I see so many people – writers, pundits, politicians – spilling so much ink in consternation over the fate of those accused of rape. I see statistics trotted out, analyzed, dismissed, deconstructed, defended, denied. I see stories of survivors picked apart, analyzed bit by bit in the court of public opinion, knowing that the person who came forward did so knowing this would happen. I see men – always men – complaining that women should report these crimes so we can get these rapists off the streets. I see feminists proposing that women should be jailed if they refuse to cooperate with police once a report has been filed – for the good of the rest of the community, you see. I see women who have publicly spoken about their own experience of assault write 5,000 word pieces about why we need to be more careful about who we accuse and what we women drink.