I know who the Scots College Three are. So do many of you. Let's stop pretending it's a secret and ask the question nobody else will: AMANDA GOFF

Published: 15:24, 18 August 2026 | Updated: 15:24, 18 August 2026 An extra-hot latte with a double shot - that's how I start my morning. A quick chat with the barista, still in my pyjamas, and the usual exchange of local news. Tuesday morning was no different. 'Terrible business involving those Scots boys,' the barista said, shaking his head. 'Everyone knows who they are,' he went on, lowering his voice and sharing their names - an act that would be criminal the moment it appeared in print. I already knew, of course. Most of Sydney's eastern suburbs know the boys, their parents, even the suburbs where they live. And it doesn't take Columbo to work it out. It's the alleged crime on everyone's lips this week: three teenagers from the elite Scots College are accused of attacking a 14-year-old girl in an alleyway on July 22. Two boys, aged 13 and 14, have each been charged with aggravated sexual assault in company and two counts of aggravated sexual touching of another person.  'I've seen the Scots College Three identified on social media. Even my barista could list their names while making my latte. The laws masking them are not fit for purpose,' writes Amanda Dr Ian Lambert (above), the headmaster of Scots College, has acknowledged the problem of the accused boys being named online, including after a family's home was vandalised by teens A third boy, 14, faces one count of aggravated sexual assault in company and two counts of aggravated sexual touching of another person. Their names have spread like wildfire through school communities, parents' WhatsApp chats, teenage social circles and unmoderated social media comments. Elite schools run on gossip. Parents talk. Teenagers listen. Screenshots are shared, some are posted online. Within hours, information meant to stay secret is everywhere. Just as I was writing this column, news broke that Arthur Tzaneros, a Scots 'Old Boy' and chief executive of ACFS Port Logistics, announced his resignation after leaked WhatsApp messages in an alumni group chat revealed his unsavoury thoughts on the alleged crime. 'Before anyone jumps to conclusions, this is no Skaf case,' he wrote, referencing the notorious Sydney gang rapes before the 2000 Olympics. He went on to call the accused boys 'deads**ts' and the alleged victim 'a willing participant'. Money clearly doesn't buy class. Or sense.  The three boys are accused of serious sexual offences. They are not convicted, and the law prohibits the media from identifying them. Arthur Tzaneros (above) announced his resignation as chief of ACFS Port Logistics after leaked WhatsApp messages in an alumni group revealed his unsavoury thoughts on the alleged crime He commented on the scandal at Scots College that has sent shockwaves through the exclusive Bellevue Hill school, which charges fees of more than $50,000 for Year 12 students  Those orders exist for a reason and the punishment for breaching them can be severe, and yet the boys' identities were leaked nonetheless. As a result, one family home was vandalised over the weekend. Arrests were made - this was confirmed by Dr Ian Lambert, the headmaster of Scots College. The Daily Mail even contacted the mother of one of the boys named online. Unsurprisingly, she wasn't in a convivial mood when she answered the phone.  'You know what? Tell your f**king bosses to turn off the comments so my son is not f**king harassed by people,' she shouted last Friday, furious that her boy had been named online. Her frustration and distress are understandable. But she was wrong to shoot the messenger. The cat was long out of the bag. The truth is, most teenagers - or gossipy parents - don't spend much time worrying about statutory restrictions. The idea that a TikTok post or Instagram comment could expose them to criminal liability is almost laughably remote. Kids simply don't know the potential repercussions and, likely, don't give two hoots. As someone who studied media law and knows the kind of trouble you can get into by crossing the line, I find our current situation staggering - and deeply concerning. This case isn't being fought in the courts anymore, but in the public circus of social media. There, rules are absent, restraints are few and appeals don't exist. Kids don't write 'alleged' or hesitate out of caution, knowing their posts could be illegal in Australia. As if they care. Serious allegations become facts, accused children become criminals, and a witch hunt ensues. Legal due process is ignored as utterly irrelevant. Try telling a teenage boy who spends his days scrolling past uncensored gore, relentless defamation and every imaginable form of shock content on X that he might get a slap on the wrist for naming a classmate on bail, and he'll laugh in your face. We've got a serious problem - a fundamental question about whether identification restrictions can actually work in today's online world. Honestly, it's become a farce. Someone has to say it. These laws are meant to protect everyone, including the accused, until a court finds them guilty. Yet the very harms they aim to prevent - witch-hunts, vandalism, rumour and speculation, and trial by TikTok - are already running rampant online. So what's the point of these laws now? 'We've got a serious problem - a fundamental question about whether identification restrictions can actually work in today's online world,' writes Amanda Goff  The brutal truth is the system isn't working. We're living in a new world and our laws need to catch up. Another example: remember the suppression order slapped on the 'high-profile Melbourne businessman' found guilty of rape in Victoria's County Court earlier this month? He pleaded not guilty, but for years journalists were banned from naming him. But here's the thing: when I moved to Melbourne last year, it took me two days to hear who he was: Ralph Carr, AFL manager and ex-husband of singer Tina Arena. This was more than a year before the order was lifted. Everyone knew his name. I'd read it, seen it and heard it from multiple sources. Same for convicted rapist Tom Silvagni. While his identity was still under legal suppression, I read about his case, texted a friend, and had Tom's name in less than an hour. Journalists were banned from telling the public. But people in the know were telling each other. It was a two-tiered knowledge system. The same goes for the high-profile Queensland man named in an extortion case in Cairns. He's not a party to the proceedings, but his affair with the complainant is central to the case against the accused extorter. His name was mentioned briefly in court before a suppression order was obtained. The media cannot identify him, but, again, pretty much everyone in the Sunshine State knows who he is. That is the absurdity of these laws, whether it's the statutory protections shielding the Scots College Three or the suppression orders concealing the identities of 'high-profile' men: they don't keep identities secret. They simply stop the mainstream media from reporting what's already circulating online, in WhatsApp chats, and in cafés, bars and restaurants across the country. And not only do they not work; they actually make things worse. By gagging the press, they create a vacuum filled by rumour, misidentification and amateur sleuthing that, in this case, escalated into vigilantism - with no editorial standards, fact-checking, legal advice or due diligence. I'm not arguing that everyone accused of a crime should be named. There are important reasons to protect children - victims and the accused - and an allegation is not a conviction. But suppression orders and statutory restrictions are like an invisible shield. We're all supposed to believe in the magic, except we can all see right through it. In the Scots College case, let's remember this: the boys have not been convicted of anything. They are entitled to the presumption of innocence, just as the young woman is entitled to be heard and protected.  Yet their names are being shared across Sydney's east and beyond while the media is forced to uphold the charade of secrecy. These are different times. The law - as my own teenagers would say - needs to get with the program. Sorry we are not currently accepting comments on this article.