The Pelicot Case Asks: Do We Really Know the Men Around Us?

For 50 years, Gisèle Pelicot believed she was married to a loving, attentive husband. The kind of man who'd bring her coffee in bed, plan romantic getaways, and build a life of apparent domestic bliss in rural France. Then police showed her photographs of herself being raped by strangers while unconscious—orchestrated by that same "wonderful" husband.

Her new memoir, A Hymn to Life, isn't just a survivor's account. It's a devastating examination of how we construct ideas about "good men" and "bad victims"—and why both concepts might be more dangerous than we realize.

The Banality of Monsters

Dominique Pelicot wasn't a Hollywood villain. He was a 73-year-old grandfather, a man who'd been married for nearly five decades, father to three children. Yet police found over 20,000 images and videos on his devices documenting years of orchestrated sexual assault.

The 51 men who joined him weren't outcasts or obvious predators either. They were firefighters, truck drivers, journalists, pharmacists—men from across the social spectrum who met in an online chat room called "Without Her Knowledge" and drove to the Pelicot home to rape an unconscious woman.

This ordinariness is perhaps the most unsettling aspect of the case. As clinical psychologist Veronique Valliere notes in her research on sexual offenders: they're "more like us than not like us." The comfortable distance we maintain by imagining predators as obviously monstrous collapses when faced with the reality that they're often the men we know, trust, and love.

The Technology of Harm

What makes the Pelicot case particularly relevant in 2024 is how technology enabled and amplified the abuse. The case began when a security guard caught Dominique taking upskirt photos at a supermarket—a crime that wasn't even illegal in France until 2018.

Today, similar communities thrive online. A recent Telegram channel devoted to drugging and assaulting women had over 70,000 members. Meta's new smart glasses make non-consensual filming easier than ever. AI platforms generate sexualized images of women and children with disturbing ease.

The internet hasn't just connected predators—it's normalized behaviors that were once unthinkable. As tech writer Paul Ford observed, generative AI is "totally shameless," reflecting the mindset of its creators who "insist we remake civilization around them" without considering the consequences.

The Impossible Standards for Victims

Perhaps most revealing is how society responded to the Pelicot women's reactions. Gisèle was criticized by defense lawyers for being "too calm" during the trial. Her daughter Caroline, who destroyed her father's belongings in rage upon learning of his crimes, was asked by the judge to behave "more properly."

Philosopher Manon Garcia, who wrote about the trial, captured this perfectly: "Whatever you do, you will always be someone's bad victim."

This impossible standard extends beyond the courtroom. Artist Chloe Wise recently noted the gendered response to disturbing news: women "can't sleep" and are "forever scarred" by revelations like the Epstein files, while "every man is like: 'Oh yeah, it seems bad, I haven't really looked into it.'"

The Generational Divide

The contrast between Gisèle's response and her daughter's reveals a broader cultural shift. Gisèle, despite everything, still speaks of love as an antidote to misery and maintains some affection for her husband. Caroline has completely severed ties, unable to reconcile any positive memories with the reality of abuse.

This generational divide reflects changing expectations about what women should tolerate in relationships. Younger women increasingly refuse to accept unsafe or unequal treatment as the price of being loved—a shift that #MeToo helped accelerate but didn't create.

Garcia poses the question directly: "Can we live with men? And if so, at what cost?" It's a question that would have seemed unthinkable to previous generations but feels urgent to many today.

The Rewards for Shamelessness

What's particularly disturbing about the current moment is how shamelessness seems increasingly rewarded. The defendants in the Pelicot case weren't contrite—they were "simmering with rage" at Gisèle, angry at being held accountable rather than ashamed of their actions.

This mirrors broader cultural trends where powerful men face few consequences for exploitation and abuse. The message sent is clear: there are more rewards these days for monsters than for the people who try to stop them.