OPINION: Progress made, but spectre of victim-blaming lingers

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ll have heard lots of discussion around Nikita Hand’s recent civil assault case against Conor McGregor. The outcome of the case has confirmed what most of us already suspected for a long time: that McGregor, once lauded for his athletic prowess, is underneath, nothing a violent but cowardly thug, who had already shown us many times who he is. Now it has been proved in a court of law.
The case is the latest to have reignited conversations about accountability, power dynamics and societal attitudes toward men and women, offering a lens through which we can examine the evolving support for women who come forward with allegations of abuse against powerful, high-profile figures, and the lingering support for their abusers.
It is a reminder that rape and sexual assault is never about sex, but instead, is about power and dominance. It also proves that despite our society’s growing recognition of the need to empower and believe survivors, the spectre of victim-blaming does continue to linger, and is sometimes perpetuated even by women themselves.
Like many others involving wealthy, powerful men, the McGregor case underscores the immense courage required by women like Nikita Hand to speak out, particularly in light of the State’s refusal to bring a criminal case against him.
The courts can be hard, unforgiving spaces, where victims of sexual assault can and often do feel like they are the ones on trial. Historically, women who have made allegations have faced not only disbelief but also outright hostility, with the potential danger to men’s reputations being the primary concern.
Let’s crack open that myth right now.
Contrary to once-powerful belief, accusations of rape, sexual abuse or sexual misconduct do not ruin men’s lives. They continue to become presidents of the most powerful countries in the world. They are bestowed with leading roles in Hollywood movies. Closer to home, they can put their names on our ballot papers.
Undeniably, thanks to cultural movements like #MeToo, we have come a long way in supporting women who step forward. Women increasingly rally around each another, offering solidarity instead of suspicion. The chorus of voices demanding accountability has grown louder and more unified, creating a ripple effect across industries, from sports to entertainment to politics.
Institutions and public figures now face greater scrutiny and are held accountable in ways that were unthinkable just a decade ago. Consent is more widely understood, and indeed, in his guidance to the jury in the McGregor case, Mr Justice Alexander Owens delivered what has been referred to as a ‘masterclass’ in consent, smashing through traditional myths and stereotypes around rape and sexual assault.
Progress, however, is never linear. The McGregor case also highlights a stubborn undercurrent of victim-blaming that persists in public discourse. What is perhaps most disheartening is that this blame is sometimes propagated by women themselves, a case in point being the vicious diatribe posted by McGregor’s partner Dee Devlin on social media after the verdict, taking aim at Nikita Hand while excusing the perpetrator of the crime and extolling his family values. It is hard not to speculate on the circumstances in which this was posted, and on the nature of the environment in which she herself lives with McGregor and the couple’s four children.
Less fathomable, however, is the remaining public support for McGregor, with his remaining 47 million Instagram followers, thousands of whom still staunchly defend him while casting aspersions on Hand. Whether it’s out of internalised misogyny or a lack of understanding of the trauma experienced by survivors, such attitudes can undermine and inhibit progress, and further retraumatise other victims, including the many who might never have taken action against their abusers.
Victim-blaming takes many forms: questioning what the survivor was wearing, what she has consumed, why she was in a particular place, why she didn’t leave earlier, her motives and her mental stability. In high-profile cases, survivors not only face scepticism but also public vilification, often driven by celebrity worship and the reluctance of fans to accept that their idols are flawed – because it raises questions about their own judgement.
When women participate in this victim blaming, it can feel like a real betrayal, both to the victim and to the broader feminist movement that seeks to dismantle such harmful attitudes. Deeply ingrained patriarchal societal norms that have pitted women against each other for centuries are hard to dismantle.
The lesson here is twofold. First, we must continue to celebrate and support the bravery of women who come forward, understanding that their courage often comes at great personal cost. Second, we need to challenge victim-blaming wherever it arises, including within our own ranks. This means calling out harmful rhetoric, educating ourselves and others about trauma, and fostering a culture of empathy rather than judgment. And it is vital that men really start to step up and lead by example in this space, because to date, they have been shamefully slow to do so.
In the end, the real takeaway is the strength of women and the support they give and receive. But that strength will only flourish fully when society – men and women alike – stops asking why she did or didn’t do what she did, and starts asking why he did it at all.
If you have been affected by issues raised this column, free, confidential support is available in the community from Mayo Rape Crisis Centre (1800 234900/www.mrcc.ie) and Mayo Women’s Support Services (094 9025409/www.mwss.ie).