top of page

Ep 132 - Back Porch Files: The Difference Between Risk and Responsibility

Oct 2
8 min read

There is a phrase that seems to surface almost every time a sexual assault allegation becomes public: What did she expect? Why was she drinking? Why did she go there? Why did she trust him? Why did she leave with him? Why did she go upstairs? Why did she put herself in that situation? The questions come fast, and almost all of them point in the same direction — toward her.


When we teach women to manage risk, but fail to teach men to own responsibility, we’ve only addressed half the problem.
When we teach women to manage risk, but fail to teach men to own responsibility, we’ve only addressed half the problem.

That is what struck me about the public reaction to the sexual assault allegations involving former Cornell students. The allegations themselves are serious and disputed. The men accused are entitled to due process, and the woman making the allegations is entitled to be taken seriously. Those things are not contradictory. But even before any court determines what happened, something else has already become visible: the culture surrounding the case. And that culture has a very familiar habit of placing the alleged victim under a microscope while allowing the person accused of harming her to quietly disappear from the conversation.


Suddenly, everyone wants to know about her drinking, her drug use, her judgment, her memory, her friends, her sex life, her decisions, and her credibility. After enough discussion about all of those things, the original question can get buried beneath them: What did the other person do? The moral spotlight moves. The alleged conduct fades into the background, and the alleged victim becomes the central object of scrutiny.


There is nothing wrong with talking about risk. Risk is real. Drinking heavily can make someone vulnerable. Going somewhere alone with people you barely know can increase danger. Leaving your drink unattended is risky. Separating from your friends can be risky. Every parent understands that. I have three daughters, and I have given them those warnings. Watch your drink. Stay with your friends. Know how you are getting home. Call me if you need me. Be careful. That is not victim blaming. That is prevention.


The problem comes afterward, when safety advice becomes a moral verdict. “You should be careful” becomes “you should have known better.” “That was risky” becomes “what did you think was going to happen?” Her bad decision becomes his excuse. That is where the line gets crossed, because a person can make a reckless choice and still be wronged by someone else. One person’s poor judgment does not erase another person’s responsibility.


Imagine a man goes to a party carrying $200 in cash. He gets blackout drunk and passes out on a couch. When he wakes up, the money is gone. Most of us would probably say he made a bad decision. Maybe carrying that much cash while getting falling-down drunk was careless. But we would not suddenly decide that the thief had less responsibility. We would not ask why he brought the money, why he got drunk, why he made himself vulnerable, or what he expected. We would still understand that taking the money was the thief’s choice.


Sexual assault and theft are obviously not equivalent harms. That is not the comparison. The comparison is about responsibility. A person can increase their own risk without transferring responsibility to the person who chooses to exploit that vulnerability. Risk is not responsibility. That distinction should be simple, but it becomes strangely difficult to maintain when the subject is sexual assault.


The same thing applies to consent. Consent is not a weekend pass. It is not a permanent license, and it is not transferable from one person to another. Someone can consent to one thing and not another. Someone can change their mind. Someone can become too impaired to meaningfully participate. Someone can initially be willing and later become unwilling. Consent belongs to a person, an act, and a moment. It is specific, ongoing, and revocable.


But we often make it complicated because complexity gives us somewhere to hide. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she is embarrassed. Maybe she changed her story. Maybe she is lying. False accusations do exist, and they can destroy reputations, careers, relationships, and lives. That matters. Due process matters. Evidence matters. Contradictions matter. No one should be punished simply because an accusation sounds emotionally compelling. But due process does not mean beginning with the assumption that the accuser is lying.


We do not generally treat accusations of other crimes that way. If someone reports a robbery, our first response is not usually to launch into a lecture about people who fake robberies. We investigate. We test the evidence. We determine whether the account holds together. That should be the standard here too: not automatic belief, not automatic disbelief, but investigation, evidence, and due process. Skepticism is not the same thing as reflexive disbelief.


And yet when sexual assault is the accusation, the moral spotlight often moves almost immediately. The accused person’s possible loss of reputation becomes vivid and concrete, while the alleged victim’s possible trauma becomes something we first have to negotiate. Soon we begin hearing softer language about the accused. He is young. He made one mistake. He has his whole future ahead of him. Do we really want to ruin his life?


That word — mistake — does a lot of work. A mistake is missing an exam. A mistake is backing into somebody’s mailbox. A mistake is saying something stupid while drunk. If someone knowingly exploits another person’s vulnerability, ignores a refusal, or continues when the other person cannot meaningfully consent, calling that “one mistake” changes the moral character of what happened. It turns an act done to another human being into an unfortunate event in the accused person’s life story.


Then comes the “bright future” defense. He is smart, talented, promising, headed somewhere. Maybe all of that is true. But why should potential reduce responsibility? Maybe he has a bright future. So does she. Maybe he has plans and ambitions. So does she. Maybe his future can be altered by what happens next. So can hers. The moment we mourn only one person’s lost opportunities, we have already distorted the moral picture.


Accountability does not have to mean vengeance. I believe in rehabilitation. I believe people can change. I believe the worst thing someone does at 20 does not necessarily have to define them at 50. But redemption is not the same thing as avoiding consequences. A second chance does not mean there should never have been a first consequence. You can believe someone deserves another chance someday and still believe they need to answer for what they did today. Mercy and accountability are not opposites.


None of these ideas are new. Social media did not invent victim blaming; it simply gave it a camera. In 1992, Richard G. Scott, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, delivered a General Conference address about abuse. The full speech acknowledged that victims often bear no responsibility and that fear and authority can make resistance impossible. But Scott also said that, in some circumstances, a victim might need to recognize a “degree of responsibility” for the abuse. That language matters because it reflects something much older than TikTok: the idea that part of the moral inquiry should be directed back toward the person who was harmed.


Did you do enough to stop it? Did you resist enough? Did you make yourself vulnerable? Did you make the wrong choice before someone else made a worse one? That thinking has deep cultural roots — legal roots, religious roots, social roots, family roots. After generations of repetition, it can start sounding prudent, reasonable, even moral. But there is a profound difference between telling someone how to reduce risk and assigning them responsibility for another person’s decision to exploit that risk.


That is also why the current political rhetoric around “protecting women” deserves scrutiny. The Trump administration has repeatedly used the language of women’s safety, dignity, and protection when talking about undocumented immigrants and transgender people. Governments should prosecute violent offenders regardless of immigration status, and women’s safety matters. But if “protecting women” is really the principle, then the concern should remain just as loud when the alleged threat is an ordinary American man, a fraternity member, an athlete, a wealthy student, or someone with a promising future. The identity of the alleged aggressor should not determine the volume of our concern.


Women’s safety either matters because women’s safety matters, or it becomes a slogan we pull off the shelf whenever it helps make some other political argument. The standard should be universal. If the evidence shows someone assaulted another person, hold them accountable. Where they were born should not matter. What college they attended should not matter. Who their parents are should not matter. How impressive their résumé looked before the accusation should not matter.


And maybe the most important conversation is the one we have with boys. We spend enormous energy teaching girls how to avoid dangerous men. Watch your drink. Stay with your friends. Do not walk alone. Do not go off with strangers. Trust your instincts. Be careful. Fine. Keep teaching those things. But what are we teaching boys beyond “no means no”? Are we teaching them that if someone is too impaired to make a clear decision, the answer is to stop? Are we teaching them that if they are unsure whether someone is capable of consenting, that uncertainty itself should matter? Are we teaching them that vulnerability creates more responsibility, not less?


I have two sons. Their mother and I did not teach them about consent because we thought they were dangerous. We taught them the same way we taught them not to steal, bully, or take advantage of someone weaker than they were. Because that is part of raising decent human beings. I do not want my sons merely staying barely inside the law. I want them to be decent men, and decent men do not look at vulnerability and see opportunity. They see responsibility.


Someone being drunk is not an opportunity. Someone being alone is not an opportunity. Someone trusting you is not an opportunity. Someone having said yes earlier is not an opportunity. Someone making a terrible decision is not an opportunity. Vulnerability is not permission. That is the line I wish we taught more clearly, because it places responsibility where it belongs — on the person making the choice about what to do next.


Maybe that is the entire argument. Teach daughters to be careful. Teach everyone how to reduce risk. Take allegations seriously without confusing them with convictions. Protect due process. Demand evidence. Believe in rehabilitation. Allow for second chances. We can do all of those things without losing the basic moral order. Risk is not responsibility. Bad judgment is not consent. Vulnerability is not permission. And another person’s vulnerability does not make your choices any less yours.


Because men are not weather. They are not hurricanes women are expected to track or thunderstorms women are expected to avoid. They are human beings. They make choices. And those choices carry responsibility.


SOURCES

Cornell sexual assault allegations, civil lawsuit, university investigation, and reopening of the criminal investigation - https://www.cbsnews.com/news/cornell-university-rape-allegations-chi-phi-fraternity-details/

CBS News New York report on Jane Doe’s 2024 Cornell police interview, including her statement that she could say “with 100% confidence” that she was raped - https://www.cbsnews.com/newyork/news/cornell-university-rape-case-jane-doe-police-interview-transcript/

Original CBS New York report on the civil lawsuit against Cornell University and seven former Chi Phi fraternity members - https://www.cbsnews.com/newyork/news/cornell-university-lawsuit-fraternity-rape-allegations/

Cornell Daily Sun report on Cornell University’s response to the lawsuit and the university’s handling of the Chi Phi case - https://www.cornellsun.com/article/2026/09/university-releases-statement-on-alleged-gang-rape-at-chi-phi.

The Guardian report on the reopened criminal investigation into the alleged Cornell fraternity assault - https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2026/sep/28/cornell-fraternity-investigation-alleged-gang-rape

New York Penal Law § 130.00 — definitions including “mentally incapacitated” and “physically helpless” - https://law.justia.com/codes/new-york/pen/part-3/title-h/article-130/130-00/

New York Penal Law § 130.05 — legal standards governing lack of consent and incapacity to consent - https://law.justia.com/codes/new-york/pen/part-3/title-h/article-130/130-05/

New York Courts Criminal Jury Instructions for Article 130 sexual offenses - https://www.nycourts.gov/criminal-jury-instructions-model-colloquies/cji2dny-penal-law-article-130

Richard G. Scott’s 1992 LDS General Conference address, “Healing the Tragic Scars of Abuse” - https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/1992/04/healing-the-tragic-scars-of-abuse?lang=eng

Trump executive order, “Defending Women From Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government” - https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/01/defending-women-from-gender-ideology-extremism-and-restoring-biological-truth-to-the-federal-government/

Trump executive order, “Keeping Men Out of Women’s Sports” - https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/02/keeping-men-out-of-womens-sports/

White House statement for National Sexual Assault Awareness Month linking sexual violence and public safety to immigration enforcement - https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefings-statements/2026/04/presidential-message-on-national-sexual-assault-awareness-month/

White House release highlighting alleged sexual crimes by undocumented immigrants as part of the administration’s immigration-enforcement argument - https://www.whitehouse.gov/releases/2026/04/democrats-empower-sick-criminal-illegal-alien-predators-to-prey-on-american-women-children/

White House statement describing immigration enforcement as a public-safety effort targeting violent criminals, including rapists and sex offenders - https://www.whitehouse.gov/releases/2026/01/border-czar-affirms-commitment-to-public-safety-removing-violent-criminals-in-minnesota/

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating

© 2023 by Train of Thoughts. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page