When it was announced that Stormy Daniels, with whom President Donald Trump allegedly had an affair, was appearing on CBS’s “60 Minutes” for an interview, I knew right away that I needed to watch. Like many others, I was intrigued by the story of Trump’s affair; I also cringed at the idea of Trump in his underwear. My friends and I laughed at the stories Daniels told, equally entertained and horrified.
Perhaps one of the most poignant moments in the interview occurred when Anderson Cooper pressed for details about Daniels’ sexual encounter with Trump. Daniels said that after using the restroom, she then sat on the edge of the bed in her hotel room. Daniels revealed her reticence to engage in any kind of sexual contact with Trump, but, apparently, she “had it coming for making a bad decision for going to someone’s room alone.” All I heard in my head was, “Well, you put yourself in a bad situation and bad things happen, so you deserve this.” She went on to explain that she did indeed have sex with Trump, despite her reservations. Cooper: “Did you want to have sex with him?” to which Daniels responded, “No. But I didn’t — I didn’t say no.” And there it was — the explicit statement that this woman did not consent to having sex with Trump.
I don’t doubt that, as a result of Hamilton’s various Title IX programming, most individuals on this campus understand the concept of affirmative consent. The absence of “no” does not mean “yes.” This phrase is proclaimed through first-year orientation and Title IX training and is firmly established within our campus policy. Yet, here is a crystal clear example that violates this clause. Stormy Daniels never verbally consented. Daniels claims that the entire interaction was consensual and does not feel violated in any way. This is, obviously, a good thing. Still, this mindset of an extremely condemnatory sexual culture. Despite her complete lack of attraction to Trump — and her corresponding lack of desire to have sex with him — Daniels feels as though she is still at fault.
It is easy to say that Daniels was not at all obligated to have sex with Trump after he had bought her dinner and invited her to his hotel room. Yet this self-blame for unwanted sexual encounters is all too common among women, painting a fairly damning portrait of the culture of consent in this country. Much of the rhetoric around the #MeToo campaign involved women’s responses to unwanted sexual advances, particularly by older men in position of power.
Vice President Mike Pence has also addressed this problem, explaining that he refuses to be alone with any woman except his wife. The concept may appear as a precautionary way to avoid allegations of sexual misconduct. However, it points to a larger narrative in which men are not in control of their actions — and therefore unaccountable for them — and minimizing women’s agency and power. This narrative implies that if a man and a woman are alone behind closed doors, something is bound to happen. In this case, who should be blamed?
In an incident of sexual impropriety, the burden of blame too often falls on women. When women bravely come forward and share their experiences, every aspect of the encounter is suddenly up for inspection. “What were you wearing?” “How much did you drink?” “Had you had sex before?” These questions are used as a means to justify men’s actions and absolve them of any wrongdoing. As a result, women are made to apologize for the actions of others, continuing this cycle of victim-blaming and rape culture continues. This incident with Stormy Daniels is no different, with many even using her career as an adult-entertainment to justify the encounter. Stormy Daniels deserves better. We all do. Everyone deserves to feel as though they have complete agency over their sexual experiences, and not that such an act is “owed” because you didn’t pay for dinner.
The #MeToo movement has sparked a much-needed national conversation about sexual misconduct and accountability. For America, there is clearly still a lot to learn. I’m not trying to speak for Daniels’ experience or tell her how to feel. Still, we need to take a long, hard look at the consent. Are we doing as good of a job as we think we are? Stormy Daniels does not feel as though she was sexually assaulted, yet a vital piece was missing in her interaction with Trump — “yes.” In the era of #MeToo, we have to learn how to reconcile with the necessity of consent, even if it feels like one is fumbling with their words when asking to remove a sexual partner’s shirt or pants. We have to raise our standards in order to enact change.
