A new duo of apps purports to curb sexual assault on college campuses. WE-CONSENT and WHAT-ABOUT-NO work together to account for both consensual sexual engagement (“yes means yes”) and unwanted sexual advances, respectively.
The CONSENT app works by recording consent proceedings, encrypting the video, and saving it in on secure servers. The video is only accessible to law enforcement through a court order or as part of a university disciplinary hearing. The NO app gives a textual “NO” and shows an image of a stern looking police officer. If the user pays $5/year for the premium version, the app records and stores the recipient of the “no” message, documenting nonconsent. The apps are intended to facilitate mutually respectful sexual engagement, prevent unwanted sexual contact, and circumvent questions about false accusations. See below for quick tutorials provided by the developers
The app suit is timely and its goals are laudable. These apps reflect a particular historical moment that intersects rape culture, emerging consent awareness, and norms of documentation coupled with widespread access to documentary devices (i.e., mobile phones with cameras and Internet capabilities). They address the issue of sexual assault on college campuses, which is a problem. A big one.
Although the problem of sexual assault has been around for awhile, it has taken hold of public attention over the last year, prompting news stories, task forces, protests, controversies, and I’m sure, lots of dinner table fights. Good. But like any festering wound that starts receiving treatment, things get messy before they get better. (Non)consent is not always clear, accounts can be imperfect (or dishonest), and, as the infamous Rolling Stone/UVA case revealed, a simple “victim’s word as Truth” approach doesn’t always suffice. The consent/nonconsent apps are here to clear things up. The CONSENT app protects the accused by providing evidence that consent did occur; the NO app supports accusers by providing evidence that sexual contact was unwanted.
To the developer’s credit, the apps start an important conversation and use readily available technologies to implement consent as part of the sexual encounter. I actually think the “No” police officer image offers a funny way to tell someone that you aren’t interested in fulfilling their request (sexual or otherwise), circumventing the uncomfortable task of rejection. But like most technological objects, made by people immersed in an existing cultural logic, these apps do more to reify troubling patterns than subvert them.
First, they reinforce the focus on campus sexual assault, despite statistics that put 18-24 year old women who do not attend college at greater risk. Of course, campus sexual assaults are a serious issue. But ALL sexual assaults are a serious issue. Nothing about the design of the app make it exclusive to college students, yet reflecting a tradition of concern-disparities along class and race lines, the apps’ discourse centers on those who attend institutions of higher education to the exclusion of those who do not.
Second, the apps demand recorded proof. Candace Lanius astutely points to the racism entailed in requiring people of color to quantitatively demonstrate their experiences of police mistreatment. So too, those who experience sexual assault are now asked to document their case—in real time. Record your “No” (for $5/year) or it didn’t happen. For those on the bottom end of a status disparity, personal accounts are not enough.
This is further reflected as the apps place the burden of proof disproportionately upon the person who experienced assault. One important difference between the CONSENT and NO apps is that the former records consent for free, but the latter charges to record nonconsent. In fact, the CONSENT app self-destructs if users say the word “no” repeatedly (the website does not indicate what number constitutes “repeated”). This means that the CONSENT app only records consent. Recording a “NO” comes, literally, at a higher cost. Keep in mind, CONSENT serves the accused, NO serves the assaulted.
Finally, the apps reify consent as temporally prior to, and separate from, the sexual encounter rather than part of an ongoing dialogue within the sexual encounter[1]. People change their minds. People come up with fun new ideas. Both of these are opportunities for further conversation. Consent is continuous, but the apps artificially bound it. This artificial binding is all the more significant, given the demand for documented proof. If people record consent, and then one party changes their mind or isn’t into a spontaneous suggestion, the record still shows consent. The person experiencing assault therefore has less than their experiential account; they also have to address a document that discounts their story. And again, documents weigh more than words.
Solutions to social problems can never just be technological. To presume that they could is to guarantee social problems will persist.
Follow Jenny Davis on Twitter @Jenny_L_Davis
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[1] Through communications with the development team I’ve learned that there is another app on the way that allows people who experience assault to record their story and then release it to authorities later if they so choose.