Russell Brand probably thought he would get away with it. A lot of women probably thought he would, too. He might have imagined he’d leave that courtroom, go home and get back into his usual attire – one of the dressing gowns he typically wears to broadcast on his YouTube channel. He’d hop online to film a nonsensical video in which he rails against the establishment that was trying to silence and cancel him, so impassioned as he dissects his mistreatment that he’s spitting all over the camera. But though society – and the justice system – has tended to favour the accused over victims when it comes to sexual crimes, Brand is now a convicted rapist.
To me, it seemed perfectly clear that Brand was guilty and knew it. How else do you explain the years-long operation that is the “Russell re-Brand”? In some ways it’s a tale as old as time: high-profile man does rape and rape-adjacent activities. Said man is so famous and powerful that he gets away with rape and rape-adjacent activities. But then, a shift – in this instance a joint media investigation in 2023 that prompted courageous victims to come forward.
Brand had been preparing for this for years, planting seeds with the public about his personal plight: mental health issues, alcoholism, sex addiction. The final boss? He found God. By the time charges were finally brought last year, his “defence” had already been woven into the psyche of his fans. His social media following has actually grown by two million since the allegations against him became public.
It might well have worked. There’s a reason why most rape survivors don’t go to the police. Fewer than three in 100 rapes that were recorded by police in 2024 resulted in someone being charged that same year, according to Rape Crisis England and Wales. As a woman who has been raped, and struggled with my own guilt over not going to the police, for fear of the impact on my mental health, I have endless admiration for the women who do. Especially when it means coming up against a man as high-profile and powerful and manipulative as Brand. One who can fund the kind of defence that does not hesitate to shame and blame women. “Not one of them resisted or screamed or even tried to leave,” went his lawyers’ argument at one point. They questioned why the fan that Brand anally raped “didn’t roll over, or kick out, or try to stop him in any way…”
I was raped anally, and as much as I did try to stop it, I couldn’t, and so after that I disassociated. I left my body so that I didn’t have to feel what was going on. This disassociation is now unfortunately a symptom I have whenever I feel in any form of danger. Being raped, in any which way, is a life-altering experience that takes your body away from you. To try and excuse Brand’s behaviour by saying women could have done something to prevent it is to undermine all of the psychological and physiological impacts rape has.
When I started doing stand-up back in 2018, I was 24. Before that, I’d had no idea of the sheer volume of grim tales about Brand. I remember, as a newcomer, sitting in a green room and listening to some older female comedians talk about the inevitability of him one day being exposed. I remembered how, around a decade before, when Brand briefly lived on the next road to me in north London, my friends and I would lurk around his house in the hope of catching a glimpse of him. As I listened to these women I admired, I felt ashamed that I had unwittingly hero-worshipped a rapist as a teenage girl. But that shame isn’t mine. The shame belongs to that man, and the many people who enabled him. Because, in spite of his predatory behaviour being an open secret in the industry, they continued to work to make him a star – a star that young girls would inevitably obsess over.
The jury that convicted Brand of four out of seven charges was made up of eight men and four women. That tells me they saw through the defence of blaming victims. It is a glimmer of light and it makes me hopeful. Hopeful that the verdict will send a signal to others who think they can rape someone and get away with it. And hopeful that it offers some catharsis for the brave women who spoke out about Brand, as well as all of the others who know how it feels to want to see a rapist behind bars.
For so many women watching, this verdict comes as a moment of reassurance, relief, vindication. But accused men are still being protected. This week, another male celebrity asked the High Court to permanently prevent two news organisations from naming him as the subject of allegations of serial sexual misconduct. The application was refused, but he still has anonymity while he decides whether to appeal. I’m sure he watched this verdict closely, too. I hope he knows the tide is turning.