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Who investigates injustice when it happens in war zones and is captured on TikTok or Instagram? And what kind of footage counts as legal evidence? These are the central questions in the PhD research of criminologist Isabella Regan, affiliated with the Criminology section of Erasmus School of Law. In a time when online investigations by civilians, AI, and deepfakes are reshaping the legal landscape, she examines the shifting power dynamics between public and private actors in the investigation of international crimes.

From injustice to research

Isabella’s interest in justice started early. “My mum  recently found an old school project I did on slavery,” she says. “I wrote it in secondary school. Pretty heavy topic, but apparently that sense of justice was already there.” She studied criminology in Amsterdam, specializing in international crimes, and went on to work for Amnesty International. From the Netherlands, she supported local NGOs in Africa and the Middle East in developing their own research and reporting skills. “It was impactful work,” she says. “But also confronting. You see how important evidence can be, and how hard it is to be heard. Not everyone gets access to formal justice systems, let alone to the table where decisions are made.” These questions, of legitimacy, access, and power, eventually pulled her back into academia. “I wanted to better understand who is seen as a credible source, and who is systematically left out.”

The case that stuck

In 2018, Isabella came across  about international investigators who traced a video of a murder of women and children back to the Cameroonian military. The footage was publicly available, and it brought the truth to light. “Those soldiers were eventually convicted. And it wasn’t police or prosecutors who did the investigation, it was citizens, journalists, and activists. That stuck with me.”

The field has changed rapidly since. In conflicts like Syria or Ukraine, the internet is flooded with digital evidence: videos, satellite images, social media posts. Everything is recorded, everything is available. And yet often out of reach for those seeking justice. “What footage can we trust? Who is believed? And who decides what counts as evidence?”

Footage that can reveal, or deceive

Isabella’s work sits at the intersection of technology, criminal law, and human rights. “Public institutions, like police or international tribunals, often have easier access to data from social media platforms. But NGOs are often closer to what's actually happening on the ground. Traditional imbalances between public and private actors can create an uneven playing field.”

At the same time, NGOs are rapidly professionalizing. They now use protocols, invest in tech, and build their own archives. “They have to move quickly to secure evidence before platforms delete it. But that speed also demands structure and coordination, which adds complexity.”

That evolution raises questions about legitimacy, independence, and access. Especially now that deepfakes and AI are undermining the credibility of visual evidence. “Without clear agreements on verification and collaboration, the same image can either reveal or mislead.”

Between university and practice

For Isabella, the university is more than a place for theory. In earlier projects, she researched digital civilian investigations in the Netherlands and explored the relationship between citizens and the police. “That was a great starting point. It showed that many of the issues I now study internationally, are already visible locally.”

At the same time, she wants to stay connected to practice. “We’re seeing more hybrid collaborations between universities and NGOs. That bridge, between critical thinking and practical support, suits me well.”

What does ‘Law Meets Business’ mean to you?

“When I first heard the term, I immediately thought of tech companies,” Isabella says. “But I quickly realized that citizen investigators, activists, and NGOs are starting to function more and more like a business. Not commercially, but professionally.”

They need funding, use standardized methods, and try to align with formal legal systems. “That makes their work bigger and more impactful, but it also comes with obligations and dependencies. My research lives right in those tensions between power, legitimacy, and collaboration.”

And finally

Isabella hopes to defend her PhD in 2026. “I’ve set a clear cutoff point: my casework ends when Trump started his second term. The world changed so drastically after that, it would deserve a new study.”

What comes next is still open but the direction is clear. “My research isn’t just about systems. It’s about people. How they work together, where things get complicated, and what that means for justice. That’s what I want to keep focusing on, whether that is inside or outside the university.”