As a society we have no problem understanding sexual assault when a knife or a gun is involved. Why do we have so much trouble when a disparity of power is the weapon?
The sexual assault charges against Dominique Strauss-Kahn — former Managing Director of the International Monetary Fund — raise the issue of consent. The case involves a maid, originally from Guinea, that has accused “DSK” of sexually assaulting her when she went to clean the luxury Manhattan hotel room he was staying in. DNA evidence was provided, verifying that a sexual interaction did take place. However, almost all media coverage concerning this case has been centered on trying to determine what happened in the hotel room between DSK and the maid and on the history and lies told by the maid.
The most telling thing about the DSK case should be DSK’s story. That is, assuming his version of the event is true — however unlikely — why would we think it is possible to have a consensual sexual experience between the head of the IMF and the maid that is sent to clean up after him? Was it DSK’s sex appeal that was able to distract the maid from cleaning the toilet and enter into a “consensual” sexual relationship? Or, more likely, maybe it was the difference in authority that made her feel there was no choice. And when there is no choice, there is no consent.
Consent is defined as a sober, non-coerced, verbal “yes.” In DSK’s case, the power that he yielded over the maid has to be factored into the equation of whether there was true consent. With the political power DSK has, the implication of authority could be coercive enough even without verbal intimidation.
Assuming DSK’s story is true, there is plenty of reason to believe that his power over the maid influenced her “consent.” Financial disposition aside, the maid could have been fearful for her job, for her family and of deportation. We need to start interpreting this type of power and factoring it into our definition of consent, and ultimately determine if such power disparity makes the consent coerced.
But the media and society as a whole do not seem to reflect on the implications of a believable DSK rendition of the facts. Instead we explore the history of the maid and the possible lies she told. While all of this is important for the purpose of determining the truth, it ignores the troubling implications of DSK’s version of events. And it reinforces our history of pitilessness toward victims of sexual assault.
We have been so focused on the victim that no one seems to comment on the gross abuse of power committed by DSK during this sexual encounter. Even with another possible victim coming forward, why are we as a society not willing to discredit the accused, publicize their background and show flaws in the accused’s story?
We need to have a more extensive view of consent that takes into account authority differences. Abuse of power can be just as threatening in these kinds of situations as any other form of sexual assault. The definition of consent should include the notion that when there is a material power gap without the presence of overriding factors indicating there was in fact consent, the interaction should not be considered consensual.
We can make a difference by bringing awareness to this issue. Victims of sexual assault can be our neighbors, our colleagues, our friends and our family. Let’s reduce the negative stigma we place on victims and instead become a supportive network and community for these people. Community change is a big step in raising awareness, but we should also expect more from our legal system. Our legal system should be a safe place for victims of sexual assault, a place victims can expect justice instead of verbal assault and a place free from victimization. The legal system is in place to protect members of our society. Let’s make it known we want protection for all members of our society, including victims of sexual assault.
Amanda Buss is a Social Policy & Practice graduate student from Port Washington, N.Y. Her email address is bussam@sp2.upenn.edu.
