Drink spiking messaging is erasing the perpetrator

Women in a bar with men. | Newsreel
Drink spiking is a complex issue, which needs to be addressed from many angles . | Photo: Dimensions (iStock)

By Jessica Ison, Ingrid Wilson and Leesa Hooker

Schoolies season is here – and with it, warnings about staying safe while partying. For girls and women, this often means being told to watch their drinks while out at a bar or club to avoid them being spiked.

We tend to imagine drink spiking as a male stranger adding drugs to a woman’s drink at a bar without her knowing, usually with the aim of sexually assaulting her.

This is certainly a risk. But the full picture of drink spiking is more complex and can involve intimate partners, at home, as the recent horrific case of Gisèle Pelicot in France has made clear.

Yet public messaging about drink spiking continues to focus on what women should “watch out for”. Our research shows this makes them entirely responsible for their own safety, reinforcing blame and shame if it happens. It also erases perpetrators – and why they do it – from the story.

What do we know about drink spiking?

We recently reviewed the global literature on sexual violence facilitated by alcohol and other drugs.

We looked at 53 studies – mostly involving US university students – and found there was inconsistent data about how common it was. Most studies focused on victim-survivors with limited attention paid to perpetration.

But we found in most cases, the perpetrator was male and knew the victim-survivor.

The most common substance used to “spike” drinks is alcohol. For example, the perpetrator might buy double shots instead of single ones, without the victim-survivor knowing.

Sexual violence facilitated by drugs and alcohol was most likely to happen in a private residence, not a public venue. That could be at a house party or after a date or party, when the victim-survivor may already be intoxicated and the perpetrator gets them alone.

In some cases the perpetrator has a premeditated plan. This is known as “proactive” drug and alcohol facilitated violence, and is what most people imagine when we talk about drink spiking.

But sexual violence facilitated by drugs and alcohol is often opportunistic. This means exploiting someone’s impairment and inability to consent, for example if they are already very drunk.

‘It’s not us who should feel shame’

In interviews we did with eight victim-survivors across Victoria, those who were sexually assaulted talked about the shame they experience and how this impacts them.

Some of those we spoke to were actually able to get to safety after becoming incapacitated. While they weren’t sexually assaulted, they told us the spiking itself had a significant impact on their lives, including difficulty leaving the house.

In Pelicot’s case, her husband is on trial along with dozens of men who he allegedly invited to rape while she was drugged without her knowing. (He has pleaded guilty but some of the men have denied the charges.) While this is an extreme example, her story shows how sexual violence facilitated by drugs can be used in intimate partner abuse.

Importantly, Pelicot’s bravery, in deciding for the trial to be public, has highlighted the need to foreground the perpetrator’s actions, rather than the victim-survivors. She has said, “It’s not us who should feel shame, it’s them”.

Women forced to do the work to stay safe

Yet perpetrators are rarely talked about with drink spiking. Instead, the focus is on what women should do to stay safe.

They are often forced to think about their actions when in public, constantly engaging in “safety work”. This may include being hyper-vigilant of their drinks and surroundings or sharing their location with friends.

As our research shows, this is partly in response to media reporting, which often blames victims – for example, highlighting whether they were drunk. This reinforces rape myths that suggest women are to blame for the violence done to them.

Even listing what women should do to keep themselves safe (or promoting drug-detecting gadgets) can perpetuate this.

As our research shows, we need to change misconceptions around drink spiking, and alcohol and other drug facilitated sexual violence more broadly.

This includes shifting the focus to a culture of men’s entitlement and power, as well as addressing harmful alcohol cultures.

What to do if you suspect someone’s drink has been spiked

We don’t adhere to narratives that simply tell women to “keep themselves safe”. But we know women are nevertheless doing this safety work, particularly at events such as schoolies.

It’s important to know how to support people who may have had their drink spiked. We’ve developed a resource for bar staff to help patrons to get home safely.

It encourages them to identify the risks, such as the most common perpetrator being a friend or date. And it involves believing and listening to the victim and responding to their needs. This could include helping arrange safe transport home or calling an ambulance if necessary.

This information may also be useful for friends and bystanders. But the real action needed is cultural change that challenges men’s sexual entitlement and encourages respect for women’s consent.

What else is needed?

Research has tended to focus on young heterosexual women who frequent bars and clubs. But we know this happens in other settings and to other groups, such as older people, in the LGBTQ+ community and between intimate partners.

We need nationwide data that listens to the experiences of victim-survivors and gives a broader understanding of who it affects.

The diversity of victim-survivors needs to be better researched. More difficult, but crucial, is to understand who perpetrates this violence and why.

– Jessica Ison is a Senior Lecturer and Deputy Director, Reducing Gender-Based Violence Research Group, La Trobe University.

– Ingrid Wilson is an  Assistant Professor, Health and Social Sciences, Singapore Institute of Technology.

– Leesa Hooker is a Professor, Principal Research Fellow at the La Trobe Rural Health School, La Trobe University.

This article was first published in The Conversation