Canada’s top election official is calling for sweeping changes to the country’s elections law to make sure that voter-suppressing robocalls, like the ones uncovered by Canadian Hillman Prize-winners Stephen Maher and Glen McGregor, never happen again:

OTTAWA — Chief Electoral Officer Marc Mayrand wants Parliament to overhaul Canada’s elections law to prevent deceptive telephone calls by adding stiffer penalties and giving new powers to investigators.

In a recommendation aimed directly at the calls received in Guelph, Ont., on the 2011 election day, Mayrand says Parliament should close a loophole in the Criminal Code and make it illegal to impersonate an Elections Canada official. He advises maximum penalties on conviction of violators of $250,000 in fines and five years in jail.

Read the rest in the Ottawa Citizen.

At the Hillman Foundation, we’re all about shedding light on society’s ills. Usually we hail journalists exposing white collar criminals. But today we bring you a fun piece by Justin Peters of Slate exposing a more down-market racket known as the “broken bottle scam.” In this con game, the conman bumps into the mark and starts yelling about how the mark broke his expensive bottle, or his glasses, or something else. The mark is intimidated and shamed into coughing up cash on the spot.

My favorite tip for avoiding the mark’s fate:

Extend the encounter. Here’s an interesting example of how to deal with a scammer: “Nair (Naim) Jabbar had two pairs of broken eyeglasses in a bag when cops arrested him last month. The ex-con bumped into his latest victim on W. 53rd St. and Fifth Ave., court records show. ‘You broke my glasses! You own me $125!’ Jabbar, 41, yelled. But when his victim asked him to come back to his office to figure out a solution, Jabbar slunk off, court papers said.” This strategy makes sense, and is perhaps something to consider. Who doesn’t hate going up to offices?

[Photo credit: Funkyeah, Creative Commons.]

More photos of the 2013 Canadian Hillman Prize ceremony at the Steam Whistle Brewery in Toronto, Ontario.

Photos by James Yigitoz.

Carolina Martínez came to the United States to work in the fields, hoping to earn enough to build a house in her native Mexico. The crossing was harrowing and the work was hard, to add to her burden, Martínez faced continual sexual harrassment with no recourse:

The work was hard. During planting and harvest seasons she might work 10 hours a day, six or seven days a week. But she had expected that. What she hadn’t expected was the near-constant sexual harassment on the job. The crew leader would, she says, “touch women in a sexual way… touch women on their asses.” When Martínez threatened to report him, he’d warn, “They’ll get rid of you. And if you do go to the boss, I’ll call Immigration.”

So she didn’t tell the boss. And she didn’t tell her husband either, afraid he’d be so angry that he’d pick a fight and they’d both get fired—or worse, deported. “Women have to tolerate this in silence,” she says. “Because if you talk to the owners and you lose your job, then what? Many times during lunch, I cried. I felt I was alone.” The harassment continued every day for seven months. [In These Times]

Farm workers aren’t the only female migrants who face harrassment on the job. Women who work in meat and poultry processing plants also report high rates of harassment, Joseph Sorrentino reports.

To would-be abusers, undocumented migrant women may seem like the perfect victims, targets they can mistreat without fear of repercussions. The women may not speak English, they are far from their support systems, and they are reluctant to go to the police because they are out of status.

Sorrentino’s reporting was supported by the Investigative Fund of the Nation Institute.