Eight women have come forward with sexual assault allegations against Canadian radio celebrity Jian Ghomeshi, and yet the public is still hesitant to believe them.
Until this past Sunday, Jian Ghomeshi was Canada’s boyfriend. The co-creator and longtime host of ‘Q,’ an immensely popular radio program with CBC, 47-year-old Ghomeshi was respected and admired nationally and internationally.
Canada has broken up with Jian Ghomeshi.
The public broadcast network stated Sunday they had ended their relationship with Ghomeshi. Later that day, Ghomeshi issued a long, candid Facebook post to explain that he was being harassed by a “jilted ex” who was trying to smear his reputation with allegations that she had been sexually abused. In this carefully crafted post, Ghomeshi explained about his preferences for BDSM and rough sex but insisted that it had always been consensual. He presented his dismissal from longtime employer CBC as being the result of “the risk of my private sex life being made public.” He presented himself as a victim of discrimination on the basis of sexual practices.
Since we know Ghomeshi has hired a crisis management PR firm to help tackle the fallout from this situation, we can only read his pre-emptive post as a well-executed attempt to control the narrative and reframe the specific allegations he knew would be released in the days to come. And released they were.
According to the latest Toronto Star report, there are now eight women who allege Jian Ghomeshi was violent toward them. That’s four more complaints in addition to the initial four women the Star reported on Monday. One of those women has publically attached her name to the case—Canadian television actor Lucy DeCoutere. CBC has now also released an audio interview with a victim who speaks about being hit on the head repeatedly by Ghomeshi.
The Ghomeshi story has morphed considerably since the CBC first announced he was no longer with them on Sunday. In the days since, the media and social media frenzy has been continuous and compelling. As a Canadian and a broadcast journalist, I am one of many people absolutely dumbfounded by the idea of Ghomeshi as a sexual aggressor. (It’s important to note that not everyone is so shocked—as Melissa writes here, she and others “Knew About Jian” for years).
I don’t know if the allegations are true, and I’m not here to condemn him. I do, however, want to talk about some of the issues that have arisen as a result of these allegations.
The assumption that it’s easy for women to report sexual violence and the expectation that they should, regardless of the personal consequences
The absence of a formal police report does not mean violence didn’t occur. It was baffling to witness the deluge of statements of support for Ghomeshi as soon as his statement was issued. Legions of fans accepted his statement of the facts and were quick to believe the tired stereotype of the bitter ex-girlfriend. It’s one thing to refrain judgment until more is known. It’s another thing entirely to think a conniving woman’s elaborate, false, smear campaign against a prominent media personality is more likely, more plausible, than the possibility that a man hit a woman.
Many people were quick to ask why a woman who was sexually assaulted or beaten wouldn’t go to police. Why wouldn’t she attach her name, her identity, her career, her future, to an accusation against an older, richer, more powerful, widely beloved man?
Because no one wants to face the emotional turmoil and notoriety of publicly taking on a powerful celebrity.
Why don’t victims report sexual violence? Canadian writer Tessa J. Brown will tell you. She writes, “You can say that it’s on me if the man who assaulted me does it to other women, as I’m sure he has. But it’s not just on me. It’s on a culture that demands we come forward, and castigates us if we do. It’s on a culture that will take a man’s word as gospel, but which demands women be ‘perfect victims’—a constantly shifting goalpost if I ever saw one. It’s not just on me: It’s on us.”
Sexual privacy, freedom, and BDSM
Talk of Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, and Masochism has entered the public vernacular more this week than since Fifty Shades of Grey was published.
It is highly unlikely that CBC would dismiss Ghomeshi, a hugely popular and beloved show host, without significant deliberation and compelling evidence that his behavior is, indeed “unbecoming” and, possibly, illegal. It is highly unlikely that they would risk the success of a popular show and invite a tangly, high profile lawsuit based on being “prudish” or simply finding his bedroom practices unpalatable.
There has been a rush to condemn the employer, in this case CBC, for peeping into the proverbial bedroom and invading Ghomeshi’s private sexual life. I’ve read many takes on “what he does in his own home is his business” and “CBC has no place in the bedroom” as well as commentaries that masquerade as being sexually liberal and open-minded when really they’re overlooking the allegations of sexual violence that cannot and should not be lumped into “part of that BDSM stuff.” (For a deeper analysis of the BDSM components of this issue, read Andrea Zanin here).
This is not about discrimination against BDSM sexual practices. This is about women coming forward with allegations of sexual violence and non-consensual aggressive acts. Up until yesterday, when more allegations were released, I noticed many people focusing solely on the salacious details of Ghomeshi’s sexual revelations, only to be distracted from the real issue: the potential that sexual violence occurred.
The titillation of learning about a celebrity’s sex life, of wrapping one’s head around what BDSM and, to quote Ghomeshi, “rough sex” means, is redirecting attention away from the sexual violence that has been alleged.
It is important that this conversation doesn’t result in characterizing BDSM as deviant. That would be, frankly, untrue and certainly unfair to all the consenting adults who engage in BDSM or kink.
BDSM does not equal sexual violence, yet sexual violence and non-consensual practices can arise out of otherwise healthy, consensual BDSM practices.
I’m an ardent supporter of personal autonomy and sexual freedom. I don’t think anyone should be dismissed or have repercussions in their public/professional life because of their sexual tastes and practices, as long as those preferences are consensual and legal.
Why we need to discuss this
Sexual violence, victim-blaming, and the very real reasons many women cannot come forward, least of all publicly and online, are conversations that need to happen.
Stories of Jian Ghomeshi’s alleged sexual violence are not going away—this story is going to continue to develop and its intricacies will continue to emerge.
When discussing it, let’s remember that the “unbecoming conduct” that CBC supposedly learned about isn’t Jian Ghomeshi’s participation in rough yet consensual sex—it is alleged sexual violence.
Sure, your sex life is private, until it breaks the law or harms someone.
Zaren Healey White is a St. John’s, Newfoundland based journalist, web editor, and blogger. She is completing her Master of Gender Studies degree at Memorial University in St. John’s, having already completed a Master of Arts in English at McGill University in Montreal. Zaren blogs at Of Sugar-Baited Words.
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