Entry tags:
Consent Issues! Party Time! Excellent!
Hey so! Consent issues!
So
renay recently read and reviewed David Inside Out, by Lee Bantle. The book includes an incident she found very problematic in terms of consent, so in deference to possible triggering (this is your warning!) and spoiling people, I refer you to that review rather than summarizing it here. Please note also that the author himself commented and offered quotes from the book to contextualize the event; you should read his whole comment as well.
The particular comment and subsequent discussion also includes accusations of homophobia against
renay, which I am not going to focus on. Full disclosure:
renay is my friend and I feel compelled to publicly defend her. I find these accusations inappropriate and have many reasons for this assessment. However, further in the spirit of full disclosure: I had planned, before Bantle posted his response, to read David Inside Out myself and review it, because
renay's review piqued my interest. I am hoping that Mr. Bantle will regard my review as I intend it, as my own personal opinion, and would prefer not to engage with him (yet, right now) about his behaviour and instead focus only on his book.
I'm also not going to address the flaws in
renay's review; others, including Bantle himself, have pointed out other things she could have included in her review. And it's true, she didn't talk as much about the writing, the female characters, etc. She focused instead on an issue she found personal and important, at the expense of everything else the book had to offer. I'm not here to examine that.
There are so many other issues I will not have time or space to discuss in detail here, including serious gender issues, the divide between the experiences of straight women and gay men, alcohol as a factor in our society in general even outside consent issues.
That said, I'm going to talk about consent issues here. Specifically, consent in established relationships, consent once vs. consent always, and consent under the influence. On a related issue, I want to also discuss realistic portrayals and how realism is handled in media.
Yes Means Yes. Only. Ever.
Disclaimer: I have not yet read the book in question, and my understanding of the situations comes from having it described by multiple parties, including the author. If I must revise anything here after reading it, I will mark these places appropriately, though I will not remove my original words. However, pinpoint accuracy re: the actual events described in the book is not the point here; what I am concerned with is a larger social issue that this incident for sure touches on.
(Further disclaimer: I am not discussing certain sexual situations arranged in advance between consenting parties that involve [apparent] ambiguity of consent, so all you kinksters, this is not about you. That is a separate issue.)
So here's the thing. From my understanding of the situation, David (hero/narrator) and Sean (secret boyfriend) are in a semi-established relationship. They've had some consensual sexual encounters before. However, Sean is uncomfortable with gay sex — as I understand it, this is one of the driving forces of the plot (recall that Sean is the secret boyfriend). The incident that so upset
renay involves alcohol; not having read the book I cannot be sure of the exact sequence of events. The impression I have gathered is that there is a party, Sean gets drunk, and invites David to his house for sex. Once home, Sean passes out from too much drinking. David tries to wake him, including by touching him sexually. When this does not work, he masturbates. There is another consent-related encounter later in the book, which Bantle describes for us in his comment on
renay's blog:
Now about that first incident.
Let's set aside the involvement of alcohol for the moment. Boy, will we EVER get back to that, but for now, let's look at Sean.
Sean, as I understand it, is uncomfortable with gay sex and his own sexuality. He doesn't want a public relationship.
Let's be clear. Consent is required. Always.
But this bit about Sean is the first clue that in this case, consent is especially necessary. Even if he has consented to sex before, that does not guarantee his consent in any other situation.
So we come now to this: consent once does not mean consent always.
Similarly: consent to one sexual activity does not mean consent to all sexual activity.
Must I really elaborate on these concepts? I wish I didn't feel the need to. I wish these ideas were understood, near-instinctual, gut feelings that everyone has.
But. Here it is.
Just because you consent to kiss someone does not mean you consent to have sex with them. Just because you consent to take your clothes off and rub up against each other does not mean you consent to intercourse. Just because you consent to oral does not mean you consent to penetration. Just because you consented to sex with someone else does not mean you consent to sex with anyone else. Just because you flirt with someone does not mean you consent to do anything with them.
Different people have different levels of sexual comfort, and even this can vary depending on their partner. Someone may want to achieve a certain level of physical intimacy, but not feel comfortable going any further.
If you can't respect that, I can't help you.
(I am not even going to go into the discourses about women getting men all worked up [the discourse is almost always framed heteronormatively] and then totally leaves him hanging. Is the sexual gratification of one partner really more important than the consent and comfort of another? Really?)
I spent a year mired in research on this. Do you guys have any idea how many rape cases were dismissed or judged in the defendant's/accused's favour because the woman* consented to kiss him, got in bed with him (fully clothed), or took an article of clothing off? Even when the woman explicitly said "no", just because she consented to previous sexual acts, her consent to further sexual acts was apparently implied.
(* I use specific genders here because my research was restricted to men raping women; this is in no way supposed to imply that men do not rape men or women do not rape men, or deny trans sexual violence, or other such issues.)
Similarly, consenting to a sex act once does not mean consenting to sex acts (even the same ones!) always. Feelings and situations change. You might no longer feel comfortable with this relationship. Maybe you decided last time was a bad idea. And consenting to a sex act three hours ago does not mean consent now.
This goes double, triple, so so so many times in situations like Sean's.
Now, there's this idea of implied ongoing consent in established relationships. I'm going to be honest here and admit that this is an idea I struggle with myself. I have a hard time framing it. I totally and completely believe that a husband can rape his wife, that a boyfriend can rape his established boyfriend. But I also believe that after a certain amount of time and level of sexual intimacy, consent can be more or less assumed — although one must always, always be sensitive to consent and abort sexual activity immediately and just check in ("are you sure?") if there is any hint of not-yes. I beg anyone out there with a better grasp of this to help me understand. I admit my own shortcomings here; I have a hard time going outside my sociocultural conditioning here.
(And, sidenote, there's always the people who fuss about "you mean I have to ask EVERY DAMN TIME? that takes all the fun out of it!" to whom I have so little to say it's not funny. All it takes is "are you sure/ready?" followed by "yes". And if you think that takes the "fun" out of if, I do not wish to speak to you.)
However, that grey area of established, stable, long-time sexually intimate relationships aside, the case presented in David Inside Out is NOT a grey area.
Because Sean is still struggling with his own sexuality, his consent cannot be taken for granted ever. He is in a state of sexual flux, and so his consent cannot be assumed.
That is my first point.
Now we return to the alcohol.
Since I have not read the book, I can't know if Sean was sober or not when he invited David to his house for sex. If he was sober, I refer you to the above discussion and reiterate that his explicit consent is still required, right at that very moment where sexual contact is initiated, and this consent was not requested or given, because Sean was asleep.
If he was drunk when he gave consent, we enter a whole new ball game.
Here's the thing about alcohol. It has a very strange place in our society. I regard alcohol as a drug, same as tobacco, pot, coke, mushrooms, etc. Please note that by labelling it as such, I in no way condemn alcohol itself or the people who consume it or any other substances I mentioned here. Let's just say I would be a hypocrite if I did that.
However, I do think it's a dangerous substance that impacts your mind and body in personally and socially significant ways. And people are way, way too often completely irresponsible in how they interact with alcohol.
The problem comes in when society encourages alcohol use. Let's face it guys: our society (I address modern America specifically) is saturated in alcohol. Getting drunk is not only socially acceptable and considered a legitimate way to have a good time, but it is encouraged. (I'm talking about sociocultural pressures here, not laws, just to be clear.) Think happy hour. Think frat parties. Think girls stripping to their underwear and drinking beer while held upside down and being praised for their prowess.
Think teenagers thinking it's cool to drink in high school.
And if you don't drink, you're a prude, you're no fun. I could go on in this vein; let's just leave it at the fact that alcohol looms larger in our socioculture than some people seem to think.
Back to Sean.
If he got drunk before consenting, a multitude of factors come into play.
Do I really need to go into how alcohol and other such substances impair judgment? How decisions made under the influence must be handled with, at least, extreme caution? I really really hope not. There are grey areas, possible exceptions, whatever. I refer you, again, to Sean's own sexual uncertainty — under these circumstances, can we take his consent when drunk at face value?
(I could have a whole rant here, by the way, with people taking responsibility for their own inebriation, but that would derail this discussion; I'll save it for another day. It's tangential at best.)
We move along to the scene where Sean passes out and David gropes him.
At this point, recall, Sean is so drunk he fell asleep.
When discussing this scene in her review,
renay quoted a passage from Tiger Beatdown. I would hope you've read her review already, but even if you have, this bears repeating, from the rooftops, with a loudspeaker, every hour on the hour, and I don't think I can say it any better myself:
I hope, I hope so hard, that by now it is obvious what my own problem with this scenario is. It's not just that Sean was unconscious — it's also that alcohol was involved, it's that Sean already has problems with his sexually.
Of course, none of this means that this situation doesn't happen in real life. It happens all the time.
Therein lies my problem.
Let's turn now, to how these situations are portrayed.
"Realistic Portrayal" is Not a Defense
I have no problem with portraying-life-as-it-happens in media. I encourage this. I believe this is one of the incredible strengths of having a relatively unhindered (non-governmentally controlled) publishing system. We can use literature as a way to examine our experiences, both personal/individual and shared/social. Literature can be an escape from reality, but it can also be used to illuminate it, expose it, discuss it, or revel in it.
I love books that take real problems, especially the problems teenagers face today, and portray them in a realistic manner.
But! BUT BUT BUT. Authors, "realism" is not a free pass. To anywhere.
Just because it is "real" does not mean you can throw things like racism, or misogyny, or gay bashing, or consent issues, or domestic violence out there and leave it unexamined.
As authors, you have a unique opportunity, and an attendant responsibility, to do something about these social issues. I am not talking about soap boxing. It does not have to be overt. It can be subtle. But, authors, you have a chance to say something about these issues besides "Eh, they happen!"
And if you are so ignorant of your social surroundings, or so callous, that you cannot see why these things must be talked about, discussed, examined, challenged, every time they come up — then I'm sorry, I'm not sure I can help you.
We are saturated with these problems as it is. We are inundated, just by living now, here, today. It is not enough to reflect our reality back at us. I expect more. I expect you to harsh your coworker's buzz and tell them their racist joke is inappropriate. I expect you to call your best friend on their misogyny. I expect you to reject heteronormativity and demand more options from your government, your department stores, your video game developers.
I expect more, authors.
Realism is not a cheap ticket to praise.
Lee Bantle, in his comment on
renay's blog, mentioned that many reviewers had praised his book for its realism and honesty.
Authors, honesty cannot be comprised only of including real issues in your book. Including those issues and then not acknowledging their problems is dishonest, because you are in fact denying their reality — denying the subjectivity of the thousands of people who struggle with these issues. People who are discriminated against because of their race or gender or orientation or disability or—. People who have been raped. People who were groped while too drunk to tell what was going on, and maybe they don't call it rape in their heads but they were uncomfortable with it and wish it hadn't happened. Even if you, personally, would be okay with this scenario, your subjectivity is not anyone else's subjectivity.
Here is what Lee Bantle said about Sean and David's encounters, both the one I have focused on and the later one where Sean attempts to force oral sex:
So Bantle acknowledges that this behaviour is problematic.
And then he says that condemning this behaviour is condemning homosexuality.
I— I'm sorry, I can't touch that latter point. Later, in my review maybe. Not right now.
But let's be clear: this is not model behaviour. Gay teens (and straight teens, and trans teens, and questioning teens, and adults, and older folks, and...) do this all the time.
That does not make it right.
That does not mean all gay men/boys are "doing it wrong". It means gay men are simply part of the same patriarchal society as everyone else, and are struggling with its conditioning. We're all in this together, people.
So let's not attack each other about it, huh?
Bantle had an opportunity to examine David's behaviour. He had, in fact, the perfect opportunity. That later scene, where Sean attempts to force sexual contact on David. It's perfect. Just a few sentences there, or in its aftermath, just a little acknowledgment on David's part that the situations might not be equivalent, but that they are related...
Well.
I wish I could be more articulate. I wish I could say this more beautifully, more clearly. In fewer words. (Heh.) But this is all I have.
Only "yes" means "yes". Consent once does not mean consent always. Consent to one sex act does not mean consent to all sex acts. Portraying the quite realistic situation of grey-area or lack of consent does not give you a free pass for props, does not make you a hero for daring to address reality. You have to keep going. You have to keep working. You have to think, examine, re-present. I expect more.
So
The particular comment and subsequent discussion also includes accusations of homophobia against
I'm also not going to address the flaws in
There are so many other issues I will not have time or space to discuss in detail here, including serious gender issues, the divide between the experiences of straight women and gay men, alcohol as a factor in our society in general even outside consent issues.
That said, I'm going to talk about consent issues here. Specifically, consent in established relationships, consent once vs. consent always, and consent under the influence. On a related issue, I want to also discuss realistic portrayals and how realism is handled in media.
Yes Means Yes. Only. Ever.
Disclaimer: I have not yet read the book in question, and my understanding of the situations comes from having it described by multiple parties, including the author. If I must revise anything here after reading it, I will mark these places appropriately, though I will not remove my original words. However, pinpoint accuracy re: the actual events described in the book is not the point here; what I am concerned with is a larger social issue that this incident for sure touches on.
(Further disclaimer: I am not discussing certain sexual situations arranged in advance between consenting parties that involve [apparent] ambiguity of consent, so all you kinksters, this is not about you. That is a separate issue.)
So here's the thing. From my understanding of the situation, David (hero/narrator) and Sean (secret boyfriend) are in a semi-established relationship. They've had some consensual sexual encounters before. However, Sean is uncomfortable with gay sex — as I understand it, this is one of the driving forces of the plot (recall that Sean is the secret boyfriend). The incident that so upset
Later in the book, after their relationship has fallen apart, Sean and David are in a car and Sean pushes David’s head toward his crotch hoping for oral sex. (p. 162) David shoves Sean’s arm away and gets out of the car. When David later tells Eddie that Sean tried to force him, Eddie says, "ooh, that’s hot." (p. 165) [source]
Now about that first incident.
Let's set aside the involvement of alcohol for the moment. Boy, will we EVER get back to that, but for now, let's look at Sean.
Sean, as I understand it, is uncomfortable with gay sex and his own sexuality. He doesn't want a public relationship.
Let's be clear. Consent is required. Always.
But this bit about Sean is the first clue that in this case, consent is especially necessary. Even if he has consented to sex before, that does not guarantee his consent in any other situation.
So we come now to this: consent once does not mean consent always.
Similarly: consent to one sexual activity does not mean consent to all sexual activity.
Must I really elaborate on these concepts? I wish I didn't feel the need to. I wish these ideas were understood, near-instinctual, gut feelings that everyone has.
But. Here it is.
Just because you consent to kiss someone does not mean you consent to have sex with them. Just because you consent to take your clothes off and rub up against each other does not mean you consent to intercourse. Just because you consent to oral does not mean you consent to penetration. Just because you consented to sex with someone else does not mean you consent to sex with anyone else. Just because you flirt with someone does not mean you consent to do anything with them.
Different people have different levels of sexual comfort, and even this can vary depending on their partner. Someone may want to achieve a certain level of physical intimacy, but not feel comfortable going any further.
If you can't respect that, I can't help you.
(I am not even going to go into the discourses about women getting men all worked up [the discourse is almost always framed heteronormatively] and then totally leaves him hanging. Is the sexual gratification of one partner really more important than the consent and comfort of another? Really?)
I spent a year mired in research on this. Do you guys have any idea how many rape cases were dismissed or judged in the defendant's/accused's favour because the woman* consented to kiss him, got in bed with him (fully clothed), or took an article of clothing off? Even when the woman explicitly said "no", just because she consented to previous sexual acts, her consent to further sexual acts was apparently implied.
(* I use specific genders here because my research was restricted to men raping women; this is in no way supposed to imply that men do not rape men or women do not rape men, or deny trans sexual violence, or other such issues.)
Similarly, consenting to a sex act once does not mean consenting to sex acts (even the same ones!) always. Feelings and situations change. You might no longer feel comfortable with this relationship. Maybe you decided last time was a bad idea. And consenting to a sex act three hours ago does not mean consent now.
This goes double, triple, so so so many times in situations like Sean's.
Now, there's this idea of implied ongoing consent in established relationships. I'm going to be honest here and admit that this is an idea I struggle with myself. I have a hard time framing it. I totally and completely believe that a husband can rape his wife, that a boyfriend can rape his established boyfriend. But I also believe that after a certain amount of time and level of sexual intimacy, consent can be more or less assumed — although one must always, always be sensitive to consent and abort sexual activity immediately and just check in ("are you sure?") if there is any hint of not-yes. I beg anyone out there with a better grasp of this to help me understand. I admit my own shortcomings here; I have a hard time going outside my sociocultural conditioning here.
(And, sidenote, there's always the people who fuss about "you mean I have to ask EVERY DAMN TIME? that takes all the fun out of it!" to whom I have so little to say it's not funny. All it takes is "are you sure/ready?" followed by "yes". And if you think that takes the "fun" out of if, I do not wish to speak to you.)
However, that grey area of established, stable, long-time sexually intimate relationships aside, the case presented in David Inside Out is NOT a grey area.
Because Sean is still struggling with his own sexuality, his consent cannot be taken for granted ever. He is in a state of sexual flux, and so his consent cannot be assumed.
That is my first point.
Now we return to the alcohol.
Since I have not read the book, I can't know if Sean was sober or not when he invited David to his house for sex. If he was sober, I refer you to the above discussion and reiterate that his explicit consent is still required, right at that very moment where sexual contact is initiated, and this consent was not requested or given, because Sean was asleep.
If he was drunk when he gave consent, we enter a whole new ball game.
Here's the thing about alcohol. It has a very strange place in our society. I regard alcohol as a drug, same as tobacco, pot, coke, mushrooms, etc. Please note that by labelling it as such, I in no way condemn alcohol itself or the people who consume it or any other substances I mentioned here. Let's just say I would be a hypocrite if I did that.
However, I do think it's a dangerous substance that impacts your mind and body in personally and socially significant ways. And people are way, way too often completely irresponsible in how they interact with alcohol.
The problem comes in when society encourages alcohol use. Let's face it guys: our society (I address modern America specifically) is saturated in alcohol. Getting drunk is not only socially acceptable and considered a legitimate way to have a good time, but it is encouraged. (I'm talking about sociocultural pressures here, not laws, just to be clear.) Think happy hour. Think frat parties. Think girls stripping to their underwear and drinking beer while held upside down and being praised for their prowess.
Think teenagers thinking it's cool to drink in high school.
And if you don't drink, you're a prude, you're no fun. I could go on in this vein; let's just leave it at the fact that alcohol looms larger in our socioculture than some people seem to think.
Back to Sean.
If he got drunk before consenting, a multitude of factors come into play.
Do I really need to go into how alcohol and other such substances impair judgment? How decisions made under the influence must be handled with, at least, extreme caution? I really really hope not. There are grey areas, possible exceptions, whatever. I refer you, again, to Sean's own sexual uncertainty — under these circumstances, can we take his consent when drunk at face value?
(I could have a whole rant here, by the way, with people taking responsibility for their own inebriation, but that would derail this discussion; I'll save it for another day. It's tangential at best.)
We move along to the scene where Sean passes out and David gropes him.
At this point, recall, Sean is so drunk he fell asleep.
When discussing this scene in her review,
I said the obvious: yes, it’s rape, because wanting to have sex with a guy at some point, or having had sex with a guy at some point, does not mean that he has the right to just stick it in without your explicit consent whenever he pleases, because consent means "yes," not the absence of "no," and because when a guy does that to your unconscious body what he is saying is that your consent fundamentally does not matter, that he is fine with fucking you when you are incapable of consenting or enjoying yourself, that maybe your lack of consent or enjoyment is what he prefers. [source]
I hope, I hope so hard, that by now it is obvious what my own problem with this scenario is. It's not just that Sean was unconscious — it's also that alcohol was involved, it's that Sean already has problems with his sexually.
Of course, none of this means that this situation doesn't happen in real life. It happens all the time.
Therein lies my problem.
Let's turn now, to how these situations are portrayed.
"Realistic Portrayal" is Not a Defense
I have no problem with portraying-life-as-it-happens in media. I encourage this. I believe this is one of the incredible strengths of having a relatively unhindered (non-governmentally controlled) publishing system. We can use literature as a way to examine our experiences, both personal/individual and shared/social. Literature can be an escape from reality, but it can also be used to illuminate it, expose it, discuss it, or revel in it.
I love books that take real problems, especially the problems teenagers face today, and portray them in a realistic manner.
But! BUT BUT BUT. Authors, "realism" is not a free pass. To anywhere.
Just because it is "real" does not mean you can throw things like racism, or misogyny, or gay bashing, or consent issues, or domestic violence out there and leave it unexamined.
As authors, you have a unique opportunity, and an attendant responsibility, to do something about these social issues. I am not talking about soap boxing. It does not have to be overt. It can be subtle. But, authors, you have a chance to say something about these issues besides "Eh, they happen!"
And if you are so ignorant of your social surroundings, or so callous, that you cannot see why these things must be talked about, discussed, examined, challenged, every time they come up — then I'm sorry, I'm not sure I can help you.
We are saturated with these problems as it is. We are inundated, just by living now, here, today. It is not enough to reflect our reality back at us. I expect more. I expect you to harsh your coworker's buzz and tell them their racist joke is inappropriate. I expect you to call your best friend on their misogyny. I expect you to reject heteronormativity and demand more options from your government, your department stores, your video game developers.
I expect more, authors.
Realism is not a cheap ticket to praise.
Lee Bantle, in his comment on
Authors, honesty cannot be comprised only of including real issues in your book. Including those issues and then not acknowledging their problems is dishonest, because you are in fact denying their reality — denying the subjectivity of the thousands of people who struggle with these issues. People who are discriminated against because of their race or gender or orientation or disability or—. People who have been raped. People who were groped while too drunk to tell what was going on, and maybe they don't call it rape in their heads but they were uncomfortable with it and wish it hadn't happened. Even if you, personally, would be okay with this scenario, your subjectivity is not anyone else's subjectivity.
Here is what Lee Bantle said about Sean and David's encounters, both the one I have focused on and the later one where Sean attempts to force oral sex:
While none of this is model behavior, it is realistic and within the norm for gay teen boys. To condemn this behavior — using terms like "skeevy," "molester" and "creeped out" is to condemn more than just these three characters. Worse, to suggest, as the reviewer does, that perhaps the police should be involved is beyond the pale. The police have found their way into gay men’s bedrooms for far too long (see Bowers v. Hardwick, upholding sodomy laws in 1986). [source]
So Bantle acknowledges that this behaviour is problematic.
And then he says that condemning this behaviour is condemning homosexuality.
I— I'm sorry, I can't touch that latter point. Later, in my review maybe. Not right now.
But let's be clear: this is not model behaviour. Gay teens (and straight teens, and trans teens, and questioning teens, and adults, and older folks, and...) do this all the time.
That does not make it right.
That does not mean all gay men/boys are "doing it wrong". It means gay men are simply part of the same patriarchal society as everyone else, and are struggling with its conditioning. We're all in this together, people.
So let's not attack each other about it, huh?
Bantle had an opportunity to examine David's behaviour. He had, in fact, the perfect opportunity. That later scene, where Sean attempts to force sexual contact on David. It's perfect. Just a few sentences there, or in its aftermath, just a little acknowledgment on David's part that the situations might not be equivalent, but that they are related...
Well.
I wish I could be more articulate. I wish I could say this more beautifully, more clearly. In fewer words. (Heh.) But this is all I have.
Only "yes" means "yes". Consent once does not mean consent always. Consent to one sex act does not mean consent to all sex acts. Portraying the quite realistic situation of grey-area or lack of consent does not give you a free pass for props, does not make you a hero for daring to address reality. You have to keep going. You have to keep working. You have to think, examine, re-present. I expect more.
