From a highly regarded feminist cultural critic and professor comes a polemic arguing that the stifling sense of sexual danger sweeping American campuses doesn’t empower women, it impedes the fight for gender equality.
Feminism is broken, argues Laura Kipnis, if anyone thinks the sexual hysteria overtaking American campuses is a sign of gender progress.
A committed feminist, Kipnis was surprised to find herself the object of a protest march by student activists at her university for writing an essay about sexual paranoia on campus. Next she was brought up on Title IX complaints for creating a "hostile environment." Defying confidentiality strictures, she wrote a whistleblowing essay about the ensuing seventy-two-day investigation, which propelled her to the center of national debates over free speech, "safe spaces," and the vast federal overreach of Title IX.
In the process she uncovered an astonishing netherworld of accused professors and students, campus witch hunts, rigged investigations, and Title IX officers run amuck. Drawing on interviews and internal documents, Unwanted Advances demonstrates the chilling effect of this new sexual McCarthyism on intellectual freedom. Without minimizing the seriousness of campus assault, Kipnis argues for more honesty about the sexual realities and ambivalences hidden behind the notion of "rape culture." Instead, regulation is replacing education, and women’s hard-won right to be treated as consenting adults is being repealed by well-meaning bureaucrats.
Unwanted Advances is a risk-taking, often darkly funny interrogation of feminist paternalism, the covert sexual conservatism of hook-up culture, and the institutionalized backlash of holding men alone responsible for mutually drunken sex. It’s not just compulsively readable, it will change the national conversation.
Laura Kipnis is the author of Against Love: A Polemic; How to Become A Scandal; The Female Thing; Bound and Gagged; and the upcoming Men: Notes from an Ongoing Observation (out in November). Her books have been translated into fifteen languages. She's written essays and criticism for Slate, Harper’s, Playboy, New York Times Magazine, New York Times Book Review, and Bookforum. A former filmmaker, she teaches filmmaking at Northwestern University. She lives in Chicago and New York.
Boy, there is a lot here over which to ruminate. This is a TOUGH subject and I think Kipnis gets some things very right and other things very wrong. First off, it's obvious that Northwestern uses a much different process than the one we use at UW-Milwaukee. I'm on our NonAcademic Misconduct Committee and have seen how we handle Title IX claims. While I am not always comfortable with the process and I agree that that the "preponderance of evidence" standard could potentially be problematic, I generally view our policies as meeting the dual goals of education and maintaining campus safety. In other words, I don't see the process as "big brother"-ish and wanton as Kipnis does. I tend to think the process to combat sexual assault serves its purposes, as outlined by the Department of Education, and not as this generation’s “Communist threat,” as Kipnis argues. But, Kipnis makes some good points too, especially related to binge drinking and the role of alcohol in consent to sexual activity, as well as points relating to female agency.
Kipnis spends a lot of time on professor/student relationships and I think that's where she goes very wrong. While her case and the other case she discusses were handled badly, her generalizations do not appear to be warranted. She reasons from what she calls "many cases" and emails she receives to indict the whole system. Without actual numbers and more data, especially given my much different experience at UWM, I cannot have confidence that her view is the pervasive one and mine is the minority. She would be far more convincing if she were more systematic. And, one of her bottom-line arguments is that it should be okay for students and faculty to have consensual sexual relationships just as it was when she was in school (more generally, she thinks we far too often equate sex with danger on college campuses), and I find that to be just completely wrong given the inherent power differential even if, as she argues, sometimes the student has more "power" in the relationship. According to Kipnis, this ban on relationships or anything close to them makes faculty sitting ducks for false claims. Indeed, she even challenges the view that the accuser is to always be believed (which is essentially what got her in trouble with the Title IX folks, given that retaliation against people because of their claims is also forbidden) and argues that Title IX cases have opened the door for revenge charges. She claims that well-known and oft-repeated statistics about the rarity of false charges concerning rape or unwanted sexual advances are wrong. She presents evidence about that, but I'd have to do more research to see if she's right. Her concern, generally, is with the rights of those accused, and I’m sympathetic to that concern. But again, I think she generalizes too far and fails to recognize the real danger campuses face and rightly wish to avoid of not keeping its community safe. She gets too close, too often for my taste, to victim-blaming, though she swears she’s not doing so.
She makes an interesting feminist argument about these cases though, suggesting that our treatment of these cases essentially removes sexual agency from women, persuading them that they are, in her words, “helpless prey.” We’ve moved from a time where women were tougher (basically her words) and could handle a man making a pass at her, to one where women (especially students) couldn’t possibly want to have casual sex and claim harassment for once-casual comments. While, again, that goes too far, I do think she makes some compelling points here, demonstrating how generalizations about gender affect the process. (I vehemently disagree, though, that women ought to just “put up” with the kinds of sexual comments they used to tolerate. Obviously, there is something wrong with a society where sexual harassment is rampant and women are expected to just deal with it.) All of this, she argues quite convincingly, is exacerbated by the campus binge drinking problem. When alcohol is involved in a sexual assault case (and on campuses, it nearly always is), many consent issues arise. Kipnis argues that when both parties are drunk, it is as impossible for the woman to give consent (Title IX rules) as it is for the man to know that the woman isn’t consenting and for him to make a reasoned judgement about his actions. Walking, again, a fine-line between making a reasoned, feminist argument and victim-blaming, Kipnis argues that we need to spend more time educating women about saying no and knowing themselves well enough to know what they want in terms of sex, about not getting black-out drunk, and about self-defense, and I think that’s all right. Thus far, we’ve spent far more time attempting to change attitudes and behavior of men, and that’s good too, but I think Kipnis has a point, that many of these situations wouldn’t have gotten where they were without excessive consumption of alcohol. That consumption itself is often aimed at loosening inhibitions and having “more fun.” When a woman regrets what she did under the influence, she might bring a Title IX claim, and that’s where, according to Kipnis, sexual ambivalence turns in to sexual assault, to the great detriment of the accused. It certainly should not be taboo to discuss the problem of binge-drinking on campus as it relates to sexual activity, though campuses have long been trying to address their alcohol problems, to very little avail.
As with most things, campus sexual assault and how universities handle it, is COMPLICATED. Kipnis raises as many questions as she answers, and had me vehemently writing “COME ON!” as often as I was nodding my head. I think the book deserves to be read by campus administrators and I’ll send this review to ours, so that they can join me in pondering the issues she raises. But, I also think she’s crazy.
The first four chapters are really just an expansion of Kipnis' Chronicle of Higher Education article "Sexual Paranoia Strikes Academe", where she argues that campus feminism orthodoxy inadvertently erases female autonomy in its quest for justice for victims of sexual assault. By taking on narrow conceptions of power, or so she argues, campus feminism forgets that non-institutional power can exist (conferred for example by youth and beauty). This challenges the simplistic narratives about how (institutionally) powerful men necessarily act in predatory ways when dating those without (institutional) power.
This argument along with a number of real cases of egregious title IX overreach would have made for a decent read already. But it's chapter 5 and the coda at the end that really introduce the exciting stuff. Here she argues that the earnestness of the campus activists and administrators in fact obscure the real issues: 1) party cultures on campuses where way too much alcohol and drugs are ritually consumed 2) Gender dynamics at play.
Regarding #1, she's clear that she isn't blaming victims, but insists that women consistently putting themselves in situations of diminished capabilities cannot be considered a win for feminism.
But the more interesting avenue is #2, where she asks why men and women actually behave the way they do. Does an obsession with a vocabulary of power flatten the real topography? For example, we all know the cultural stereotype of athletes in frats being particularly rape-y (not her phrasing). What then, she asks, is their appeal to women? Here she insists that we cannot understand what's going on on campuses without addressing how gender plays out in complex, maddening, irrational ways. Alcohol can act as intensifier, making some men play out stereotypical aggressive masculinity, while alcohol might help some women exist in the grey space between consent and refusal by keeping at bay inhibitions that wouldn't allow a sober version of themselves from going through. This might enable them to engage in sex, an activity about which a great deal of ambivalence exists, while not quite committing to it. This is pure speculation about how to understand what's going on, but is this narrative any worse that the now standard one about predators and their hapless prey? By opening up lines of questioning like this, Kipnis continues her broader theme from her others works about how people are messy, inconsistent, and often in acute denial about themselves.
The book is sure to draw criticism- unlike others Kipnis doesn't treat victims/survivors/accusers with kiddy gloves. She feels free to question, even dismiss, their accounts of what happened when the evidence contradicts it. And more contentious, she speculates about the motives of the accusers in her ironic, Freudian fashion, bringing a cudgel to the usual "believe the victim" imperative. But that's part of what make Kipnis such a challenging (and fun) writer. This isn't to pretend that sexual assault doesn't happen or isn't serious, but that we need to think about these issues while keeping firmly in our minds the fact that these are our usual messy human beings we're thinking about.
This is a horrible book, and I almost even hate to admit that I read it. But my Provost read it and I wanted to discuss with him and also have my finger on the pulse of sexual assault issues, so I dove into the cesspool. Without question, Kipnis is a snappy writer. She managed to parlay one moment of alleged victimhood into being the new Katie Roiphe, putting the hammer down against all sexual assault survivors. Her portrait of the two women complainants is worrying, and clearly unflattering. All Title IX officers are overreaching feminazis with no capacity for nuance or commitment to due process. If a feminist painted academic administrators or men with such broad brush strokes, it would be dismissed as polemic, but because feminists are the target, the book has been heralded as boldly speaking truth to power. How can the pendulum have swung strongly in the direction of backlash before sexual assault survivors have received even a modicum of justice or recognition? I am reminded of Haltom and McCann's symbolic Stella in Distorting Justice. As a professor, Kipnis's account carries the veneer of research, but she follows no qualitative or quantitative standards of social science, or even journalistic ethics of investigating claims. All men's claims of being falsely accused are believed at face value, all women's charges as spurious. Her own internal inconsistencies are staggering. She trashes women for freezing or not speaking up to then go on and render an account of when she did the same. Faculty who work against letting other faculty harass with impunity are demonized in the extreme. Instead, academia is one big summer of love, where the shared love of ideas translates into a simultaneous orgasm for all participants without any abuses of power. Women who are confused about their sexual power and agency are savaged while men who prey on them are, at worst, hapless victims of Fatal Attraction like false accusers. Ick.
I'm not sure I even have the words to express how poorly argued this book is. Kipnis' definition of a healthy college campus is one where professors should have free reign to date undergraduate students and anyone who thinks otherwise is a prude.
Her arguments are mainly red herrings and based solely on her opinions and "campus gossip." She spends time interviewing the accused but gives no voice to the accusers.
She repeatedly tries to hide behind being a "left-wing feminist," while trashing feminists of every generation. I wonder if she thinks claiming to be a feminist enough times will hide the fact that her book is thinly veiled misogyny and distain for the young women who are ruining her precious "free love" campuses where the best advice she gives is, "it's not assault, just bad sex."
Kipnis is a feminist who has been maligned and even faced civil rights charges because she has dared to express her views on Title IX related to sexual assault cases. Specifically she has been critical of the way in which the rights of the accused, usually men, have been diminished, usually in hearings on college campuses, and the academic freedom of faculty threatened. She was brought up on civil rights charges by a graduate student for an opinion piece she wrote, which the student claimed traumatized her in some way. Kipnis describes at length, the case of one senior professor, who had his career ruined, after a consensual relationship ended and another student, who stalked him (although Kipnis never uses this term to characterize her behavior) charges him with sexual assault.
Kipnis' primary criticisms are: 1) agency has been taken away from women in the current approach to the serious problem of sexual assaults on college campuses. Women are increasingly seen as in need of protection from predetory males 2) there is resistance to providing women with defense skills against assault because this is somehow seen as blaming the victim, and 3) an emphasis on the need to change the behavior of men. I agree with Kipnis' view that men who are most likely to commit these kinds of assault are less likely to be receptive to changing their behavior.
I was fascinated by some of the insights about the impact of the growing focus/worries/emphasis on Title IX related to assaults. This has become a big industry as various entities race to peddle training etc. to colleges and universities. It is a big deal to higher education because the failure to educate all faculty and staff on Title IX and failure to comply can cost colleges their federal dollars. Kipnis also noted the exponential growth of administrative positions at colleges. Paired with the dollars spent on Title IX cases, and trainings, Kipnis reflects these trends lead to the reduction in funding for college libraries, faculty salaries, and probably other kinds of cut backs. *
There may be too much detail about certain cases for some readers. I am not referring to unnecessary descriptions of assaults, but many many details about all of the ins and outs of certain cases. It is for that reason I am rating this 4 stars although in my ratings, that is high praise. I highly recommend this book to anyone working in higher education.
* An example of such cutbacks on my campus is a new so-called green initiative. All trash cans have been removed from classrooms. Faculty and staff have to empty their own trash and recycling at a central place on each floor. Our secretaries were the most incensed saying "it's not my job!". I interpret this move as a way to reduce maintenance workers. Calling it "green" is the second biggest insult after that of cutting jobs.
In her book, Laura Kipnis makes a joke about a young woman getting assaulted in the frat house, proclaiming, "I guess you couldn't see that coming." With statements like this sprinkled throughout the text, she both acknowledges that universities have a sexual assault problem while also declaring they are all struck by a "sexual paranoia." Which one is it? If something happens to a student, they're either lying, or it's their fault. Regardless, she asserts that it's not as big of a deal as they're making it out to be. Her mom got chased around a desk by a professor, and she can laugh about the experience today, after all!
Kipnis's writing is full of contradictions, and she appears not to know why the preponderance of evidence standard is necessary for trauma-informed investigations.
Also, professors who date their students are losers, full stop. Aside from the unhealthy, unethical power imbalance that absolutely deserves to be addressed by the university administration, professors who date students deserve every bit of ridicule and scorn. Attempts to paint these relationships as anything else are pathetic, even if it's a film school alumna waxing poetic about her wild undergrad past. 🙄
TL;DR--universities shouldn't be permitted to serve as DA, judge, jury, and executioner, because those roles are inherently conflicted.
Disclaimer: I am an attorney who once knew enough about the intersection of Title IX and civil cases to be asked to speak about it. For years I've thought it should be scrapped and a better system put into place. My knowledge is a bit out of date and honestly, I'm glad. I actually didn't think Title IX administration (at a university level) could have gotten worse.
Disclaimer the second: I represented women who were the sort of claimants that Professor Kipnis excoriates here. I didn't ever see one of them achieve anything close to justice, because just as it's easy to condemn an unpopular professor while hiding behind hazy confidentiality restrictions, it's just as easy to ignore student complaints. For the record: I don't think consensual relationships between professors and students are (usually) appropriate and support their restriction.
Disclaimer the third (this is the juicy one): when I was an undergraduate at a no-name Land Grand university in the 90s, I took a mandatory class from a professor who was friends with my father. Seriously: I helped the guy move (with my dad and husband) to get off the waitlist and into class, as one did in the 90s. The first day of lecture, I watched an inappropriately (think "Pretty Woman") dressed woman sit front and center and manage to try to flirt with the professor in front of 200 of her classmates. It was pathetic and kind of funny, so I told my father about it. He told his friend. I was pissed off at them both, but I got an A.
I'd forgotten about it...until the university called me as a witness the next year. She alleged an inappropriate relationship. I was called into a university administrator's office and asked to report what I'd seen. It wasn't much, but I did. I wasn't privy to the details, but I know that he resigned rather than be subject to the restrictions of not being allowed to meet one-on-one with students without a third party being present, as well as some other penalties. Do I think he did something inappropriate? Sure. He was that kind of guy and I always got a creepy vibe from him. Did I think she did something inappropriate? Sure. Later her best friend confided in me that she'd made up a bunch of it. Now? she's well-known for being a pro-male divorce attorney.
So, that said, and remembering I'm a pro-claimant attorney....
I spent the first quarter of the book thinking she was batshit crazy, the second quarter annoyed at the use of case studies (I'm a lawyer with some hard science behind me and no, not a double entendre), and the last half (mostly) in agreement.
The law is all about managing competing interests. Title IX was meant to redress years of systematic discrimination against women. It doesn't do it very well, because any legal method of redress of systematic discrimination, unless well-supervised and well-managed, is not likely to succeed.
The biggest problem with Title IX is that it is underfunded, understaffed, and the people who are put in charge of administering its programs do not, generally, have sufficient education and background *in the law* to have any business making the kinds of decisions they do. Additionally, the quality of programs varies widely between universities, which are themselves too busy acting as brands to police themselves with any sort of objectivity.
And that's what it comes down to: Policing. Prosecuting. Judging. Deciding on punishments. No one body can do all of these things without tremendous conflicts of interests. Until that's addressed, then we will continue to see the system abused (in either direction).
A book with some flaws, but nevertheless an important defense of liberal, empowered feminism over the left-wing version of feminism that is gaining ground (if not dominance) on college campuses. I often didn't like Kipnis' tone (she might be able to reach many of the people she's arguing against without the anger and sarcasm that streams through this book), Moreover, I think she spent too much of the book on a single extended case at her university rather than surveying the variety of views and issues surrounding campus sexual assault around the country. Nevertheless, I think she makes several important points.
The first is that the version of femininity that colors the way many left-wing feminists and Title 9 investigators view these cases is actually quite regressive and disempowering. She shows quite convincingly through a highly in-depth set of case studies that these investigators viewed the female complainants as having virtually no agency or choice in the face of the overwhelming authority and coercion of men. So many of the women in this story said later they felt that they could not say no because of the institutional power of male professors. But what has become of feminism when women aren't empowered to say no, especially to men who aren't physically threatening to them? What about a case where the female student invited the professor on the date, went to multiple locations with him, drank with him, posted live Instagram photos on it, and then fell asleep in his bed fully clothed only to wake up (her story) to find him groping her. Clearly this woman exerted female agency throughout this story, but in her recollection (and in the views of the Title 9 investigators) it was his Svengali-like charm and overwhelming power (he was no longer her professor, though) that coerced her into making every one of these decisions. Kipnis notes that this is an old and oppressive story that feminism has fought hard to destroy. It is the woman as the wilting, helpless flower and the man as the devious, manipulative brute. How odd is it that left-wing feminism is taking us back to the gender dynamics of 19th century sentimentalist novels?
Second, I thought she was dead-on in arguing that campus sexual assault prevention and our general culture should help empower women to say no and be able to resist unwanted sexual advances or assaults. Two caveats: 1. This does not mean we should stop trying to change men or masculinity. I agree this is a huge problem and that the responsibility for sexual assault lies entirely with the perpetrator. 2. This is also not victim-blaming. Think of it this way: would you want yourself (or your child) to have the emotional and physical tools necessary to say no firmly but also to have sexual agency and to hold themselves responsible for bad consensual choices? Would you want yourself (or your child, or sibling, etc) to have the ability to fight off an attacker, to bust their nose, to make enough noise to get attention? Would you want yourself or themselves to be aware of what situations (frat parties with tons of alcohol, for instance) are more dangerous in a sexual assault sense? This is not victim-blaming; this is a form of empowerment. We cannot wait for male sexual behavior to change before we start encouraging women to defend and empower themselves. Think about the kinds of students that affirmative consent training won't get through to: entitled, pushy, hyper-masculine, often misogynistic deep down. Not everyone can be reached, and male sexual behavior might not be totally transformable. In the meantime it is mere common sense to empower and educate women on how to avoid, object to, and stop sexual assaults while empowering and educating as many men as possible to recognize when these things are happening and be willing to intervene.
Lastly, and this is really touchy territory, Kipnis makes the crucial point that we cannot simply trust accusers. Not only is this illegal and illiberal, it also reflects a simplistic view of human psychological and sexual behavior wherein women have no motivations other than seeking justice for offenses. Her cases, and many others, show this isn't true. Women are people, they are flawed. They can pursue vendettas, misremember things, and even play out melodramas or psychological health problems in the campus courts. With the bar being raised ever higher about the meaning of consent (with some on campuses even arguing that regret about sex means you may have not consented), this has led to a flurry of lawsuits and counter-suits built on flimsy evidence. This of course doesn't mean that all or even most accusers are lying or crazy, which Kipnis rightfully acknowledges. If one person sexually assaults another, that person must be prosecuted and punished. What is means is that the parties on both sides have rights and are complex people, and we cannot let and idealized version of femininity and a demonized version of masculinity drive our interpretations of these cases.
This book is part of a conversation within feminism that must continue. For me, it is the first sustained foray into this conversation, and I hope my comments above convey respect for anyone touched by this issue. If you think I said something wrong or without sensitivity, please approach in a spirit of charity and I promise to reciprocate. I'd recommend this book to anyone interested in contemporary feminism or the sexual assault issue on campuses.
Laura Kipnis has written an exceptionally smart, courageous and insightful book that dares to challenge the knee-jerk, lockstep orthodoxy of so-called "progressive" thinking (while demonstrating its sexually regressive foundation) in Title IX procedures. She documents with tart wit, an able lawyer's gift with evidence and her own bona fides as a feminist to expose the travesties of justice perpetrated on college campuses. The book reads fluidly and swiftly, with elements of a legal thriller, as she traces one professor's, as well as her own, experiences before Title IX Torquemada's, exposing the egregious deprivation of due process, fairness or sanity in the inquisitions that are increasingly common across university campuses. Kipnis provokes readers to consider the nature of sex, sexual violence and moral responsibility in more complex, more honest and more substantial ways than most writers addressing the topic today. She is an exemplar of the value, importance and power of intellectual freedom and authentic intellectual inquiry in our conformist climate. She accomplishes all of this with a bravura writing style that is accessible, jargon free and, at times, mordantly funny. A terrific book.
I had extremely mixed feelings about this book. When I began reading I got the impression that Kipnis was extremely biased against the process and sexual assault survivors generally, and I can't say that my opinion of her views on survivors as somewhat outmoded ever fully changed. She views identification as a sexual assault survivor as disempowering and arising from a traditional sense of women being weak and inferior to men not only physically, but also emotionally. She doesn't deny these predators exist among men, but she does put a lot of responsibility--sexual agency, she would call it--on victims to take practical steps to ensure that they are not victims, like avoiding binge drinking, taking self-defense courses, and learning to stand up for themselves in settings of emotional coercion. I can't fully say that women should not do these things; probably everyone should, ideally. But I'm skeptical that such "harm prevention" measures are any more effective at warding off acquaintance rape than measures like bystander intervention training. Kipnis has stats for self-defense classes' effectiveness at warding off stranger rapists, but that isn't most rapists, as she admits.
There were a few moments that made me cringe throughout. For instance, Kipnis hearkened back to the days of the "good old-fashioned pass" in the 1950s, when her mother was not traumatized by literally being chased around the table by her professor. Also, she and an acquaintance were talking about the woman's sister being assaulted while asleep on the frat house, and she says something to the effect of, "Bet you couldn't see that coming." I also don't love her insinuations about victims possibly having borderline personality disorder, which is as cliche as the predatory professor. Finally, the suggestion that someone with wealth and power doesn't need to coerce women seems obvious but proves nothing, because rapists choose to exploit people because they like to, not because they cannot get consensual partners. And I will never believe that professors and undergraduates, particularly freshmen, should have relationships.
However, I do admit that Kipnis has some points on which I concede she is correct: her own investigation, for instance, seemed wrongheaded. There should be a standardized Title IX procedure, with an effort to inform defendant of the accusation before they begin interviewing, at least. Consultation with legal counsel and some of the other details of the procedure should also be amended. I do feel that Kipnis is very credulous of defendants--she seems to feel most who come to her as wrongfully accused actually are, and I question this--but I was persuaded in several points.
It amazes me that someone who has evidently spent so much time researching one half of the issue can be so flagrantly ignorant about the other half.
"We were talking about the campus assault problem, which had been in the news on a daily basis that week. She mentioned that her sister had been raped in college. 'How did it happen?' I asked. 'She got drunk, fell asleep on the couch in a frat house, and woke up with some guy on top of her,' my friend answered. 'I guess you couldn't see that coming,' I said. We both laughed." I have no idea why one would ever consider the author to be a poor judge on the subject she has chosen to write about.
Half of her 'arguments' are her expressing her incredulity at the situation based on her personal experience - 'Does that sound like something someone who was assaulted would do?' Sure does. 'Does that seem like something someone who was assaulted would say?' That seems like something anyone the world over would say.
She needs to learn what "by definition" means.
She expresses amazement at the idea that she can even be critiqued for her ideas - 'I wrote this as a feminist and yet I was still being called out?' Good thing most feminists aren't so dumb so as to accept bad ideas when they come from someone using the same label as them. It's almost like they go for substance over a label. Weird.
The author is really really dedicated to the idea that student/prof relationships are perfectly fine.
The author also has to work on having consistent arguments, standards, and judgments. She doesn't understand why some women act a certain way and then just a few pages later goes on to provide an example of when she acted in the exact same manner. I can't tell if she's just that thick or just that desperate to not extend empathy to other women. I suspect it's the latter.
As noted by the US Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights, Title IX states that: “No person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance.”
As Laura Kipnis makes clear, educational institutions that rely on federal funding (which is to say: nearly all of them) are highly wary of being found in non-compliance of Title IX.
The secrecy surrounding Title IX cases renders it impossible to determine whether the two cases documented in Unwanted Advances are typical. The second case is prompted by an essay Kipnis wrote for The Chronicle of Higher Education. The charges against Kipnis suggest that the essay’s publication has created a “hostile environment” on campus and a “chilling effect” on sexual harassment complaints. It’s patently absurd and Kipnis, writing after the fact, treats it as such. Nonetheless, her account is chilling. Tenured, or not, there was a possibility that she would lose her job over a journal article.
The first case discussed in the book is more nuanced, but the weaknesses and the outright dangers of the Title IX process are made clear: the low burden of proof required to spur an investigation as well as to be found in violation; the fact that third-party accusers can bring complaints; the Kafkaesque reality that those accused are uncertain of who has accused them and what they have accused of doing; not being permitted to defend oneself as those being investigated are in many settings. As the investigation proceeds, Kipnis reveals the kangaroo court atmosphere of the investigation.
Kipnis’s feminist critiques of the presumptions underlying the investigations are some of the best sections of the book. She exposes the attitudes as neo-Victorian and forcefully argues that “policies and codes that bolster traditional femininity—which has always favored stories about female endangerment over stories about female agency—are the last thing in the world that’s going to reduce sexual assault” (8).
This is a fascinating book for anyone interested in academia. The topic of interest is professor-student romantic relationships. Such relationships used to be common: for instance when I joined a small college there were 5 male professors married to former students. More recently these relationships have been outlawed on many campuses.
The book is by a tenured professor. She wrote about these romantic entanglements in the Chronicle of Higher Education. Her thesis: that female students have sexual agency and should be able to decide with whom they have sex. She also spoke in defense of a fellow “student dating” professor who was facing dismissal (even though such relationships were not illegal on their campus.)
Suffice it to say the article got a lot of buzz and not all of it good. She herself was brought up on "Title Nine"charges for writing the article. Her book provides a feministic and provocative look at human sexual relations in academe. She is smart, witty, and tells it like it is.
Asks Laura Kipnis: If feminism is about empowering women, why does the dominant narrative in Title IX investigations, which are designed mainly to protect women, remove all agency from them?
But outside of the introduction and conclusion, Kipnis only passingly addresses this question within a broader litany of Kafkaesque Title IX inquiries. Although there is some delightful Foucauldian power analysis.
And, as a medievalist, I have to ask when did universities return to the thirteenth century, with their own peculiarities (in the medieval sense) and parallel legal jurisdictions that often supplant the public law?
I admit I was reluctant to put Unwanted Advances on my reading list, because this might put me at odds with new liberal orthodoxy, which I suppose helps prove some of what author Laura Kipnis is trying to say.
Kipnis, a professor of media studies at Northwestern, is at her best when she analyzes the implications of the new liberal take on sexual assault. There is a dogmatic quality to the dialogue about sexual assault on college campuses, and although it comes from the left, much of it doesn't seem very liberal. Deciding that women must be protected not only from physical threats but pestering and emotional pressure references the age-old notion that women are delicate, which is a strange position for feminists to take. Setting up Star-Chamber tribunals that operate in secret and provide nearly no protections for the respondents is another oddity in the new liberal playbook. Kipnis doesn't hesitate to take on these any other shibboleths of the modern left.
Kipnis is at her best when she critiques these, but she's at her worst when she delves into the details of accusers and their allegations. While it's certainly acceptable to question the motives of someone who levels a less-than-substantiated claim of assault, I think it's dangerous to over-speculate about what other human beings are thinking, particularly when the subject is as sensitive as this one.
All in all, I found Unwanted Advances an engaging read, and a book with something to teach us all even if--and especially because--it's bound to cause some discomfort.
I want to be clear that, as a feminist, I do think there's a case to be made for reform and revision of Title IX law. There are many ways in which the process in unfair to both victims and the accused; the fact that the 2011 "Dear Colleague" letter provides incoherent and vague guidelines means that too many colleagues take the lowest-common denominator approach to sexual violence (with the only goal of avoiding bad headlines and investigation from the DOE). And in her final substantive chapter, Kipnis does get to a more thoughtful discussion of the underlying issues that has at least some value. But not enough, frankly, to justify the rest of the book, which is just absurdly myopically focused on a view of college-aged women I simply don't recognize (as someone who also teaches college women). Kipnis is so reflexively suspicious and cynical about women who make sexual assault accusations that even some of her better points end up less credible as a result--she looks for often absurd reasons to undermine the credibility of women who claim assault, and seems equally ready to believe absurd reasons of the accused. There are good books out there about campus rape in the Title IX era--Jon Krakauer's *Missoula* does a good job, I think of demonstrating the inconsistencies and unfairnesses within the procedure.
This book is everything I expected it to be, and so much more! Kipnis lays it out in plain and simple terms - modern day feminism has actually regressed women's emancipation by taking their sexual agency away and feeding the victim narrative to young and somewhat confused women on college campuses. Men have bore the brunt of this "advancement", and we can not address campus sexual assault without involving women and making them take ownership of their own actions (which very often take place under the influence of heavy drinking). Women need to own up the role they also play in campus sexual politics.
I can not recommend this book enough, to men and women, and ESPECIALLY to self-identifying "feminists". If feminism is to survive, it needs to take a cold hard look at itself and accept the shortfalls and false narratives it has been feeding young women about what it means to be a woman who has autonomy over her actions and her life. Without question, the best book I have read so far in 2017.
Of course there will be those who embrace this work as so "radical" in its assertion that we should go back to the good old days of "pre-paranoia sex" (aka when women didn't get to give voice to their own sexual experiences). To this I give one big eye roll. It isn't radical to reframe the current cultural narrative on sexual violence. Her argument would have been stronger if it didn't rely on picking apart (and cherry picking) a women's own experience, employing victim blaming techniques. It also would have been stronger if she had talked about power. Lastly, I could have also done without the holier than thou tone.
The book is choked full of personal anger. Here is an obvious hatred toward women who are not silent about their relationship with professors. I wonder what happened, was her husband blamed for this? Or lover? And she did not want to believe? The author's take feels very personal. She does not even try to conceal her dislike to the girls, badmouthing every little thing about them. And to top it all by calling herself a feminist. What a hypocrisy. This is a modern trick to cover misogyny.
This was a great book. It is a really eye-opening investigation into sexual harrasment allegations on college campuses. There are very aggressive administrators who raise concerns about violating due process and the standard that we are innocent until proven guilty. What ends up happening, according to Kipnis, is that women are seen as passive and weak. This is the opposite of what feminism was supposed to achieve.
The issue of Title IX on college campuses in regards to sexual assault has been on my radar for a while. There have been a lot of issues of due process raised, and no amount of articles written about the issue. This book is largely about one specific experience, but is one of the first books to really cover the issue from start to finish with the sort of precision and detail necessary to do it justice.
The book was an upsetting read for me in many ways if only because of the political climate we’re in right now as well as the issues raised by multiple articles involving due process. Reading this during the significant national conversations concerning Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey only magnified the message of this book and the need to get it right, and how much we’re failing. This book is far from perfect even if it’s necessary. Its focus on one story above many diminishes the problems on campus, and it could have used a more persuasive tone. Still, in terms of what it actually offers as a cautionary tale, it’s an important record of an insane time that’s worth having.
This book offers nothing new to those on a certain side of the discussion, and needs to be read by those who are troubled by the alleged problems of sexual assault on college campuses to give some perspective. My one concern is more that I do not think those who need to know this information will get it, or be open to receiving it.
Laura Kipnis is probably familiar to most people as 'that woman who hates rape survivors' or something along those lines. Her book, on the other hand, provides a comprehensive account of bureaucracy gone mad regarding the abuses and limits of Title IX complaints.
The Title IX complaints that were struck against the author in particular highlight the ridiculous abuse of power that they have over people. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the complainants arguing that Kipnis' essay had created a 'chilling atmosphere'. If a niche academic article can really wreak such distinctive emotional havoc on you then perhaps it's not the author's problem so much as your own melodrama.
I suppose Kipnis could have been more fair by including more reports of Title IX which successfully got sexual offenders removed from campus. But I think her overall point here isn't that speaking up and calling this stuff out is bad, it's that the systems currently in place in American universities are hopelessly incompetent and that the universities are more apt to take action to appease the popular consciousness of 'believe all accusers' than to actually hold a fair trial and then judge where to go from there. That may sound like I'm against believing sexual assault survivors but I'm not, I believe in believing them so long as all the evidence does not point to the contrary (as in the two cases brought against Peter Ludlow in this book).
Kipnis also has a larger issue with the current climate of feminism and its discussions of sexuality. I agree with her a lot on this point because it raises up some uncomfortable truths about where we're at right now. Firstly, many of the Title IX accounts in this book are not always sexual assault, there are examples of drunken hookups, being entreated to give a blowjob by her boyfriend when she didn't want to, or in the case of Peter Ludlow: having a 3 month long consensual relationship with a 25 year old postgraduate student with scores of evidence that completely disavow any complaint of non-consensuality. It's clear that the boundaries of 'consent' are being tested and stretched to fit the charges. One of the issues she particularly hones in on at the end is drinking culture, and I think she hits it right on the nose. Getting drunk loosens everyones inhibitions and (unless there's a significant sobriety divide between the two parties) it's usually equally an expression of repressed sexual feelings when sober. I think she's fair to make the point that it is unwise to drink to such a level that you lose your memory, become incapacitated etc. (for members of both sexes).
The other big point Kipnis makes that I agree with her is the fact that certain trends in contemporary feminism parallel explicitly with conservative anti-pornography feminist ideas of the 1970s/80s. In the narratives told by a lot of these stories women are framed as inherently meagre, weak and subject to manipulation by anything with a dick. Particularly in Ludlow's two accusations, both times the students initiated the off-campus social occasions but the (quite frankly) extreme weirdness of a student wanting to hang with their 50 year old philosophy professor is lost on everyone. But more importantly it betrays the fact of their sexual agency, Ludlow was not a direct teacher of either of them at the time they engaged in off-campus socialising so there was no legal repercussions for what he did. Whether he sexually assaulted either of them is another issue entirely, but the evidence seems more inclined to produce an innocent verdict if only due to the inconsistency of the students accusations, and also their straight up lies.
Anyway, all this creates the idea that women are just inherently susceptible to the wiles of manly men when really that's not the case, or at least it shouldn't be. In this line of argument Kipnis brings up the issue of also teaching 'harm-reduction' rather than solely focusing on 'rape prevention' methods of education. She acknowledges the victim-blaming charges here, but I think she has a point in some regards. There does seem to be a narrative that sacrifices the fact of female sexual liberation and agency for a wilting passivity and claim to victimhood. To clarify: I don't refer to survivors of sexual abuse or rape here where non-consenuality has been expressed explicitly and ignored. Instead I refer to the girl who retroactively pressed charges on an ex-boyfriend for 30 seconds of choking during a blowjob, or the two girls who felt that their female teacher stared at their breasts for too long, or for anyone who has had an unwanted advance but felt themselves unable to speak up at the time. For all the rape prevention training done on men, it's not enough without equal pushback from the other side. It's time to speak the fuck up.
(Obviously you can't always speak up if you think your life or career is threatened and it can be difficult in certain situations but learning how to speak truth to power to some asshole guy you just met whose hand is already up your ass is important.)
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I wish I could write like Laura Kipnis. I've been a huge fan since Against Love, which was mostly dazzling but occasionally obscure. I loved Against Love so much that I sought out her only slightly less dazzling but considerably more obscure collections of previously published academic essays about smut and class, Bound and Gagged and Ecstasy Unlimited. I've read the books she's published since with increasing enthusiasm. She just keeps getting better and better. She's whip-smart and witheringly funny and yet her prose radiates a generous, accommodating humanity. Sentence-by-sentence, I can't think of a writer who consistently demonstrates such a deft mastery of tone. And this book, addressed as it is to a topic of keen interest to her personally and professionally, is, I think, her masterwork to date.
Her topic here is the wholesale erosion of due process and, indeed, normal adult skepticism, with respect to accusations of sexual misconduct in the current academic climate. As the "Me Too" cultural moment transmogrifies from a much-needed corrective for systemic abuses of power, frequently involving behavior ranging from the horrible to the plainly criminal, to a full-blown Crucible-like accusatory atmosphere redolent of what Kipnis calls "sex panic," the truly frightening witch hunts which have taken place in academe for the past half-decade should be of keen interest to us all.
Unwanted Advances examines, specifically, the Title IX administrative proceedings brought against philosophy professor Peter Ludlow, Kipnis' colleague at Northwestern University, by the Office of Civil Rights of the U.S. Department of Education, and, generally, the abusive application of Title IX to allegations of sexual misconduct (by professors and students) on campuses nationwide. Kipnis became personally involved in the Ludlow debacle when a Title IX complaint was lodged against her for publishing an article in an academic journal in which she voiced her intellectual and moral objections to some aspects of the proceedings. I'll skip the he-said, she-said, other than to say that Kipnis makes what is, in one admitted fan-boy's opinion, at any rate, an ironclad case for the dubiousness of most of the claims that ruined a man's academic career and for the biased, self-interested, and outrageously sloppy administration of social "justice" by the Office of Civil Rights.
Kipnis is at pains, over and over again, to assert her feminist bona fides, and her takeaway point, she insists, is about the centrality of female agency to making progress on this issue. Women, she insists, fought long and hard to be seen as adults in charge of their own bodies and sexual lives. When the law is violated by sexual malefactors, whether through violence or abuse of legal or economic power, then bad men should go to jail. But a damsel-in-distress narrative, Kipnis asserts, especially one that looks for relief to powerful institutions that have their own interests to protect, is just about as un-feminist a position as it is possible to take.
Although I don't know enough about Kipnis to trust everything she says in the book, if even half of what she said about Title IV had any truth, the system is deeply flawed. It was particularly concerning that due process is not observed, and that some women were unwillingly labeled as "victims" when a third party filed a complaint on their behalf.
Unwanted Advances also articulated several concerns that I've had in recent years about contemporary feminism in regards to rape culture. I've long felt that women are being treated as if they are children that are helpless and have no control over their own actions, and no responsibility for their own safety. We are to be totally dependent on the bureaucracy that makes all these rules to protect us. Any suggestion that women should be taught to be more wary and learn self defense is considered "victim blaming," instead of acknowledging the reality that bad people are out there. We teach children what to do if a stranger approaches them, so what is the difference? I've heard before that women shouldn't learn how to defend themselves, men just shouldn't rape them. Well...sure. That goes without saying. But children shouldn't have to be worried about strangers, we shouldn't need security alarms on our houses, and we should be able to walk anywhere carrying tons of cash without worrying about being robbed. Unfortunately, that's just not reality. Nobody "deserves" to get victimized, but there are certainly ways to make yourself more likely to be a target.
This book really gave me a lot to think about. It presented the author's ideas clearly and wasn't difficult to follow, so I think it's a good read for anyone interested in a different POV on the subject of sexual assaults and rape culture.
"Kipnis doesn't seem the sort of enemy you'd want to attract, let alone help create. Her mind is too sharp and her sense of humor too robust; where others might blanch, she grins."
–Charlotte Shane reviews Laura Kipnis's Unwanted Advances: Sexual Paranoia Comes to Campus in the April/May 2017 issue of Bookforum
One of the most disgusting and poorly written works I have come across. The author's bias colors every word written creating a cacophony of clutter. The author lacks the grace and presences to write with clarity or a critical eye. In one instance, the author says she finds it hard to imagine someone would accept a ride from a person for whom there was no physical and sexual attraction and insinuates that to accept a ride is tantamount to consenting. This author is a joke who freely admits to having been turned down from any true higher institutions. The poor create goes out of her way to attempt to prove her worth by incorrectly using words and impaling sentences with clumsy punctuation. It is an embarrassment as a work of writing, a travesty as a work of a woman and a shameful waste of time. It would be one thing if the author came out with clear ideas that stemmed from research but she disappointed me with poorly cited work and a heavy bag of mixed emotions. She lacked anything that would generate respect and, frankly, makes it anyone who cares to disagree with her seem a genius.
When it comes to topics of gender roles, the institution of heterosexuality, and sexuality itself we have incredibly verbose and sometimes gruelingly academics authors such as Foucalt and Butler. While their work is read time and time again and cited by all for a reason, and I myself always enjoy their work and find profound 'ah-ha!' moments while reading their literature, it can be hard and long to process their theories many times. While in this book Kipnis is not relaying any new theories, she is merely sharing whats been garnered as quite a controversial opinion, I appreciate her elevated and academic language, and her cohesive thought and explanation throughout the book. Everything is very digestible, clear, and concise. At times I felt sucked in to the stories she was sharing as if it was some sort of fiction. This is mainly because the tales she was recounting are simply that baffling.
I can understand why many people find this book controversial. At many times, I myself felt put off reading a few sentences every other chapter or so. Yet, I think the point Kipnis is making in this book is so extremely relevant, and I applaud and admire her willingness to write this. I laughed along with her when she laughed in the face of lawyers that tried to get her to agree to being silenced. Hers is not a popular opinion, but I think that more people and especially students of my generation need to give this a read. Because while it was jarring to learn about her takes on what has happened to female agency today, it was also empowering. I think we've all subconsciously allowed ourselves to become victims, and Laura emphasizes a plethora of times that she is in no way invalidating actual victims. She is merely encouraging us to recognize the complexity of our role as women in society and sexuality and how we have lost our agency, and how to take it back.
I will be ruminating on this read for a while, and am glad that despite the emotional roller coaster I went on while reading it, I ended it feeling empowered.