Holyrood has hosted a UK-wide trafficking summit, full of police and prosecutors, plus representatives of the women's sector and a smattering of politicians.

The consensus was almost complete but attending as a sex worker and part of sex worker rights organisation SCOTPEP left me with an anxious sense that no-one else seemed to have spotted some crucial problems.

First, the voices of those most affected were missing from the conversation, as was the idea that these people could be holders of rights; also, the sense that either of these things could be important.

For example, while discussing people (mostly women) trafficked for domestic work, the speakers agreed that what was needed was more policing and "raising awareness". Generalised "awareness raising", especially for something as specific and relatively uncommon as trafficking, is essentially a meaningless exercise.

Entirely absent from the conversation about women trafficked into domestic labour was any sense of the importance of the wider legal context within which people migrate, work, and experience exploitation. No-one thought it worth mentioning that the UK Government recently changed the law on visas for domestic workers, meaning that these workers' rights to remain in the UK are tied to staying with the employer they first registered with. If they want to leave that employer, perhaps because that employer is abusive, exploitative or both, they automatically lose their visa. This change traps domestic workers with abusive employers.

Or consider the International Labour Organization's convention of the rights of domestic workers. Has the UK ratified it? Of course not: a glaring absence. Compared to concrete measures that would begin to give migrant domestic workers genuine rights, generalised "raising awareness" (some posters on motorways and beer mats in bars) is at best a smokescreen for doing nothing. When the "humanitarian" answer to tackling exploitation is "raising awareness" instead of guaranteeing labour rights, that merely perpetuates exploitation.

The way sex workers were talked about was particularly chilling. It was noted that many trafficked people, in particular people who are selling sex, don't identity as victims. There was no reflection on the reasons why this might be. A case study about a Romanian sex worker was discussed. She had been clear that she was not a victim, that she was happy with her life and her work, and yet, we were told: "She was a victim and she was treated as such".

No-one from the women's sector seemed troubled by a case study that presented as standard the idea that a male-dominated police force should have the final say over the words and views of a marginalised woman; that the police thought they knew better than her what was "good for her".

All women should fear this Victorian paternalism masquerading as "progressive"; furthermore, this approach makes migrant sex workers more, not less, vulnerable to violence and exploitation. It means migrant sex workers will be deeply unwilling to make contact with the police. If you want to report a stalker but fear that the police will respond to your call by putting you out of a job; arresting your manager, girlfriend or housemate; taking you to the station for lengthy and intrusive questioning against your consent; and finally disregarding your ability to judge for yourself what is right for your own life, sex workers simply will not call the police. This means the men who target us for violence know we cannot call on that protection.

Mainstream "anti-trafficking" conversations largely co-opt the good intentions of people who don't want to see migrants exploited. Smokescreens such as "raising awareness" conceal the trick whereby migrant workers' rights are eroded, not strengthened or upheld, and instead money and resources are poured into the police and border agencies - who then act coercively in the name of "fighting coercion". Migrant workers, including sex workers, need rights, not rescue.