CW: sexual violence
It is often well-intentioned, stereotypically ‘progressive’ people who argue against the need for Freshers’ Week consent training, or at least find it obsolete. This includes even those who are the most committed to dismantling rape culture, as well as those who are aware that sexual violence is horrific; something that they would never dream of committing. They might think those who really need the training won’t be receptive anyway, so what’s the point? Those who oppose rape culture might feel comfortable that they would never jeopardise someone else’s bodily autonomy, and think that those who could are a separate class of citizen; no amount of healthy discussion can be expected to save them, especially not an hour’s worth while hungover on a Wednesday afternoon. However, even thinking this unconsciously contributes towards a dangerous culture of complacency, ignoring the very nature of sociopolitical progress and how it manifests across time.
During Freshers’ Week consent training, I heard people say that choking is a normal, expected part of sex. I also heard the term ‘normal sex’ batted around a lot, without any real attempt to actually explain what this was, or what exactly people are consenting to when engaging in it. In reality, ‘normal sex’ is a vast umbrella term for an array of acts.
These oversimplifications are not inherently sinister, nor were they spoken by people whom I’d deem deeply ignorant and apathetic towards consent, such as the bigoted types you’d expect to see in a TV drama that stages sexual violence. What these assumptions do signify is the necessity to rid our minds of sociosexual scripts.
Sociosexual script theory was first coined by the sociologists John Gagnon and William Simon in 1973. It refers to the internalisation of societal norms, which can dictate how people act in sexual situations: often sex is informed by expectations of what is ‘normal’, as well as, or even more so than, preference. The theory becomes especially pertinent when thinking about gender roles and sexuality in sexual encounters. It’s not out of the ordinary to feel that you need to do something in a ‘mainstream’ or ‘conventional’ way, nor does it make you a bad person. What this can do, however, is make you feel pressured to enjoy certain types of sex more so than others, and make it unclear what is being consented to when sex is brought up. For example, sex is not necessarily just penis-in-vagina (PIV), even when it is between a cisgender man and woman. For one person, this might be the norm and to be expected. For the other, it might be deeply uncomfortable, or even not physically possible.
Sociosexual scripts engender a harmful hierarchy of acts, deeming some less ‘serious’ than others, and therefore requiring less informed consent. What might be considered foreplay for one person can be the main event for the other, and so what one person is happy to rush into might be deeply vulnerable for the other. Sociosexual scripts are also inherently heteronormative: when we assume that ‘real sex’ is penetrative, we exclude what might be the norm for two cisgender sapphic women, for example, as well as pressuring cisgender, heterosexual people to define safe sex in a specific way.
Choking and sexual strangulation are clear examples of this. Studies consistently show that there are significant risks and harms associated with this act, but what used to be considered a kink has recently made its way into the mainstream sexual script, with over one third of 16-25 year olds reporting being choked at least once during consensual sex in a study done in December 2024. There is a sense that this is both because of an uncritical approach to what is manifest in pornography – a disregard for its chauvinistic stagings and glorification of power dynamics – and also a desire to not be perceived as ‘kink shaming’. While there is merit in warranting people freedom for sexual self-exploration, it is essential that this rising trend is accompanied by an active dialogue about the dangers of strangulation, and the recent spike in choking-related deaths. In order to avoid situations such as these, kinks are often accompanied by ongoing conversations about boundaries, safety, and comprehensive aftercare, because of the awareness that they fall outside the bounds of the ‘mainstream’. The very act of shifting something from the category of kink to ‘normal’ sex requires reflection. When we make something a standard that was once physically threatening, and still is for many, people may assume consent, when open dialogue is required to foster a safe and comforting environment. Consent training, in this light, can be viewed as the absolutely essential counterpart to mainstream pornography, which engenders certain expectations if consumed uncritically.
Consent training becomes more pertinent than ever when we dispel ‘the monster myth’. This refers to the notion that sexual assaulters are inherently monstrous people, detectably evil and with no capacity to be perceived as normal people. It breeds complacency: people think that they are immune to violating people’s consent if they do not associate with this stereotypical ‘evil’ or disregard for their sexual partners’ welfare. Breaches of consent also result from lapsed communication and a socially-informed assumption of preference, which manifests as selfishness or entitlement. Sexual violence can be perpetrated by close friends, in seemingly mundane environments. Understanding this is also key to understanding why survivors might not fit the script that society expects them to: they might remain friends with the perpetrator, or not even realise that what occurred was a breach of consent until much later. After the recent discourse about the ‘Cornell 7’ and people discrediting Jane Doe for remaining close to her abusers soon after her assault, it is more relevant now than ever before that we dismantle all expectations for survivors, and understand how common it is that sexual violence does not necessarily manifest in a violent or explicit manner.
Consent is not only breached because the perpetrator does not care about the other person or is acting with wholly malicious intent. It can happen because of a lapse in communication, an incorrect assumption, or a misunderstanding between the parties involved about what sex entails. Complacency and misinterpreting consent as a case of monster versus human show a lack of nuance or ongoing reflection, both of which are key in understanding how to achieve attuned consent. This is why consent training is still important – the people who are receptive to it are still the people who need it.
As co-president of ItHappensHere, an anti-sexual violence campaign for Oxford University students, I call for all colleges to have consistent and comprehensive consent training, including for postgraduates. It is essential that we foster a space where survivors know that their concerns are cared for, that their experiences count, and that there are people who are committed to creating an environment of informed consent. They deserve to know that the culture of complacency is being dismantled, one hour-long session at a time.
survivorspace.org.uk [Oxford based]
