Becoming an Ethical Bystander: What Would You Do?

Becoming an Ethical Bystander:

Impact’s Cora-Laine asks us all to think carefully about the decisions we make on nights out: decisions that could end up saving a friend from a really dangerous or negative experience.

I want you to imagine yourself at a house party, right before everyone heads off to the city for a night of dancing, drinking and rendezvousing with attractive strangers.

Empty bottles are scattered everywhere. Half-full cups are scattered everywhere. Pizza boxes are scattered everywhere. Some drinks have been spilled, and some guy has already drunk himself to sleep on the sofa – the typical threadbare sofa you’d expect to find in a student house. A couple of girls are chatting by the stairs, leaning in so close that their breath almost mingles. One tangles a loose hair around her finger as she laughs at whatever the other says. The music is too loud and some song you don’t recognise is playing, but it’s okay, because Mr. Brightside was on earlier and everyone knows that one.

Now, you find yourself heading to the door where your friend – let’s call her Jessica – has just arrived. Jessica isn’t that much of a party person, but she doesn’t mind the odd drink or two. Today, she’s not in the mood for it though, and her sunken face tells you that she’s upset. Yet, there stands Tom and Sarah – these are your other two friends – already on the verge of being drunk, barely managing to keep the grins off their faces and using the wall to balance. They’re pushing a neon pink-coloured drink into Jessica’s hand and encouraging her to ‘down it’, like they are with theirs. Reluctantly, she gives in, sipping the liquid you can all but assume is mixed from the different bottles of alcohol lining the kitchen. You join them. She sips that drink the rest of the night, never having another.

Jump forward three hours. Music is booming in your ears. Bodies are crashing into you. You’re pumping your fist to the beat as your feet slam into the ground with each jump. Tom’s there. Sarah’s there. But Jessica isn’t. So, you go to look for her. First, you try the bar. You can’t see the blonde/ brunette/redhead (whatever colour her hair is) bobbing around. It’s not too crowded there. Most of the clubbers are down on the dance floor, except for just a handful. Two of whom are the girls from earlier, the two who were sat on the stairs. A guy hovers behind one so you can’t see her clearly, but the other… her face is fully visible to you, and it is showing discomfort. Complete disgust. Outrage. The two girls are visibly distressed, while the guy just stands there, hands up and laughing. Enter bar right: a couple of his mates are coming over. The girls’ faces are crying out for help. What do you do?

Five, ten, fifteen minutes – whatever amount of time you spend there – later, you continue your search for Jessica. This time heading towards the toilets. The queue for the women’s is long, full of faces and people you don’t recognise. You scan the entire line, hoping to see Jessica. But, again, she’s not there. You turn to go to the club entrance, but across the corridor, slumped against the wall, is that guy from the sofa and a girl with her head in the crook of his neck. He’s awake now, just about. As you get closer, you see his eyes are rolling, and he’s using the wall for support, hardly managing to stand upright on his own. The girl doesn’t notice. She keeps her lips to his body and her hands travelling south. What do you do?

More time passes and you’re now outside. The bouncers control the queue, shooing away students who are too drunk, and patrolling the entrance like it’s their den. Cigarette smoke wafts through the air. Then finally, you see Jessica. She’s kneeled over on the side of the road, vomiting bright green onto the grey path. Her hands press into the concrete, her hair slips in and out of the sick. Her body starts swaying before she falls forward. What do you

do?

An investigation by the BBC found that, between 2015-19, there were 2,650 reports of drink spiking in England and Wales, of which 72% of victims were women. Between March 2016 and March 2017, the Crime Survey for England and Wales (CSEW) estimated that, since the age of 16, 20% of women and 4% of men had experienced some type of sexual assault, equivalent to 3.4 million female and 631,000 male victims. Nights out are meant to be fun and memorable in the best way. Something to look forward to all week and revel in during the moment. They’re not supposed to be traumatic or distressing. Sexual harassment, abuse and spiking are very real things. Unfortunately, they can happen at any time; before, during or after what should simply be a carefree, enjoyable night out. All too often, students will witness their friends falling victim to these exact events, without realising or taking steps to intervene.

This is why, as a student community, we need to become ethical bystanders. People that protect each other from negative experiences. People who choose to influence a situation positively before the very worst happens. So, what would you do? Would you go to the aid of someone you didn’t know who looked distressed? Would you look after a friend that has gotten themself into a bad state? Would you intervene when you see someone being harassed or experiencing unwanted sexual advances?

What would you do?

By Cora-Laine Moynihan

Illustration by Ciara Lurshay Page Design by Chiara Crompton