The Quest for Consent Culture

As I mentioned last week, I find the word "rape" anachronistic in a country where for almost thirty years, "sexual assault" has been the official descriptor for non-consensual sexual touching and violence.

It is for this reason that I was originally so shocked and repulsed when I heard the term "rape culture" used to describe the complex and pervasive attitudes toward sex - and, usually, toward women - that not only enable and excuse sexual assault, but also make it difficult for people to gauge what sexual assault even is. My response was along the lines of "wait just a minute! Sure, we have all these culture-wide problems with sexual assault, but isn't 'rape culture' a bit much? What's next - 'murder culture?' 'Pillage culture?'" [Well, perhaps. But those are topics for another day]

Precisely because this culture and these attitudes have grown out of many aspects of our culture and society, all of which overlap and feed into each other, I think it is overly reductive and a bit misleading to call it "rape culture". It's a shorthand term that works well for the people who already know what it is, but it is problematic.

One term that has developed to describe the antithesis of "rape culture" is "consent culture". Consent is required, we say. With consent, we can all have good sex, positive sex, and we can eradicate sexual assault. But to do this we must address the greater issue of what "consent" really means, and how we as individuals and as a society have fostered an environment in which true consent is rarely sought, and in which we often lack the power, knowledge, and skills to exercise our autonomy in determining whether we consent. It often appears as though consent doesn't fit well within our established framework for dealing with sex. That framework itself needs to be changed before consent will take root and work.

What follows is simply a collection of my experiences and observations with regard to the ways in which our culture stymies consent, followed by my take on how we can foster consent. Throughout, I will refer to women and men in a very gender-binary way, in which sexual assault is done to women by men (who frequently have no idea that what they are doing is a problem). I am doing this because this is usually - but by no means always - the way in which sexual assault occurs, and I think that this is so precisely because of the way in which our culture and society create and enforce gender, and influence sex.


1 - Objectification is a Real Thing

The notion of the objectification of women has probably been done to death, to the point where, like saying "tartlets" too many times, it seems to lose all meaning. But that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. It does, and it has serious repercussions on how we act and interact.

Women's bodies, first of all, are discussed as almost inert objects, separate from their minds and identities, in a way that men's bodies are usually not. The clearest way in which this is illustrated is simply the frequency with which we say "women's bodies" as opposed to "women". We often view sex in terms of men seeking access to and use of women's bodies. That entire phrase "access to and use of women's bodies" frames bodies as things, under the possession and control of women, that others may use or have access to. That is objectification.

One example of this notion of a woman's body comes up in the context of breastfeeding. Women who are pro-breastfeeding frequently say things like "breasts are for the baby", while one reason women give for not breastfeeding is that their breasts are "for my husband". Even when women are breastfeeding, men's access to breasts remains at issue. Men comment that they are looking forward to "getting them back" when the child weans. This dialogue around breasts as belonging to or being earmarked for men and babies seems ridiculous if a woman's breasts are simply a part of her, but it is a dialogue that fits nicely with our overarching assumption that women's bodies are things that can be accessed and used by others.

This notion of women's bodies as things emerges again and again within the discussion of consent.

2 - "Bad Touch" and Blame: Children Are Told to Refuse Them, Women to Accept Them

When I was a little girl, I was indoctrinated as only a child of the ‘80s could be in the fear of molestation. The concept of child molestation had come to the forefront when I was quite young, and I was subjected to all kinds of well meaning education at school and at home on how to identify and report “bad touching”. The refrain ad nauseum in teaching children about molestation was “it’s usually someone you know – a relative, or a teacher, or a coach.” This is a true statement, generally, and it is one of many that should carry over into how we approach sexual assault, but it doesn't.

The second true statement in my childhood education regarding molestation was that "bad touching" might feel wrong, or bad, and might make us feel sick or scared. However, it was not framed for us as being painful or violent. This was largely, I suspect, because they did not want to unduly frighten us - certainly, molestation may be painful and violent - but it also underscored for us the fact that molestation was bad and wrong when it made us feel bad, regardless of actual pain or violence. This, too, is a statement that should carry over into our approach to sexual assault, but does not.

The third true statement regarding molestation is that molesters may blame children for inviting molestation, or that the child may feel guilty or ashamed, or at fault. As children, we were taught that this was never the case, that it was not our fault. Again, this is an approach that should be taken in dealing with sexual assault, but it is not.

Of course, people may balk at a comparison between child molestation and sexual assault (children can never consent! Adult women can! Children don't have the cognitive and physical ability to protect themselves! Women do! Child molesters are sickos and perverts - heterosexual men just want to have sex with women, the way normal dudes do!). And of course, the vast majority of us have no intention of "molesting" another person when we touch them. But the fact is that without consent, the resulting harm can be similar, whether or not that was the intent. Furthermore, the lessons taught to us as kids regarding molestation actually transfer very well to dealing with sexual assault:

• Say "no" firmly to unwanted touching - not just violent or aggressive or painful touching, but anything that feels wrong and that you don't want or like.
• Physically get away from the person doing the touching.
• Don't blame yourself, or think this is something you should be ashamed of.

Unfortunately, attempts to follow these steps in dealing with unwanted touching generally don't work. A large part of the problem is that, concurrent to being told that we shouldn't let adults molest us, we are told from childhood that we should want to be wanted, we should be nice, we should be polite, we shouldn't be rude, or hurt anyone's feelings. Our own desires and feelings are generally not addressed, because they are not relevant to the dialogue. We are taught that our bodies are objects (see #1 above) of interest and desire, and that it is going to be up to us to grant or deny access to our bodies, to defend them against harms, as graciously as possible. Which, I argue, has absolutely nothing to do with consent.

Having been thoroughly educated in how to avoid molestation, as a child I kept my guard up around adult men. Interestingly, nobody had told me that the same rules should apply in my interactions with other children. This meant that I when I was confronted with other kids doing the exact things to me as I'd been warned adults might try, I was flummoxed. At first, I tried to deal with it the way I'd been taught: when I was about 10, my friend’s 14-year-old brother pinned me to the floor in their basement and tickled me, with his thigh between my legs. I didn’t want to play with him, I didn’t like being grabbed by him, and I certainly did not want to be tickled by him. I said, "stop it" and "no", but he laughed and didn't stop. I felt scared and threatened, so I grabbed the nearest thing I could, which happened to be a small hand weight, and hit him between the legs with it. I couldn’t get much leverage, pinned flat on my back, but I made contact. For this, he called me a “crazy little bitch,” and told his mother what had happened. Her response was to scold me about the damage a girl can do to a boy’s sensitive parts if she’s not careful. I didn't know how to react. I felt awful, mostly because I felt that getting in trouble for this was unfair, but also because I had hurt him, and really he hadn't hurt me. I came away from the experience doubting myself, thinking that maybe I'd overreacted.

This was certainly not the last time something like this happened. Nor is my story unique; it is one example of how children, mostly girl children, begin to learn that their attempts to defend against unwanted touching have to fit into a certain framework. We quickly learn that saying "no" is next to useless when it comes to warding off unwanted touch, because the person touching us will ignore us, or try to bargain with us, or will coerce us. Often, the person touching us is older, or more powerful physically or socially. This may mean that they exert enough social pressure to preclude us from even feeling able to say "no". We don't want them to touch us, but we are diffident and uncertain in our resistance, because they have some measure of power over us.

[By the way, if you doubt the prevalence of this, reflect on your own experiences from childhood. Not with respect to being touched, necessarily, but with respect to being pressured or coerced into doing things you didn't want to do by more popular or powerful kids. Despite what we tell children about resisting peer pressure, the potential consequences of not giving in are dire from a child's perspective. This is no less true for kids being pressured into letting other kids touch them in ways they don't want, and it happens as frequently. The difference is that, just as the lessons for resisting molestation have not been adequately applied to sexual assault by peers, neither have the lessons for resisting peer pressure and bullying.]

So, a blunt "no" is often ineffectual, and physical resistance may be ineffectual or earn us a reprimand - or worse. Repeated polite refusals are often met with renewed efforts but, despite the fact that we are attempting to resist unwanted touch, we've been told that we're expected not to be rude or hurtful while we're doing it. Why is this? In most contexts, when someone else repeatedly tries to do something to us that we don't want them to, we are permitted to be firm in making them stop. We can even use proportionate force to defend ourselves, under law. And yet, when it comes to sexual touch, polite resistance is considered an invitation to keep trying, and firm resistance is considered rude, bitchy, unfair, or inappropriate. We end up walking a thin and shifting line between acquiescing behaviour, and behaviour that society views as anti-social, and the people whose advances we are resisting often wield enough power and control over us that resistance is hazardous.

By the time we are teenagers, let alone adult women, we are already learning that in fact we are going to be pressured and coerced into putting up with bad touching, but that when we complain about it we will be blamed for having put up with it.

This situation is also harmful to those who want to touch us, because our culture has given everyone very contradictory information about what is or is not consent. It is for this reason that our present "consent-confused" culture fosters sexual assault.

3 - Entitlement Precludes Consent

Why? Why are women so frequently touched nonconsensually? It comes down to entitlement. When you sexually touch someone else without considering whether they are consenting, you are disregarding their feelings and their rights in order to do a thing you feel like doing. You are putting your own desire to touch them above their right to physical autonomy. And here's the thing: you cannot simultaneously think that you are entitled as a matter of right to touch another person, and also think of them as a whole and autonomous person. In the event that you disagree, think of it this way: is there anyone else, other than arguably a very small child who relies on you for sustenance, who is entitled, as a matter of right, to touch you whether or not you want them to?

I am not suggesting this is a conscious decision or consideration. It is the product of growing up and living in a culture in which women have these things, their bodies, which are desired and pursued as if they were things (note: desiring and being desired, being pursued and pursuing, are all wonderful interpersonal interactions. What I am talking about is desiring and pursuing another person's body in much the same way one would desire or pursue a car, or a sandwich, or some other object).

Our current culture is no stranger to entitlement; it is one of the favoured laments about young people today. It is also, I would suggest, almost intrinsically disrespectful of others. It is what we used to call selfishness, the idea that "I deserve this", which is usually cast up against an (often unspoken) "even though" - even though others can't have it, even though I can't really afford it, even though it isn't good for me. We "treat" ourselves, and we "spoil" ourselves, in a selfish way. This is what entitlement is, and it's bad enough when it is with respect to attitude and material acquisition, but it is far worse when it is exercised with respect to touching other people whether other people really want you to or not.

Of course, this idea of putting one's own desires above another's physical autonomy is the result of a deeper, and to my mind surprising, sort of entitlement. It is the idea that men have both a need and a right to have sex. Men are entitled to sex. It is their due, somehow, and bad things will happen if they don't get it.

I have chided men when they've claimed that repeated demanding, wheedling, coaxing, and otherwise pressuring for sex (including non-verbally) is okay. I try to explain that consent is not really there when they've had to resort to those measures. The response I've gotten, apart from a lot of "hey, whoa now!" and "you're crazy" looks, has often been a half-joking "well, if I didn't, I'd never have sex at all!"

First off, bullshit. Consensual sex is not a unicorn. Meet people, treat them and talk to them as people, respect them, and sooner or later one of them will actively want to have sex with you. What you mean to say is that without pestering women, you would not have sex as often as you want to, or with some of the people that you want to, and to that I say: bullshit. You should be having consensual sex.

Second off, so what? So what if my "first off" was wrong, and you never have sex at all? If pressuring the uninterested into unwanted sexual touching is the only way you ever have sex, then you never have sex, and that's fine. I dare you to call up any human rights lawyer on the planet and tell them that your right to get laid is being infringed by women who don't want you to touch them. Please record their response. You have no absolute right to have sex.

That pressuring for sex, even if the other person doesn't want to, is also immature. I almost never give in to my kids when they beg and plead for a piece of candy or a toy, although there have been rare moments when I've caved and just given up and let them have it. After all, they are children, who are being trained out of this behaviour, because it is not acceptable behaviour. And what I have ultimately given to them has been a thing, an object. And yet our society seems to not only tolerate but encourage the exact same behaviour in grown men, when what they are after is not a food item or a trinket, but the opportunity to touch a woman in extremely intimate, sensitive, personal places and ways.

Now, I realize that this seems at odds with something people often want, which is to be pursued, persuaded, and seduced. And if you can, through your charms and your wiles, make another person see you in a way that makes them really want to have sex with you, that's fantastic (no getting them drunk or high, though, because then they can't consent, natch). However, getting a woman to put up with unwanted sexual touching does not constitute getting her to consent. If you aren't sure of the distinction between these things, you need to be cautious and not proceed unless you are sure she's consenting.

4 - Consent is Not Permission, nor Does it Pass From One Person to Another

We seem to think, as a society, that "consent" is synonymous with "permission". It is not. It is not a checkpoint to cross. Part of the confusion here likely stems from consent in the medical context, in which a patient will consent to undergoing a procedure. In that context, the effect of consent is to give the practitioner permission to touch the patient's body.

But in the context of sex, consent should not be permission. It is not a visa stamp, given from the consenting party to the other, allowing the other access. Again, this way of looking at "getting consent" as "getting permission to touch sexually" stems from our notion that women are the custodians of female bodies, objects, access to which they can grant or withhold. It makes sense in the context of things: "Hey, can I ride your bike?" "Hey, mind if I read your newspaper?" "Hey, mind if I wear that blue sweater of yours tonight?" These are all questions to which an affirmative answer is a permission. Once permission is given, the item is used by the asker.

It is wholly bizarre that this sort of exchange is applied, routinely, to sexual relations. If I'm not crazy about the idea of you borrowing my sweater, but you wheedle and pester and I finally give in, well then you wear my sweater for a while (and hopefully return it undamaged). I don't feel you wearing my sweater - after all, my sweater is not me. But in the context of sexual touching, then what you have wheedled and pestered to be able to touch is ... me. And, again, the most intimate, sensitive, personal parts of me. And instead of a stained sweater or a broken bicycle, the person who is "permitting" access stands a very real chance of coming away pregnant or infected. It is one thing if they actually choose to engage in the activity, but because of the risks involved and the very personal and intimate nature of sex, the standard should be higher than mere permission.

In any other activity that two people engage in together, "permission" does not describe the response. "Agreement" does. Take the following:

"Hey, I want to play shuffleboard with you. Do you want to play it with me?"
"Yes, I do!"
"Cool!"

Or:

"Hey, I want to eat a meal with you. Do you want to eat a meal with me?"
"No thanks."
"Okay!"

One of the worst analogies to rape I've heard, and one that gets bandied about a lot, is the car theft one. A woman entering a "risky" situation allegedly is like a Porsche owner leaving their car in a dark alley unlocked. Sure, the thief is wrong to take it, but the owner bears some responsibility for having been so careless (again, a woman's body is a thing she owns, like people own cars, and both are similarly coveted). But the fancy precious car example works in a different way: imagine the degree of care and respect you would exercise in touching and using someone else's fancy car, or expensive guitar, or even their house. Imagine how certain you would want to be that the owner of that thing was cool with you using it. Now apply a much higher standard with regard to how cool someone is with you touching them sexually, because that involves not one of their possessions, but their very person.

I don't mean to oversimplify. And I readily acknowledge that sometimes we all agree to engage in consensual activities that we aren't that keen on (including sex), for all kinds of reasons. But we agree, we don't give permission, and agreement should be the standard. That is what verifying that all of the people involved are consenting means. And in order to do that, we need to shift our perspective from considering the other person as being in possession of a thing we want want, to considering them a person with whom we'd sure love to do a thing (or several).

5 -  Consent Must Be Taught, and Taught Early

This shift of perspective is not an easy one. All of these things that I have mentioned - the notion of women's bodies as things, the idea that women need to avoid hurting men's feelings or being rude even when resisting unwanted touching, the idea that men need and have a right to sex more than women need and have a right to physical autonomy, and the idea that sexual interaction is a thing given by women to men at men's persistent request - - all of these things together create an environment that fosters and excuses sexual assault, while minimizing both its occurrence and its harmfulness, and frequently blaming women for it. And that's what is meant by "rape culture". It is deeply rooted in our history, our popular culture, our hierarchies, our attitudes about sex and gender, and our expected and accepted behaviours.

This might sound impossible to overcome, but it doesn't have to be. First, we need to see other people as people, and their body parts as aspects of them as people, not as objects or territory. We need to view sex not as something to "get" from someone else, but as an act between people. That takes us a long way toward a culture of consent.

Second, we need to accept and respect other people's rights in their own bodies. We cannot put our wants ahead of their rights. Part of this means accepting that something that is no big deal for us might be a hugely big deal for someone else (and yes, this includes so-called innocent pats on the bum or kisses), and we don't get to make that decision for them, because it's their body, not ours.

Third, we need to listen to other people and read their cues. If they are telling us, through words and body language, that they don't want to be touched, we need to listen to that. If there is any doubt about whether they are consenting, we need to back off.

Fourth, we need to clearly let other people know when we don't want to be touched. Because of the issues of power imbalance and social conditioning, we may find this difficult to do. But we will not be able to foster a culture of consent unless we are clear about when we are consenting, and when we aren't. And we need to be able to take "no" for an answer.

But perhaps the biggest thing that we need to do, as a society, is teach children about consent. When they are young, this does not arise in the context of sexual touching, but it does arise in the context of children's inherent selfishness and entitlement.

We need to teach kids that other people are in charge of their own bodies, just as we teach kids that they are in charge of their bodies. We need to teach them that what they want to do to someone else's body never trumps what that person wants to do with their body.

We need to teach kids that they can't climb all over other people - adults or children - when other people don't want them to. We need to teach them to make sure someone else wants to be hugged, before hugging them.

We need to teach them that if someone else is not having fun in physical play, we stop.

It will take time, and it will often seem - like everything else we teach children - that we are not getting through to them. But if we are consistent, the lessons regarding respecting other people's rights will stick. And then, hopefully, if our 14-year-old does come to us complaining that a 10-year-old kicked him in the groin, we will be able to ask him what he was doing that lead to this event, and remind him about all those lessons he learned as a kid regarding consent.

By taking these steps, we can move toward a culture that values mutual respect and physical autonomy, that celebrates sex as an act between equals - a culture of consent.