Due process

I begin this with caution and trepidation. I am a white, middle-class, middle-aged male, and I am going to write about rape and sexual assault. There will be people who will regard me as automatically disqualified to commentate on such subjects, because of my status; that it will be 'mansplaining' (how I hate that word), that I don't know what it's like. It is true that, in my 40 years, I have never been subject to any kind of unwanted sexual advances. (If I were being frivolous, I would say I'v been subject to precious few wanted advances, but I won't say that. Whoops. Oh.)

I was prompted to think about this after the acquittal of Ulster rugby players Stuart Olding and Paddy Jackson on charges of rape. A jury found them not guilty of non-consensual sexual intercourse. Olding's barrister, Frank O'Donoghue QC, summarised the case by saying "Perhaps a matter of regret now to all parties but such is life."

It got me thinking. Now, let me say right at the outset that OF COURSE rape is a despicable crime and there should be no tolerance for it or its outliers in a decent society, as the post-Harvey Weinstein world is proving. A man who forces himself on a woman is no man at all, and likewise the much rarer, but real, occasions of women who force themselves on men. Sexual violence is abhorrent to me, though I think it is important to remember that it's not really about sex, it's about power and control.

But. Yes, I'm afraid there has to be a but. Why is it that we have elevated this crime, among all the enormities that people commit against each other, to an almost-religious level? If a woman cries rape, she is assumed to be telling the truth, which flies in the face of one of our most prized principles of justice, the presumption of innocence. Now, I confess that it would take a very poorly mind - or an avaricious one - to make a false allegation of rape. But there is an insidious public belief which stems from this, that a man who is acquitted of rape has "got away with it". And that has to be wrong.

I was interested to read yesterday that Cressida Dick, the Commissioner of Police of the Metropolis and Britain's most senior police officer, has now said that her force should no longer automatically believe people who come forward with allegations of rape or sexual assault, and that they should be dispassionate investigators into alleged crimes. That must, surely, be right. A claim is made, the police investigate - under the presumption of innocence - and a decision is made on whether to charge or not, based on the evidence. If you boil it down, nothing else makes sense.

The insidious belief that the acquitted "got away with it" is very real. Nigel Evans MP, whom I know a bit, was accused of sexual assault a few years ago, and it cost him his job as a Deputy Speaker of the House of Commons. I will say now that when I first heard the allegations, I thought them deeply unlikely. A clumsy lunge which was rebuffed, perhaps. But that's life, as Mr O'Donoghue QC said. But physical, sexual assault? No way. Thankfully, and I say this because I like Nigel, the jury agreed. Not guilty. He didn't "get away with it", he was NOT GUILTY. Nigel has spent a great deal of his time subsequently campaigning for anonymity for those accused of rape or sexual assault. I know he went through the wringer and is passionate that others falsely accused should not do so.

It seems to me that anonymity is no bad thing, given that we continue to afford rape this special status whereby the victims are prima facie believed. Because the stigma will linger on the accused. One need look no further than the seemingly never-ending historical child abuse inquiry. The lazy reader probably thinks that Cliff Richard or Sir Edward Heath was likely a paedophile, simply without the evidence to convict. Mud, unfortunately, sticks.

I come back to the original question. Why do we privilege this crime over all others? It is a terrible offence, of course (it depresses me that I have to keep saying that). But there is some magic dust sprinkled over it, which virtually has the judge's gavel banging as soon as the accusation is made. We need to change this.

One final thought. The #MeToo campaign is noble and virtuous in its inspiration, but, taken to extremes, it risks weaponising the relationships between men and women. I have had relationships with junior colleagues at work. That they happened indicated they were welcomed, but, had initial advances been rebuffed, was I guilty of something? If I ask a pretty girl in a bar if she'd like a drink, am I a sexual predator? Those who know me would say obviously not. But that is where we are headed. We need to sit down and have a long, hard think about relations between the sexes. Clearly, there are disgusting excuses for human beings like Weinstein who prey on the less powerful and use their influence. No-one is excusing that. But there is a baby-and-bathwater danger.

Here endeth the lesson.