Legislation around public sexual harassment is changing ,it’s time for the culture to change too - by Jess Davies

I rolled over and reached for my phone, eyes still half shut with sleep gunk, the glare from my iPhone
my own personal sunrise. As part of my morning scroll, I thumbed through Instagram and checked
my notifications. A comment sat waiting for my attention- an anonymous account calling me a
derogatory, misogynistic slur. Rise and shine to you too, sir.

His words repeated in my head throughout the day: stirring my coffee, cutting up potatoes, loading
the washing machine. He had finished his offensive comment with several laughing emojis, but I
failed to see the funny side. Instead, I felt confused. Annoyed. Ashamed, even. Why did he say that
to me?

A little while later, my phone pinged with a message in one of my girls’ WhatsApp groups. A friend
shared how she had been out on a walk with her boyfriend when a group of young men pulled up
alongside them in a car and shouted, “You couldn’t pay me to sleep with her, mate!” before driving
off.

Drive-by sexual harassment. While she was with another man.
Nowhere is safe, it seems. No one can protect us.

The anger I’d been trying to control since my rudely interrupted morning scroll rose up again. When
did this all become okay?

On April 1st, after tireless campaigning by Our Streets Now alongside Plan UK and other
organisations, public sexual harassment (PSH) officially became a standalone crime in England and
Wales. It is an important and vital step in combating the casual misogyny women and girls face
online and offline every day- and yet one that feels decades too late.

Because these harmful, sexist attitudes are already embedded into everyday life. They are brushed
off as “banter”, used as bragging rights between mates or performed as a display of entitlement over
women’s bodies and boundaries.

While anyone can experience public sexual harassment, research shows that victims are
overwhelmingly women and girls, and people of marginalised genders. One in three girls experience
PSH for the first time before the age of thirteen, according to Girlguiding UK. Thirteen. Before most
girls have even started secondary school, they have already learned that their bodies are public
property. They have already began to normalise this harm.

The normalisation of this harm does not go unnoticed.

As a facilitator at Our Streets Now, I often have difficult conversations with teenage girls in
workshops who defeatedly refer to public sexual harassment as “just what happens” to girls like
them. That quiet acceptance is one of the most worrying things to witness, but one I’m all too
familiar with myself.

In recent months, I’ve noticed another disturbing pattern emerging. Teenage girls are starting to
internalise the misogyny they see online and offline, leading to more victim-blaming narratives in
conversations about PSH: some girls lie, some girls lead boys on, some girls love it.

Much of the conversation around toxic masculinity and the manosphere rightly focuses on how boys
are being radicalised online. But we often forget that girls are consuming this content too. They hear
these attitudes repeated in classrooms, on social media, in group chats and in everyday
conversations. And when misogyny is repeated often enough, it starts to sound like truth.

This is why we cannot legislate our way out of an epidemic of misogyny.

The law has changed, now culture must change too.

The criminalisation of public sexual harassment is a huge milestone and a hard-won victory, but it is
not a silver bullet. Laws set boundaries, but people set culture. And culture only shifts when
individuals decide that harmful behaviour is no longer acceptable.

We need to get comfortable calling out public sexual harassment.

If you see a misogynistic comment online- like the one I received- report it.
If your friends shout at a woman from a car, tell them it’s not funny.
If someone dismisses harassment as “banter”, challenge them.

Silence is what allows this behaviour to thrive, it’s how it survives.

From casual catcalling in the street to rating someone’s appearance in comment sections, public
sexual harassment is often overlooked and downplayed. But its impact is long-lasting. These
moments don’t just disappear, they linger. They shape how women and girls get to move through
the world, how safe they feel and ultimately, how they see themselves.

I have experienced hundreds of examples of public sexual harassment over the years, the earliest
being when I was just eight years old.

I can still vividly picture so many of them: sexual comments about my body at school swimming
lessons, the stranger who cycled past me on holiday and slapped my bum, the group of men in a
smoking area who heckled me about my boobs as I walked by. Then there’s the online world- sexual
comments under my posts, unsolicited images in my DMs, strangers rating my body on Reddit
forums.

Each one unwanted. Each one crossing a boundary. Each one leaving its mark.

We cannot keep brushing off public sexual harassment as “just something that happens”. We cannot
keep dismissing sexist comments as “banter”. Because when we normalise harassment, we
normalise harm.

Education is key. Young people need the tools to recognise public sexual harassment, understand
why it happens, and unpack the damage it causes- both to others and to themselves. They need the
confidence to challenge it, report it and refuse to accept it as normal. At Our Streets Now, our
workshops meet young people where they are and give them a safe space to ask questions, be
curious and listen to others.

The law is finally catching up, now society needs to catch up too.

#CultureMustChange