The first sector-wide survey of sexual misconduct at universities showed concerning statistics on the rate of sexual assault/violence in England, particularly for female and non-heterosexual students. However, more alarming than this is the number of students who reported a “poor” experience with their institutions in dealing with the aftermath. Universities have an ubiquitous duty to protect their students. Yet, certain demographics – and not always the ones you would expect – are finding themselves left out in the cold.
A quarter of students have experienced at least one instance of sexual harassment since starting their studies. 24.5%, to be exact.
However plaintively distressing it was to read that figure, its significance is undeniable. This number isn’t just the result of some grand-scheme extrapolation of multiple data sets; no, it represents something far greater.
It subsists as part of the Sexual Misconduct Survey – the first sector-wide survey of sexual misconduct at universities. Finally apprehending a number in the flesh closes the curtain on what can only be described as a decade-long battle for openness. Along the way, various landmark moments spearheaded the movement. Prominently among them is the NUS’s nationwide “Hidden Marks” report. This collected information on the female experience of harassment and stalking in 2010. The murder of Sarah Everard years later, and the relentless efforts of various multi-level campaigns to garner public attention towards VAWG, have also served as important catalysts in their own right.
So whilst the survey itself only recently came out at the end of last week, it’s been in the works for a very long time.
Dissecting and analysing the survey responses
The survey was organised by the Office for Students (OfS) – the independent regulator of education in England. It gives statistical insight into the scale of sexual misconduct in higher education. With a response rate of 12%, 52, 000 final year undergraduate students in England completed the survey.
The OfS survey collected data on students’ experience with sexual harassment, sexual violence/abuse, and intimate relationships with staff members.
The organisers conveniently assembled the wealth of information into an analysis report, a press info sheet and a students’ guide. But not even a tidy array of pastel-coloured information can brighten what is, inherently, a ruefully upsetting assortment of statistics.
As noted earlier, a quarter of respondents reported experiencing sexual harassment. Additionally, 14.1% of respondents reported experiencing at least one form of sexual assault/violence during their years at university.
A comparatively meagre 1.5% of students reported engaging in an “intimate” staff-student relationship in the past 12 months.
Almost inevitably, the same groups of students reported a higher prevalence of sexual harassment and sexual assault/violence.
Nearly half of lesbian, gay and bisexual students reported experiencing sexual harassment. Women were nearly three times more likely to experience sexual harassment than men.
Disabled people, and those who started their course under the age of 21, were also comparatively more at risk. Students not eligible for free school meals and those living in the IMD quintile 5 (the least deprived area) also reported a higher prevalence of sexual misconduct.
Students reporting their experiences to their universities
The survey also asked students if they had reported their experience to their university. This could include a specific HR faculty or department, or a college representative. I suspect the survey deliberately left it open to cover the full range of possibilities.
A little over 10% (13.2%) of respondents experiencing harassment in the past year made a formal report or complaint about it to their institution.
No doubt there is a plethora of reasons for this why might be. Victim-blaming, internalised guilt, and a fear of being slut-shamed: these are powerful devices in society that collectively block survivors from coming forward with their stories and issuing formal reports.
However, this survey has brought to light a new – but by no means less compelling – reason that students have for staying silent: a blatant lack of confidence in their university’s ability to deal with the report appropriately. The impact of this vote of no confidence is catastrophic. Some have echoed fears that this “reporting gap” has meant that institutions “may be operating with incomplete intel” of their campus culture. If students don’t feel comfortable reporting their experiences to their universities, how can universities be expected to introduce effective safeguards?
Rather interestingly, reporting of sexual assault varied dramatically by age.
Just 12.7% of students under 21 reported incidents. This is compared to 86.4% of those aged 31 and above.
This feeds into the impression that younger students may have internalised the pessimistic attitude of “if the university isn’t going to fix anything, so why should it matter if I make a complaint?”.
Some students have had “poor” experiences with reporting
The survey then asked students who did report their sexual assault/violence to describe their interaction with the institution whilst making the complaint.
Different universities offer a myriad of ways for students to reach out for support, whether that be through in-person HR channels or anonymous online forms. Many universities also have a designated SVLO (Sexual Violence Liaison Officer). Their job is to listen, be empathic and offer support, which can be especially useful if the alleged perpetrator is an active member of the University.
The majority of these students (57%) described their experience as “good”.
But a significant proportion (32.4%) said it was “poor”. And characteristics like identifying as female, having a reported disability, and being eligible for free school meals were significantly more prevalent amongst those who described their experience as “poor”. The data suggests that certain demographics are being systematically let down by their universities. Albeit probably not for malicious reasons, some students are falling through the cracks.
It can be hard to imagine the human impact of what this all means. For a student to have already gone through what is often a very physically and emotionally traumatic incident, and then to feel ignored by the authorities, is deplorable. Behind every statistic in this survey is a real story, and a real person. And too many of these people have been let down by the institutions that swore to protect them.
For example, one BBC article retells Molly’s story, as a student who was raped in her first year of university whilst studying at Royal Holloway, University of London. She said the lack of support from her university had a “massive toll” on her, eventually spiralling to mental health breakdown the following year.
What can universities be doing better?
Sadly, there is no quick-fix solution to these problems. Every student’s experience is different.
But also, every university is different. They all offer different levels of support. Each one has its own complex system through which students can receive advice. And assuredly, that can make things really difficult for students who are already going through an emotional time.
But this doesn’t mean that universities can’t be doing more to make sure that all students feel comfortable reporting their experiences. There are several simple initiatives that universities can introduce to ease the reporting process.
Make the resources clear
Showing clear, straightforward signs of where students can go for help will help make a big difference. In the survey, 29.3% of respondents said they were not confident in knowing how to make a report. This percentage can be lowered by clearly advertising who students should talk to, ideally having a dedicated space on the website for formal complaints. Additionally, regularly sending out reminders on emails will remind students that support is always there.
Adopt a visible no-tolerance policy towards sexual misconduct
It isn’t enough just to ask have the rules on sexual misconduct in place; they need to be accessible and easy to navigate for time-crunched students. Are the policies submerged in stacks of paperwork somewhere in the archives? Or has the university clearly displayed the policies on the website and plastered them on posters around campus? Universities need to regularly ask themselves what they can do to make these things more accessible for students.
Offer training to all students from day one
Creating mandatory training for students sets the year off on the right foot, making it clear what the boundaries of consent are. When everyone is on the same page and the standards are clear across all departments and age groups, this has the knock-on effect of helping to destigmatise the shame that can come with filing a report.
Universities – as academic institutions – have the potential to instigate crucial social change. But open transparency and more accessible systems of reporting are necessary; introducing these will directly target the systematic failures that are currently causing students – specifically LGBTQ+ students – to fall through the cracks.
