We often ask survivors of sexual violence a familiar question:
Why didn’t you speak sooner?
The allegations in a recently filed lawsuit involving Cornell University’s Chi Phi fraternity suggest we should be asking another question just as urgently:
Why didn’t the people around her speak at all?
Jane Doe was 20 years old when, according to her civil complaint, she went to the Chi Phi fraternity house in October 2024 to visit someone she knew and trusted. The lawsuit alleges that she was pressured to consume a substance represented as ketamine, along with marijuana and alcohol, and became increasingly incapacitated.
At approximately 1:42 a.m., the complaint alleges, a fraternity member posted a message in a Snapchat group called “Chi Phi Actives” announcing “free p—y” upstairs. Other fraternity members allegedly responded and entered the room. The lawsuit alleges that seven fraternity members sexually assaulted Jane Doe over the following hours while she was impaired and unable to consent.
The allegations have not been proven in court, and attorneys for at least some of the accused have denied wrongdoing. But the case raises questions that extend far beyond the actions of the individuals accused.
Why Didn’t Anyone Intervene?
If the allegations are proven, one of the most disturbing aspects of this case is the suggestion that the alleged assault was not hidden from everyone around it.
The group messages described in the complaint raise difficult questions about those who allegedly knew what was happening, saw the messages, responded, entered the room, or may have had an opportunity to intervene.
Sexual violence does not persist only because of those who perpetrate it. It can also be enabled by environments where people remain silent, laugh along, protect friends, or decide that what they witnessed is someone else’s problem.
Men have an essential role in changing those environments.
That means challenging degrading language. It means refusing to normalize coercion as part of fraternity, athletic, workplace, or social culture. It means intervening when someone is too impaired to consent. And it means being willing to speak even when doing so may cost a friendship, status, or belonging.
We so often ask survivors why they did not say something.
We should also be asking why witnesses did not.
Who Carries the Consequences?
The case also raises questions about what happens after a survivor does speak.
No criminal charges were initially filed following the 2024 investigation. Tompkins County District Attorney Matthew Van Houten has said the allegations in the new civil complaint differ significantly from the information available to prosecutors at the time. Following the lawsuit, his office reopened the investigation and announced that evidence would be presented to a grand jury.
Cornell says it separately conducted a months-long Title IX investigation that resulted in sanctions including suspensions and expulsions, and the Chi Phi chapter remains barred from campus. The lawsuit alleges that some accused students were permitted to submit essays in mitigation. Cornell disputes the characterization that writing essays was their punishment and says essays were not offered as a sole consequence.
Those distinctions matter.
But there is another question we cannot lose sight of:
Who is carrying the lasting consequences?
An institutional proceeding has an ending. Trauma may not.
Survivors may continue carrying the physical, emotional, educational, professional, and financial consequences of sexual violence long after an investigation or disciplinary process concludes.
Jane Doe has said that what she alleges happened to her continues to affect “every aspect” of her life. She ultimately left Cornell.
Speaking Should Not Be Another Burden
Nearly two years after the alleged assault, Jane Doe chose to speak again through a civil lawsuit. The criminal investigation is now open again.
There is enormous courage in speaking about trauma, particularly after an earlier attempt at accountability did not lead to criminal charges.
But survivors should never have to demonstrate extraordinary courage simply to be heard.
Speaking cannot become another obligation we place on the person who has already experienced the harm. The responsibility to prevent sexual violence does not belong only to survivors. It belongs to friends, witnesses, institutions, investigators, educators, and communities.
This case is still unfolding. A civil complaint contains allegations, not findings of liability, and a reopened investigation does not determine guilt.
But the broader questions deserve our attention now.
What do we do when we see someone being degraded?
What do we do when a friend crosses a line?
Do our institutions create systems survivors can trust?
And why does the person carrying the greatest harm so often have to carry the fight for accountability too?
Silence is not always neutral. In environments where abuse is normalized, silence can protect those causing harm and further isolate those experiencing it.
Perhaps we should stop asking only why survivors did not speak sooner.
We should also ask why the people around them did not speak at all.
In solidarity,
Micha Star Liberty
Attorney | Survivor Advocate
