We need to talk about kink and consent. That's what this Jian Ghomeshi situation has made me realize -- regardless of the truth of what went down between the popular radio host and the three young women making allegations of sexual abuse against him.
If you've been following this story, as so many of us are, you know that Ghomeshi was the host of the CBC's "Q," a Canadian pop culture show with an intellectual flare. That is, until he was fired after "information" came to light that the broadcaster said "precludes" continuing his employment.
Ghomeshi claimed in a Facebook post that his firing was the result of sexual moralizing on the CBC's part. “I have always been interested in a variety of activities in the bedroom but I only participate in sexual practices that are mutually agreed upon, consensual, and exciting for both partners,” Ghomeshi said. “Let me be the first to say that my tastes in the bedroom may not be palatable to some folks. They may be strange, enticing, weird, normal, or outright offensive to others. … But that is my private life. … And no one, and certainly no employer, should have dominion over what people do consensually in their private life." He added that he provided the CBC with "evidence that everything I have done has been consensual" and that "CBC execs confirmed that the information provided showed that t...
But there is another side to the story -- or several, really: those of three young women who allege that without their consent Ghomeshi "struck them with a closed fist or open hand; bit them; choked them until they almost passed out; covered their nose and mouth so that they had difficulty breathing; and that they were verbally abused during and after sex," according to the Toronto Star. One of the women said that ahead of their date he “warned me he would be aggressive." As she put it to the Star, "I thought this meant he would want to pull my hair and have rough sex. He reassured me that I wouldn’t be forced. [Later] he attacked me. Choked me. Hit me like I didn’t know men hit women. I submitted." Another woman alleges that she was hit with his open hand as soon as she stepped foot in his home, and then he allegedly continued to strike and choke her. These acts were not agreed upon beforehand and no safe words were established, they say. Early on, the women allege that he made mention of kink and "when they failed to respond or expressed displeasure, they recalled Ghomeshi dismissing his remarks as 'just fantasies,' reassuring them he wouldn’t ask them to do anything they weren’t comfortable with."
There's also a former CBC employee who alleges that Ghomeshi verbally and physically harassed her at work and told her that he wanted to "hate fuck" her. I suppose that is somewhat tangential to a conversation about consensual BDSM, but it's relevant in the context of accusations of abusive sexual behavior.
Dan Savage wrote an excellent piece on the situation, noting that while we don't know the truth of what happened, what these women describe "doesn't look like consensual kink." Instead, "it looks like abuse." It is important to say that, so let me say it again: We don't know what happened between Ghomeshi and those three women, but what they describeis abuse. I am being so emphatic because I apparently need to be. I tweeted a portion of the following quote from Savage's piece: "The ability to produce e-mails or texts showing that a person consented to kinks A, B, and C does not prove that person consented to kinks D, E, and F; those same e-mails and texts also don't prove that a person who had previously consented to kinks A, B, and C didn't withdraw their consent during sex that included kinks A, B, and C." In response, someone tweeted at me, "I guess a written script for all encounters is in order? That sounds fun."
That's when I realized how important it is to have a conversation about kink and consent right now. It's easy to forget in the "age of '50 Shades,'" heavy on the air quotes, that kinky consent is still largely misunderstood. The truth is that "50 Shades of Grey" itself presents a horrible misunderstanding of kinky negotiation. Which is to say that it is largely absent from the book. The blog Blame It on the Patriarchy compiled a list of the book's fails, including "ignoring consent, "reacting to the sentiment 'no, I don’t want to have sex with you right now' by threatening to tie the speaker up, taking their clothes off, and … having sex with them," "not treating safewords as important," "not treating contracts as important," "not exploring and explaining limits" and "taking sexual advantage of someone who is intoxicated." It is fine as pure erotic fantasy, but it is an abysmally bad guidebook to practicing BDSM in the real world.
Let's start with this: It is not enough to say, "I'm going to be aggressive." Ambiguous terms do not work. Euphemisms are not going to cut it. Vague warnings? Not anywhere near adequate. I can hear my Twitter antagonizer now: "You have to get permission for ev-er-y-thing?!" Uh, yeah, you do. This doesn't mean that a literal script is typed up beforehand. It means that you broadly discuss which acts have a green light. If you're doing it right, it isn't a buzz-kill in the slightest. Instead, it builds anticipation and comfort. It can be flirtatious and fun. Clinical language isn't necessary, unless that's your bag.
The slight burn in your cheeks when you have to say exactly what you want? Hot. The blush on your partner's face when they have to say exactly what they want? So sexy.
This doesn't preclude spontaneity, either: You can agree to acts without specifying how and when and in what order they will happen, or if they will even happen at all. We aren't talking about choreographing or approving each and every slight retinal movement. You don't have to get explicit permission beforehand to, say, lightly give your partner butterfly kisses -- although it's a good idea to pay attention to how your partner reacts to anything you do and check in throughout to make sure that they're feeling it. But when it comes to aggressive acts, everything should be clearly discussed. That's because one person's definition of "rough" can be another person's version of either "vanilla" or "violence," or any degree in-between. This is what you do when you are turned on by consensual kink and not by trespassing personal boundaries. There is a big difference.
It's no surprise that there is confusion about kinky consent. There is confusion about vanilla consent, as became so painfully clear around discussions of California's affirmative consent law. Consent for sex -- whether it's "aggressive" or otherwise -- is not a blank check. You don't just get to fill in whatever figures you want and see if the check bounces. Consent to one thing is not consent to any and all things. As Savage put it -- and yes, I'm quoting it again because it's just that important -- "that a person consented to kinks A, B, and C does not prove that person consented to kinks D, E, and F" or that they didn't "withdraw their consent during sex that included kinks A, B, and C." Consent is an ongoing interaction, and it can be withdrawn at any time in any type of relationship. If you aren't comfortable with the level of communication required for that, you shouldn't be having sex.
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