Accuser: Simply The Wrong Word
When the story of former NFL star Lawrence Taylor broke a couple of months ago, I was angry but not surprised to find the victim in the case- a child used in prostitution by a Bronx pimp- referred to as “Taylor’s Accuser.” Really? Even when we’re talking about a child, beaten into submission and presented to a huge, rich, middle-aged man like a snack from a serving tray, we’re going to insist that she be labeled an “accuser?”It’s become an endemic part of the sleepless news cycle. “Accuser” is how the media now commonly refers to the person who has made a complaint of sexual assault, regardless of the circumstances. It’s replaced the antiquated legal term “prosecutrix,” the feminine term that was used in criminal justice particularly in the realm of rape. On its face, it’s hard to argue with the designation of “accuser.” Unlike prosecutrix, it is sex neutral and seems less paternalistic. And it’s technically correct. The person who makes a complaint of sexual assault against another is, by definition, accusing that person. So what’s wrong with it?The issue is the weight, and connotations, of “accuser.” The word has a storied history in our culture, and it’s not pretty. Puritanical, early America was stained by episodes of religious hysteria, exacerbated by superstition and fueled by the misery and uncertainty of 17th century colonial life. Witch trials predated the Puritans by centuries in Europe, but the Salem witch trials in Massachusetts bored their way deep into the American psyche. The story, of course, involved accusations of witchcraft on the part of village women, many of whom began to accuse each other in order to divert the suspicion that had been cast onto them, or to gain some other advantage as the hysteria continued. The motives of the accusing women varied, but all had one thing in common: Their accusations were largely or completely false. Made famous first by author Nathaniel Hawthorne (Hawthorne was a descendant of witch trial Judge Hathorne and so ashamed that he added a letter to his last name), the story was picked up in the 1950’s by the playwright Arthur Miller in “The Crucible.” Miller’s adaptation of the story was driven by the hysteria of the McCarthy era in which accusations of Communism, also usually false, were dispensed recklessly, destroying careers and lives.The accusing women of Salem weren’t just incorrect, either. According to lore at least, by and large their finger-pointing, high-pitched accusations were fanciful, destructive and cruel. They tormented the innocent and shamed themselves, playing on the fears of a hapless and vulnerable community. They were accusers; they were not victims, certainly not in the way they claimed. It is this legacy that lingers when the word “accuser” is used in the context of a sexual violence case. At very least, labeling someone an “accuser” conjures doubt in the accusation. At worst, it subtly but clearly connotes ulterior motives, mental illness, or evil intent.Supporters of the designation claim that using the term “victim” for a person who has made a report of sexual violence is presumptuous and possibly unfair in the case of a mistaken or false accusation. American criminal justice is based on a presumption of innocence, after all. Defense attorneys around the country have been successful in recent years in preventing DA’s and witnesses from using the term “victim” in court to describe the prosecution’s main witness prior to a conviction of the defendant.Part of what drives these arguments is the fact that most sex cases (either adult or child) are not “whodunnit” cases. The question usually isn’t who committed the act; the great majority of the time the perpetrator is known to the victim. The question is whether the act was committed at all, or if the “accuser” is wrong, malevolent, mentally ill, under pressure to lie, or some combination of all of these. The problem with this analysis, though, is that it assumes some sort of roughly equal balance between “real” cases and false reports. False accusations do occur, but the idea that most or even many charges of sexual violence are false is grossly misleading. Thorough and methodological research puts the rate of false reports for sexual assault no higher than that of other crimes at the highest. Nevertheless, when it comes to accusations of sexual violence, ancient myths suggest that rape allegations need to be looked at with a more suspect eye than other cases. This is despite the fact that other crimes, like car theft or insurance fraud, offer much greater incentives to falsely report and are probably reported that way at higher rates.My suggestion for a compromise is the word “complainant.” It’s a little legalistic, but easily understood and technically every bit as correct as “accuser.” But without the punishing baggage of history and myth. Unfortunately, too many of the purveyors of the term “accuser” employ it for exactly that reason. So-called “Men’s Rights” groups, “false rape” websites and other like-minded sources want there to be a veneer of doubt over the idea that women, children and some men are sexually abused and assaulted in rates that are frankly alarming. As for the media, I sense the term has gained traction at least in part because it suggests the kind of knockdown, high-stakes dispute that sells papers. The idea of an “accuser” evokes courtroom theater, pointed fingers, surprise twists and hidden agendas.This is as tragic as it is unfair; the very act of standing up for oneself as a survivor of sexual violence and starting the terribly slow and uncertain wheels of justice is by itself a cathartic and deeply impressive profile in courage. Those who perpetrate the myths fear this, and so prefer to cast “accusers” as hysterical or worse. The media seems unimpressed with the sometimes desperate and always difficult act of coming forward, apparently seeing it as too mundane with out some provocative term to hang on the survivor. They’re wrong. The evil that underlies the acts is mundane; all evil is at bottom. But the journey toward survival and the quest for justice is anything but. It’s sad that it’s still not enough.