‘Yes’ to Sex? Students Consider What That Looks and Sounds Like

Dennis Drenner for The Chronicle

Andrew Rayo knows Towson University’s policy on sexual consent won’t make him look like a Hollywood stud, swooping in to hustle someone into bed. Today’s sexual climate calls for more caution than that.

Instead, Mr. Rayo, a junior English and theater major, follows the rules. At Towson that means getting a green light through “affirmative words or actions” before any intimate contact. He does that, he says, to make sure his partner is truly interested. He also knows it will keep him out of trouble.

“I don’t want to escalate something that could cause problems,” he says. “If I’m going to be kissing, I’ve already asked someone first. Having that in the back of my head makes it easier to think about my actions.”

Students at the Maryland university and elsewhere have gotten the message: They must have their partners’ consent before sexual activity. But many aren’t so sure what that means. Gauging sexual interest can be tricky for anyone, not least young adults. How to give and get consent — particularly when alcohol is involved — is something students are still trying to figure out.

In heterosexual encounters, many young men believe the burden of gaining consent is on them. How that translates into behavior varies from person to person. One young man playing beer pong at an off-campus pub here rattles off his own five-point plan, while others say they simply try to read body language in the moment.

Some young women at Towson say affirmative consent is a good idea in theory, potentially giving them more control. But they worry it’s unrealistic and unenforceable, and doubt that men are as conscientious as they claim to be.

“I don’t think once people are at a bar, this will be the first thing on their minds,” says Tori Malone, a junior. “You don’t think about the consequences of hooking up till afterwards.”

Like other affirmative-consent policies, Towson’s says no one can give consent when “incapacitated” by alcohol or drugs. But knowing how much students and their partners can consume and still be capable of consenting is difficult for them to determine. Some have heard that you can’t give consent if you’ve been drinking at all.

There’s good reason for the confusion. A group of sexual-assault peer educators here tells classmates that anyone who is too drunk to legally drive a car is too drunk to consent to sex. But the university’s Title IX office says the blood-alcohol level at which a driver is considered drunk (.08 percent) does not necessarily signal incapacitation when it comes to sexual consent.

A young woman sipping lemonade and vodka at a bar with her friends is familiar with the peer educators and their prevention campaign. She even has a pair of their “Consent Is Sexy” underwear, she says.

She also believes she can consent to sex when she’s “a little drunk.” In fact, she and her boyfriend often hook up after an evening of drinking. Just because she might be drunk, she says, “shouldn’t mean it’s no.”

Learning the Continuum

More colleges are requiring students to gain affirmative consent in sexual situations, through words or actions. Such policies are now in place at public colleges in New York and California, and are becoming common throughout higher education. They change the norm from “no means no,” which victim advocates say requires someone in a vulnerable position to resist, to “yes means yes,” which they equate with respect.

Affirmative consent, however, often contradicts how people typically communicate sexually, researchers say. Sexual contact is full of ambiguity and innuendo. People are often oblique about their wishes and intentions, allowing them to retreat if a prospective partner doesn’t seem to reciprocate.

Education programs upholding affirmative consent aim to make sexual communication more explicit. Teaching students how to get on the same page as their partners is sensitive. But pressure from policy makers and victim advocates to step up prevention and respond to sexual assaults has prompted many campuses to adopt the “yes means yes” standard.

Often a student who reports a sexual assault on campus says she did not consent — or was too drunk to — while her partner says she did. It is up to the college to judge, based on the “preponderance of the evidence,” what happened. An affirmative-consent policy shifts the burden from the alleged victim’s having to prove resistance to the alleged perpetrator’s having to prove permission. But that can still come down to one person’s word against another’s, with the crucial question often being whether the alleged victim was sober enough to give meaningful consent.

Towson adopted an affirmative-consent standard two years ago as part of a broader effort to revamp its policies on sexual harassment and assault. At new-student orientation, a group of theater students promotes the standard by presenting scenarios from a night out in a typical college town. The university also shows incoming students a popular video called “Wanna Have Sex? (Consent 101).”

“Consent isn’t just hot, it’s also mandatory,” the sex educator and feminist activist Laci Green says in the video. “Sexual contact without consent is assault.”

The dozen sexual-assault peer educators here at Towson deliver students the same message in a friendlier way. “If we say consent is mandatory, it pushes them away,” says Aly Smith, a senior and the campus’s lead peer educator. “You create a barrier if students think, ‘You’re here to yell at me.’”

The group also knows that, at least at first, telling students they must gain consent doesn’t seem all that sexy. But it’s a concept the peer educators say grows on students. “As I’ve gotten older, it is sexy to say, ‘Do you like this if I touch you here?’” says Rebecca Robbins, a sophomore psychology major. “It gets easier to do.”

Dennis Drenner for The Chronicle

At a health fair on the quad near the library this month, Ms. Smith and Ms. Robbins invite students to play a game called “How Sexy Are You?” When the women read cards describing sexual situations, a player’s task is to place each one on a continuum of consent.

The scenarios range from one person presenting another with a note saying, “I, Sam, agree to have sex with Tyler Doe on Saturday, February 18,” which both sign (“very hot,” because consent is explicit), to a student passing out from drinking and a classmate initiating sex anyway (“just plain cold,” because that is assault). In between are scenarios with labels such as “vague or ambiguous statements” and “partner is passive or quiet.” The prevention campaign stresses that even when there’s clear consent, it can be withdrawn at any moment.

Students who pass by express varying opinions on what’s realistic. “I don’t know how a girl would feel if you brought out a written contract,” says Stephen, a junior English and teacher-education major. “But I guess it is better to be black and white, rather than gray.”

Mori, a junior computer-science major, says asking for consent sounds “awkward” and would take some practice. For him, consent is less about words and more about subtle body language. “I always look for things to show if someone’s interested,” he says. “Things like how long the interaction lasts, where the conversation’s going. I feel like I’m pretty good at picking up on when someone’s uncomfortable.”

Although other students here say spontaneous sex is appealing — with no discussion or even much thought — coming out and asking for consent just feels like good manners. “It’s a golden rule you apply in any exchange,” says John Schmid, a junior studying mass communication.

Students’ Own Rules

Young adults are used to rules. But do they listen? With affirmative consent, students here say they’ll probably do what feels right to them.

Three young women in the student union say affirmative consent isn’t going to catch on without more instruction — and incentives. “Kids aren’t going to listen to this unless they have a ‘How Not to Rape’ class,” says Claire Hofmann, a senior. Yes, she’s been to health fairs like the one out on the quad. “I’ll grab a piece of pizza at the fair, and I’ll leave and completely forget about what they were saying,” she says. “There should be a class where you are tested. I’m here to pass classes. I’m not here to learn any extracurricular stuff.”

For some students, the rules of sexual consent don’t apply. “I don’t do the premarital-sex thing,” says Kyle Harrington, a senior. “It’s my religious background.” His friend Taylor Martin has the same philosophy. Her friends who do have sex, she says, seem less worried about consent than about not being seen as easy.

For Seth and Darcie, two students in a long-term relationship, consent is a constant. “In two years,” says Seth, “we’ve never stopped asking.”

Affirmative consent is one of the few things in so much discussion about sexual assault, he says, that actually speaks to men. “It tells you what you should do,” says Seth, a junior studying information technology. And it makes sense to him. “If you ask, and if someone says things feel good, you learn more, and you feel better coming out of the experience,” he says. “You don’t leave wondering, Was I bad? Was that not OK?”

Darcie says Seth usually takes the lead when it comes to sexual activity. But by asking her for consent, she says, he gives her control. “I never want to drive,” she says, “but I do have the brake.”

Even though affirmative consent isn’t necessarily a legal standard outside of college, it can become a habit that stays with students after they graduate. Out at a bar near Towson, Dione Jones Jr. outlines his five-point plan to try to make sure a young woman isn’t too drunk to consent. He developed it as a football player at Frostburg State University, after seeing athletes elsewhere accused of sexual assault. Mr. Jones graduated two years ago but still uses his plan.

First he asks a young woman if she smokes, and if she does, he offers her a cigarette. “If you can put it to your lips and light it without fumbling and shaking,” he says, he moves on to the next step. If she wants to leave with him, he takes her somewhere to eat, to soak up any alcohol she may have drunk. Meanwhile, Mr. Jones watches how steady she is. “If she’s weaving, that’s a sign to abort mission,” he says. He also observes her friends. “Are they following us?” he asks. “If she’s really drunk, her friends will be all defensive.”

Finally — if he gets that far — he asks the woman if she wants to go home with him. And if she falls asleep, “you have to let her sleep,” he says, “and explain to her in the morning that she didn’t have sex.”

Despite some doubts, students seem willing to give affirmative consent a try. Many realize they must. Judging someone else’s intentions or actions through the haze of alcohol is complicated, especially if that person is a relative stranger. But a growing group of “yes means yes” proponents has set the goal: redrawing the lines of what’s acceptable behavior and what’s sexual assault.

Robin Wilson writes about campus culture, including sexual assault and sexual harassment. Contact her at robin.wilson@chronicle.com.