Is consent enough? What the research on normative heterosexuality and sexual violence tells us

Abstract

In this paper, I first critically review previous research on normative heterosexuality and its intersections with sexual violence to demonstrate that the common focus on consent in Western sexual justice politics, sexuality education, and sexual violence prevention is inadequate for defining and promoting ethical sex and preventing sexual violence. In particular, I demonstrate that a consent focus allows men to (a) hold women responsible for communicating (non)consent; (b) define the conditions of sexual interactions; (c) achieve consent through violence and coercion; (d) accept “yes” as unfettered consent; and (e) minimize and justify sexual violence. I then articulate an alternative view of ethical sex that moves beyond consent and centers care, empathy, co-determination, and ongoing communication and attention, and highlight the importance of social norms and gender transformative approaches to sexual violence prevention.

Keywords

sexual consent sexual justice politics sexuality education sexual violence prevention heterosexuality

Introduction

Recently, consent has taken central stage in Western sexual justice politics, sexuality education, and sexual violence prevention (the so-called “Consent Moment”; Beres, 2014, 2018; Fischel, 2019: 3). Consent education programs and social marketing campaigns have proliferated on postsecondary campuses promoting messages such as “no means no,” “consent is mandatory,” and, increasingly, “yes means yes” and “consent is sexy” (Borges et al., 2008; Canadian Federation of Students, 2020; Hovick and Silver, 2019; Thomas et al., 2016). The latter two messages represent a more recent shift toward promotion of affirmative and enthusiastic consent (i.e., silence or lack of resistance does not constitute consent). Consent-focused programs and campaigns often conceptualize consent as a tool or mechanism for preventing sexual violence and promoting ethical sex (Beres, 2020; Donat and White, 2000; Jozkowski and Humphreys, 2014). The focus on consent in education and prevention stems, in part, from a worthwhile push to provide tools for developing positive behaviors and relationships rather than a sole focus on problem behaviors (Berkowitz, 2005; Borges et al., 2008; Carmody, 2015; Donat and White, 2000; Thomas et al., 2016). It also stems from consent’s central role in defining ethical sex and its absence in defining sexual violence in law, policy, research, education, and popular culture (part of the “Consent Moment”; Gavey, 2005; Fischel, 2019: 3).

Although consent education has shown some promise in improving knowledge and attitudes about consent (Bedera, 2021; Borges et al., 2008; Hovick and Silver, 2019), there is little to no evidence that it reduces sexual violence. Moreover, underlying the focus on consent are several faulty assumptions including that consensual sex is necessarily wanted, pleasurable, and free from coercion, and that we can reduce harm and prevent sexual violence if we teach women and men about the importance of and how to give and ensure consent (Beres, 2010, 2014, 2018; Fischel, 2019). In the current paper, I critique the central and taken-for-granted focus on consent in Western sexual justice politics, sexuality education, and sexual violence prevention on the basis of previous research and theory on normative heterosexuality and its intersections with sexual violence. In so doing, I integrate many of the varied elements of the critique of consent advanced by others before me (e.g., Beres, 2018; Burkett and Hamilton, 2012; Donat and White, 2000; Gavey, 2005; Jozkowski and Humphreys 2014; Kessel, 2020; Loick, 2020; Pugh and Becker, 2018). Defining consent is complex and consent education programs and social marketing campaigns vary widely in their approach (see Muehlenhard et al., 2016). Although the recent shift away from “no means no” and toward affirmative, “yes means yes” approaches is likely a positive one, it remains insufficient. I argue for a move away from consent, in all or most of its popular permutations, as the central (or perhaps even a critical) feature of defining and promoting ethical sex and preventing sexual violence. We must “[release] consent’s capture of our imaginations in order to invite more promising values, norms, and concepts into our efforts for building a safer, more democratically hedonic culture” (Fischel, 2019: 3–4). In the second part of the paper, I propose the need for a shift in thinking about ethical sex (for the purposes of sexual justice politics, sexuality education, and sexual violence prevention) that centers not consent but care, empathy, co-determination, and ongoing communication and attention (drawing on and integrating the work of Beres, 2007; Cahill, 2014; Carmody, 2005, 2015; Fischel, 2019; Pineau, 1989; and others).¹ I also highlight the importance of social norms and gender transformative approaches to sexual violence prevention programming, as part of comprehensive efforts.

The limitations of a consent focus: A critical review of the research and theory on normative heterosexuality

In this section, I critically review previous research on social norms and discourses related to heterosexuality to demonstrate that consent’s central role in sexual justice politics (i.e., advocacy and activism for ethical and egalitarian sexual relations), sexuality education, and sexual violence prevention is limited in its usefulness for defining and promoting ethical sex and preventing sexual violence. My review and analysis draw especially on research and theory that highlight the connections between sexual violence and normative (rather than strictly aberrant or toxic) heterosexuality and masculinity (e.g., Cahill, 2014, 2016; Gavey, 2005; Mardorossian, 2014). This work contends that there is a common ground between normative heterosexuality and sexual violence (what Cahill, 2016 refers to as the “heteronormative sexual continuum”)—not that they are one and the same but that hegemonic heterosexuality functions to obscure clear “distinctions between what is [sexual violence] and what is just sex” (Gavey 2005: 2, emphasis original). In other words, as I and others have demonstrated elsewhere, Western hegemonic heterosexuality is often male-centered and patterned in ways that can support and obscure men’s sexual violence against women. Some of the social norms that make up hegemonic heterosexuality and that I refer to throughout this paper hold that: men are biologically driven to persistently desire and seek sex; women are gatekeepers responsible for controlling men’s sex drives and determining when to engage in sex; heterosex is natural or biological and progresses naturally; and women and men communicate differently, which causes miscommunication (Frith and Kitzinger 1997; Gavey 1992, 2005; Gavey et al., 2001; Hollway 1989, 2005; Waldby et al., 1993). Although some of these norms construct sexuality and sexual violence among lesbian women, gay men, and others (Braun et al., 2009; Gavey, 2005), I am interested in this paper in the entanglements of normative heterosexuality and men’s sexual violence against women, and the limitations of consent in this context. The research on which I draw to build my critique of consent focuses on this context.

I purposely do not define the boundaries of what is and is not sexual violence in this paper because doing so risks oversimplifying its complex and varied meanings and perpetuating the very systems that obscure it. I do, however, argue that the central issue or defining feature of sexual violence is not a lack of consent but gendered power relations and, in the case of men’s sexual violence against women, men’s entitlement, superordination, and denial of women’s desires and ability to meaningfully co-determine the conditions and quality of their sexual relations and experiences (Cahill, 2014; Fischel, 2019). As such, some of the research that I draw on in this paper includes sexual experiences that may not clearly be rape or sexual assault but that are nevertheless harmful, unethical, or unjust (experiences that represent the obscured distinctions between sexual violence and “just sex”; Cahill, 2016; Gavey, 2005: 2).

Three of my recent studies played heavily in the formulation of this paper: one in which I interviewed Canadian university women about sexual violence victimization by an intimate partner (Jeffrey and Barata, 2017); one in which I interviewed Canadian university men about sexual violence perpetration against an intimate partner (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019); and one in which I conducted focus groups with Canadian heterosexual university men in which they spoke about typical sexual expectations, encounters, and communication between intimate partners (Jeffrey and Barata, 2020). In all three studies, I demonstrated how social norms work to justify and normalize men’s sexual violence against women. I will use this and other research to show that consent is too low of a standard for ethical sexual engagement and does not address (or disrupt) the social context in which sex, sexual communication, and sexual violence take place (see also Beres, 2018; Donat and White, 2000; Jozkowski and Willis, 2020; Kessel, 2020; Pugh and Becker, 2018). I also show how consent messages can and are being used by some men to justify and obscure sexual violence. Integrating previous critiques of the consent focus in sexual justice politics, sexuality education, and sexual violence prevention (Beres, 2018; Burkett and Hamilton, 2012; Donat and White, 2000; Gavey, 2005; Jozkowski and Humphreys 2014; Kessel, 2020; Loick, 2020) but paying particular attention to what this focus allows men to do socially (given my interest in social norms and the “heteronormative sexual continuum”; Cahill, 2016), I demonstrate that a consent focus allows men to (a) hold women responsible for communicating (non)consent; (b) define the conditions of sexual interactions; (c) achieve consent through violence and coercion; (d) accept “yes” as unfettered consent; and (e) minimize and justify sexual violence.

A consent focus allows men to hold women responsible for communicating (non)consent

A consent focus is limited in its capacity to define and promote ethical sex and prevent sexual violence because it allows men to hold women responsible for consent and communication. Traditional social norms hold that men are sexual actors and women are reactors or gatekeepers of sex (Allen, 2003; Gavey, 2005; Hird and Jackson, 2001; Hollway, 1989) and a consent focus is not enough to disrupt such norms. Although recent research finds evidence for emerging norms of consent and mutuality among young men and adolescent boys, it also finds that many continue to hold women responsible for setting and clearly communicating sexual boundaries (Cense et al., 2018; Jeffrey and Barata, 2019, 2020; Kirtley Righi et al., 2021). Adolescent boys in Kirtley Righi et al.’s (2021) study, for example, “defaulted to describing how adolescent girls reacted to the initiation of sexual activity” when asked to describe the conveyance of consent (14). In my own qualitative research, I found that men sometimes actively took up consent messages by describing the general importance of or need for consent and communication—claiming broadly, for example, that “only yes means yes” and that “communication is really important” (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019: 99; Jeffrey and Barata, 2020: 364). However, they generally referred to the importance of women’s consent and communication in response to men’s behaviors (Jeffrey and Barata, 2020): “you can’t underestimate the importance of communication…Say ‘no, please stop,’ or ‘yes, keep going’.” In contrast, they rarely provided examples of their own or other men’s responsibility for consenting on their own behalves, asking for sex, or clarifying women’s consent. When they did discuss men’s verbal requests, this communication was described as “awkward,” “weird,” and “[killing] the mood” (Jeffrey and Barata, 2020: 361). Ultimately, consent messaging allowed men in my research to position themselves in line with positive emerging social norms about consent—as “good and modern men” for whom consent is important (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019: 100)—while still holding women alone responsible for the work of doing this consent.

Social norms about women’s responsibility for communicating are also evident in young men’s descriptions of their perpetration of sexual violence or engagement in sexual behavior that is unwanted by a partner. Research has found that some men shift responsibility for these incidents to their partners for not having clearly refused or communicated their boundaries (Cense et al., 2018; Jeffrey and Barata, 2019). Many men and adolescent boys have also explained that they would initiate (typically via body contact) and continue with sex unless their partner clearly disengaged or refused (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019; Jozkowski and Peterson, 2013; Kirtley Righi et al., 2021; Seal and Ehrhardt, 2003). These findings highlight that some men can and do acknowledge the importance of consent while still denying any personal responsibility for doing this consent work (e.g., clarifying, asking, or consenting on their own behalves). In other words, they can easily engage with and adhere to seemingly positive and gender-equitable consent norms without letting go of norms about men’s initiation and women’s gatekeeping roles. This suggests that a consent focus is insufficient for disrupting deeply entrenched social norms and practices. What is more, consent education may even actively reinforce these norms since it frequently emphasizes women’s (and rarely men’s) need to effectively communicate (non)consent (Jozkowski and Humphreys, 2014). Consent is also inherently passive; it is a response to another’s agency and actions and, thus, works to support (women’s) gatekeeping functionality and leaves little space for women to negotiate and express their own desire and sexuality (Cahill, 2016; Carmody, 2005, 2015; Donat and White, 2000; Gavey, 1992; Jozkowski and Humphreys, 2014).

A consent focus allows men to define the conditions of sexual interactions

A consent focus also allows men to define the conditions of sexual interactions because it is insufficient for disrupting the social norms that prescribe heterosex and relationships. Social norms hold that heterosex progresses naturally from kissing to vaginal-penile intercourse (a male-centered view of sex). Young women and men in research studies have described men’s verbal requests for sex as awkward and disruptive (Humphreys, 2007; Humphreys and Herold, 2003; Jeffrey and Barata, 2020; Shumlich and Fisher, 2018), partly by referring to this natural progression (Jeffrey and Barata, 2020). (Note the contrast here with how men emphasize women’s need to clearly and verbally communicate). Some men in my focus group study further emphasized the normative nature of this natural progression by explaining that asking for sex is unappealing to many or most women and men (Jeffrey and Barata, 2020). What is more, some young women have reported that it is difficult to stop unwanted sexual intercourse from progressing from kissing and other noncoital activities (Fantasia, 2011). Exposure to consent messaging was clearly insufficient to disrupt these social norms among some men in my focus group study who directly criticized campus consent education programs, explaining that, despite the teachings, “guys and females both agree” that asking for sex would “be awkward” and “kill the mood” (Jeffrey and Barata, 2020: 361–362).

The issue is more than certain men’s inadequate uptake of consent messaging or certain consent messages’ failings. If sex is assumed to take place naturally and in the same way all the time, it makes sense that young people (and especially men) would report that consent is unnecessary and even awkward. Consent supports a view of sex as a contractual or transactional event (Donat and White, 2000; Loick, 2020; Pineau, 1989) and does so without questioning what that event is (i.e., a male-defined view of sex: sexual activity ending in intercourse). It is also inherently a prerequisite to sex—something that must happen before proceeding to sex rather than an ongoing and embedded component of sex with space for mutual communication and negotiation (including about what “sex” is). Even if expanded to include ongoing requests before proceeding to any new sexual activity, consent boils down to agreement from one partner in response to another and is insufficient for promoting deeper collaboration in co-determining what sex will look like. This means that men’s needs are likely to continue to be prioritized.

Social norms also hold that sex, and especially vaginal–penile intercourse, is an assumed or expected part of normal and healthy heterosexual intimate relationships (Gavey et al., 1999; Shotland and Goodstein, 1992). Likely partly a result of these and other norms, young women and men have often reported that it is acceptable to assume consent in romantic relationships (Humphreys, 2007; Jeffrey and Barata, 2020; Kirtley Righi et al., 2021; see also Lazar, 2010). They also report that (explicit verbal) consent is unnecessary in intimate relationships because partners “already know” or “can tell” if their partner desires sex (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019, 2020: 361; Kirtley Righi et al., 2021; Shumlich and Fisher, 2018: 255). Partners who have an existing level of comfort, intimacy, and sexual experience with one another may, indeed, have at least some understanding of what the other wants and likes, especially compared to first-time or more casual sexual partners. Likewise, as I will discuss in greater detail later, I believe it is possible for sexual partners to engage in mutually desired and even communicative sex without always needing explicit verbal communication. However, it is the taken-for-grantedness of these norms that should be questioned. Indeed, previous research (e.g., Carmody, 2005) highlights the fluidity of individuals’ sexual identity and pleasure and so it would be very limiting to assume one always knows what a partner wants. It is also clear that social norms about partners already knowing what the other wants allow men to deny only their own need to communicate (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019, 2020). Moreover, consent is insufficient for promoting a deeper co-determination of the conditions of sex between intimate partners because it does not question (or foster dialogue between partners about) assumptions about sex in intimate relationships (e.g., that it must occur with relative frequency and what it looks like). Ultimately, any meaningful effort to promote ethical sex or prevent sexual violence requires a stronger disruption of the social norms that govern heterosexuality and relationships.

A consent focus allows men to achieve consent through violence and coercion

A consent focus allows men to understand agreement as something to be achieved, even if through violence and coercion. In the current context of male-centered versions of heterosexuality, a consent focus is unlikely to disrupt the violent and coercive ways that men seek to obtain a “yes” or other indications of consent. It may even support an understanding of consent as something of a conquest or something to be achieved. Both young women and men have described experiences in which men ignored their partners’ refusals or tried to pressure their partners into consenting (Jeffrey and Barata, 2017, 2019; Hird and Jackson, 2001; Jozkowski et al., 2017). Often, these experiences involve women’s nonverbal or ambiguous refusals or signs of discomfort. For example, men in Jeffrey and Barata (2019) and Jozkowski et al. (2017) reported trying to persuade their partners specifically following more ambiguous refusals (such as “not now” or “later”). These findings suggest that men may indeed have adopted “no means no” and “yes means yes” consent messages but highlights why these messages are insufficient: they imply that it is acceptable to continue trying if one has not received a clear verbal “yes” or “no.” “No means no” messages, in particular, inadvertently suggest that “other ways of doing refusals…are open to reasonable doubt” (Kitzinger and Frith, 1999: 293) and, therefore, that it is acceptable to ignore softened or nonverbal refusals or signs of discomfort. The approach problematically implies that not obtaining a “no” or any other clear refusal is the only requirement for ethical sex.

It is also important to note that these descriptions of men persisting in the face of nonverbal or ambiguous refusals are predominantly not examples of men misunderstanding women. Qualitative researchers have consistently found that women often decline sex in the same, culturally normative ways that people decline requests in a variety of social interactions (Kitzinger and Frith, 1999; Muehlenhard et al., 2016) and that men generally understand women’s verbal and nonverbal refusals or signs of non-consent (Beres et al., 2014; Jeffrey and Barata, 2020; Kirtley Righi et al., 2021; McCaw and Senn, 1998; O’Byrne et al., 2006, 2008). Men’s descriptions of real and hypothetical coercion often include an awareness or acknowledgement that the woman was refusing or uncomfortable (Beres et al., 2014; Jeffrey and Barata, 2019; McCaw and Senn, 1998). This body of work suggests that sexual violence is predominantly not a problem of men misunderstanding women (i.e., miscommunication) and, therefore, that teaching men about consent and communication may do little to stop those who choose to ignore refusals and otherwise coerce and sexually assault.

I argue further that consent models actually allow men to seek sex and consent through coercion. In other words, it is possible within a standard of ethical sex that centers consent for men to engage in sex that is both consensual and violent and violating (thus, consent is an inherently weak standard of ethical sex). This is partly a problem with common, simple consent messages like “no means no.” However, it is also a problem inherent in the fact that consent approaches imply a focus on the outcome (whether or not agreement was obtained) and not on how or why or to whose benefit it was obtained, or the extent to which the entire sexual encounter and context leading to it were mutual and ethical. A focus on whether there was consent does not capture the harm or wrong done, for example, in instances in which an individual ultimately agrees, gives in, or otherwise consents because of violence and coercion. And indeed, many women have reported agreeing to unwanted sex after experiencing immediate or ongoing pressure or coercion from a partner—some to avoid rape (or to avoid an experience from being construed as rape) or because it was “easier to just [have sex]…than to…fight him off all night” (Gavey, 1992; Jeffrey and Barata, 2017: 922).

A consent focus allows men to accept “yes” as unfettered consent

A consent focus, and especially a “yes means yes” model, allows men to uncritically accept a “yes” as unfettered consent and to disregard the various reasons women might agree to unwanted sex. Women and girls report sometimes agreeing, consenting, or otherwise acquiescing to unwanted sex, especially in the context of intimate relationships, to avoid an argument or hurting a partner’s feelings, to satisfy a partner and maintain the relationship, because sex is expected in relationships (or wanting to be a good girlfriend), because of previous sexual violence or coercion from the same or another partner, because they feel a lack of control over the process, or because immediate pressure or coercion has “wearied them into submission” (Bay-Cheng and Eliseo-Arras, 2008; Conroy et al., 2015; Gavey, 1992; Hird and Jackson, 2001: 37; Impett and Peplau, 2002; Jeffrey and Barata, 2017; Katz and Tirone, 2010; Kirtley Righi et al., 2021). Even in the absence of immediate pressure or coercion, women often “know that only a concession will be taken at face value—unquestioned, accepted, validated” (Cahill, 2016: 756). Relying on norms about men’s natural and uncontrollable sex drives, men in research studies have also suggested that it is not right or fair for women to change their minds and/or stop sex once started (Cense et al., 2018; Jeffrey and Barata, 2019). A focus on consent, including “yes means yes” and other affirmative consent messages, does not do enough to disrupt the social context in which women often feel pressured to agree to unwanted sex. Instead, it assumes gender equality and that women can freely decline unwanted sex (Kessel, 2020: Pugh and Becker, 2018). Yet, the findings above suggest that women’s choices in sex are limited and that they often do not truly have the option to decline. Racial and other power differentials between partners may also exacerbate women’s ability to freely refuse sex.

My research with men further suggests that, while men might wait for a partner’s consent, they sometimes then accept this consent uncritically or without regard for why it was given (at least rhetorically/in speech). For example, one man described continually asking his partner for sex at a party and, when she eventually agreed, he suggested that she must have just changed her mind and now wanted to have sex (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019). He did not at all acknowledge or admit the potential influence of his continual requests—he did not need to because he had technically met the requirement for ethical sex according to a consent model. In fact, his persistent appeal for his partner’s consent “[masked] the ways in which [her] agency [was] truncated or stultified” (Cahill, 2016: 756). Women have also described experiences in which their partners proceeded with sex knowing their consent was uncertain or had been pressured (e.g., “I don’t think he was really like listening, though”; Jeffrey and Barata, 2017: 922). Thus, consent allows men to disregard the social context surrounding women’s agreement and acquiescence to unwanted sex and absolves them of any responsibility for communicating about it with their partners so long as they have checked the consent box (again, within a standard of ethical sex that centers consent, men can engage in technically ethical sex that is nonetheless violent and violating). As others have noted, consent messages may also “inadvertently communicate that once ‘yes’ is said, consent is irrevocable” (Glace et al., 2021: 3). In other words, men can accept “yes” as both continual and unfettered consent.

A consent focus allows men to minimize and justify sexual violence

Finally, and very much intertwined with all the shortcomings above, a consent focus can support rape culture because it allows men to minimize and justify sexual violence. As I and others have reported elsewhere, men and perpetrators often minimize, justify, and obscure sexual violence (e.g., Jeffrey and Barata, 2019, 2020; Lea and Auburn, 2001; Scully, 1990). My recent research further highlights that some perpetrators are beginning to use consent messaging to do this minimizing, justifying, and obscuring (Jeffrey andBarata, 2019, 2020). For example, some perpetrators in my interview study distinguished—and thereby minimized—their persistence in response to a partner’s more ambiguous refusals from persistence in response to clear refusals. One perpetrator claimed that he would only ever persist when his partner said, “not now” or “later” to sex, never when she gave an unequivocal “no” (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019: 94). Another explained that he sometimes persisted or ignored his partner’s non-verbal signs of discomfort and continued with sex, but that he would stop immediately if she verbally told him to stop. Consent messages like “no means no” support this minimizing because they suggest that other ways of indicating non-consent are less acceptable and, therefore, that disregarding them does not constitute sexual violence. Thus, consent messages helped perpetrators in my interview study frame their behavior as something other than sexual violence—something more normal and acceptable (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019). Consent messages also helped perpetrators frame themselves as generally good and non-violent or non-coercive men: some minimized their one-time use of sexual violence by emphasizing that, aside from this one instance, they usually sought consent (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019).

Consent messages may also help men to position themselves (as noted earlier) as “good and modern men” without actually changing their own behavior (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019: 101).² For example, university men in Bedera (2021) who had received training on affirmative consent demonstrated that they generally understood and endorsed the principles of affirmative consent and claimed to use affirmative consent-seeking strategies when asked explicitly about affirmative consent. However, descriptions of actual experiences “relied primarily on ambiguous cues that would not meet an affirmative consent standard” (10). Likewise, some perpetrators in Jeffrey and Barata (2019) prescribed, in general terms, the importance of explicit consent and communication but, when describing actual experiences, reported “not [talking] at all” (99), continuing with sex unless their partner disengaged, or (as noted earlier) “[trying] to see how far they could push it” (99) when their partner gave only ambiguous signs of refusal or discomfort. Although some of these behaviors may not (always) constitute sexual violence per se, they certainly obscure a clear distinction between sexual violence and normal sex, and men may use this ambiguity and consent messaging rhetorically to exonerate themselves and assert their moral virtuousness while still maintaining their superordination in sexual relations with women (Bedera, 2021; Jeffrey and Barata, 2019).

Perpetrators also often shift responsibility for unwanted sexual behaviors to their partners for not being clear about their desires and boundaries (Cense et al., 2018; Jeffrey and Barata, 2019). For example, one perpetrator in my interview study partly blamed an instance in which he had verbally pressured his partner into sex on her “cloudy” responses. He did this by specifically referring to the “yes means yes” consent message that he had heard on campus and claimed that his partner should have “been a bit more direct when it comes to ‘yes’ and ‘no’” (Jeffrey and Barata, 2019: 99). Similarly, young men (who had not necessarily perpetrated sexual violence) in my focus group study emphasized the importance of clear consent and communication to blame sexual violence on women’s ineffective communication (Jeffrey and Barata, 2020). This is similar to my argument above (i.e., a consent focus allows men to hold women responsible for doing the work of consenting), but here I argue that men sometimes use the language of consent to blame women for sexual violence. Thus, not only does an approach to sexual violence prevention that focuses on consent support the myth that sexual violence is caused predominantly by miscommunication but men also sometimes use miscommunication arguments rhetorically to excuse sexual violence (despite evidence of their understanding; Jeffrey and Barata, 2020; O’Byrne et al., 2008).

These findings suggest that consent messages are easily co-opted and have become part of the vocabulary used to construct sexual violence in socially acceptable terms. In other words, consent education and messaging may help men not to avoid committing sexual violence but to avoid accusations of having committed sexual violence (Kessel, 2020). Nevertheless, the issue is more than men saying one thing and doing another. The language of consent is so easily co-opted to benefit men precisely because of many of the limitations noted throughout this paper and even doing consent does not necessitate women’s meaningful co-determination.

In sum, research on social norms and discourses related to heterosexuality (and its intersections with sexual violence) raises serious doubts about the usefulness of maintaining the recent focus on consent in Western sexual justice politics, sexuality education, and sexual violence prevention. This focus is insufficient for defining and promoting ethical sex and preventing sexual violence and can, at times, actively support sexual violence and rape culture. My critical review is limited in that most research has focused on White, cis, young, educationally privileged (postsecondary) women and men and classed, racialized, and other norms and stereotypes undoubtedly play an important role in these topics. For example, hypersexualizing stereotypes may contribute to some White people’s unwanted sexual touching of Black women and men (e.g., Hirsch and Khan, 2020), possibly partly because sexual desire and therefore consent are assumed ever-present. Moreover, Black and other racialized men may be more sensitive to the need to obtain consent given racist stereotypes about their likelihood to commit sexual assault and fear of false accusations (e.g., Hirsch and Khan, 2020). Although further research and analysis is needed with diverse groups, I suspect that a consent focus is universally limiting. Although some have pushed to complicate the concept of consent beyond simplistic messages like “yes means yes” and “no means no,” I am not convinced that this is enough. As Fischel (2019) notes, “Consent is a check-box” (18). The concept can only be stretched so far. To prevent sexual violence and promote ethical sex, our politics, education, and prevention need a focus that will much more thoroughly disrupt the harmful and inequitable parts of normative heterosexuality and their entanglements with sexual violence.

Shifting social norms beyond consent

Promotion of ethical sex and prevention of sexual violence requires substantial social change in what it means to be and relate as women and men. Drawing on and integrating the work of others (Beres, 2007; Cahill, 2014; Carmody, 2005, 2015; Fischel, 2019; Pineau, 1989), I first propose the need for a shift in thinking about ethical sex that centers not consent but care, empathy, co-determination, and ongoing communication and attention. By this, I mean a shift in the standard of ethical sex being promoted in sexual justice politics, sexuality education, and sexual violence prevention. This focus promotes a more ethical view of sexual engagement than consent and a stronger disruption of the social norms and discourses that support sexual violence. Indeed, I support Fischel’s (2019) desire to, by and large, do away with the term “consent” in sexual justice politics and education because it limits us from imagining a more ethical approach to sex. I aim for the most part not to prescribe “the borders of acceptable or unacceptable desires, thoughts, and actions” (like Carmody, 2015: 108), but to outline a broad social standard for what it means to engage in ethical and equitable sex.

I argue for a social standard of ethical sex that emphasizes meaningful empathy³ for and consideration of our own and partners’ desires and wellbeing and how our own desires and actions impact our partners (Carmody, 2005, 2015); meaningful co-determination of the conditions and quality of sexual relations and experiences, including what sex will look like and the conditions under which it will take place (Cahill, 2014; Fischel, 2019); and continual communication and negotiation of those relations and experiences (Beres, 2007; Pineau, 1989)—well beyond the simple need to obtain a “yes” even if multiple times throughout a sexual encounter. This approach must include care and consideration for the whole person, not just sexual desires, wants, and needs. Although it is important to create space and social norms for women to have and act on sexual desires, we must not, in the process, marginalize other reasons for wanting or choosing to engage in sex, such as desire for closeness or as an act of love, care, or giving when one may not personally desire the physical experience of sex (Gavey, 2005). This might also mean choosing to let a partner define the conditions of an experience, “as long as that choice can be revoked or revised” (Fischel, 2019: 148). Compared to consent, a focus on ongoing communication and negotiation in conjunction with care and empathy offers more space for reflection, discussion, and reconfiguration of our own and others’ nuanced and fluid desire and well-being. Consent is inherently a prerequisite to sex that assumes that “sex is either wanted or unwanted” and that “individuals know in advance what they will be willing to do during a…sexual encounter” (Muehlenhard et al., 2016: 463-464). Care and ongoing communication, in contrast, allow for reflection and discussion in instances in which individuals might feel ambivalent or uncertain about sex, feel differently throughout a sexual encounter or about different sexual activities, or have complex or conflicting reasons for wanting or not wanting sex.

Care and ongoing communication also expand the terms of ethical sex beyond the immediate sexual interaction to include conversations between sexual partners outside of sexual encounters. I also want to note here that communication need not always be verbal. As noted, women and men appear to have a sophisticated understanding of how even nonverbal refusals are typically done (Jeffrey and Barata, 2020; Kitzinger and Frith, 1999; Muehlenhard et al., 2016; O’Byrne et al., 2006, 2008). Moreover, partners who have an existing level of comfort, intimacy, and sexual experience with one another may already have at least some understanding of what the other wants and likes. Although we need to problematize the always assumed notion that verbal communication is unnecessary and disruptive, there is space for nonverbal and indirect communication (Beres, 2007; Pineau 1996)—at least in combination with genuine care and attention to a partner’s wellbeing. Ultimately, an approach to ethical sex that centers care and attention also better disrupts common instances of sexual violence in which men understand but choose to ignore women’s refusals and coerce or pressure women into consenting. Rather than denouncing only instances in which final consent or agreement was not obtained, these norms denounce sex obtained without care for the other person’s wellbeing.

A shift in thinking about ethical sex that centers care, empathy, co-determination, and ongoing communication and attention—in addition to providing a more ethical standard than consent—has the potential to better disrupt some of the social norms about gender, masculinity, and heterosexuality that support sexual violence. Compared to consent, this approach more strongly disrupts notions of sex as contractual and women’s passive gatekeeping role because it necessitates a thoroughly collaborative and active process (much more than a checkbox) in which both women and men are responsible for determining what sex will look like. Indeed, it allows more space for including women’s desires and for redefining what sex looks like. In following Carmody’s (2015) approach, emphasizing care and advocacy for one’s own desires (in addition to others’ desires) is important particularly for women whose sexuality is often understood only in relation to and at service of men’s (Carmody, 2015). Care and empathy also disrupt dominant notions of sex as uncaring, competitive, and focused exclusively on achieving male pleasure, orgasm, and status. Promising results from research on Carmody’s Sex and Ethics Education Program (which focuses heavily on care) suggest that young men who participated demonstrated that they learned to ask more questions and pay more attention to a partner’s needs rather than only their own needs (disrupting norms about men’s uncontrollable biological urges; Carmody, 2015).

A standard of care, empathy, co-determination, and ongoing communication and negotiation also more strongly than consent disrupts norms suggesting that asking for sex is awkward and disruptive. Rather than promoting a seemingly abrupt interruption of sex as in a consent model, this approach promotes ongoing communication, negotiation, and attention as integral components of sex—ultimately redefining sex itself. It also better disrupts miscommunication arguments used to attribute blame for sexual violence. These arguments only work if one assumes that it is solely women’s responsibility to communicate and that the communication or consent process is a quick and/or one-time request (because these arguments mean that men hold no responsibility for clarifying or checking in). Ultimately, a view of ethical sex that centers care, empathy, meaningful co-determination, and ongoing communication and attention may also be more difficult for men to co-opt for their own benefit given that it necessitates a much more thoroughly mutually engaged process.

Nevertheless, a reframing of ethical sex alone is insufficient for preventing sexual violence and promoting ethical sex. I am also not necessarily suggesting that care, empathy, co-determination, and ongoing communication and attention be centered as topics in sexual violence prevention programs (only that they reshape the versions of ethical sex promoted). Like consent education, programs that focus on care and communication (e.g., see Carmody, 2015) can increase young people’s understanding of the importance of consent and how to read body language and negotiate sexual relationships; however, sexual violence is often not an issue of miscommunication and such programs have not necessarily found decreases sexual violence victimization or perpetration. My findings in Jeffrey and Barata (2019) suggest that even men who discuss the importance of mutuality and consent often do so in conjunction with male-centered norms about sexual violence and heterosexuality (e.g., trying to pressure a partner into sex). My findings in Jeffrey and Barata (2020) further demonstrate that when men do introduce new and alternative norms about women’s sexual drive and desire in conversations with other men, these norms easily get shut down by biological claims about men’s higher sex drive and marginalizing rhetoric. For example, participants claimed that men are “wired” to want sex (6) and that it would be rare and abnormal (e.g., “odd”) for a woman to have a high sex drive or for a man to decline sex (8). These findings suggest that any promotion of positive sexuality norms must also be accompanied by explicitly challenging dominant norms about gender, masculinity, and heterosexuality, and the underlying rhetoric that supports them.

Indeed, the explicit challenging of heteronormative social norms appears to be a key feature of effective prevention programs (Orchowski et al., 2020). Bystander interventions, for example, target all people as allies in efforts to prevent sexual violence by training individuals to speak out against harmful social norms and to model positive social norms in their peer groups (Banyard et al., 2007; Coker et al., 2017). Although there is only limited evidence to date that bystander programs can reduce men’s perpetration (Coker et al., 2017)—and they also raise some concerns about engaging men as allies without challenging their own complicity in gender equality (e.g., Pease, 2015)—they may still represent one important piece of prevention. Resistance education programs for women, such as Senn’s Enhanced Assess, Acknowledge, Act Sexual Assault Resistance program, are currently some of the most successful at decreasing sexual violence experiences. They work, in part, by helping women to critically evaluate and overcome social norms and expectations about women’s sexuality and strength and those that suggest that women should prioritize others’ feelings and desires (Hollander, 2014; Radtke et al., 2020; Senn et al., 2015). Programs that specifically target men are in relative infancy and have traditionally focused primarily on changing personal attitudes and beliefs, with little effect on perpetration (Anderson and Whiston, 2005; DeGue et al., 2014; Ricardo et al., 2011). Nevertheless, the few emerging programs that have shown some promise in reducing men’s perpetration target social norms and work, in part, because they correct men’s misperceptions of the extent to which other men adhere to patriarchal and sexual violence-supportive norms (Gidycz et al., 2011; Salazar et al., 2014). Gender transformative approaches that move away from (only) correcting individual men’s misperceptions and “denaturaliz[e] what it means to be a man” are also needed (Hollander and Pascoe, 2019; Jewkes et al., 2015; Orchowski, 2019; Pease and Flood, 2008).

Although addressing social norms is crucial, we ultimately need comprehensive prevention efforts that target various audiences and levels of the social-ecological model (Bonar et al., 2020; Edwards and Banyard, 2018; Orchowski et al., 2020). Early education is also important and should teach boys empathy; critically interrogate gender and heterosexuality norms (including norms about what sex looks like and how it progresses), purely biological approaches to human gender and sexuality, and racialized stereotypes; emphasize the diversity of human sexuality, preferences, and erogenous zones; and teach relational and sexual decision-making.

Conclusion

There is urgency in moving beyond the taken-for-granted focus on consent in contemporary Western sexual justice politics, sexuality education, and sexual violence prevention, especially given that consent messages are also implicated in rape culture. Even seemingly gender-equitable norms like consent are being used to subtly support sexual violence. To reduce sexual violence and promote ethical and equitable sex of course requires substantial cultural change and gender equality in all realms of life. In the meantime, moving beyond (even doing away with) the language of consent will allow us to imagine a more ethical way forward. We need a sexual justice politics that will more thoroughly disrupt the dominant gendered norms that support sexual violence; one that opens new possibilities for what sex can look like, that takes seriously women’s complex wants and choices, and that necessitate a more humane, caring, attentive, and mutually engaged approach to sex.

Footnotes

Acknowledgement

The author would like to thank the anonymous peer reviewers for their thoughtful comments and Dr. Melanie A. Beres for providing instrumental feedback on an early draft of this paper.

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 previous research that strongly informed the thinking and conceptualization of this paper was supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. This funding source did not have any involvement in the previous research or the current paper.

ORCID iD

Nicole K Jeffrey

Notes

Author Biographical Note: The author is currently a Postdoctoral Fellow and Research Associate at the University of Windsor, Ontario, Canada. She completed her PhD in 2019 in Applied Social Psychology at the University of Guelph, Ontario, Canada, where she conducted some of the research that informed the current paper. She uses mixed-methods and social-psychological and feminist theories to study the social norms and discourses that normalize and perpetuate men’s sexual violence against women.

References

Allen

(2003) Girls want sex, boys want love: resisting dominant discourses of (hetero) sexuality. Sexualities 6(2): 215–236. DOI:10.1177/1363460703006002004

Anderson

Whiston

(2005) Sexual assault education programs: a meta-analytic examination of their effectiveness. Psychology of Women Quarterly 29(4): 374–388. DOI: 10.1111/j.1471-6402.2005.00237.x

Banyard

Moynihan

Plante

(2007) Sexual violence prevention through bystander education: an experimental evaluation. Journal of Community Psychology 35(4): 463–481. DOI: 10.1002/jcop.20159

Bay-Cheng

Eliseo-Arras

(2008) The making of unwanted sex: gendered and neoliberal norms in college women's unwanted sexual experiences. Journal of Sex Research 45(4): 386–397. DOI: 10.1080/00224490802398381

Bedera

(2021) Moaning and eye contact: men’s use of ambiguous signals in attributions of consent to their partners. Violence Against Women 27(15–16): 3093–3113. DOI: 10.1177/1077801221992870

Beres

(2007) ‘Spontaneous’ sexual consent: an analysis of sexual consent literature. Feminism & Psychology 17(1): 93–108. DOI: 10.1177/0959353507072914

Beres

(2010) Sexual miscommunication? Untangling assumptions about sexual communication between casual sex partners. Culture, Health & Sexuality 12(1): 1–14. DOI: 10.1080/13691050903075226

Beres

(2014) Rethinking the concept of consent for anti-sexual violence activism and education. Feminism & Psychology 24(3): 373–389. DOI: 10.1177/0959353514539652

Beres

(2018) What does faking orgasms have to do with sexual consent? Sexualities 21(4): 702–705. DOI: 10.1177/1363460717708151

10.

Beres

(2020) Perspectives of rape-prevention educators on the role of consent in sexual violence prevention. Sex Education 20(2): 227–238. DOI: 10.1080/14681811.2019.1621744

11.

Beres

Senn

McCaw

(2014) Navigating ambivalence: how heterosexual young adults make sense of desire differences. The Journal of Sex Research 51(7): 765–776. DOI: 10.1080/00224499.2013.792327

12.

Berg

Lonsway

Fitzgerald

(1999) Rape prevention education for men: The effectiveness of empathy-induction techniques. Journal of College Student Development 40(3): 219–234.

13.

Berkowitz

(2005) Critical elements of sexual-assault prevention and risk-reduction programs for men and women. In: Kilmartin

Berkowitz

(eds), Exual Assault in Context: Teaching College Men about Gender S. 1st ed. New York, NY: Psychology Press, pp. 75–96. DOI: 10.4324/9781410612731

14.

Bonar

DeGue

Abbey

, et al. (2020) Prevention of sexual violence among college students: current challenges and future directions. Journal of American College Health. 70(2): 575–588. DOI: 10.1080/07448481.2020.1757681

15.

Borges

Banyard

Moynihan

(2008) Clarifying consent: Primary prevention of sexual assault on a college campus. Journal of Prevention & Intervention in the Community 36(1–2): 75–88. DOI: 10.1080/10852350802022324

16.

Braun

Schmidt

Gavey

, et al. (2009) Sexual coercion among gay and bisexual men in Aotearoa/New Zealand. Journal of Homosexuality 56(3): 336–360. DOI: 10.1080/00918360902728764

17.

Burkett

Hamilton

(2012) Postfeminist sexual agency: Young women's negotiations of sexual consent. Sexualities 15(7): 815–833. DOI: 10.1177/1363460712454076

18.

Cahill

(2014) Recognition, desire, and unjust sex. Hypatia 29(2): 303–319. DOI: 10.1111/hypa.12080

19.

Cahill

(2016) Unjust sex vs. rape. Hypatia 31(4): 746–761. DOI: 10.1111/hypa.12294

20.

Canadian Federation of Students (2020) Sexualized and gender-based violence: No means no and consent is mandatory. Canadian Federation of Students. Available at: https://cfs-fcee.ca/campaigns/sexualized-violence/.

21.

Carmody

(2005) Ethical erotics: Reconceptualizing anti-rape education. Sexualities 8(4): 465–480. DOI: 10.1177/1363460705056621

22.

Carmody

(2015) Sex, ethics, and young people. In: Critical Studies in Gender, Sexuality, and Culture. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

23.

Cense

Bay-Cheng

Dijk

(2018) ‘Do I score points if I say “no”?’: negotiating sexual boundaries in a changing normative landscape. Journal of Gender-Based Violence 2(2): 277–291. DOI: 10.1332/239868018X15266373560443

24.

Coker

Bush

Cook-Craig

, et al. (2017) RCT testing bystander effectiveness to reduce violence. American Journal of Preventive Medicine 52(5): 566–578. DOI: 10.1016/j.amepre.2017.01.020

25.

Conroy

Krishnakumar

Leone

(2015) Reexamining issues of conceptualization and willing consent. Journal of Interpersonal Violence 30(11): 1828–1846. DOI: 10.1177/0886260514549050

26.

DeGue

Valle

Holt

, et al. (2014) A systematic review of primary prevention strategies for sexual violence perpetration. Aggression and Violent Behavior 19(4): 346–362. DOI: 10.1016/j.avb.2014.05.004

27.

Donat

PLN

White

(2000) Re-examining the issue of nonconsent in acquaintance rape. In: Travis

White

(eds.), Sexuality, Society, and Feminism. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association, pp. 355–376. DOI: 10.1037/10345-014

28.

Edwards

Banyard

(2018) Preventing sexual violence among adolescents and young adults. In: Wolfe

Temple

(eds.), Adolescent Dating Violence: Theory, Research, and Prevention. Amsterdam, Netherlands: Elsevier, pp. 415–435. DOI: 10.1016/B978-0-12-811797-2.00017-7

29.

Fantasia

(2011) Really not even a decision any more. Journal of Forensic Nursing 7(3): 120–129. DOI: 10.1111/j.1939-3938.2011.01108.x

30.

Fischel

(2019) Screw Consent: A Better Politics of Sexual Justice. Oakland, CA: University of California Press.

31.

Frith

Kitzinger

(1997) Talk about sexual miscommunication. Women's Studies International Forum 20(4): 517–528. DOI: 10.1016/S0277-5395(97)87415-8

32.

Gavey

(1992) Technologies and effects of heterosexual coercion. Feminism & Psychology 2: 325–351. DOI: 10.1177/0959353592023003

33.

Gavey

(2005) Just sex? In: The Cultural Scaffolding of Rape (Women and Psychology). New York, NY: Routledge.

34.

Gavey

McPhillips

Braun

(1999) Interruptus coitus: heterosexuals accounting for intercourse. Sexualities 2(1): 35–68. DOI: 10.1177/136346099002001003

35.

Gavey

McPhillips

Doherty

(2001) “If it’s not on, it’s not on”-or is it? Gender & Society 15(6): 917–934. DOI: 10.1177/089124301015006008

36.

Gidycz

Orchowski

Berkowitz

(2011) Preventing sexual aggression among college men: An evaluation of a social norms and bystander intervention program. Violence Against Women 17: 720–742. DOI: 10.1177/1077801211409727

37.

Glace

Zatkin

Kaufman

(2021) Moving toward a new model of sexual consent: the development of the process-based consent scale. Violence Against Women 27(12–13): 2424–2450.

38.

Hird

Jackson

(2001) Where ‘angels’ and ‘wusses’ fear to tread: sexual coercion in adolescent dating relationships. Journal of Sociology 37(1): 27–43. DOI: 10.1177/144078301128756184

39.

Hirsch

Khan

(2020) Preventing Campus Sexual Assault isn’t Just about Sex. It’s also About Race. Washington, DC: Washington Post. Available at: https://www.washingtonpost.com/outlook/sexual-assault-racial-biases/2020/03/20/ba681fdc-5da1-11ea-9055-5fa12981bbbf_story.html

40.

Hollander

(2014) Does self-defense training prevent sexual violence against women? Violence Against Women 20(3): 252–269. DOI: 10.1177/1077801214526046

41.

Hollander

Pascoe

(2019) Comment on brush and miller's “trouble in paradigm: ‘gender transformative programming’ in violence prevention”. Violence Against Women 25(14): 1682–1688. DOI: 10.1177/1077801219872557

42.

Hollway

(1989) Subjectivity and Method in Psychology: Gender, Meaning and Science. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage.

43.

Hollway

(2005) Gender difference and the production of subjectivity. In: Henriques

Hollway

Urwin

, et al. (eds), Changing the Subject: Psychology, Social Regulation, and Subjectivity. New York, NY: Taylor & Francis e-Library, pp. 223–261.

44.

Hovick

Silver

(2019) “Consent is sexy”:a poster campaign using sex-positive images and messages to increase dyadic sexual communication. Journal of American College Health 67(8): 817–824. DOI: 10.1080/07448481.2018.1515746

45.

Humphreys

(2007) Perceptions of sexual consent: the impact of relationship history and gender. Journal of Sex Research 44(4): 307–315. DOI: 10.1080/00224490701586706

46.

Humphreys

Herold

(2003) Should universities and colleges mandate sexual behavior? Journal of Psychology & Human Sexuality 15(1): 35–51. DOI: 10.1300/J056v15n01_04

47.

Impett

Peplau

(2002) Why some women consent to unwanted sex with a dating partner: Insights from attachment theory. Psychology of Women Quarterly 26(4): 360–370. DOI: 10.1111/1471-6402.t01-1-00075

48.

Jeffrey

Barata

(2017) “He didn’t necessarily force himself upon me, but”: women’s lived experiences of sexual coercion in intimate relationships with men. Violence Against Women 23(8): 911–933. DOI: 10.1177/1077801216652507

49.

Jeffrey

Barata

(2019) “She didn’t want to…and I’d obviously insist”: Canadian University men’s normalization of their sexual violence against intimate partners. Journal of Aggression, Maltreatment & Trauma 28(1): 85–105. DOI: 10.1080/10926771.2018.1500406

50.

Jeffrey

Barata

(2020) The intersections of normative heterosexuality and sexual violence: University men’s talk about sexual behavior in intimate relationships. Sex Roles 83(5–6): 353–369. DOI: 10.1007/s11199-019-01110-3

51.

Jewkes

Flood

Lang

(2015) From work with men and boys to changes of social norms and reduction of inequities in gender relations: A conceptual shift in prevention of violence against women and girls. The Lancet 385(9977): 1580–1589. DOI: 10.1016/S0140-6736(14)61683-4

52.

Jozkowski

Humphreys

(2014) Sexual consent on college campuses: Implications for sexual assault prevention education. The Health Education Monograph Series 31(2): 30–35.

53.

Jozkowski

K. N.

Peterson

Z. D.

(2013) College students and sexual consent: Unique insights. Journal of Sex Research 50(6): 517–523. DOI: 10.1080/00224499.2012.700739

54.

Jozkowski

Willis

(2020) People perceive transitioning from a social to a private setting as an indicator of sexual consent. Psychology & Sexuality 11(4): 358–371. DOI: 10.1080/19419899.2020.1769162

55.

Jozkowski

Marcantonio

Hunt

(2017) College students’ sexual consent communication and perceptions of sexual double standards: a qualitative investigation. Perspectives on Sexual and Reproductive Health 49(4): 237–244. DOI: 10.1363/psrh.12041

56.

Katz

Tirone

(2010) Going along with it: sexually coercive partner behavior predicts dating women’s compliance with unwanted sex. Violence Against Women 16(7): 730–742. DOI: 10.1177/1077801210374867

57.

Kessel

(2020) The cruel optimism of sexual consent. Contemporary Political Theory 19(3): 359–380. DOI: 10.1057/s41296-019-00362-8

58.

Kirtley Righi

Bogen

Kuo

, et al. (2021) A qualitative analysis of beliefs about sexual consent among high school students. Journal of Interpersonal Violence 36(15–16): NP8290–NP8316. DOI: 10.1177/0886260519842855

59.

Kitzinger

Frith

(1999) Just say no? The use of conversation analysis in developing a feminist perspective on sexual refusal. Discourse & Society 10(3): 293–316. DOI: 10.1177/0957926599010003002

60.

Lazar

(2010) Negotiating sex: The legal construct of consent in cases of wife rape in Ontario, Canada. Canadian Journal of Women and the Law 22(2): 329–363. DOI: 10.3138/cjwl.22.2.329

61.

Lea

Auburn

(2001) The social construction of rape in the talk of a convicted rapist. Feminism & Psychology 11(1): 11–33. DOI: 10.1177/0959353501011001002

62.

Loick

(2020) “… as if it were a thing.” A feminist critique of consent. Constellations 27(3): 412–422. DOI: 10.1111/1467-8675.12421

63.

Marcus

(1992) Fighting bodies, fighting words: a theory and politics of rape prevention. In: Butler

Scott

(eds.), Feminists Theorize the Political. New York, NY: Routledge, pp. 385–403.

64.

Mardorossian

(2014) Framing the Rape Victim: Gender and Agency Reconsidered. NB: Rutgers University Press.

65.

McCaw

Senn

(1998) Perception of cues in conflictual dating situations. Violence Against Women 4(5): 609–624. DOI: 10.1177/1077801298004005006

66.

Muehlenhard

Humphreys

Jozkowski

, et al. (2016) The complexities of sexual consent among college students: a conceptual and empirical review. Journal of Sex Research 53(4–5): 457–487. DOI: 10.1080/00224499.2016.1146651

67.

Orchowski

(2019) “Trouble in paradigm” and the social norms approach to violence prevention. Violence Against Women 25(14): 1672–1681. DOI: 10.1177/1077801219872561

68.

Orchowski

Edwards

Hollander

, et al. (2020) Integrating sexual assault resistance, bystander, and men’s social norms strategies to prevent sexual violence on college campuses: a call to action. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse 21(4): 811–827. DOI: 10.1177/1524838018789153

69.

O’Byrne

Rapley

Hansen

(2006) You couldn’t say “no”. could You?’: Young Men’s Understandings of Sexual Refusal. Feminism & Psychology 16(2): 133–154. DOI: 10.1177/0959-353506062970

70.

O’Byrne

Hansen

Rapley

(2008) If a girl doesn’t say ‘no’: young men, rape and claims of ‘insufficient knowledge. Journal of Community & Applied Social Psychology 18(3): 168–193. DOI: 10.1002/casp.922

71.

Pascoe

Hollander

(2016) Good Guys Don't Rape. Gender & Society 30(1): 67–79. DOI: 10.1177/0891243215612707

72.

Pease

(2015) Disengaging men from patriarchy: rethinking the man question in masculinity studies. In: Flood

Howson

(eds.), Engaging Men in Building Gender Equality. Cambridge Scholars Publishing, pp. 55–70.

73.

Pease

Flood

(2008) Rethinking the significance of attitudes in preventing men’s violence against women. Australian Journal of Social Issues 43(4): 547–561. DOI: 10.1002/j.1839-4655.2008.tb00118.x

74.

Pineau

(1989) Date rape: A feminist analysis. Law and Philosophy 8(2): 217–243. DOI: 10.2307/3504696

75.

Pineau

(1996) A response to my critics. In: Francis

(ed), Date Rape: Feminism, Philosophy and the Law. Park, PA: UniversityThe Pennsylvania State University Press, pp. 63–107.

76.

Pugh

Becker

(2018) Exploring definitions and prevalence of verbal sexual coercion and its relationship to consent to unwanted sex: Implications for affirmative consent standards on college campuses. Behavioral sciences (Basel, Switzerland) 8(8): 1–28. DOI: 10.3390/bs8080069

77.

Radtke

Barata

Senn

, et al. (2020) Countering rape culture with resistance education. In: Crocker

Minaker

Nelund

(eds.), Critical Conversations about Sexual Violence on University Campuses: New Challenges, Novel Solutions. Montreal, Canada: McGill-Queen’s University Press, pp. 349–370.

78.

Ricardo

Eads

Barker

(2011) Engaging Boys and Young Men in the Prevention of Sexual Violence: A Systematic and Global Review of evaluated Interventions. Washington, DC: Sexual Violence Research Initiative.

79.

Salazar

L. F.

Vivolo-Kantor

Hardin

, et al. (2014) A web-based sexual violence bystander intervention for male college students: Randomized controlled trial. Journal of Medical Internet Research 16(9): e203.

80.

Scully

(1990) Understanding Sexual Violence: A Study of Convicted Rapists. Boston, MA: Unwin Hyman.

81.

Seal

Ehrhardt

(2003) Masculinity and urban men: Perceived scripts for courtship, romantic, and sexual interactions with women. Culture, Health & Sexuality 5(4): 295–319. DOI: 10.1080/136910501171698

82.

Senn

Eliasziw

Barata

, et al. (2015) Efficacy of a sexual assault resistance program for university women. New England Journal of Medicine 372(24): 2326–2335. DOI: 10.1056/NEJMsa1411131

83.

Shotland

Goodstein

(1992) Sexual precedence reduces the perceived legitimacy of sexual refusal: An examination of attributions concerning date rape and consensual sex. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin 18(6): 756–764. DOI: 10.1177/0146167292186012

84.

Shumlich

Fisher

(2018) Affirmative sexual consent? Direct and unambiguous consent is rarely included in discussions of recent sexual interactions. The Canadian Journal of Human Sexuality 27(3): 248–260. DOI: 10.3138/cjhs.2017-0040

85.

Stephens

George

(2009) Rape prevention with college men. Journal of Interpersonal Violence 24(6): 996–1013. DOI: 10.1177/0886260508319366

86.

Thomas

Sorenson

Joshi

(2016) “Consent is good, joyous, sexy”: a banner campaign to market consent to college students. Journal of American College Health 64(8): 639–650. DOI: 10.1080/07448481.2016.1217869

87.

Waldby

Kippax

Crawford

(1993) Research note: heterosexual men and 'safe sex' practice. Sociology of Health and Illness 15: 246–256. DOI: 10.1111/1467-9566.ep11346891