The absence of a ‘no’ is not an implicit yes. This is the overarching principle of a long-fought Swedish ‘consent law’ aimed at dismantling the ‘no means no’ framework; a system rooted in the idea that a person needed to explicitly resist for it to constitute rape.

Women’s rights activist Demet Ergun is hopeful the law, which came into force in 2018, will facilitate understanding of consent but adds dryly that ‘People don’t pay enough attention to the fact that sex should be something done ‘with’ someone, not ‘to’ them.’ As President of the women’s rights coalition Fatta, Demet knows all too well the time-worn path to legislative change. It was Fatta that spearheaded the campaign to reform Swedish rape laws.

The movement for change was sparked when the acquittal of three 19-year-old men accused of raping a 15-year-old* girl with a glass bottle in 2013 provoked mass protests. From the ashes of this horrifying rape case, feminist resistance rose up. Fed up with having women’s and girls’ experiences of sexual violence minimised by society and courts of law, the founders of what was to become Fatta began to gather together, collecting women’s stories and raising public awareness, before formally establishing the organisation.

Under the new law, rape survivors no longer have to prove there was threat, force, or that they were taken advantage of in a vulnerable situation. The law states that consent can never be freely given by people who are intoxicated, incapacitated, under duress, or in a situation of unequal power dynamics or dependency, such as sex between a teacher and their student.

After the law was implemented, Sweden saw rape conviction rates rise by 75% between 2019 and 2020. Four years ago, many of these cases wouldn’t legally have constituted rape; a shocking indictment of just how many survivors of sexual violence have never received justice. Gender-based violence expertise or training is still not required to be a juror in a rape trial, which Demet says must change.

Sweden’s consent law also introduced a new, lesser offence of ‘negligent rape’ to make it possible to get justice for survivors in cases where courts found that while the intent to knowingly disregard the victim’s lack of consent could not be proven, the perpetrator had failed to clarify whether or not consent was being given, and therefore should have stopped and asked. The law’s acknowledgment that rape can still happen in the absence of force or threat is important to dismantling the myth that most rape is perpetrated by strangers. It also rejects the notion that prior consent is ‘forever’ consent and includes situations in which the victim ‘freezes’ or is taken by surprise and does not have time to react.

Demet explains that the presumption of innocence until proven guilty hasn’t been replaced, but now the court has to decide whether or not consent was given: ‘Previously the victim had to prove that there was a strong indication of resistance. Now the accused has to show they received consent and how this was interpreted. A key difference is that physical evidence is no longer required. This is important because of the 'frozen fight' situation; often people can’t fight off perpetrators or control how their body reacts.’

Opponents of the law argue consent can’t be proven, but sexual violence campaigners insist that it can be expressed clearly either verbally or through nonverbal cues, such as positive body language like smiling, maintaining eye contact, and nodding. We have been taught that sex is about setting a silent ambiance and that talking can ‘break the mood’. However, questions can facilitate a positive sexual experience in myriad ways from creating comfort to establishing intimacy.