Keywords

Young people are especially vulnerable to sexual violence. Based on Australian Bureau of Statistics data (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2021c), 43.7% of reported sexual assaults occurred when the victim was less than 15, 43.4% occurred when the victim was aged 15–35, and 11.6% occurred when the victim was older than 35. While reported sexual assault rates are known to underestimate the true rate of sexual assault (Australian Institute of Health and Welfare 2018), the statistics highlight a high incidence of non-statutory sexual assault victimisation in the late teens and early adulthood. Further, data shows that University students are particularly vulnerable to sexual assault (Heywood et al. 2022; Studeny 2020). There are several likely contributors to the high incidence of sexual assault during early adulthood.

Younger people are likely to be more vulnerable to sexual assault due to both their relative inexperience and relative lack of power (Heywood et al. 2022; Nisbet et al. 2022; Pearson 2021; Santelli et al. 2018; Studeny 2020). For example, they are less likely to have the knowledge and confidence to create and maintain their boundaries in sexual interactions and may therefore be more susceptible to peer pressure and social norms around sex or pressure and manipulation from authority figures or older adults.

Younger people are also more likely to be in situations acknowledged as high risk for sexual assault such as parties with alcohol and drugs present. Parties form a key component of socialising for young adults and these parties are key environments for voluntary and involuntary (e.g., drink spiking) intoxication from alcohol or drugs. Additionally, parties or nights out, for young adults are less likely to be supervised by sober parents or older adults and therefore rely primarily on bystander intervention by (often intoxicated) peers to prevent sexual assault (Studeny 2020). As such, it is crucial to understand how the intoxication of a prospective victim or perpetrator factors into judgements of consent.

Finally, younger adults are likely to have interactions with a greater number of potential sexual partners. With casual sexual interactions, differing expectations regarding the communication and negotiation of sexual consent have the potential to contribute to sexual assault cases where the perpetrator falsely believes that the interaction was consensual. In a committed relationship, people will likely learn their partner’s preferences and communication styles, making misunderstandings less plausible. However, the attachment to and knowledge of one’s partner that is gained through a romantic relationship may make potential victims more vulnerable to coercion. Further, if either or both partners believe that a committed relationship comes with the expectation of regular sexual interactions, coercive tactics to gain sex may be judged more legitimate. By virtue of the tendency for younger adults to have more sexual partners, the potential for genuine or feigned discrepancies in the judgements of non-consent communication and acceptable behaviours to gain sex is increased. Affirmative consent laws are proposed as a solution to prevent such discrepancies. However, without widespread cultural understanding and acceptance of affirmative consent, the risk of sexual assault occurring due to differences in consent judgements remains.

This chapter will explore ways that young people understand consent and non-consent, through a study of young Australians. It helps us to understand the ways that young people understand and interpret sexual consent, how they construe what might be consensual sex, and what might be sexual assault. Through this chapter, we decode young people’s understandings of consent and break down some of the specificities around certain acts and characteristics that can factor into people’s consent judgements. Read together, we can see that young people who participated in the survey did have a reasonable understanding of consent and affirmative consent, with the majority able to identify acts that were consenting and non-consenting. There were still, however, significant numbers of young people who were unable to clearly decipher consent and various forms of sexual violence, suggesting that there is room for more education around what it means to consent to sexual relationships in various forms.

Using Schema Theory to Understand Consent Judgements

Schema theory has the potential to provide a valuable theoretical foundation for exploring community understanding of sexual consent. Schemas are mental frameworks or representations reflecting generalised understandings of groups or events that are used in decision-making (Axelrod 1973; Bartlett 1995; Vernon 1955). Schemas are formed through life experience, education, and the perceived norms and attitudes of important others. The content of a person’s schema typically includes a script that the events are expected to follow and expectations of the characteristic and behavioural cues of those involved (Masser et al. 2010; McKimmie et al. 2012, 2014, 2020). Some of these cues might be salient across many people’s schemas, allowing for confident judgements by most people, while others may be less salient, resulting in uncertain judgements, or less common, resulting in differing judgements. When asked to judge if a sexual interaction is consensual, people are likely to compare the event to both their consensual and non-consensual sex schemas, switching between the two as additional information is received (Lee et al. 2021).

What Makes a ‘Real’ Rape? Exploring Three Archetypes of Sexual Consent

Schemas of non-consent will reflect people’s idea of what sexual assault looks like. For some, this will reflect a very narrow understanding non-consent, with strict criteria for the identification of sexual assault. This can be classified as a stereotypical understanding of sexual assault. Stereotypical expectations of the offense (e.g., sexual assault is a night-time attack from a stranger while walking home or to one’s car), victim (e.g., a woman who physically fights off her attacker and sustains injuries as a result), and perpetrator (e.g., a man who uses physical force) reflect widely held beliefs about sexual assault (Burt 1981; McKimmie et al. 2020). Though sexual assault can and does look like this on some occasions, believing that a sexual assault must look like this stereotype to be judged genuine is considered a false belief or “rape myth acceptance” (Burt 1981; McMahon and Farmer 2011).

Those whose narrow understanding of non-consent largely reflects stereotypes can be categorised as stereotype reliant. Alternatively, those with a broad understanding of non-consent which includes scenarios without positive evidence of consent (affirmative consent approach) can be categorised as affirmative consent reliant or congruent. Finally, the “no means no” approach to sexual consent can be seen to fit somewhere in between these disparate ideologies, demonstrating recognition of verbal resistance (e.g., ‘no’) unlike the stereotypical approach, but not requiring positive evidence of consent as is required in affirmative consent approaches. Collectively these three approaches, stereotypical, “no means no”, and affirmative consent can function as archetypes to allow people’s understandings of non-consent to be meaningfully categorised for interpretation. While it is likely that people’s schemas may overlap to varying degrees with multiple archetypes, exploring the specific factors in their consent judgments will make it possible to identify the prevalence of different archetypes for different aspects of their schema. For example, a person reliant on a stereotypical understanding of non-consent when considering the relationship of the perpetrator and victim, but a “no means no” approach when considering recognition of non-consent communication.

Intimate Relationships as Cues for Consent

Research has consistently demonstrated the impact of the relationship between the alleged victim and perpetrator, showing that the greater the extent of the prior relationship (i.e., married vs acquaintances vs strangers) the more likely people will perceive a sexual interaction as consensual (Australia’s National Research Organisation on Women’s Safety 2017; Humphreys 2007). It appears that judgements of consent or non-consent are also influenced indirectly by the relationship of the victim and perpetrator. When a perpetrator and victim are described as acquaintances (counter-stereotypical offense), the behaviour of the victim (e.g., fighting back and cooperating with law enforcement, or not) is more likely to be considered in judgements of perpetrator guilt, and the blameworthiness and credibility of the alleged victim and perpetrator. The impact of an alleged victim’s behaviour on these judgements is greatly reduced, and sometimes non-existent when the alleged perpetrator is presented as a stranger (Masser et al. 2010; McKimmie et al. 2014). This is of particular concern given Australian data shows that from the age of 15, 80% of sexual assaults on women and 73% of sexual assaults on men were perpetrated by someone known to the victim (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2021b).

Discrepancies between identification of stranger and acquaintance rape might also be attributable to the events that typically precede an incident of acquaintance rape. Victim behaviours like allowing men to pick them up for dates, accepting expensive dinners from the man or going home with the man, wearing revealing clothing, flirting, and initiating a sexual interaction by kissing the other person are often perceived to be communicating a willingness to have sex and have been linked to the attribution of blame to victims of sexual assault, particularly in cases where the victim and perpetrator are acquainted (Australia’s National Research Organisation on Women’s Safety 2017; Burt 1981; Humphreys 2007; Jozkowski et al. 2014; Lee et al. 2021; McMahon and Farmer 2011; Muehlenhard and Rodgers 1998; Osman 2011; Payne et al. 1999; Shotland and Goodstein 1983). For example, 10% of survey respondents (Australia’s National Research Organisation on Women’s Safety 2017) thought a man was justified in having sex with a woman after she attempted to push him away when the woman, instead of the man, initiated kissing and brought the man into the bedroom. This suggests that for a substantial minority of the population, certain behaviours (e.g., initiating the sexual interaction) might trigger a consensual sex schema that persists even in the face of subsequent cues for non-consent. While scripts that include the events expected to precede a sexual interaction may factor into correct judgements of consent in cases where sex is consensual, temporal distance from the actual interaction makes these events, at best, ambiguous cues in determining consent. The failure to adjust consent judgements in response to more immediate indicators of non-consent shows a lack of understanding that consent needs to be ongoing in any sexual encounter. Promisingly, the judgements of most respondents suggest that attempting to push away a perpetrator is a widely recognised cue for non-consent and a common component of non-consent schema.

Collectively, it appears that the relationship between victim and perpetrator is a salient component of many people’s consent and non-consent schemas and that for some, pre-assault behaviours may trigger a consent schema that is resistant to switching in response to subsequent cues for non-consent. This highlights a need to understand perceptions of different forms of non-consent communication.

Consent Negotiation: Seeking and Communicating Consent and Non-consent

Research suggests that physical resistance to sexual activity is a common component of most people’s understanding of sexual non-consent and is generally sufficient to trigger a non-consent judgement in cases of acquaintance rape. However, less stereotypical forms of non-consent communication may not be as well recognised.

Widespread recognition of stereotypical forms of non-consent communication is to be expected and is not inherently problematic. However, non-consent schemas that rely exclusively on these stereotypes reflect false beliefs that “real” rape victims will always “physically fight back” and have bruises or marks as evidence of their victimisation (Burt 1981; Canan et al. 2018; Johnson et al. 2021; McMahon and Farmer 2011; Payne et al. 1999; Thelan and Meadows 2021). Further, while stereotypical beliefs about sexual assault do not appear to completely preclude the identification of acquaintance rape, it does appear that victims who are acquainted with their perpetrator are essentially expected to compensate for their deviation from the stereotype by behaving as a “model” victim (McKimmie et al. 2014).

It is also important to note that stereotypical beliefs around sexual assault are highly gendered, with a focus on male perpetrators and female victims. Although this reflects the most common presentation of sexual assault, stereotypical gender-based behavioural expectations can serve to reinforce rape myths and inhibit identification of sexual assault in cases where the victim, perpetrator, or their respective behaviours differs from the stereotype (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2021b; Burt 1981; Katz et al. 2015; Lonsway and Fitzgerald 1994; Masser et al. 2010; Sexual Assault in Australia 2020). For example, beliefs that idealise men’s sexual dominance and aggression, and women’s warmth and morality foster a belief that men should instigate sexual encounters and that women should serve as sexual gatekeepers who can be characterised as “loose” or “nice” depending on the effort required by the male to succeed in having sex with the woman (Burt 1981; Guerra and Gouveia 2007). Acceptance of this sexual double standard and conservative approaches to sex seemingly leads to the expectation that women are less enthusiastic about sex and underpins a belief in token resistance to sex where a “no” should be “persuaded” into a “yes” (Muehlenhard and Rodgers 1998; Osman 2003, 2007, 2011; Shotland and Goodstein 1983). If an alleged victim does not “fight hard enough”, based on the observers’ own arbitrary expectation, then they tend to minimise or discredit reports of sexual assault in the majority of cases. Of note, those reliant on a very stereotypical approach to sexual consent and non-consent may counter allegations of being part of rape culture by claiming to support the few “true” victims of rape who meet their ‘model’ victim expectations (Canan et al. 2018; Koepke et al. 2014; Masser et al. 2010).

The “no means no” movement, which gained popularity in the late 1980s, challenged preconceptions that sexual assault required physical force, visible injury, or threats of violence, and was typically perpetrated by a stranger (Popova 2019). A schema that reflects this “no means no” approach would crucially allow for recognition of sexual assault in cases where the perpetrator and victim are acquainted, and where the victim communicates their non-consent with a verbal “no” rather than physical resistance. As such, schemas reflecting the “no means no” approach would be incompatible with the idea of token resistance to sex and allow for the identification of sexual assault in cases where there is no evidence of visible injury (Canan et al. 2018; Osman 2007). While this represents an improvement on sexual assault recognition over the stereotype-reliant approach, it is still important to consider the impact of gender role beliefs when operating with a “no means no” approach to sexual consent and non-consent.

The “no means no” understanding of sexual assault fails to recognise that contextual or individual factors may prevent or complicate the direct communication of non-consent. Additionally, the “no means no” approach does not allow for gendered differences in expectations regarding the communication and seeking of consent and non-consent. For example, as previously mentioned, conservative gendered attitudes to sex reflect expectations of men’s sexual aggression and women’s comparatively low enthusiasm or even a degree of passivity in sexual interactions. Even for those whose understanding of non-consent includes recognition of direct communication of non-consent, normalisation of these gendered beliefs about sexual interactions might serve as a barrier to the identification of men’s subtler tactics to achieve sex, like sexual coercion (e.g., accusing the victim of deliberately getting them ‘all worked up’ just to leave them hanging). Compounding this misperception of non-physical use of force or pressure, normalising female passivity would likely reduce identification of passive indicators of non-consent such as a lack of response (e.g., lying still, not reciprocating kissing and touching) or an indirect verbal cue (e.g., I should go back to my friends).

Affirmative consent is presented as a possible solution to ensure all parties in a sexual interaction provide genuine and free consent, by demanding stricter criteria for judgements of consent and ostensibly eliminating ambiguity apparent in previous approaches to sexual consent. This would theoretically preclude misreading a women’s passivity as consent or inferring men’s consent based on expectations of their perceived higher sex drives. While affirmative consent seems an improved approach for reducing the incidence of sexual assault, it is not without limitations, especially amongst young people. Even amongst those who endorse affirmative consent, there may be differences in expectations as to whether this consent should be communicated verbally or through body language. Research indicates that women tend to show a preference for verbal, consent and non-consent communication, while men typically prefer nonverbal communication (Hust et al. 2017; Jozkowski et al. 2014). Additionally, the process of checking in with one’s partner and gaining consent continually may still be subject to debate. For example, is consent to kiss at the beginning of sexual intimacy judged to carry forward to intercourse, or do one or more parties expect continuous or ongoing confirmation of consent? This can be quite confusing, especially for young people or those with limited social and sexual experience.

Another consideration in the application of affirmative consent is perspectives on drug or alcohol use. Intoxication is known to play a role in both sexual assault perpetration and victimisation, particularly amongst younger adults (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2021b; Testa and Parks 1996). Historically, intoxicated women were more likely to be blamed for their assault, but more recent research shows a shift to considering intoxicated victims and perpetrators as less responsible for their actions (Croskery-Hewitt 2015; Henry et al. 2021; Nitschke et al. 2021). This shift for victims demonstrates that there is now recognition that intoxicated people are not capable of giving consent. At the same time, the law generally regards a perpetrators intoxication irrelevant (Queensland Law Reform Commission and Jackson 2020). The rationale for this is that committing an act of assault, regardless of intoxication requires action and intent, while being assaulted does not. Although this is seemingly consistent with an affirmative consent approach, where the onus is on the instigator of any sexual activity to ensure their partner’s consent regardless of their own intoxication, it is necessary to explore whether young people do understand this difference in victim and perpetrator intoxication.

Crucially for this chapter, the extent to which affirmative consent themes have been incorporated into the sexual consent and non-consent schemas of young adults is unclear. As indicated earlier in this chapter, when people interact with prospective sexual partners who have differing understandings of sexual consent, there is a possibility of genuine or feigned discrepancies in consent judgements, and this may contribute to sexual assault. If we are going to rely on affirmative consent to reduce the incidence of sexual assault, we need to make sure that young people not only understand affirmative consent but are equipped with the skills and confidence to ensure their sexual interactions adhere to affirmative consent principles.

The Current Study

Before developing and implementing campaigns to change societal understandings of sexual consent, it is necessary to evaluate where Australians currently stand with respect to their interpretation of sexual consent. This is particularly important with respect to recognition of less overt forms of non-consent communication, as these are the forms of non-consent that are most likely to result in differing judgements of whether an interaction was consensual. To further our knowledge of young adults’ understandings (schemas) of sexual consent and non-consent, quantitative research methods were used to assess participant differences in recognition of behaviours and characteristics that may be considered as cues for the judgement of consent or non-consent. Participants were required to be aged 18–35 and current residents of Australia. They were recruited and completed the survey through the online survey platform Prolific. All participants were reimbursed for their time. The analysis assessed the proportion of participants whose consent and non-consent judgements suggested they were primarily relying on stereotypical, “no means no”, or affirmative consent approaches to sexual consent.1

Behaviour and Characteristic Cues

The 379 participants responded to a total of 89 items which listed a single behavioural or characteristic component of the prospective victim (43 items) and perpetrator (46 items). These components were presented as single items to make it possible to disentangle the individual impact of these factors on consent judgements. The order in which the participants were presented with the victim and perpetrator cues was randomised to avoid order effects. Participants were instructed to ‘indicate the extent to which each of the statements suggest that a sexual interaction would be’ (1) Non-consensual, (2) Likely non-consensual, (3) Irrelevant or inconclusive (I’m not sure), (4) Likely consensual, (5) Consensual. Schema theory and a wide literature review led to the identification of five key areas of interest:

  1. 1.

    The victim–perpetrator relationship

    1. a.

      Stranger/just met, colleagues, friends, date, couple, married

  2. 2.

    Non-relevant victim behaviours

    1. a.

      Sexy underwear, apartment invite, initiating kissing

  3. 3.

    Prospective victim behaviour

    1. a.

      Verbal: consent (e.g., encouragement with dirty talk), active non-consent (e.g., “no”), passive non-consent (e.g., should go—home/back to friends)

    2. b.

      Physical: consent (e.g., reciprocal touching), active non-consent (e.g., pushing the other person away), passive non-consent (e.g., lying still)

  4. 4.

    Prospective perpetrator behaviour

    1. a.

      Consent seeking (e.g., asking after comfort of partner), consent ambivalence/disregard (e.g., does not attempt to check consent), sexual coercion (e.g., accuses victim of leading them on), non-physical force (e.g., drink spiking), physical force (e.g., holding down victim)

  5. 5.

    Victim and perpetrator intoxication

    1. a.

      Victim/perpetrator is drunk or on drugs

Within each of these five areas, categories for comparison (e.g., do people more readily perceive non-consent communicated verbally or physically, and actively vs passively) were determined based on both theory and participant responses.2 For this research, we were particularly interested in less explicit methods of consent and non-consent communication and negotiation as these behaviours are more likely to be viewed differently by different individuals. Additional statistical analyses were used to determine trends in participant consent judgements within each of the five interest areas. These analyses made it possible to infer the relative prevalence of views that indicate reliance on: stereotypical, “no means no”, or affirmative consent views of sexual consent and non-consent.

In addition to the victim and perpetrator behavioural and characteristic cues, scales from the established literature were used to assess beliefs about gender (Rollero et al. 2014; Spence et al. 1973), sexual conservatism (Burt 1981), and false beliefs about sexual assault (Johnson et al. 2021; Osman 2011; Payne et al. 1999). The participants’ ratings against these scales were correlated to their judgement of consent in response to victim and perpetrator behaviour to determine which attitudes best-predicted recognition of different forms of non-consent communication and negotiation.

Collectively, the findings provide preliminary support for moderately widespread acceptance of affirmative consent approaches, however, there are some concerning implications of the results with many participants continuing to rely on elements of stereotypical understandings of sexual consent.

Quantifying Reliance on the ‘Real Rape’ Stereotype

The relationship between the victim and perpetrator influenced consent judgements for approximately 40% of participants. Participants were most likely to infer consent when the potential victim and perpetrator were described as married or in a committed relationship (~50% of participants). In response to statements where there was a non-platonic relationship (prior sex or being on a date) consent was assumed by around 30% of participants and where there was a platonic relationship (friends or colleagues) consent was assumed by around 18% of participants. When informed the offender and victim have just met, around 10% of participants assumed consent. Although fewer participants assumed consent when the potential victim and perpetrator had just met, the finding that a tenth of participants indicated that having just met someone was suggestive of consent was surprising. This unexpected finding may be attributable to the ambiguous wording of the item. In phrasing the item to state that the potential victim and perpetrator had just met, participants could have inferred the cue suggested an interaction consistent with a one-night stand, instead of the ‘stranger in the night’ stereotype it was intended to assess. However, this still suggests that a tenth of the participants perceive just meeting someone as sufficient basis to infer likely consent in at least some contexts. When judging the role of the victim–perpetrator relationship, 10% of participants appear strongly reliant on sexual assault stereotypes of stranger rape and 40% of participants appear somewhat reliant on sexual assault stereotypes of stranger rape, with increasing degrees of prior intimate association judged as increasingly suggestive of consent. These results support the conclusions of literature that the victim–perpetrator relationship informs judgements of consent for many people (Abrams et al. 2003; McKimmie et al. 2014; Viki et al. 2004).

This has troubling implications for recognition of sexual assault as it does not reflect the reality that the majority of sexual assaults are perpetrated by someone known to the victim (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2021b). Further, it demonstrates a failure to consider the possibility of intimate partner violence. Unfortunately, reports consistently show that for women at least, the greatest risk of harm is from their romantic partners (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2021a). While most people’s relationships are not characterised by abuse, the power and control imbalances present in abusive relationships have implications for judgements of sexual consent: young people imagined sexual consent in many instances, especially for people already in existing relationships, however fragmentary.

Much like the relationship of the victim and perpetrator, some behaviours of the victim do not directly confer sexual consent, but they do inform many young people’s judgements about consent. As we saw in Chapter One, various actions by victims were understood as common signifiers of consent in the recent past, yet it is notable that there are many continuities even now. Examples of these behaviours include the prospective victim wearing sexy underwear, inviting the prospective perpetrator up to their apartment, or kissing the prospective perpetrator first. These behaviours were judged as likely indicators of consent by 31%, 42%, and 45% of participants respectively. This suggests that a substantial number of participants’ understandings do not reflect affirmative consent ideals as behaviours or acts not relevant to the sexual act in question may factor into their decision-making. Though it is possible that participants who, for example, consider initiating kissing as an indicator of consent to sex would be responsive to non-consent communication, inferring consent from the earlier behaviour demonstrates a willingness to assume consent for one act based on consent to another.

This is particularly concerning in light of research showing that for some people, consent to one sexual intimacy can trigger a perception of irrevocable consent which reduces receptiveness to even unambiguous cues for non-consent (Australia’s National Research Organisation on Women’s Safety 2017; Hust et al. 2017; Lee et al. 2021). This would be most likely for people whose schema is dominated by a stereotypical understanding of consent and non-consent. Though those more reliant on a “no means no” approach to consent and non-consent would be more receptive to at least direct non-consent communication, they may rely on these non-relevant cues when uncertain in their judgement of more ambiguous non-consent behaviours. This assertion is supported by the finding that participants who judged non-relevant behaviours of the victim to be suggestive of consent were also more likely to perceive subtle, passive forms of non-consent communication as unclear or indicative of consent.

It is also worth noting that individual effects of relationship and victim behaviour are likely cumulative when they co-occur. Interpreted in light of prior research, the results of this study suggest that as the extent of the victim and perpetrators relationship increases, the impact of the victim’s earlier behaviours will more strongly influence judgements (Australia’s National Research Organisation on Women’s Safety 2017; Masser et al. 2010). For example, if a woman wears sexy underwear on a date where she is then assaulted by her date, this may be more likely to be misinterpreted as consent to sex than if a woman simply wore sexy underwear and was then assaulted by a stranger. Alternatively, if a person goes on a date and invites their date up to their apartment and initiates kissing, this may be judged as more consistent with consent than if they just invited their date up to their apartment. Potential cumulative effects of relationship and behaviour should be tested in future research.

As stated earlier in this chapter, these relationships and behaviours may frequently precede a consensual sexual interaction and it is not unreasonable to assume that a committed couple are more likely to have consensual sex than people with no pre-existing intimate relationship. However, if these assumptions of consent influence or override judgements of more directly relevant cues, they may contribute to sexual assault. 

Evaluating Consent Communication: Paying Attention to the Prospective Victim

Given the apparent prevalence of people whose responses to non-relevant cues suggest stereotypical or “no means no” understandings of sexual consent, it is essential that we determine whether the responses to relevant cues are similarly limited. Participants nearly universally judged that attempting to push a person away (95%) or saying “no” or “stop” (97%) was communicating non-consent. Based on these results, it is possible to conclude that with regard to victim behaviour expectations, nearly all participants’ sexual consent and non-consent schema content is at least at the level of “no means no”. These forms of active physical or verbal non-consent were judged to be consensual by only 1% and 2% of participants respectively. The remaining participants indicated that the behaviours were irrelevant, or they were unsure whether they suggested consent or non-consent. This means that a small percentage of the population is heavily reliant on stereotypical non-consent schemas and resistant to recognising even the more explicit non-consent communication.

The majority of participants judged that lying still (76%) or saying that they [the victim] should go (75%) was suggestive of non-consent, whilst a small minority of participants indicated that these passive physical (4%) or verbal (5%) forms of non-consent communication were consistent with consent. It is likely that understandings of non-consent communication have progressed beyond a traditional “no means no” understanding for approximately three-quarters of the participants. This provides a strong basis to conclude that most young adults have not adopted beliefs like token resistance to sex and are able to recognise even relatively passive forms of non-consent communication (Osman 2003; Popova 2019; Thelan and Meadows 2021). The results also suggest that these participants are not relying on traditional gender role expectations in their judgements of consent as the passive behaviours would align with gendered expectations of women as sexually passive (Barker and Galliher 2020; Burt 1981; Guerra and Gouveia 2007; Osman 2003).

Of concern, around 20% of participants were unsure whether these passive non-consent behaviours were indicative of consent or non-consent. This is particularly troubling for those making judgements of consent from the perspective of assumed consent (either stereotypical or “no means no” approach). In these cases, the same uncertainty when judging a passive non-consent behaviour would result in differing judgements of consent overall. A person relying on an affirmative consent approach to non-consent would assume non-consent and be looking for evidence of consent. In contrast, for someone assuming consent, evidence of non-consent is required before they can shift their judgment to identify sexual non-consent. For example, a framework for understanding sexual consent that allows the assumption of consent may allow for a behaviour such as lying still during to be ignored or overshadowed by a seemingly clearer indicator of consent, such as initiating a kiss earlier in the evening. A person operating under this framework would then be capable of perpetrating an assault under the false belief that their partner consented.

Evaluating Consent Negotiation: Paying Attention to the Prospective Perpetrator

While perceptions of the potential victim’s behaviour are essential, it is important to note that victim’s behaviours and communication of consent or non-consent do not occur in a vacuum. For example, even an explicit “yes” may not indicate consent if a victim is giving said “yes” under pressure or out of fear. For this reason, it is also necessary to explore judgements of the potential perpetrator’s behaviour. The potential perpetrator’s consent-seeking behaviours, like reassuring their partner that there is no pressure to have sex and asking after their comfort were viewed as suggestive of consent by 82% of participants and as suggestive of non-consent by 4% of participants. This provides a baseline for comparison of judgements when the potential perpetrator showed a disregard or ambivalence towards their partner’s consent by failing to inquire after their consent and continuing to have sex with a partner who is lying still rather than participating. Approximately 76% of participants understood this behaviour to be non-consensual while 20% were unsure and 4% interpreted this behaviour as consensual. These results indicate that most participants recognise passive non-consent from the perspective of the perpetrator as well as the victim.

Sexual coercion was more widely recognised. When considering coercive behaviours (for example, accusing a partner of being a tease, or saying that the partner would do a certain act if they loved them), 83% of participants identified these patterns as indicating non-consent. Only 3% of participants judged sexually coercive behaviours to be consensual, and 14% of participants expressed uncertainty. While the participant’s recognition that disregarding or coercing ‘consent’ from a partner is fairly high, it is apparent that many are unsure of their judgements of these behaviours. Failure to recognise consent disregard as suggesting non-consent suggests these participants have not incorporated affirmative consent approaches into their non-consent schema and are instead relying on primarily stereotypical or “no means no” consent approaches. As addressed in the discussion of responses to the potential victim’s behaviours, it seems likely that participants who expressed uncertainty may rely on less relevant cues when judging similar sexual interactions. For example, many sexually coercive tactics occur within established relationships. Participants uncertain as to whether sexual coercion is consensual or not may then rely on their assumption that being in a committed relationship is suggestive of consent to conclude that an interaction is likely consensual.

The most obvious forms of non-consenting sex were widely recognised as such. The use of physical force to hold one’s partner down was judged to be non-consensual by 90% of participants and consensual by only 2% of participants. Pressuring a potential partner to consume drugs or alcohol, removing the condom during sex, spiking drinks, and threats of ending the relationships, career consequences, and physical violence were all judged as even more indicative of non-consent. The recognition of use of force and threats as non-consent is expected as these overt forms of pressure are consistent with stereotypes assumed to be incorporated into nearly everyone’s idea of non-consent. Responses to items around drugs and alcohol demonstrated that participants clearly differentiated between a potential perpetrator pressuring the prospective victim to consume drugs or alcohol or spiking their drink without their knowledge (involuntary intoxication), and the victim or the perpetrator consuming drugs or alcohol by choice (voluntary intoxication).

Does Intoxication Influence Recognition of Sexual Assault?

Participants generally viewed voluntary intoxication of the victim and the perpetrator as suggestive of non-consent, with the perpetrator being drunk considered the most suggestive of non-consent (76%) and the victim being drunk as the least suggestive of non-consent (67%). Of note, around one-third of participants thought a potential victim’s intoxication was not relevant or an unclear indicator of consent or non-consent. An additional 4% of participants thought that the victim’s intoxication suggested consent. This indicates a failure to recognise that victim intoxication prevents true consent due to cognitive impairment (many jurisdictions recognise that a victim cannot give consent if they are intoxicated by alcohol or drugs). Participants who thought victim intoxication suggested consent may have been relying on stereotypical understandings that reflect the idea that those who choose to be intoxicated are “asking for it” (McMahon and Farmer 2011; Thelan and Meadows 2021). While most participants understood that an intoxicated perpetrator suggested non-consent, around 20% were unsure of the implications of perpetrator intoxication on consent. These judgements reflect the role of alcohol in sexual assault perpetration and victimisation (Heywood et al. 2022; Leone et al. 2022; Nisbet et al. 2022; Testa and Parks 1996), but are seemingly contrary to recent research findings that intoxicated perpetrators and intoxicated victims are both considered less responsible for their actions (Croskery-Hewitt 2015; Henry et al. 2021; Nitschke et al. 2021). This apparent discrepancy may be due to a disconnect in recognising non-consent and attributing blame: more research on consent, attribution of responsibility, and intoxication is needed.

Contextualising Judgements of Victim and Perpetrator Behaviour During Sexual Interactions

Having explored participants’ responses to behaviour and characteristic cues, it is also worth exploring how their judgements of consent may be connected with aspects of participant demographics, their attitudes, and their judgements of other cues. Even with the restricted age range, as participants got older, they became more likely to misjudge victim behaviours like saying they [the victim] should leave, lying still, and attempting to push the perpetrator away as indicative of consent. Older participants were also slightly more likely to perceive sexual coercion and drink spiking as relatively more consensual than younger adults. Although we cannot be certain of the reason for the effect of age on non-consent recognition, one possibility is that explicit consent and respectful relationships education has become an increasingly common component of Australian sex education in recent years but was not commonplace for older participants in the sample (O’Flaherty 2021; Queensland Department of Education 2018). The potential link between consent education and perceptions of behaviours like sexual coercion and passive non-consent communication could be explored in future research.

Gender of the participants also influenced their interpretations of consent. Findings regarding non-binary participants should be interpreted with caution as there were only nine non-binary participants in the sample. Adequate numbers of men and women were recruited for the study so these findings can be interpreted with more confidence. There were gender differences in the judgement of passive forms of consent recognition with non-binary participants judging these behaviours as slightly less consensual than women, and men being most likely to judge these behaviours as consensual. The gender differences between men and women are fairly typical of research in this area as women tend to more readily identify non-consent and subtle forms of aggression (Card et al. 2008; Harris and Knight-Bohnhoff 1996; Jozkowski et al. 2014). There were also some gender differences in judgements of the potential perpetrator’s behaviours, with women more inclined than men to view a perpetrators failure to check in with an unengaged partner as suggestive of non-consent.

Compared to their non-religious counterparts, participants who considered religion an important part of their lives judged a “no” and drink spiking to be more consistent with consent. They also, unexpectedly, were less likely to view making the effort to seek consent as a positive indicator of consent. Compared to left-leaning participants, people with right-wing affiliations tended to judge behaviour as more consensual, including sexual coercion, drink spiking, and use of physical force. Participants who held more traditional gender roles, or who endorsed sexism more broadly, were less likely to recognise non-consent, as were participants who identified as sexually conservative, or who upheld rape myths. Specifically, more stereotypical attitudes to gender, sex, and sexual assault were associated with reduced recognition of verbal active non-consent, verbal passive non-consent, physical active non-consent, physical passive non-consent, consent disregard, coercion, drink spiking, and use of physical force. Given the widespread impacts of traditional beliefs around gender, sexual assault, and sex, the existence of these attitudes should be considered in the conversation around sexual consent education and intervention. It is important to recognise how intertwined these attitudes are to responses to potential sexual assault scenarios as they may inhibit long-term attitude change.

Conclusion

The findings of this research suggest that while the uptake of affirmative consent beliefs is fairly widespread, substantial minorities of the population of young adults are still drawing on a narrower understanding of non-consent characterised by “no means no” or stereotypical beliefs. Those who less readily identify non-consent communication from victims and potential perpetrator behaviours likely to foster non-consensual encounters are also more likely to rely on non-relevant cues in their judgements like the relationship of the victim and perpetrator and the clothing of the victim. This is particularly true of those who endorse traditional gender roles or sexist ideals, false beliefs around consent, and sexual conservatism.

This study of young adults highlights some potential limitations of affirmative consent. Efforts to implement affirmative consent in our society cannot ignore the complexity in which the negotiation of consent in sexual interactions occurs. As it currently stands many young Australians have adopted an affirmative consent approach to sexual interactions. However, this is far from universal, even in the presumably safe and anonymous online environment in which this research was conducted. The tendency to infer consent from a relationship is widespread and demonstrates a failure to consider the reality that most sexual assault is perpetrated by a known offender, often a romantic partner. Efforts to challenge more stereotypical approaches to sexual consent, need to consider the broader societal infrastructure in which sexual interactions take place. Participants who endorse traditional ideals of masculinity and femininity may be more resistant to educational efforts to increase recognition of subtler versions of non-consent, but recognising these forms of non-consent is particularly crucial in environments when a “no” isn’t really an option.

Notes

  1. 1.

    Ethics approval for this project was granted by the University of Queensland Ethics Committee (Clearance number: 2022/HE001066). Participants were recruited using the Prolific survey platform. Those who chose to participate in the study clicked on the survey link in the study advertisement. Before proceeding to the main study, participants were provided with information about the study and then required to indicate their informed consent to participation. Payment was awarded automatically upon completion of the survey.

    Data was collected over a period of 1 week in early 2023 after final ethics approval. The final sample consisted of 379 individuals (49% Men, 49% Women, 2% Non-binary, <1% Other: Gender fluid) aged 18–35 years old (Mage = 27.08, SDage = 4.78) and currently living in Australia (82% Australian, 18% Other). The original sample size was 383. One participant was excluded for an incomplete survey response and three participants were excluded because they did not meet the specified age eligibility criteria (18–35). All demographic information was self-identified by participants (more detailed demographic data is available on request). The majority of participants identified as Heterosexual (70%), Atheist or Agnostic (58%), white or white European (60%), centre left (40%), and middle income (47% $45,001–120,000).

  2. 2.

    Exploratory and confirmatory factor analyses followed up by internal reliability assessments.