Why is pepper spray still the ‘best’ rape prevention tech?
But Apple’s new emergency alert service could change that
The week I moved to San Francisco, one of the first things my mom asked was whether I had pepper spray. I do. It’s the most user-friendly and inexpensive technology I can think of to prevent an attack.
Despite the heap of rape alert buttons and prevention apps of the past several years, pepper spray continues to be the status quo of self-defense gadgets for women. Why hasn’t a more reliable and universal assault alert device surfaced?
As Apple introduced an emergency alert service to its watch at WWDC recently, some heralded the app as a win for women, who have been historically underrepresented tech consumers.
The tool follows an army of similar products (wearables, apps, clothing) that purport to defend against physical attack. Many of the products get crowdfunded on sites like Indiegogo and Kickstarter, but only to the prototype stage. The physical tools fall short of successful social campaigns and online activism. Under the viral #YesAllWomen hashtag, women revealed they walk with keys between their fingers, an imperfect and makeshift weapon against potential attackers.
Entrepreneurs have been trying. ROAR For Good raised over $313,000 on Indiegogo for Athena, a small button that emits a loud alarm and messages pre-determined contacts with the wearer’s location.
“We found that women don’t like the self-defense tools that are out there,” Yasmine Mustafa, founder of ROAR For Good, told Fast Company. “They’re too hard to use. They’re afraid they’ll use them against themselves. They don’t want to be in hand-to-hand combat in the first place.”
Close combat is one reason potential victims hesitate, even when using supposedly non-lethal tools like pepper spray. But whistles and horns have their own issues, necessitating “dramatic,” potentially public action, a challenging step for most people. They ask users to make aggressive decisions quickly, rather than on an escalating scale.
More subtle and customizable tech tools like Athena seem promising at first glance. But they’re entering an already crowded market of technology that doesn’t appear to be picking up steam. (At $99, the earliest one can expect to use Athena is Fall 2016.)
Similar to Athena, Revolar’s $99 button takes one tap to alert friends to “minor” discomfort, and two taps for emergencies, whereupon a contact must call 911. Venture Beat reports the company raised $3 million and grew from three to 15 employees by January 2016.
The Perltect bracelet emits a strong odor, meant to “sexually discourage” attackers. The spray allegedly attaches to an intruder for months, and can link an attacker to a crime scene. The device is not yet available for purchase.
While investors are drawn to tidy and packageable technology, especially if units can retail above manufacturing cost (assault alert necklace Stiletto starts at $179), you can buy pepper spray on Amazon for as little as $1.99. Some canisters even come in pink for ladies (eye roll).
Apps like Circle of 6 offer a free but incomplete defense to the high price and privilege of today’s trendiest self-defense technology. But they’re often multi-use, with different levels of social media integration and functionality. Users of Circle of 6 elect six trusted friends they can call on to send pre-programmed messages, for example, “Call me with a pretend emergency so I can leave this party.”
Voice-activated apps may offer more peace of mind — and few to no clicks. Earlier in June, a mother used Siri to call an ambulance while she performed CPR on her toddler.
The pervasiveness of smartphones, and often their pre-loaded services, is one likely reason rape-prevention technology hasn’t found a foothold. The question is whether they will evolve for optimal assault prevention (without all the clicks and taps) or whether they simply provide a false sense of security. I’m only a text or phone call away from help.
Historically, devices have been even more problematic. Though shrouded in myth, the chastity belt was ostensibly implemented to prevent violence against women but also policed suspected infidelity. Around the turn of the 20th century, the belt was used by medical professionals to prevent masturbation by both men and women. Fast-forward to 1994 and chastity belt patents don’t look much different. And the 2013 outcry over “anti-rape” underwear buried yet another attempt at the lock-out fix.
There is, of course, the old fashioned rape whistle, though it’s difficult to pinpoint when they were first used (they are just normal whistles, after all), but it may be earlier than you imagine.
Both spray and whistles have something in common: Though both low-tech, comparatively outdated solutions, they require action via a single function. Their simplicity is user friendly.
But the tech is base camp one.
Technology does not solve the institutional crisis of victim blaming. The act of putting assault prevention tools in the hands of women is not in itself a problem if we are doing enough to prevent and inform those who might assault in the first place, and implement policy that doesn’t adversely put the burden of proof on the victim. According to research, 80 percent of sexual assault prevention tips focus on what women can do to curb the crime (“don’t walk at night,” “wear modest clothes,” and other maddening versions of gender policing).
It’s part of the reason why successful campaigns like It’s On Us and education programs need to be ramped up. Bystander responsibility, responsible definitions of consent, and policies that support rather than blame women are all paramount.
Meanwhile, I’ve still got my pink pepper spray.
