texts and penalties. It is about sending a strong message that non-consensual deepfake creation is unacceptable in any form. It is about standing with victims, listening to their stories, and saying, “You are not alone, and those who have hurt you will be held accountable.” The Attorney-General’s words echo this sentiment, reminding us that the harm caused by deepfakes can be psychological, emotional, and even life-threatening. By criminalising the creation of sexually explicit deepfakes, Queensland is taking a significant step forward in protecting the dignity and safety of its residents. The law cannot undo the pain that victims have already suffered, and it cannot bring back those who have been lost to suicide. But it can serve as a powerful deterrent, a source of justice, and a symbol of societal commitment to respect and safety. As technology continues to evolve, so too must our laws and our compassion. This bill is a reminder that behind every deepfake is a real person, and that their right to control their own image is worth protecting. It is a hopeful development in a time when the digital world often feels lawless and dangerous. By closing this loophole, Queensland is saying clearly that cruelty is never acceptable, and that the creation of fake, explicit content is a crime with real consequences. This is a victory for all those who believe in justice, dignity, and the right to live free from fear.