Abstract
This study explores campus-based victim advocates’ perspectives on the process of implementing campus rape reforms mandated by federal policy. Interviews with 14 victim advocates and sexual assault prevention specialists were analyzed qualitatively using thematic analysis techniques. Participants described an increased focus on compliance as a means of managing the liability risks associated with inadequate policy implementation. These shifts toward compliance not only increased the motivation to accomplish reform but also limited those reforms by narrowing the focus. Participants described how narrow compliance resulted in decisions that may actually harm victims. Suggestions for improving policy and the implementation process are discussed.
Keywords
About one in five female college students experience an attempted or completed sexual assault during college (Krebs, Lindquist, Warner, Fisher, & Martin, 2009). Sexual assault is a traumatic experience that is linked to a range of adverse outcomes among those who are victimized, including posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), depression, anxiety, unwanted pregnancy, and exposure to sexually transmitted infections (Kilpatrick & Acierno, 2003; Ullman & Brecklin, 2003; Zinzow et al., 2010). Women who have experienced a sexual assault before or during college had a lower grade point average (GPA) than those who had not been assaulted, suggesting that sexual assault may negatively affect college students’ academic performance as well (Jordan, Combs, & Smith, 2014). Recent policy guidance and legislation from the U.S. federal government, media attention, and student activism have drawn attention to the rate of sexual assault and the all too frequent mishandling of sexual assault on campuses. For example, students have complained that the administration dismissed their reports, blamed them for the assault, and failed to hold perpetrators accountable for their actions (Lombardi, 2010). However, little is known about how campuses are responding to the increased attention and how they are working to reform their sexual assault prevention and intervention approaches. This study sought to explore how campuses are responding to sexual assault and the increased legislative and media attention to the issue of rape.
Background
Policy Context
Three pieces of federal legislation specifically address campus handling of sexual assault, most importantly, Title IX, the Clery Act, and the Campus SaVE Act (which amended the Clery Act). Together, these pieces of legislation establish that campuses have obligations to prevent sexual violence and respond appropriately when sexual violence occurs. Title IX of the Educational Amendments of 1972 (Title IX) was first enacted as an attempt to ensure that female students had equal access to educational opportunities and to protect women from a hostile educational environment. As the legislation was enforced, the notion of hostile environments was expanded to include sexual harassment, sexual violence, and other forms of gender-based violence. In 2011, the U.S. Department of Education Office of Civil Rights (OCR) released a Dear Colleague Letter (DCL) designed to clarify for campuses their responsibilities regarding sexual assault and sexual harassment under Title IX. This document provided guidance about what campuses need to do to ensure that sexual violence does not create a hostile environment. The DCL clarified that campuses must respond in a prompt and equitable manner, have a clear process for handling sexual assault cases, use a preponderance of the evidence standard when adjudicating cases through a campus conduct board process, and provide training to campus personnel involved in sexual assault response.
The second major piece of legislation that shapes campus’ response to sexual violence is the Jeanne Clery Disclosure of Campus Security Policy and Crime Statistics Act (Clery Act), named after a student who was raped and murdered in her dorm room at Lehigh University. The Act was adopted in 1990 to combat the lack of transparency about violent crimes that occur on campuses and requires that campuses collect and publicize statistics on sexual assaults and other crimes committed on the campus and report those statistics to authorities. These crime statistics must be published annually and be readily available to students, parents, and other members of the public. The act also requires that campuses issue timely warnings of campus security threats, and publicize details about their sexual assault education programs, campus judicial policies, and victims’ rights.
The Campus SaVE Act was passed as part of the 2013 Reauthorization of the Violence Against Women Act. This legislation, which amends the Clery Act, broadened the crimes that the campus must include in their Annual Security Report to include all reports received by campus authorities and dating/domestic violence incidents. The Campus SaVE Act also outlined campus responsibilities for prevention programming, including stating that all students must receive prevention programming using a bystander intervention approach.
In addition to these pieces of legislation, there has been an unprecedented level of attention from the highest levels of government, media, and student activists. In January 2014, the White House announced that its Task Force to Protect Students from Sexual Assault would be convening a group of experts to explore how to help campuses strengthen their prevention and intervention efforts (White House Task Force to Protect Students from Sexual Assault, 2014). Stories about campus sexual assault have been published and broadcasted by mainstream media outlets with large, diverse audiences. An increase in media attention coincided with an increase in student activism and student-initiated complaints alleging that their campuses violated Title IX or the Clery Act when responding to a report of sexual assault. The U.S. Education Department’s OCR, which is responsible for oversight and enforcement of Title IX, made the list of schools under investigation for Title IX violations public in an attempt to be more transparent about its efforts to hold schools accountable. This initial list included 55 schools and many more have been added since the initial release (U.S. Department of Education, 2014).
In an analysis of the current policy landscape, Cantalupo (2014) identified that there remains an incentive for campuses to discourage, either actively or passively, the reporting of sexual assault. Cantalupo argues that once campuses are aware of sexual assault, they must provide services and report crime numbers that they fear could deter students from enrolling or otherwise damage their reputation. At the same time, campuses also risk incurring liability for failing to create structures that encourage victims to report and for failing to respond appropriately to those reports, creating a dilemma for campuses. Little is known about how campuses are managing this dilemma as they implement the policies and regulations relevant to campus sexual assault.
Campus Response to Sexual Assault
Although sexual assault in general is a vastly underreported crime, reporting rates on college campuses are particularly low with most studies finding a reporting rate of less than 13% (Sabina & Ho, 2014; Wolitzky-Taylor et al., 2011). Reasons for not reporting include shame, embarrassment, concerns about confidentiality, thinking authorities will not take the report seriously, and thinking the event was not serious enough or lacks evidence (Nasta et al., 2005; Sabina & Ho, 2014; Zinzow & Thompson, 2011). When victims do report their experiences to campus authorities, they may face a variety of unsupportive or victim blaming attitudes similar to what those seeking help from community services sometimes receive (Campbell, 2008; Lombardi, 2010; Ullman, 2010). In general, such negative reactions have been shown to increase the likelihood of developing mental health problems post-assault such as PTSD (Ullman, Townsend, Filipas, & Starzynski, 2007). In the context of college campuses, Smith and Freyd (2013) developed the idea of institutional betrayal and found that those who felt as if an institution either did not adequately protect them from assault or responded insensitively after the assault occurred had higher levels of anxiety and trauma symptoms. This suggests that institutions play an important role in preventing violence, creating structures that encourage reporting, and responding appropriately when victims do report.
A report commissioned by the National Institute of Justice found that campus responses to sexual assault were inconsistent, with many campuses not even meeting the basic requirements for compliance with federal legislation (Karjane, Fisher, & Cullen, 2005). Even when campuses do have a variety of services in place, students are often unaware of those resources (Hayes-Smith & Levett, 2010). Having trained victim advocates easily accessible to students is often seen as a best practice for promoting a compassionate, appropriate response to victims (Amar, Strout, Simpson, Cardiello, & Beckford, 2014; Cantalupo, 2014). However, a study done prior to 2011 surveyed more than 1,000 campus administrators and found that only about 30% of campuses had victim advocacy staff and about 20% had women’s centers which may have offered additional victim advocacy services (Amar et al., 2014). A study commissioned by Senator Claire McCaskill found that 43% of the 236 campuses surveyed said they had a campus victim advocate, although only 34% said they had a victim assistance office on campus (U.S. Senate Subcommittee on Financial & Contracting Oversight, 2014). In addition, the McCaskill study found that 15% of campuses admit that they are still using stricter standards of evidence than the preponderance of the evidence standard mandated by Title IX. About 10% of schools surveyed did not have a Title IX coordinator as required, 20% offered no training to faculty or staff, and 30% offered no training to students.
There is a need to better understand what services and policies campuses have in place and the extent to which campuses are carrying out federal legislation regarding sexual violence. This exploratory study investigated the experiences of campus-based victim advocates in the current era of campus rape reform and their perspectives of the implementation process happening on their campuses.
Method
Qualitative research methods were selected as the best approach to exploring the processes shaping sexual assault reform on college and university campuses because of the inductive nature of these methods. In-depth, semi-structured interviews with campus-based sexual assault advocacy and prevention staff in the Northeastern region of the United States were conducted. Many entities on campus are involved with implementing Title IX, Clery Act, and other guidance, including university lawyers, Title IX Coordinators, campus law enforcement, and student affairs staff. This study, however, focused on campus-based sexual assault advocates for three reasons: (a) These staff spend the majority of their time on issues related to sexual assault, (b) these staff are a primary resource for victims and therefore are likely to be aware of the impact of campus responses on victims, and (c) these staff are likely to be informed about and involved in the implementation of policy relevant to sexual assault on campus. This research was approved by the institutional review board of Binghamton University.
The author recruited participants by reviewing more than 100 websites of 4-year public and private colleges and universities in four states in the northeastern United States for contact information of staff with sexual assault prevention and advocacy job duties. Identified campus-based sexual assault advocates were sent an email invitation to participate in the research. If the person expressed interest, the author provided additional information, offered an opportunity to ask questions, obtained written informed consent, and scheduled a time for the interview. Recruitment occurred on a rolling basis with a total of 40 campus-based advocates contacted, although two emails were returned as no longer valid addresses. Fourteen campus professionals working in sexual assault advocacy and prevention positions were interviewed by the author during the 2013-14 academic year. The length of the interviews ranged from 51-111 minutes. Recorded interviews were transcribed by a research assistant and checked for accuracy by the author. The transcripts were shared with participants as an opportunity to provide additional information or correct any misinformation. The resulting transcripts were uploaded into Dedoose (2014) for analysis.
Sample
All 14 participants were female and all had earned at least a master’s degree. The most common educational background was a master’s degree in social work (n = 6), followed by counseling degrees (n = 3), with the remaining participants having degrees in other relevant fields. Participants had worked in their campus’ sexual assault program for more than 7 years on average, with a range of 1-20 years. Six participants had more than 10 years of experience providing sexual assault services on their campus. Two had worked in previous positions within the university that included work with victims but was not specific to victim advocacy (e.g., employed by the campus counseling center). Five participants had worked in the field of sexual assault prior to their current position, either at a community rape crisis center or another campus.
The vast majority of participants had both advocacy and prevention components to their job (n = 12). A few of the participants also had job duties that were not directly related to sexual assault (e.g., substance abuse prevention). Most were the only person on their campus dedicated to sexual assault services (n = 8), with three participants working in offices of two or three people, and three in offices with five or more staff.
Campuses represented included six private not-for-profit and eight public 4-year institutions located in the northeast region of the United States. Enrollment of the represented schools ranged from around 2,500 students to well over 40,000 students. Two schools had less than 5,000 students; two between 5,000 and 10,000; four between 10,000 and 20,000; and six had more than 20,000 students.
Data Analysis
Analysis of the interview data used a thematic analysis approach, which is characterized by the identification and refinement of themes, or patterns, in the data (Braun & Clarke, 2006). The author started with an initial coding framework based on the research questions, existing literature, and familiarity with the data. The author then systematically and carefully read each transcript and applied relevant codes to segments of the transcripts. After completing this deductive coding process, the author read through all the excerpts that had been assigned a code to inductively identify themes or patterns. To assist in this process of sorting codes and excerpts into themes, the author created a mind map or thematic network to explore the interrelated aspects of the data (Attride-Stirling, 2001; Miles & Huberman, 1994). Engaging in this process helped to refine themes and their relationships to one another, as well as moved the analysis from the level of individual excerpts to that of patterns in the data. The author was the sole investigator, which precluded the ability to use interrater reliability to check the consistency of coding and interpretations. To address this limitation and to enhance the reliability of the thematic analysis results, the author shared the early stages of analysis, such as the mind map, with three campus-based sexual violence advocates who concurred that the identified themes accurately represented their experiences. After further refinement, a summary of the findings, including the thematic network, was also shared with all participants as a form of member-checking (Whiting & Sines, 2012). Feedback from participants confirmed that the summary of the results and the thematic network was representative of their experience.
Results
Participants, identified in this article by a unique number to protect confidentiality, described a process in which the intent of the campus reforms being implemented was eclipsed by the compliance interests of the institution. Participants described how their campus responded to conditions in the policy environment including the risk of consequences that campuses might face if their response is perceived as inadequate, combined with a lack of sufficient information about the policies and best practices for responding to victims. These conditions contributed to a campus climate characterized by fears about liability which the institution attempts to manage by sharpening its focus on compliance and shifting the power and responsibility for the university’s sexual assault response to new entities. These shifts toward compliance, participants acknowledged, have mixed effects on campus responses. On one hand, advocates saw an unprecedented level of interest and engagement from high-level administrators to address many of the problems that advocates had been identifying for years. On the other hand, participants suggested that the reform efforts are undermined by the focus on compliance.
Policy Environment
Increasing consequences
Twelve of the 14 participants described the growing realization that inadequate campus responses to sexual assault could result in direct and indirect consequences for colleges and universities. Lawsuits and federal complaints of policy violations could result in monetary fines, undesired attention from regulatory bodies, and directives to remedy the areas of complaint in the form of settlements or voluntary resolution agreements, all of which limit the institution’s autonomy. Indirect consequences included media attention that might shed a negative light on the campus. In addition to the public relations components of any media story, campuses also worried about whether such media would alienate students, parents, alumni, and donors.
Participants described these consequences as not only troubling to their university but also motivating. For example, one participant said, “once there were some liability concerns, for some people that was the motivation, we don’t want the university to look bad” (1.10). A different advocate explained how her campus is concerned about the potential consequences of not adhering to the regulations: “I think people are afraid that if anyone in the university was on notice [about a sexual assault] and didn’t take action that the university can then suffer from financial problems as well as PR issues” (1.08). A third advocate acknowledged the particular role of OCR complaints in being an accountability mechanism that successfully garners the attention of upper level administrators. She stated, I’m thrilled that OCR is doing so many investigations, and that’s probably a horrible thing to say, but I just feel like I don’t know at this point what else you do to get people who are senior level administrators to care or to get it. (1.13)
These participants suggested that the threat of direct and indirect consequences served as a motivator for compliance, sometimes spurring action that might not otherwise have occurred. However, the threat of consequences also increased fear about the public relations crisis that might result from an OCR investigation or other consequence of policy non-compliance.
Insufficient information
At the same time that universities are becoming increasingly aware of the consequences of not complying, 11 of the participants described how many on their campuses remained confused, conflicted, or unsure about how to interpret and implement the federal regulations. Participants also suggested that there was a dearth of research or other information to help campuses decide what an effective response would look like.
Several participants described a “lack of clarity” (1.05) or “lack of guidance” (1.10) that left their campus struggling to interpret the intent of the regulations. Similarly, advocates described confusion about how the various regulations intersect with one another. For example, one participant remarked, I just think there’s not a high level of understanding about how Title IX, VAWA, Campus SaVE, and Clery relate to each other, and never mind FERPA and all those other things. I think the federal government, the White House task force, they tried to make these things clearer for people, but I just think that it’s still unclear. (1.13)
Participants suggested that this created a situation in which each campus must individually interpret the law to determine how to comply.
Others expressed a desire to know more about what kinds of responses would be effective, or for the government and regulating bodies to be more involved in sharing best practices with campuses. For example, one participant stated, “I would love for the powers that be to kind of look at some of the programs around the country that are working well, that have a good record with students, that are well respected through the country” (1.05). Another participant remarked that “not a day goes by that someone doesn’t try to sell me something” (1.07), but lamented that all too often, there is little or no data backing up whether the product or service is actually effective. Not having information to sort through the many options left campuses feeling unsure about how to best respond to victims.
Campus Climate
Focus on compliance
Against the backdrop of increasing consequences associated with inadequate responses to sexual assault and insufficient information, 11 participants explained how campuses were increasingly fearful of liability. Universities, participants explained, turned their focus toward compliance with the regulations as a means of managing those liability risks. For the advocates interviewed, however, the strong focus on compliance was at times in conflict with what they saw as the victim-centered intent of the regulations.
One participant explained, “obviously we’re in a situation where people are very compliance focused” (1.09). Another concurred, “the focus is really on compliance, that’s the current theme and the current environment” (1.14). Another participant talked about the “pressure” (1.07) on the campus to comply. Suggesting a reason for the compliance climate, another explained that the university is focused on “documenting every step and making sure that each step is by the book so that we could defend against a complaint if one were to arise” (1.03). This participant illustrated how the fear of an OCR complaint fed into a climate focused on documenting compliance as a means of managing liability.
The problem with compliance, explained one participant, is that “compliance isn’t necessarily victim friendly” (1.14). Another participant agreed that the focus of universities was more heavily weighted on “the lens of compliance rather than creating a safe environment and supporting students” (1.04). In other words, campuses adopted a defensive stance to protect against liability risks, rather than an approach focused on creating a climate that protected against liability by supporting victims with compassion and respect.
Shifts in responsibility
Twelve participants explained that with the increased regulatory climate came shifts in both who bore the responsibility and who had the power to shape campus responses to sexual assault. Participants talked about how Title IX coordinators have emerged as important entities in campus sexual assault response decision making. One participant explained how the regulations had “formalized the Title IX office and that person’s role in the community, kind of lifted them up” (1.06). Other participants talked about how an upper level administrator was assigned responsibility for leading the efforts around sexual assault, despite that person lacking background or expertise in the field. Lawyers also, according to participants, had become increasingly central to campus efforts to reform their sexual violence policies and response. One participant explained how the university lawyer is “at the forefront of changing stuff and making sure that we’re in compliance with Title IX, and I think his voice is one that is prioritized on this campus” (1.11). These coordinators, lawyers, and administrators, however, often did not come to the table with a background in sexual assault. As one participant explained, this meant that Title IX coordinators were “kind of catching themselves up to speed right now” (1.02). Often Title IX duties were added to the existing duties of a director of human resources or an office of diversity, sometimes leaving these coordinators without enough time to spend on Title IX or their other job duties. One participant asked, if you just have the lawyer and the dean, and the president or the chancellor there, who really knows about trauma? And who knows about this work from an empowerment based perspective? And who really understands primary prevention, and community organizing models? Those folks in some places have been shut out of that process. (1.10)
Similarly, one participant lamented that “the people who work the closest with these issues and with the students who are impacted by these issues are not part of the conversation when decisions are being made” (1.04). This participant later connected this dynamic directly to the fears about liability: when they’re concerned about how they’re going to be perceived by an agency that can have serious consequences for them and is not clear about what the expectations are, then it leaves it to interpretation and those who speak the strongest for compliance are going to get the most credence because that’s what the fear is, that we’re going to be out of compliance. And so I think that we lose the lens of survivors, and I think that when we look at it from compliance and lawyers, we don’t acknowledge that victim advocates have been talking to survivors for years, and years, and years. (1.04)
Certainly there are many Title IX coordinators, administrators, and lawyers who have pre-existing expertise on sexual assault or who engage deeply with the topic as they become involved in the campus response. Almost all of the participants, in fact, talked about their appreciation of the efforts of a particular lawyer, administrator, or Title IX coordinator who helped others on campus see how to be more victim-centered. One spoke of being “astounded” (1.07) by the commitment of the lawyers she worked with and their willingness to listen to what she has to say. What participants questioned was not the qualifications of lawyers and Title IX officers who, of course, bring valuable expertise specific to their duties and training. Rather, participants raised questions about the relative value of various sources of knowledge and expertise, and the campus’ efforts to balance those voices. Participants suggested that the balance of power and influence is tipped in the direction of lawyers and administrators, at the cost of overshadowing voices that brought an expertise that represented years of experience working directly with victims as they navigated campus and community judicial and service systems.
Campus Response
Motivation
The result of these conditions, increasing consequences, lack of clarity, focus on compliance, and shifts in responsibility, was varied. However, all 14 of the participants acknowledged that the current climate of compliance increased motivation for administrators to address sexual assault on campus. However, 10 of these participants also described concerns that those administrators sometimes seemed interested in only achieving minimal compliance, while 11 of the participants also expressed concern that compliance had started to overshadow victim-centered approaches.
One participant described that when a committee was formed to address the Title IX mandates in the DCL, it was the first time since I had been on the campus that there was a high level group of folks meeting to actually talk about what the response protocol was . . . there had been different committees . . . but we could never get any of the high level administrators to the table so we were really disempowered in that way to make any effective change because we didn’t have the people that made the decisions meeting with us. (1.10)
Some participants talked about how they are deliberately taking advantage of the increased motivation to try to accomplish reforms that would otherwise be ignored. For example, one participant stated, Thankfully all of these efforts have made us pay more attention and kind of put more of a haste in our movements. We really try to utilize it to push for things that we’ve been wanting to do for a long time . . . we’ve been putting years’ worth of work in and not making any progress. And now it’s suddenly easy, like flipping a switch. Now people are willing to play. (1.09)
All of the participants named changes that had been implemented or were underway as a result of the momentum created in the wake of the DCL, including hiring specialized staff, changes to judicial procedures, and increased prevention programming.
Minimal compliance
Despite the motivation and the improvements that participants described, 10 of the participants described how their institution at times focused narrowly on achieving a minimal level of compliance rather than thinking more broadly about how to translate the reforms holistically on their campus.
One participant acknowledged this diminished focus by explaining that there were “limitations to what the university is willing to do” (1.10). In saying this, she suggested that there continued to be barriers to implementing reforms in the institutional handling of sexual assault. A number of participants referred to the potential for compliance with regulations to turn into a series of checkboxes in which institutions focused narrowly on ticking off the boxes without seeing the bigger picture. One participant explained that “there are people at our institution whose focus is let’s make sure we check those boxes and let’s check those boxes in the easiest most expedient way possible” (1.09), suggesting that the focus is on ensuring compliance with the least effort, rather than looking more broadly at how to improve the campus handling of sexual assault. One participant questioned, “are the things that are being done really effective or are they just enabling schools to check off boxes?” (1.03). She suggests that checking off boxes is a simplified process of assessing do we have this in place or not, without looking to see if the procedures in place are actually accomplishing what they are meant to accomplish. Others went a step further and suggested not only that the university was disinterested in taking a deeper look, but that the efforts in which they have engaged might be lip service. One advocate said, “I hate to say this and I hate to believe it, but I fear I’m a checkbox, you know, so that they can say in a PR piece, well we think violence is important” (1.08).
Another participant described how the committee organized to work on improving campus processes would often return to the written charge for the committee. This usually resulted in the committee deciding they had met the administrator’s demands and did not need to explore further, a process the participant described as “lowering the bar” (1.11). Others described a campus committed to compliance with reporting and investigation but resistant to adopting campus-wide awareness campaigns, suggesting a similar narrow view of compliance.
One participant, however, provided a contrasting picture. She talked about how her university went through a deliberate process of saying we need to do whatever our community needs to do to make sure our community is in a better place . . . we have to do more than [the mandates] if we’re actually going to see the real change that we want to see on our campus. (1.09)
On her campus, stakeholders were able to see beyond the narrow view of checkboxes and think instead about what changes would make the campus a safer and more respectful environment.
Victim-insensitive decisions
Eleven of the participants also expressed concern that their institutions sometimes made decisions based on compliance even when those decisions could make the process of seeking help more distressing for victims. Participants, as their advocacy role dictates, felt that victims should have control over the decision about whether or not to make a report and what happens with information shared. Administrators and others in the university, however, prioritized the DCL directive that institutions need to investigate any and all reports, despite other sections of the DCL that stressed the importance of honoring a victim’s wishes. As one participant explained, administrators say, it doesn’t matter what the survivor wants. OCR is telling us we need to investigate, and so we have to investigate. I could say until I was blue in the face, look at all these other things in the letter. I really don’t think the intent of this was to take more power away from survivors, but the lawyers looking at it, people looking at it who didn’t come from a victim-centered place said, this is a liability issue for the university and we must investigate. (1.10)
In this example, we see how campus officials selectively focused on compliance with one aspect of the letter, investigation, at the cost of ignoring other guidance that underlined the importance of allowing victims to retain control over the course of the investigation.
Others spoke of campus procedures that encouraged victims to follow through with reporting, which participants felt sometimes crossed a line into badgering victims. One participant said, when a student is getting phone calls from four different offices on campus, that’s not really helpful for them . . . it used to work much better. I think it’s just that people are afraid. I really think the Dear Colleague Letter in some places has really shifted the focus from survivor support to concerns of liability. . . . I think everyone is walking a fine line of doing the right thing for survivors and actually infringing on their right to do nothing . . . we are forcing people to do things that they don’t want to do. (1.05)
Another participant explained how an institution proceeding against a victim’s wishes is problematic and not aligned with the victim-centered intent of the regulations: We have a situation where a student had all power and control taken away from them. As an institution do we want to be doing the exact same thing that their perpetrator just did to them in our quest to provide them with fair and equitable treatment and make sure that they’re getting their rights? But we are just trampling over their rights. (1.02)
This participant even suggested that it is possible that the drive to investigate every report could end up creating a “chilling effect” on reporting, which the DCL explicitly warns against.
Another issue that more than half of the participants found to be a troubling unintended consequence was the inconsistent status of victim advocate confidentiality. Despite assurances by OCR that advocates should be considered confidential resources, many campuses were still treating their victim advocates as responsible employees who were bound to share names and assault details with a Title IX coordinator or other designated representative. Participants described how this changed the nature of their interactions with victims: I used to be able to just say how can I help you? What do you need today? Now I have to start out with let me tell you [about the limits of my confidentiality] before you start saying anything. . . . It just sets up a very different dynamic. (1.04)
Another participant spoke of the “detrimental” (1.08) effect that not being confidential has on her ability to meet victims’ needs. This participant shared stories of victims who left her office without getting their needs met rather than risk having their privacy compromised. Others described being told that they must gather and report names from anyone who discloses an assault at a public speak-out or other awareness event, regardless of whether the victim disclosed in an attempt to request assistance from the university. Other participants spoke more generally about the responsible employee directive in saying, “we really can’t claim that it’s a victim-centered approach [anymore] knowing that if the student disclosed to a professor that professor is going to go to the Title IX officer” (1.06). This participant echoes the concerns of others who felt the loss of their previous victim-centered role as the institution has turned more toward compliance.
Other victim-insensitive practices described by participants included information sharing, what needs to be documented, and how many people victims need to talk to when pursuing reporting options. Similarly, participants described as insensitive the decision to issue timely warnings to the entire campus for every sexual assault (despite the actual risk for the campus in general), which one participant explained is potentially traumatizing for survivors and another described as potentially violating the victim’s confidentiality or putting her at risk of retaliation.
Discussion
Participants described a remarkably similar story about the process of sexual violence reform and policy implementation on their campuses. They explained that as policies have been created and guidance issued, their campus committed to enacting reforms. They did so, however, in a climate in which the consequences for not complying are perceived as increasingly severe. The potential of formal sanctions, fines, lawsuits, and unflattering media coverage, participants suggested, creates a high motivation for campuses who wish to avoid negative impacts to their reputation and financial well-being. At the same time that motivation to avoid consequences is increasing, participants described a sense that there is a dearth of information about evidence-based, effective campus responses. In addition, participants described lingering confusion about the mandates and the multiple interpretations of those mandates. This leaves campuses in a situation where there is high pressure to comply, but confusing and incomplete information about how to do so. The compliance pressures that participants describe create an environment in which high-level administrators and others who carry considerable power in the institutional bureaucracy are appointed to lead the charge to implement campus reforms. As participants suggested, these campus administrators are an essential component to reforms because they carry the decision-making authority to make changes happen. However, they may lack a background in sexual assault, victim services, and trauma. Victim advocates have this background and training, and yet do not carry the institutional prestige or decision-making capability. On many of the campuses represented in this study, the advocates felt their voices were overshadowed by that of the lawyers, Title IX coordinators, and other upper level administrators. This leaves advocates on these campuses feeling as if they are struggling to have their knowledge and expertise valued, with the result being the enactment of victim-insensitive policies and procedures.
There are multiple ways to make sense of this nexus of campus sexual assault policy implementation problems identified by these participants. In a top-down view of policy implementation, we might place the blame on campuses (and the individual actors who together create the campus response) for imperfectly carrying out the intentions of the policy makers (Matland, 1995; Winter, 2012). For example, this view of policy implementation might have us fault schools for making victim-insensitive decisions, and suggest that those campuses (and the relevant administrators) have missed the intent of the regulations. At times participants adopted a similar perspective, describing attempts to convince administrators that a particular decision was not sensitive to victims’ needs and therefore not aligned with policy makers’ intent. While there is certainly some truth in such a statement, it is likely an incomplete picture.
Some of the problems that participants described may actually be rooted in the way the policies and regulations were constructed. A bottom-up view of policy implementation would say that the street-level actors on these campuses are identifying problems with the policies and are attempting to manage those policy imperfections within the context of their campus (Lipsky, 1983; Matland, 1995; Meyers & Nielsen, 2012). For example, several participants described how victims are receiving pressure to report and participate in investigations. The DCL states that campuses must investigate any report of sexual assault made to a responsible employee. This is vague, of course, as it raises questions about what constitutes a report of sexual assault, a responsible employee, and an investigation. The DCL also indicates that a victim’s wishes regarding the course of the investigation should be considered, while the campus should assess whether it needs to proceed with an investigation against a victim’s wishes because the campus perceives a broader security risk. Campuses, therefore, are given two competing directives: investigate all reports or investigate only those reports that victims want to have investigated except when the campus perceives a threat to community safety. Administrators may make the calculated decision that complying with the more concrete directive to investigate all reports is the better way to avoid violating the regulations and incurring sanctions. In other words, the victim-insensitive pressure to report that participants described in this study may be the result of an attempt by campus officials to manage the competing directives that emerge from the policy and guidance documents. Future policies could attempt to alleviate this bind for campuses, for example, by clarifying that campuses should adopt a victim-centered response in which the victim has full control over the information she shares and whether an investigation happens.
Participants also described ways in which their campuses were managing the policy guidance and implementation process by engaging in a process of simply checking off the boxes to ensure minimal compliance. Again, this kind of approach to sexual violence reform on campus may be rooted in the policies themselves. Title IX does not require any proactive evidence that a school is in compliance, nor are there widespread incentives to encourage implementation. The only way for OCR to be alerted to non-compliance is for a student (or other member of the campus community) to file a complaint with OCR. This may place some campuses in a defensive position in which they engage in sexual violence–related reforms to close any gaps that might be identified in an investigation or lawsuit. In other words, participants’ concern about this checkbox approach to campus sexual violence reform might be identifying a need for greater incentives to encourage implementation. Currently, the only incentive is for a campus to apply to the Office of Violence Against Women Grants to Reduce Sexual Assault, Domestic Violence, Dating Violence and Stalking on Campus Program, which would provide financial resources and technical assistance to support campus implementation efforts. However, these grants are time-limited and are comparatively few in number. Additional incentive programs could be considered in future legislation to encourage campuses to strive for meaningful reforms.
The results of this study also suggest that campuses may need to more fully integrate campus-based victim advocates into the campus process for implementing reforms. While these advocates often carry a lower institutional rank than other administrators (e.g., Dean of Students, University Counsel), those who participated in this study made a compelling case about why they must be given a meaningful place at the table. The expertise and knowledge of advocates is crucial for campuses as they try to design victim-friendly response protocols, which also help campuses manage liability by creating a campus response that is compassionate, supportive, and respectful of victims.
Participants also explained that they and others on their campus are in need of additional research about sexual assault intervention and prevention to support campus decision making about programming. Future research should seek to identify and measure the effectiveness of some of the reforms that campuses are implementing. What reforms have campuses put in place as a result of the recent guidance and legislation? Are there models of campus judicial procedures that are more effective, fair, and victim-centered? Are reforms leading to increased levels of victims reaching out for help (whether or not they chose to pursue any judicial remedies)? Are students more aware of their rights and the resources available to them? Are campus personnel knowledgeable about policies and are those procedures being followed consistently? Future research that looks at whether and how institutional-level differences (size, public or private, location) influence the process and outcomes of campus sexual assault reform and the policy implementation process would also be beneficial. In addition, researchers should attempt to document the benefits of a victim advocate in a campus setting to confirm claims by advocates and victims that a supportive, confidential, and trauma-informed response from an advocate can both improve a victim’s experience and increase a victim’s likelihood of reporting and engaging in judicial processes.
Despite this study’s potential to shed light on the ways that campuses are engaging in processes of reforms, there are some limitations. This is a small, exploratory study intended to better understand and describe the perspectives of campus-based victim advocates on the policy reforms currently underway on campuses across the United States. The study methods only capture campuses in a limited geographic region that had a clearly identifiable staff person dedicated to sexual assault advocacy and/or prevention. Many schools, due to resource allocation and other constraints, do not have a person on campus fulfilling this kind of role. Alternately, the campus might not clearly identify the staff person filling this role on their website. It is possible that the process of policy implementation and the culture of sexual violence reform are different on other kinds of campuses or in other regions.
Victim advocates are likely to have a perspective of the policy implementation process that is grounded in their experiences working directly with victims. Others on the campus surely have additional perspectives that would be equally important for understanding the policy implementation process that is happening on campuses. Future research should talk to a wider variety of stakeholders in the policy implementation process, including Title IX coordinators, campus legal counsel, student affairs, conduct board staff, students, and victims. Research with these stakeholders would help us understand more about the pressures and dynamics that are shaping the policy implementation process on campuses.
The advocates interviewed for this study spoke of the current policy environment as a unique moment of potential in which policy makers, media, campuses, and victims are all engaged and interested in the issue of campus sexual violence. Participants spoke of wanting to seize this moment to create change while stakeholders are open and engaged. However, this study suggests that while there is perhaps an unprecedented amount of interest in campus sexual assault, some campuses might still be making decisions that disempower victims and fail to adequately respond to students. Federal and state legislatures, campus administrators, and others are engaged in ongoing conversations in which many of the concerns raised by the participants are being discussed. The extent to which these concerns are taken seriously and the ways in which we, as a society, choose to respond can shape the future for thousands of sexual assault victims.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The author would like to acknowledge Lindsey Yoder for her help with transcription.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported in part by a grant from the Eckler Foundation.