Each year, International Women's Day arrives with a familiar rhythm of celebration, statistics, and statements of support. This year's theme, "Give to Gain", invites us to consider something deeper: the idea that progress for women does not emerge from slogans or ceremonies, but from the everyday choices we make to stand beside one another. 

It sounds simple. 

In reality, it is far more demanding. 

The global response to Gisèle Pelicot has been powerful and, in many ways, inspiring… and asks us to consider the following: 

Every woman knows a victim. Yet no man knows a rapist. How is that possible? 

Every woman I know can name a woman who has been raped. 

Many of us can name several women. 

Yet in public conversation about sexual violence, I rarely hear a man say he knows a rapist. 

That contradiction sits at the centre of how society understands, and misunderstands, sexual violence. 

According to the World Health Organisation, approximately one in three women globally experience physical or sexual violence in their lifetime¹. This is not a marginal phenomenon, or something ascribed to one ethnicity, nationality or culture. It is a structural pattern documented across every region and culture. 

In England and Wales alone, the Office for National Statistics reports that around one in four women have experienced sexual assault since the age of 16². The data consistently show that sexual violence is widespread, not exceptional. When we include the data for females younger than 16, the figures are heartbreaking. 

If these prevalence figures are accurate, then perpetrators cannot be rare anomalies. In fact, we know that the majority of the women are attacked by males known to them. 

These men are embedded in all areas of society. You may even be sitting next to one at work, on the train or in a restaurant. 

They exist in homes, universities, workplaces, faith communities and families. 

This is why the case of Gisèle Pelicot captured global attention. Her husband drugged her and facilitated repeated raping sessions by multiple men, choosing to record the abuse on video for his own gratification, and of men online. The presence of recorded evidence changed the prosecutorial landscape because it removed ambiguity³. 

Video evidence made the case legally undeniable, and yet, Dominic Pelicot's lawyer, Béatrice Zavarro served as his defence lawyer. A woman, defending a man for repeatedly raping his wife, inviting other men to violate her, and recording it. 

And here is an uncomfortable question: why does female solidarity expand so visibly, and so quickly, when evidence is overwhelming, yet hesitate when a woman speaks without such proof? 

And why would a woman choose to defend a man of such heinous crimes when there is such overwhelming evidence? 

I know this tension personally. 

I was drugged, transported to two different locations and raped. 

There was no footage, no archived material, no technological proof, and the case did not proceed because evidential thresholds were not met, even though forensic evidence was able to identify the perpetrator, who was already known to police with his DNA on file. It came down to a 'he said/she said' case, as is the reasoning for most reported cases. 

That experience is far more common than the high-profile cases that dominate headlines. 

Most survivors do not have documentation. Trauma research shows that intoxication and shock disrupt memory encoding, often producing fragmented recall rather than a linear narrative. In court, that fragmentation can weaken credibility, even with forensic evidence, and even though fragmentation of memory is consistent with how trauma affects the brain. 

The gap between prevalence and prosecution reflects this reality. 

Data from the Crown Prosecution Service show that only a small proportion of recorded rape cases result in charges⁴. While reporting numbers fluctuate, the proportion that progresses to prosecution remains low relative to the scale of offences reported. 

False allegations are frequently raised as a counterweight to these statistics. Yet empirical research suggests that false reporting rates for rape sit in the low single digits, typically estimated between two and five per cent, and are broadly comparable to false reporting rates for other serious crimes. One widely cited peer-reviewed study found that false allegations represented a small fraction of reported cases when carefully analysed⁵. 

The key point is not that false allegations never occur. They do. The key point is that they are statistically rare compared with the volume of sexual violence that goes unprosecuted. 

Despite this, fear of false accusation remains culturally powerful. Both men and women buy into the narrative, and it shapes how complaints are received by family, friends and the organisations put in place to support rape victims. This misleading narrative influences institutional hesitation, and it often becomes the first defensive question asked when a woman speaks. 

Another distortion emerges in how sexual violence is discussed publicly. 

Media narratives sometimes frame rape as disproportionately committed by men from particular ethnic backgrounds. However, conviction data from the Ministry of Justice consistently show that the majority of sexual offence perpetrators reflect the broader demographic composition of the population⁶. Sexual violence in Britain is overwhelmingly perpetrated by men, and most victims know the person who violated them. 

Racialisation of crime narratives often creates the impression that sexual violence is an external threat rather than a structural pattern embedded within ordinary social proximity. 

And this distorted perception matters, because if perpetrators are imagined as outsiders, then accountability can be displaced, and racism is allowed to spread, along with religious hatred. 

If they are understood as ordinary men within ordinary networks, then responsibility becomes closer to home… and we have to shift our belief systems, as uncomfortable as that may be. 

This year's International Women's Day theme speaks about "Give to Gain"⁷. 

The solidarity amongst women is often discussed as symbolic support, posts shared, statements issued, applause for the most visible cases. 

But real gain for women does not come from selective belief. It comes from consistent belief in one another.  

It comes from extending credibility to those struggling, and to survivors of sexual violence even when their cases lack public spectacle, as in Ms Pelicot's case. 

Justice systems must operate on evidence because that standard is needed to protect due process. 

But social solidarity does not require video footage. It does not require multiple defendants, nor does it require institutional validation before offering support. It requires sisterhood, a sense of trust and loyalty, of belief, and solidarity when it is needed the most. 

If we genuinely accept the prevalence data from the WHO and ONS, which I admit I double and triple check many times over, as they too are not infallible, then we must accept the logical consequence that: 

• Sexual violence is widespread. 

• Predators don't have a particular 'look about them' 

• Perpetrators are socially embedded. 

• Most cases will never be accompanied by perfect evidence. 

Until solidarity expands beyond high-profile cases and into the quieter, less documented realities of survivors, the contradiction that "Every woman knows a victim, but no man knows a rapist" will remain unresolved. 

The question is whether society is willing to acknowledge the perpetrators, not only when cameras are rolling, but when accountability requires courage not just from the victim themselves, but the friends, family and colleagues surrounding them. 

We are not the dirty little secrets or the ones to be snubbed or dismissed because we speak out, because as Gisèle Pelicot's book so aptly states, the shame must swap sides. 

References 

1. World Health Organization – Violence Against Women Prevalence Estimates 
2. Office for National Statistics – Crime Survey for England and Wales: Sexual Offences Data
3. Public reporting on the Pelicot trial – recorded evidence central to prosecution
4. Crown Prosecution Service – RASSO Statistics Reports
5. Lisak, D. et al. (2010). False Allegations of Sexual Assault: An Analysis of Ten Years of Reported Cases. Violence Against Women.
6. Ministry of Justice – Criminal Justice System Statistics (defendant demographic data for sexual offences)
7. International Women's Day – Official Theme Documentation