McGregor verdict should be the opening lines in consent conversation
The verdict in Nikita Hand's successful case against Conor McGregor has the potential to be a watershed moment for how we view consent and what constitutes sexual assault.

Several days have passed since an Irish jury found in favour of Nikita Hand in her civil case against Conor McGregor, and yet we are still only beginning the important task of processing it as a society - it presents us with a unique opportunity to have a conversation about sex, power and consent that is long overdue.
The jury’s opinion was that, on the preponderance of the evidence, McGregor had assaulted her - in evidence, they heard of the graphic sexual nature of that assault and the injuries caused to Miss Hand, who described the incident as rape.
They also heard a whole lot of things besides, and viewed CCTV footage of Hand in the hotel that was intended to cast doubt on her testimony; instead, it opened up an aspect of such cases that was previously rarely discussed in any great detail.
Namely, how a person reacts to such an incident, rather than how they should react.
Many of us in the media have been aware of much of the evidence presented in the case since December 2018 - a source I spoke to at the time told me about the severity of Miss Hand’s injuries and the tampon that had to be removed from her vagina using forceps.
Another source within the justice system expressed disbelief to me that Ireland’s Director Of Public Prosecutions (DPP) decided against pressing criminal charges, especially given the weight of the medical evidence.
That source suggested that there was one reason and one reason alone that the DPP did not charge McGregor with rape or sexual assault - “she (Hand) wouldn’t make a good witness on the stand.”
This, of course, will come as no surprise to those who work with the victims and survivors of sexual violence; they are often savagely cross-examined by defence counsel, their entire histories, sexual and otherwise, dragged out and hung up like dirty laundry on a courtroom line for all the world to see.
At the heart of every complaint of sexual assault that comes before the courts are two things - the trauma of what has happened, and the fear of not being believed. Indeed, abusers often tell their victims that no-one will believe them, so they’d be better off saying nothing.
It’s almost as if every victim that takes the stand has to be absolutely perfect in every way - no history of promiscuity, never once told a lie, was dressed modestly and behaved entirely soberly and reasonably throughout the ordeal.
They should also resist loudly, fight back and immediately report what happened to them to the first person they see before putting on the mantle of shame that is every victim’s to wear, forever.
Hand’s case shows that there are no perfect victims, nor does there need to be.
Whereas a criminal case would have granted anonymity to Hand for the rest of her life if she chose, civil cases offer no such protection; the moment the suit was filed, her name was out there.
She knew what would happen when the case went to court - the world would hear of drinking, drug-taking, flirtatious behaviour, getting picked up in a car by a millionaire and taken to a penthouse suite in a hotel.
She knew that the gaps in her memory would be pointed out as convenient blackouts, and that her behaviour on CCTV would be scrutinised as evidence that, far from displaying the trauma of a victim of a violent sexual assault, she was actually enjoying herself in the aftermath.
What Hand’s evidence illustrated was patterns of behaviour long known to those who have dealt with victims of violence (and not just sexual violence) - people respond very differently to how one might expect.
Those of us who write about boxing and martial arts and who have an interest in self-defence often talk about the “fight or flight” response, but by far the most common response when the uninitiated are exposed to violence is another “f” - “freeze”.
Hand said at one point in her evidence that McGregor had been choking her; at that moment she thought about her daughter and how she was going to survive the situation, and she decided to let whatever was going to happen, happen.
Many will hear that and think, “I would never give up, I would never let that happen to me”, and the best of luck to them - but when a primal instinct for survival takes over in a moment, we tend not to question it.
That Hand did not flee the scene immediately afterwards is also something that many have a hard time believing, but it’s also not uncommon; victims often try to behave as normally as possible in the aftermath of such an incident, as if it hadn’t happened at all, and the peck of affection for McGregor in the elevator could be described as an example of what has been described as “Stockholm syndrome”.
All of this is before we get to the copious amount of drink and drugs that both parties admitted ingesting on the day in question.
That Hand still went ahead and took the case is a monument to her courage, and essentially the jury was faced with one question - did she consent to what happened in that room with McGregor?
Their answer was no, she did not, and thus it constituted assault.
Much has been done in recent years to put the subject of consent front row centre when we talk about sex; in parallel, a firehose of pornography is fed into the phones of young men who are led to believe that things like slapping, biting and choking are all par for the course when it comes to sex.
That, of course, is fine when it comes to consenting adults if that is what they wish to do - but the moment one party no longer consents, that it where the line is drawn.
This is the part that often proves most contentious - the fact that everyone retains the right to consent to what happens with their body at every moment. There is no right to the body of another person for sexual pleasure or gratification, nor is there a green light to do whatever one pleases just because their partner consented to other things.
On Sunday evening I spoke to Seán Sheehan on the Severe MMA podcast and tried to explain some of the mechanics behind complex cases like this, and how two people can consent to something sexually only for one to change their mind - consent has to be freely and consciously given, and it can also be freely and consciously withdrawn at any time.
The medical and physical evidence aside (including Hand’s later diagnosis of PTSD), the only two people who know what happened in that room are Nikita Hand and Conor McGregor.
When they could not agree as to what the details were, Hand exercised her right to take her case to the courts and have a jury of their peers make the decision for them, and they found in her favour.
There is no doubt that McGregor believes that what happened in that room was consensual, and that Hand is only after his money, and that is his right - but it’s not a good look. The tone of his social media posts since the verdict was delivered on Friday has been everything other than repentant, and he has said that he will exercise his right to appeal.
That said, his post-trial behaviour stands in stark contrast to that of NBA player Kobe Bryant, who was accused of rape by a hotel employee in 2003.
The case was settled out of court, but Bryant subsequently made a statement - against the advice of his lawyers - that wha the thought was a consensual sexual encounter was not, in fact, consensual, and he apologised to the victim for it.
In an age where non-disclosure agreements are regularly attached to out-of-court settlements are de rigeur, it remains one of the few cases where a powerful person has accepted responsibility for their actions.
The appeal will happen, as will a hearing regarding costs, and no doubt McGregor will have more to say on Instagram and Twitter; given that the United States of America has just elected Donald Trump, a man who lost a similar case in a New York court and a good friend of UFC president Dana White (who himself was captured on video assaulting his wife at a party), it is unlikely that the verdict will have a detrimental effect on what is left of what was a once-great fighting career.
During his meteoric rise McGregor built his brand on his wit, particularly at UFC press conferences - but what will he do now, when prospective opponents, journalists and fans alike can effectively call him a rapist based on the court’s decision?
Stories like his seldom have a happy ending, but given what he has been found to have done by a jury, he won’t get too much sympathy for whatever his future holds.
Cases like these seldom have a real winner, because even the victors pay an enormous price for justice.
But perhaps the positives to come it are that Nikita Hand has shown that one doesn’t have to be a perfect victim to be believed by a jury of one’s peers, and that we might just be ready for that long, long-overdue conversation about sex, power and consent.
Hi Philip, I’ve been a fan and an avid follower of yours since 2016. To me you are Ireland’s greatest living storyteller and the only journalist worth paying attention to.
That being said I have to make an observation: why is it that you never ever seriously criticise Conor McGregor? I have searched through your tweets on McGregor, I have read every article you have written about him, and listened to every podcast where you have spoken about him and what struck me after all of that was that you have never condemned his conduct. To use a fighting term you really pull your punches when it comes to Conor McGregor.
You’ve only gone as far as question his heart when he pulled out of fights, whenever he is was in serious trouble out of the ring you pointedly dodge any serious comment of his behaviour by focusing on the fallout instead. In this latest case you discuss the idea of “consent” rather than outwardly condemn McGregor.
Why is that? Are you worried about crossing him? Or is it because you don’t want the Irish MMA community to turn their back on you for having a go at their greatest competitor? Why won’t you condemn McGregor as strongly as you condemned, just for one random example, the head of the Irish in Sweden society a few months ago?