Consent doesn’t depend on making perfect choices.

A note before we begin: this is a heavier piece than we usually share, but the Cornell case has been playing on our minds. We’re not here to rant or to decide the facts of a case that is still under investigation. We just want to say our piece about the wider questions it raises.

The case involves a former Cornell student, known in court papers as Jane Doe. She alleges that, in 2024, she was given alcohol and drugs at a US fraternity house and sexually assaulted after becoming incapacitated. No criminal charges were brought at the time, but the investigation has since been reopened. The allegations have not been determined in court, and some of the men named have denied wrongdoing or involvement.

Since the story became public, much of the conversation has turned to her choices: what she drank, where she went, what she remembers and what she said afterwards. Those details may matter as investigators establish what happened. But when we focus on them, it can become easy to lose sight of the most important question: was she able to choose what happened to her?

We all make choices we might later regret. We can and should take responsibility for our own decisions. But choosing to drink, go to a party or spend time with someone is not the same as agreeing to every sexual act that might follow. One choice does not give another person permission to make the next one for you.

In England and Wales, consent means agreeing by choice, with the freedom and capacity to make that choice. The Crown Prosecution Service says that someone who is very drunk or under the influence of drugs may lack that capacity. The law in another country is different, and the facts of this case are still being investigated. But the principle matters wherever we are: consent must be a choice someone is able to make.

If Jane Doe’s account is borne out, there came a point when that choice was taken away from her. At that point, other people were making the decision for her.

For us, this is also about how we treat people around us. If someone is vulnerable or unable to make a choice, our response should be care. That basic responsibility shouldn’t depend on someone’s gender, race, age, how much they have had to drink, or whether we think they have made good decisions.

We can talk about accountability without making someone responsible for another person’s actions. We can wait for the evidence without turning uncertainty into blame.

When someone may no longer have been able to choose, perhaps the question we should start with is: who was in a position to show care, and what did they do?