Aziz Ansari Is Guilty. Of Not Being a Mind Reader.
Yet Mr. Ansari, in a statement responding to Grace’s story, said that “by all indications” the encounter was “completely consensual.”
I am a proud feminist, and this is what I thought while reading Grace’s story:
If you are hanging out naked with a man, it’s safe to assume he is going to try to have sex with you.
If you don’t like the way your date hustles through paying the check, you can say, “I’ve had a lovely evening and I’m going home now.”
If you go home with him and discover he’s a terrible kisser, say “I’m out.”
If you start to hook up and don’t like the way he smells or the way he talks (or doesn’t talk), end it.
We are told by the reporter that Grace “says she used verbal and nonverbal cues to indicate how uncomfortable and distressed she was.” She adds
that “whether Ansari didn’t notice Grace’s reticence or knowingly ignored it is impossible for her to say.” We are told that “he wouldn’t let her move away from him,” in the encounter.
If you are wondering what about this evening constituted the “worst night” of Grace’s life, or why it is being
framed as a #MeToo story by a feminist website, you probably feel as confused as Mr. Ansari did the next day.
The single most distressing thing to me about Grace’s story is that the only person with any agency in the story seems to be Aziz Ansari.
Grace’s story was met with so many digital hosannas by young feminists, who insisted
that consent is only consent if it is affirmative, active, continuous and — and this is the word most used — enthusiastic.
At last, she uttered the word “no” for the first time during their encounter, to Mr. Ansari’s suggestion that they have sex in front of a mirror.
