“And that’s more than I’ve thought about Russell Brand in about five years.”
My husband Craig said to me yesterday in response to a ten-minute rant about the recent allegations of sexual assault and rape facing the famous comedian.
When I eventually took a breath, he said: “You need to come off the internet.”
It’s probably true. I should go outside and touch some grass.
But I can’t.
Because I am so, so angry.
I, like the rest of the UK, watched Channel 4 Dispatches on Saturday night, which was the result of a year-long investigation carried out by The Times, The Sunday Times and Channel 4 into claims made against Russell Brand dating back over a decade.
The content of the documentary didn’t really surprise me. The title “In Plain Sight” says it all, really. The star had built an entire persona around his promiscuity and even regularly joked about things like how he didn’t check if a woman was “awake.” He even took pleasure in professing on stage his preference for dominating women (see mascara clip in the doc), which even reflected a victim’s account that allegedly took place around the same time.
So, like I said, this was a difficult watch but not a particularly shocking one.
What has shocked me is the public reaction to the allegations.
I have become addicted to doomscrolling through comments that argue everything from “this is a smear campaign!” through to (the most damaging) “Why didn’t they go to the police at the time?”
I’ve written in this newsletter before about how important it is to remember when you are chronically online like me, it can start to seem like everyone has a certain viewpoint. When, in reality, the minority often shouts the loudest. This has been exacerbated by algorithmic changes to Twitter, now X, under the watchful eye of real-life super villain, Elon Musk (who, by the way, tweeted in support of Brand before the documentary even aired).
Honestly, what I am struggling with most is the rhetoric about believing (or not, in this case) women.
When we ask why don’t they report? Are we really exploring the real reason why they don't report?As in, what stops people from reporting these crimes when they happen?
There are so many factors at play here… from invasive physicals through to poorly trained officers and shockingly low conviction rates; there are many, many reasons why people don’t report at the time. And, more importantly, in this case, why people choose to come forward now - anonymously and with the support of a national news network alongside other victims.
According to Rape Crisis England and Wales, 1 in 4 women have been raped or sexually assaulted as an adult. That’s over six million women who are likely reading these tweets and Facebook comments where both men and women vehemently argue in favour of a man who has evidence against him, over the believing the accounts of multiple alleged victims.
The investigation into Brand is backed by evidence, including text messages and even a visit to a rape crisis centre for one woman. And yet those women are still not believed.
“Why didn’t they report?” say people who are exactly why they don’t report: because of people like them looking to attack and discredit victims when they do. - Rebecca Solnit in The Guardian.
A quick scroll through the local newspaper comment section further perpetuates my suspicions that women are not seen and not heard.
It’s no wonder that women choose not to report if this is this reaction to an exposé carried out by investigative journalists over the course of a year.
If reporting your own sexual assault or rape means unearthing trauma, physical interference and deeply personal questions… and there’s still a high chance you won’t be believe, would you take that risk?
Many women choose not to.
I saw a tweet by writer Rhiannon L. Cosslett that truly summarises how this makes many women feel.
https://twitter.com/rhiannonlucyc/status/1703346976400581005
Think about that.
The crime scene is their body.
You can never leave your body.
I can’t look away
The whole conversation around consent, criminal justice and rape culture has been a painful one. I would like to sit here and say, “Protect yourself and log off”, but that would be hypocritical as I seemingly cannot.
Finding out that people you know and love are not only wearing tinfoil hats, but they are also choosing not to believe women, is truly devastating. In the post-Brexit world, it’s not unfamiliar territory for us to discover our friends and family members have different political and social opinions to us. But, when it comes to something that has
As many millennials will know all too well, contentious topics like this can bring with them heated debates over the dinner table. But, unlike a bit of banter over the efficacy of ULEZ zones in big cities, this is a subject where we have (quite literally) skin in the game.
And that’s not to mention the emotional fatigue associated with feeling responsible for educating people. Especially when many people have already found themselves with one foot in Brand’s rabbit hole of ‘awakening’ as he has built an empire on the basis that we should ‘question everything’ … even, conveniently, the women who accuse him of sexual assault and the media that report such news.
So, if you are truly struggling with logging off right now, then you’re not alone. Whether you reported it or not, my heart goes out to anyone who has been a victim.
Reply to this email for a confidential chat or comment below. I’m trying to spend less time on that dreaded app, but if you tweet @ContentByTheSea, you’ll probably get a reply, ngl.
In better news…
On a more positive note, I was very excited to tune into Being Freelance’s first Non Employee of the Week Award since the summer break. The community, which is run by Steve Folland, is a really supportive bunch of freelancers from all over the country. Each week, Steve names a member as the NEOTW… and this week, it was me!
That's all from me this week.
See you next Thursday (yes, this is a Thursday email now!)
Ellen x