If Someone Drugs and Rapes You, Call the Police
As soon as you can, instead of writing about it years later
I have gone back and forth on whether to write what I think about this New York Times story about actress Cissi Wallin’s Swedish #MeToo story. I hesitate because of likely blowback, but also because my position doesn’t fit into an easy category.
It began with a 2017 tweet in which Wallin wrote, “The powerful media man who drugged and raped me in 2006 is named” (the name is blurred at the top of the graphics, but you’ll see it if you read on.)
The first lesson any woman should take away from Wallin's story is: If you are drugged and raped, call the police right away.
Don’t wait.
When victims report assaults as quickly as possible, authorities are able to investigate, collect physical evidence and prosecute. There’s no reason to be silent. Swift reporting also should take take any politics out of prosecuting what should be seen as a violent criminal offense.
Also, if you wait, you basically signal that you aren’t sure that there is a solid criminal case. And if a victim isn’t sure she is a victim, or that a prosecutor can win in court, why would a jury convict?
From Jenny Nordberg’s story:
The case was never prosecuted: As with many rape cases, Ms. Wallin had taken years to report the alleged assault — in her case, the encounter took place in 2006, and she reported it in 2011 — and after the police investigated, it was determined there wasn’t enough evidence for a prosecution that could lead to a conviction.
Of course, the police didn’t think they could convict in 2011. If a victim waits five years to report a crime, authorities don’t have much evidence.
If a victim waits 11 years to make an accusation, the incident only can be tried in the court of public opinion — and that arena is subject to abuse.
Don’t rely on anonymous accusers.
At least in America, the accused has a right to face his or her accusers. You don’t dump constitutional protections because adult victims feel uncomfortable, unless you want to shred the Constitution for all crimes.
Protecting the identity of minor victims in such cases is a different matter.
Ditto when victims report an offense in a timely manner. Their identity is supposed to be shielded pending an investigation and possible prosecution. If a case goes to trial, many newspapers may choose not to report a victim’s name. It’s a matter of discretion, not censorship.
The burden of proof is on the accuser.
Justice Clarence Thomas was right to call the Anita Hill hearings a “high-tech lynching.” The burden of proof had been dumped on him — not the accuser, even though the accusation was brought to light suspiciously in the heat of a partisan confirmation battle in which the notoriously ill-behaved Sen. Ted Kennedy participated.
I still believe Clarence Thomas. Hill’s accusation was undercut not only by its opportunistic timing, but also by her decision to follow Thomas from one federal agency to another.
It’s downright offensive that feminists embraced the narrative that a female lawyer understandably didn’t have the spine to not follow her alleged tormenter for career reasons.
Sweden’s defamation law wrongly muzzles accusers.
The man whom Wallin accused, commentator Fredrik Virtanen, was able to sue Wallin for damages — and he won in part because he didn’t have to prove her accusation was false.
Nordberg explained the Swedish system recognized defamation even for a true story because:
To be an outcast in such a society has different and potentially more extreme consequences than in the United States, and the strict legislation around defamation reflects the importance of protecting each citizen’s right to remain a part of the collective.
“You could even be convicted for defaming a criminal,” Mr. Bergman said. “If it means other people could look down on that person, it doesn’t matter whether something has been proved in court; it could still be defamation. That’s how valuable the right for anyone to participate and reintegrate in society is viewed.”
Wallin’s conviction is not merely for a civil tort. She now is a convicted criminal, and she may go to jail.
Be glad you live in a country with the First Amendment.
Book-burning 2024
The Swedish government, the Times reports, also is about to prosecute Wallin for self-publishing her memoir and will seek to destroy all copies of the book.
Wallin is right here.
I’d spent a few days watching Ms. Wallin prepare for her court date and practice what she wanted to say: “When the right to choose what happens to your own body is taken from you, when someone else decides what should happen to it,” she’d say, “then, you should at least have the right to speak about it. That’s just as important. I believe it’s a basic human right to be able to tell your own story.”
Let’s end the enabling.
According to Wallin, the event in question occurred in 2006 — 15 years after the Anita Hill hearings.
In 1991, America was a different country. Men held all the cards and women interested in moving up the ladder had to navigate carefully. Plenty of men believed that they were entitled to hit on female co-workers, and it was the women’s job to say no.
Hill’s testimony signaled an end to winking at men’s boys-will-be-boys workplace behavior.
Good riddance to that era.
In 2022, or 2006 for that matter, women know or knew what they should do when men abuse positions of power and try to pressure female staffers into sex. When women don’t come forward, they give a pass for men to paw and intimidate other women with impunity.
So let’s stop making excuses for why, in this day and age, a woman might stay silent about sexual harassment. Yes in 1991, women were ashamed to come forward and to fear the possible consequences of resisting harassment.
But now it’s 2022, the only shame should be in not speaking up when it can make a difference.
Debra J. Saunders is a fellow at the Discovery Institute's Chapman Center for Citizen Leadership. Contact her at dsaunders@discovery.org.