Tim Ballard
and
Operation Underground Railroad


Community and Exclusivity


Research consistently finds that the need to belong is a fundamental human drive, and OUR (Operation Underground Railroad) fulfilled this by offering people a deep sense of purpose and identity within a heroic mission. By framing the fight against trafficking as a battle between good and evil, OUR created a compelling moral narrative that made supporters feel like they were actively saving lives. This sense of belonging was reinforced through a strong community of like-minded individuals, hands-on engagement, and an urgent call to action. For many, being part of OUR wasn’t just about supporting a cause—it was a form of identity work, shaping their sense of self, purpose, and belonging. It provided meaning, connection, and the feeling of being on the right side of history. OUR films and fundraisers created an atmosphere reminiscent of a religious tent revival, reinforcing a shared moral mission and deepening participants’ emotional and ideological investment. Fans were “galvanized to proselytize on its behalf, spreading the word about the dangers and rampant devastation of child trafficking — and, most of all about OUR and [the gospel of] its all-important rescue missions” [80].

Evangelism has been an integral part of OUR’s marketing strategy. At the end of the “Sound of Freedom,” movie goers were urged to “pay it forward” by buying movie tickets for others on a website [6]. In that way other people could use the tickets to see the movie. Whether people took advantage of the free tickets is unclear, but it is reported that the tactic resulted in empty theaters, manipulating data regarding the film’s popularity. Movie goers were enlisted to “make ‘Sound of Freedom’ the Uncle Tom’s Cabin of 21st century slavery” [63]. For many, OUR related events engender a feeling of a “divinely mandated, responsibility” [80]. Christian religious rhetoric is frequently employed, such as “God’s Children are not for Sale,” and “the miracles are insane” [63, 16, 17]. If you have seen the movie and/or support Tim Ballard, you become part of a community who believes they are doing God’s work and have exclusive access to the “truth” about sex trafficking and rescuing children. Within this “in-group” is a prevailing sense of persecution [23]. A fan “mc.kw918” on Instagram recently shared a common sentiment, “When you’re doing what God called you to do… all the demons in hell come against you!!! KEEP STANDING…KEEP DOING WHAT YOU KNOW GOD CALLED YOU TO DO!”

Social psychologist Roy Baumeister indicates, “People form social attachments readily under most conditions and resist the dissolution of existing bonds” [11]. When individuals commit to a group or ideology, admitting they were wrong becomes increasingly difficult as several psychological factors come into play. Cognitive dissonance makes it uncomfortable to recognize contradictions between beliefs and reality, leading people to rationalize their views rather than acknowledge misinformation and mistakes. Confirmation bias reinforces this by causing individuals to seek information that supports their views while dismissing contradictory evidence. Additionally, system justification theory explains that people are motivated to defend existing structures, making it harder to accept flaws in their own group or beliefs. Finally, social identity theory explains that when group membership is deeply intertwined with our self-concept, admitting fault can feel like a personal threat. Together, these factors make it more likely that individuals will double down on their commitments rather than reconsider them, even in the face of clear evidence.


Control of Incentives


Laurence Lannaccone explores the success of sectarian movements, and although Ballard was not associated with a particular sect, his ideologies resonated with conservative Christians [52]. In line with Lannaccone’s research, Ballard and OUR flourished because they provided hope in an insecure world. Additionally, Ballard and his close allies benefitted from a symbiotic social network. Ballard established long-term friendships and formed joint ventures with his most prominent supporters. The mission of Ballard and OUR inspired some people to list OUR on their wedding registry and request donations to OUR for their birthday. A countless number of volunteers have worked passionately and tirelessly, some even part-time and full time. While there is not an official membership, there are levels of involvement. People can start with simply being supportive of OUR’s cause. Beyond that they can donate money, join a club, become a registered volunteer, “rep the cause” by buying and wearing OUR apparel, and become involved in fundraising [68]. All of these allow one to become part of a passionate community that is thought to be making a difference. Furthermore, those who were selected to participate in OUR training were awarded a certificate of completion [57]. If people paid enough, were famous, or useful in some way, they could have the opportunity to go on a “rescue operation” [64, 57, 21], and with that came a level of prestige and a type of savior status [5]. In summary, increased levels of involvement were incentivized by community, recognition, status, personal growth, and skill development.

What’s more, Ballard enjoyed a large salary that was disclosed and likely an even larger one that was not [83]. Top executives also received large salaries. This may have consciously and unconsciously incentivized them to not disclose compromising information, as it has been alleged that OUR was “complicit or negligent in [Ballard’s] actions” [28, 29]. In addition, employees and those involved in “operations” were required to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement (NDA). By requiring individuals to sign a NDA, Ballard and OUR controlled people’s incentive to share incriminating information for fear of legal consequences. One victim’s husband testified that he had “seen firsthand the devastation that NDAs cause in allowing evil to thrive in silence” [71-76].

Ballard rewarded conformity and punished dissent. When long-time ally Paul Hutchinson did not agree with Ballard’s proposed business model, referred to as the “white board plan,” he says he was blacklisted. In 2023, he spoke out publicly against Ballard [44]. Ballard sent him a “cease and desist” letter [44]. Controlling incentives through fear was a particularly useful tactic with the women who accompanied Ballard on “operations.” The women were motivated to follow Ballard’s instructions to avoid danger. They also did not want to risk failing at their “mission” to save children. Because Ballard promoted a narrative that reinforced his authority, the women were more likely to dismiss their concerns and intuition, placing their trust in him instead. He was, after all, the expert and the very visible signals of “social proof” reinforced this. In court documents, it describes Ballard’s sexual assault victims feeling concerned, responsible and sorry for him [71-76]. After all, it seemed he had suffered, and sacrificed so much. This emotional manipulation led Ballard’s female victims to act in ways that went against their own best interests.

Ballard and many of his endorsers had a symbiotic relationship—he bolstered their visibility and “good guy/gal” image, while their support lent him credibility. This dynamic incentivized loyalty, making people eager to interview him, invite him to speak, fundraise on his behalf, volunteer, and evangelize for OUR. The mutual reinforcement created an echo chamber of validation, where questioning his methods or legitimacy risked alienation from a powerful network of influence. Skepticism wasn’t just dismissed as cynicism; it was treated as complicity with the very evil OUR claimed to fight, with critics sometimes labeled as enablers—or even pedophiles themselves.


Control of Incentives: Third Party Punishment


Although fans and followers of Ballard and OUR do not live in a commune and are technically free to withdraw their support, the social and reputational costs of doing so could be severe. Third-party punishment—whereby individuals enforce group loyalty by attacking dissenters—serves to maintain ideological conformity and discourage criticism [48, 62]. Writer and critic Miles Klee faced severe backlash for his review of “The Sound of Freedom,” recounting that that “the intensity of the death threats and pedophile smears outstripped any previous hate campaign I’ve experienced in my career” [49]. He explains, “For them I’m just a convenient embodiment” of evil for “a demographic that thinks child abusers and groomers make up the entire government, entertainment industry, and media, and all run cover for each other” [49].

This reaction reflects a broader pattern: criticizing or questioning Ballard was framed as an attack on the fight against child trafficking itself. As a result, skeptics risked being framed as members of the “outgroup”—labeled as pedophiles, enablers, or part of an elite conspiracy to hide the truth [91, 92, 40]. This dynamic created a chilling effect, ensuring that even reasonable concerns about OUR’s practices or legitimacy were met with swift and aggressive retaliation.


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