It’s hardly a new phenomenon that there is a serious rape problem in UK universities – Channel 4 gathered data to suggest that rape reports had increased from 65 in 2014, to 626 in 2018. Yet, in an age of university activist culture, with proudly self-proclaimed male feminists, and socialist personal branding ever on the rise, there lies a deeply insidious, yet thriving climate of sexual, physical, and emotional abuse.
The student experience presents a myriad of opportunities for local community engagement surrounding social issues and causes. Through societies, unions, and charities, the chances to get involved are endless. So why is it that so many of universities claiming to seek transformative and emancipatory politics fail to help their own students?
Whether conscious or unconscious, universities across the UK are complicit in silencing victims and sweeping reports under the carpet for the sake of good PR. In the case of the Warwick Rape Chat in 2018, one of the victims felt her case was handled so poorly that she said: "I don't want to go to my graduation. I just can't wait to never have to go to Warwick ever again."
The response to victims who come forward is often divisive in an equally toxic fashion. The Warwick survivor claims that she felt punished by the university for coming forth, and that it was the most damaging part of the entirety of the experience. Alternatively, survivors are not believed, and their cases are pushed aside.
In dealing with the case of Lee Salter in 2016, the University of Sussex was heavily critiqued. Professor Nicole Westmarland of Durham University conducted an inquiry into the university’s lack of action. She wrote: “The case should act as a warning to other universities to get their houses in order not just in relation to staff as well as students but also in relation to partner violence generally – many are treating sexual violence as a standalone problem unconnected to other forms of violence, abuse and harassment.”
The vice chancellor, Prof Adam Tickell, said the response to the case had been inadequate and praised Smith for sharing her story. He added: “I am very sorry for the failings identified in Prof Westmarland’s report. I am grateful to Allison for taking part in the review. We will continue to offer her whatever support she needs.”
Smith said the report had helped her healing process. She added: “That feeling of not being believed at the start, of being silenced and feeling very isolated and alone was the most difficult thing I’ve ever faced in my life. So, for [the university] to come forward and to say we completely got this wrong ... that is healing for me.”
Upon the publication of a recent piece by the Guardian titled “More women say Birmingham University refused to investigate rape complaints” that addresses the “growing outcry as students say university refused to look into complaints of sexual violence”, one Facebook user left a particularly poignant comment about the power of universities in aiding victims of abuse and sexual violence.
They write: “Often universities can make much more material difference to the victim's life than the police can in these sorts of situations - such as ensuring the two parties don't have to remain in the same halls of residence, be in the same seminars, making sure the victim doesn't have to be in the same exams, sorting them out in terms of their welfare, giving extensions to assignments, help them access sexual health screening etc.”
“They are also able to record these things to see if patterns develop e.g. lots of incidents in the same student bar - they could install more CCTV. While them 'investigating' the actual incident is obviously for the police to take the lead on, the university has powers that the police don't have to effect personal and broader change, and they should be doing all they can, because young people are vulnerable to sexual violence and the university has a duty of care.”
To its credit, the University of Sussex received praise for its handling of the Liam Allen case in 2016, in which he was barred from campus whilst police investigations where underway. In 2018, he was finally charged with rape and sentenced to eight years imprisonment. Whilst this case certainly received a high level of profile, it begs the question, what happens to all the other cases on campus that are reported?
In the time that the report is being investigated (if it even is to be investigated) the survivors of these acts may be forced to see, or even interact with their abusers on a day to day basis on the confines of campus. The survivors whose experiences deemed – by an outdated and impersonal complaints system that fails to put into place sufficient care measures to protect students – “not that bad” may be forced to too. Complaints procedures bound by data protection laws can see the survivor’s anonymity relinquished, whilst they left unsure as to how or when the complaint will be dealt with.
Abuse is not a spectrum, and nor should it be comprehended as such; the act of constant degrading and gaslighting a partner into doubting their sanity and worth should not be seen as any “lesser” than physical or sexual abuse. All abuse should be perceived as totally unacceptable – but the very nature of patriarchal reinforcement calls into question what is true “suffering”.
As illuminated by the Warwick case, universities rarely take the action needed to fully safeguard their students from fellow abusive students at the risk of attracting bad press to their university. At the end of the day, university education is a service, and they seek to attract an influx of customers.
Often, the review of any reports or information surrounding abusers becomes an examination of “he said, she said”, in which there is often a meaningless search for an objective truth – even if the accused has a repeated history and a pattern of abusive behaviours in intimate relationships.
Statistics and any conversation with a small group of young women will inform you that the likelihood of being subjected to some form of gender-based intimate violence is shockingly likely, but rarely dealt with in any official capacity. Consent should, unquestionably, be a black and white matter. Yet a lot of university sexual encounters fall under a grey umbrella in which the victim’s legitimacy is denied. Acts as stealthing (the process of covertly removing a condom without consent) and non-consensual BDSM such as choking, and spanking are rarely addressed as acts of rape or sexual abuse whilst being inherently acts of violence.
In order to better ourselves, and our communities, universities must take abuse allegations seriously and prioritise survivor wellbeing. Consent workshops hardly address personal transformation and the community repair needed to rectify the chaos and harm that abuse causes. Too rarely do higher education institutions hold perpetrators to accountability. In a culture of denial, burial, and apologist within both universities, there needs to be a serious overhaul with how cases of rape and abuse are handled to ensure that victims are no longer forced to be retraumatised to seek justice.