Each time a major sexual assault case comes to light, the public conversation follows a familiar pattern. Awareness campaigns are launched. Safety tips are shared. People are reminded to watch their drinks, walk in groups, and trust their instincts. The focus quickly turns to what potential victims should do differently.
But the harder question remains: Why does sexual assault continue to happen on such a large scale?
Recent headlines make that question impossible to ignore. The world continues to grapple with the legacy of the Jeffrey Epstein case, which exposed how wealth, influence, and institutional failures allowed sexual abuse to continue for years despite repeated warnings. At the same time, new allegations involving César Chávez have forced communities to confront painful questions about power, loyalty, and silence within movements built on justice. Survivors in those cases have described years of fear, retaliation, and disbelief, underscoring a truth that extends far beyond any single individual.
Consider also the recent case in France involving Gisèle Pelicot. For nearly a decade, her husband drugged her and invited dozens of men to rape her while she was unconscious in her own home. Investigators later identified more than ninety assaults committed by multiple perpetrators over several years. This was not a stranger in a dark alley. This was a husband, a home, and a network of men who chose to participate. The case shocked the world, yet it reflects a pattern that has existed for generations.
Sexual violence is rarely random. Research from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention consistently shows that the perpetrator is often someone the survivor knows, such as a partner, coworker, neighbor, or family member. These environments are built on trust, authority, and power.
I wrote previously about prevention in trusted spaces and continue to stand by that recommendation. Prevention should be directed toward people known to us, not only toward strangers. But the second most important priority is accountability. Without accountability, prevention becomes a promise without protection.
The scale of sexual violence raises uncomfortable questions. Is the problem a lack of awareness or a lack of consequences? Is it a failure of education or a failure of systems to act when harm occurs? Sexual violence is not only about individual behavior. It is deeply connected to the misuse of power and control, particularly in environments where authorities go unchecked and reputation is protected.
To be sure, men can also be victims of sexual assault. Their experiences deserve recognition, support, and justice. Yet the reality remains that sexual violence is shaped by social structures that normalize dominance and entitlement. These dynamics often place men in positions of authority and influence, making them more likely to be perpetrators and making institutions more hesitant to hold them accountable. This is not an accusation against individuals. It is an acknowledgment of patterns that have persisted across generations.
Breaking the silence has become a rallying cry in recent years. Survivors who come forward are often described as courageous, and rightly so. Speaking about sexual violence requires extraordinary strength. But courage should not be a prerequisite for safety. Reporting harm should not feel like stepping into uncertainty without protection.
Many survivors never report sexual assault. Studies have shown that fear of retaliation, disbelief, stigma, and institutional inaction are among the most common reasons survivors remain silent. Silence is often interpreted as weakness or shame, but in many cases, it is a rational response to systems that have historically failed to deliver justice.
Recent revelations across sectors have reinforced this reality. In the Epstein case, records showed that warnings about abuse surfaced repeatedly before meaningful action was taken. In the emerging allegations surrounding César Chávez, survivors have described remaining silent for years out of concern that speaking out would harm a movement they believed in. These stories differ in context and geography, but they share a common thread: power without accountability creates risk.
The persistence of sexual violence is not evidence of moral failure among survivors. It is evidence of structural failure within institutions.
If society is serious about preventing sexual violence, safety can no longer be treated as an individual responsibility. It must be treated as an institutional obligation. Prevention cannot depend on survivors being vigilant. It must depend on systems being accountable. Policies alone do not create safety. Enforcement does. Action does. Consequences do. Institutions must do more than write procedures and conduct training. They must respond decisively when harm occurs. They must protect those who report misconduct. And they must accept responsibility when failures happen. Real prevention requires reporting systems that survivors can trust without fear of retaliation, consistent enforcement of policies regardless of status or reputation, leadership that is held responsible for safety outcomes rather than procedural compliance, independent oversight when misconduct is alleged, and consequences that are timely, transparent, and unavoidable. These are not aspirational goals. They are the minimum standards of any institution that claims to protect people. Safety is not created by awareness alone. Safety is created by accountability.
Sexual violence will not end through awareness campaigns alone. It will not end through training sessions or policy statements. It will end when institutions demonstrate that harm carries consequences and that power does not shield perpetrators from responsibility.
Prevention begins with education. It continues with accountability. It becomes real only when systems are willing to act.
Stephanie Whack is a survivor of domestic violence, an advocate at the intersection of victimization and homelessness, and a member of The OpEd Project Public Voices Fellowship on Domestic Violence and Economic Security. In 2024, she was awarded the LA City Dr. Marjorie Braude Award for innovative collaboration in serving victims of domestic violence.




















Democratic U.S. Senate candidate Graham Platner speaks to voters at a town hall at the Elks Lodge 188 on June 7, 2026, in Portland, Maine.
McConnell and Platner both feel entitled
The two men could not be more different. One, a Republican, octogenarian, seven-term Southern senator, the other a progressive, millennial Maine oysterman who’s never spent a day in elected office.
But Mitch McConnell, the senior senator from Kentucky who’s been MIA for the past few weeks and Graham Platner, the Maine Senate candidate who’s facing calls to drop out of his race against Sen. Susan Collins, apparently do have something in common: an outsized sense of entitlement.
McConnell, who is 84 and not running for reelection, has been hospitalized for three weeks, and yet we still don’t fully know what he was admitted for or what his condition is. Per CNN, “his office has not disclosed a medical reason for the hospitalization or provided specifics on his health status beyond saying last week that he ‘continues to improve’ and ‘is working closely with his staff on Kentucky and Senate matters.’ ”
While several legislators have said they’ve talked to him and insist he sounds strong, others have said they are completely in the dark. One MAGA influencer, Laura Loomer, posted ”High level source close to the White House tells me ‘Mitch McConnell is officially brain dead. He’s not coming back.’ ”
Meanwhile, up in Maine, Platner has been artfully dodging calls from his own party to drop out of his race after several allegations of misconduct from women, including a sexual assault allegation from a former girlfriend, came to light. While Platner, who has managed to survive a Nazi-tattoo scandal, a sexting scandal, and several old tweets scandals, denies the allegations, he has not quit.
High-profile Democrats including Sens. Bernie Sanders and Chuck Schumer, the latter of whom had unsuccessfully hand-selected Maine Gov. Janet Mills to face Collins instead of Platner, have urged Platner to drop out, while other Dems have accused him of trying to influence the picking of his replacement.
Maine Democratic Party Executive Director Devon Murphy-Anderson released a statement Tuesday, which said in part:
“Unfortunately, Graham Platner’s team has repeatedly reached out to us in an attempt to put their thumb on the scale of what this process looks like. We have repeatedly reiterated to Graham Platner’s team that they have no role in determining our next Democratic nominee for the U.S. Senate nor in determining what this process looks like.”
Both incidents show a deep lack of accountability to voters, who in one case deserve to know whether their senator is capable of performing his duties, and in another deserve a candidate who isn’t being accused of crimes, bigotry and deception.
The offensive and odious entitlement of both McConnell and Platner stands out not because it is particularly unique among today’s political class. Tom Kean, the New Jersey GOP congressman, missed more than 100 votes, only sharing after a three-month mystery absence that he was dealing with depression.
Former President Joe Biden’s Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin failed to disclose a hospitalization for prostate cancer surgery, flouting the established rules for Cabinet members and senior U.S. officials.
From Biden’s insistence on running for reelection despite his obvious cognitive and political weaknesses to Trump’s brazen flouting of laws and norms, few politicians seem to appreciate that their public service job comes with responsibilities to constituents, including transparency and honesty.
But both parties increasingly justify the chicanery, because the stakes of winning elections and keeping power are simply too high. But that’s no excuse. If we’ve learned anything over the past decade, it’s that character and accountability do, in fact, matter. And when we, the voters, stop caring about it, well, so do they.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.