When the Victim Is a Man

Every society lives by its stories. One of ours,  perhaps the most sacred, is that men are dangerous and women are vulnerable.

That story contains some truth. Men can be dangerous. But when we mistake a partial truth for the whole truth, we blind ourselves to everything else.

In 2022, a woman named Imogen Brooke was accused of forcing a man to have sex with her. He said no. She allegedly didn’t stop.
Later, a jury found her not guilty after she claimed she was “too lazy” to have done what was alleged.

When the story appeared on Facebook, the reaction wasn’t empathy; it was mockery. Hundreds laughed. Comments read: “He should man up,” and “If he got hard, he must have wanted it.”

Would anyone say that if the genders were reversed? Of course not.

This is what happens when ideology replaces truth. We’ve built a moral script that presumes male guilt and female innocence. And when reality violates that script, we ridicule the victim until the story fits again.

The law doesn’t help. Under the Sexual Offences Act 2003, rape is defined only as penetration by a penis.

So when a woman forces a man, the charge becomes causing sexual activity without consent. The words change, and with them, the moral gravity. Language shapes empathy,  and the law itself teaches us who is allowed to be believed.

We should be teaching something else: that consent, dignity, and moral responsibility belong to everyone.
A man’s body isn’t public property because he’s male.
Laughter at another’s suffering isn’t justice; it’s cowardice disguised as humour.

If “no means no,” then it must mean the same for everyone, otherwise, what we’re left with isn’t equality.

It’s hypocrisy.

From Southampton to Scotland

What happened in Southampton isn’t an isolated cultural glitch.
The same asymmetry runs quietly through Scotland’s own courts.

Here, Sections 274 and 275 of the Criminal Procedure (Scotland) Act 1995 decide what evidence a jury may hear about consent or motive.
Time and again, these restrictions prevent the defence from showing the full picture; especially when the allegation rests on emotion, not evidence.

Combine that with the Moorov doctrine, which lets separate accusations substitute for proof, and the pattern becomes clear: a system that listens differently depending on who speaks.

The laughter under a Facebook post and the silence inside a courtroom come from the same source;  a collective bias about who can be a victim and who must be believed.
Until we recognise that link, reform will never come.

A Call to YOU, the Reader

If you felt uneasy reading this, that’s good.
Unease is what conscience feels like before it becomes courage.

So talk about it.

Ask why “no means no” stops meaning “no” when the victim is male.
Share this story, question the language of our laws, and demand that empathy, and justice, apply equally to all.

Justice doesn’t begin in Parliament; it begins in the conversations we refuse to avoid.

If truth matters, speak it; even when it breaks the story you’ve been told.