Opinion
Transforming survivor justice Policing and prosecution are not solutions to the problem of campus sexual assault by Alexis Moulton Content warning: This story discusses graphic sexual assault. he problem of campus sexual assault is well understood in the United States. In our media, our consent education campaigns, and even in the ways students talk behind closed doors, sexual assault is often considered a part of the college experience. The process of reporting campus sexual assault — and all the harm that comes with it — is discussed far less often. When former asu student Alayna, who asked her last name be omitted due to privacy concerns, was sexually assaulted on the Tempe campus, she called the asu Police Department the next day. She figured if she acted quickly and decisively it would be easy to file criminal charges and get the help she needed. “I thought, ‘oh, if I go get a rape kit right now there’s no way I won’t get justice,’” Alayna said. “And that’s unfortunately not how it works.” Over the following months, both asu police and administrators repeatedly ignored, dismissed and harassed Alayna. In a video narrating her experience, Alayna said the seven-month inves-
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tigation process felt like “Arizona State University raped me every single day.” Unfortunately, Alayna’s experience is far from unique. There is a documented pattern of asu students looking to the University’s legal system for justice, only to be belittled, incriminated and retraumatized. Perhaps this is why few college students feel police keep them safe. Though campus sexual assault is a nationwide problem, studies repeatedly show a lack of student confidence in police responses to sexual assault. A 2020 survey conducted by the Women’s Coalition found nearly three times as many students considered “walking with friends” a safer resource than the asu police. But the injustice runs deeper: Police responses do not typically produce any semblance of accountability or retribution. Of the 68 incidents of sexual assault reported to the asu Police Department from 2017 to 2019, 42 were investigated, only 12 were cleared and none were prosecuted. This is not because select University administrators and police detectives are underperforming. This is because the University, and policing itself, are failing. Police and administrators consistently inflict harm on survivors and protect perpetrators. If the problem of campus sexual violence is to be addressed, something new must be built in their place. Are there alternatives to policing?
Police departments’ responsibility in handling cases of sexual and domestic violence is a relatively modern phenomenon. Contemporary scholarship shows emerging feminist anti-violence movements in the 1970s were
effectively assimilated into “tough on crime” policies in the ‘80s, prompting the creation of “special victims units” and pro-arrest policies. At around the same time, the U.S. saw the birth of campus police. Many universities solidified their own police departments to address the unique environment of the college campus throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s. This led to a reliance on the criminal justice system in combating sexual assault, producing a subset of feminist thought some academics and activists have dubbed “carceral feminism.” Victoria Law, an author who writes about incarceration, gender and resistance, calls carceral feminism “the idea that you can somehow police and imprison your way out of gender violence.” According to Law, this idea focuses on retributive reactions to the problem of gender violence without looking at root causes. “If this approach actually worked, we would not have as much gender violence, if any gender violence, in the United States,” Law said. “But we see again and again that this doesn't work.” Carceral feminist rhetoric often erases the work of trailblazing anti-violence advocates who have fought for spending on social services and community infrastructure instead. Jasmine Lester, founder of Sun Devils Against Sexual Assault, is one of those advocates. Lester is an asu graduate and survivor herself. When she began researching other universities’ sexual assault advocacy, she realized how outdated asu’s approach was. She said one advocate from University of Cal-
