Same Issue, Different Story

Image via AP Photo/Adrian Kraus

***

No means no. For many of us, that seems so self-explanatory. But when an alleged sexual assault occurs on a college campus, answering the institutional question of what to do next is surprisingly muddled, despite decades of dealing with that same issue. 

Same Issue, Different Story.

Sexual assault is not a single legal category with one universal definition. Its precise definition varies depending on the applicable law and institutional context. What remains consistent across these discussions, however, is the concept of consent: whether it was given, whether it was maintained, and whether an institution’s response appropriately addresses each allegation that it was absent. 

Nearly 5 decades ago, students at Yale confronted a problem that remains remarkably familiar today. In Alexander v. Yale University, students challenged Yale’s handling of sexual harassment and sexual misconduct and argued that the university’s failure to address it implicated Title IX. In 1980, the 2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals’ decision became an important part of the legal history surrounding sexual harassment and Title IX in higher education.

Many would like to believe that, nearly fifty years later, we have progressed far beyond the problems confronting students in the 1970s. In many ways, we have. Nearly fifty years later, universities have built substantially more intricate systems for reporting, investigating, and responding to sexual misconduct than were in place when Alexander was decided. In theory, we’ve come so far in addressing sexual assault, but institutional development and institutional success are not the same thing. Consent’s meaning may be straightforward, but putting it into practice somehow remains at odds across many college campuses.

The controversy now unfolding at Cornell University strikes a chord at the very heart of this problem across America. In October 2024, a Cornell student, using the pseudonym Jane Doe, reported an alleged sexual assault involving members of the Chi Phi fraternity. In September 2026, she filed a civil lawsuit alleging that seven fraternity members sexually assaulted her. Prosecutors initially declined to bring criminal charges, but the Tompkins County district attorney has since reopened the investigation and said the case would be presented to a grand jury. Most recently, New York Governor Kathy Hochul appointed New York State Attorney General Letitia James as special prosecutor in the case.

The university’s disciplinary action has become a point of public scrutiny. The lawsuit alleges that students received different disciplinary outcomes: two individuals were suspended, whereas the other five faced disciplinary measures, including writing essays. Across social media, the disparity in those disciplinary outcomes has sparked strong public outcry, particularly from those who dispute that the university’s disciplinary actions did not go far enough in addressing the gravity of the allegations, intensifying questions about what meaningful institutional accountability should look like. 

The task force that Cornell appointed to alleviate this problem found that 35% of undergraduate women and 8% of undergraduate men reported experiencing sexual assault during their time at Cornell in 2025. However, the survey had a low response rate, meaning that percentages may not be fully representative of Cornell’s undergraduate population.

The public response has extended far beyond university offices and courtrooms. Social media users have adopted the phrase “I am Jane Doe” to protect her anonymity and express solidarity. But the question of institutional trust extends far beyond social media. In Cornell’s Undergraduate Experience Survey, 46% of respondents agreed or strongly agreed that Cornell would take reports of sexual assault seriously, while 23% disagreed or strongly disagreed, and 32% were neutral and did not know. 

These numbers do not establish that Cornell is an institution that does not care. Rather, they reveal a degree of uncertainty among students about how the university should respond to serious reports. The desire to have sexual assault be taken seriously presents society with an uncomfortable question: if universities and governments have spent decades constructing complex systems to address this issue, why does public confidence in those systems remain so fragile?

Although many people are turning to Cornell to seek accountability, the questions raised by this case extend beyond a single institution. Sexual assault is an issue that affects not only Cornell but also college campuses from state to state. According to Rainn, 13% of college students experience sexual assault or rape after enrolling in college. The widespread occurrence of this issue raises a broader question: How can America’s colleges do better to make their students feel safer? 

The concept of consent seems so simple, so how is it possible that the same issue continues to unfold in the lives of many college students across the nation? Should universities go beyond the bare minimum to make survivors feel heard and empower victims too afraid to speak out?

Nearly fifty years after Alexander v. Yale, the systems to address this issue have become more elaborate. But the real question is whether they have become more effective.

Same issue, different story.

***

This article was edited by Anthony Medina.