This blog brings together cross-contextual insights and practitioner reflections on consent, intoxication and education. It is co-written by our first guest blogger, Giselle Woodley, a researcher and sexologist in Australia, and Emily Setty, with contributions from Jonny Hunt.
To cite this piece, please use: Woodley, G., Setty, E. & Hunt, J. (2025). Sex, consent and intoxication: Navigating the grey areas with kindness and care. Reimagining RSE. Available at: https://re-imagining-rse.org/blog/sex-consent-and-intoxication-navigating-the-grey-areas-with-kindness-and-care/
Why this conversation matters
Consent has become a central focus in RSE in both Australia and England, shaping much of the classroom messaging around sex and relationships. Yet when it comes to sex under the influence of drugs or alcohol, young people encounter significant gaps between these messages and the realities they face. This blog draws on research from both countries to explore those tensions and propose an alternative pedagogical approach grounded in safe uncertainty that embraces complexity, nurtures ethical reflection and supports young people to navigate ‘grey zones’ with care.
In Australia, the introduction of mandatory consent education has led some teens to interpret consent narrowly as obtaining explicit permission for sex, with a few even imagining the use of ‘consent forms’ or contracts, and the New South Wales police suggesting the creation of an app. In England, schools are similarly required to teach consent under the statutory Relationships and Sex Education (RSE) curriculum (2019), with a strong focus on legal definitions and affirmative consent models. The updated RSE curriculum, released in summer 2025, emphasises understanding the law on consent, recognising and communicating consent, and knowing when it can be withdrawn. While the guidance does not explicitly address alcohol or drugs, the issue of capacity is implicitly raised through its legal framing.
Ultimately, consent is complex. Far from the straightforward messaging of ‘no means no’ or ‘yes means yes’, consent in sexual encounters involves navigating ambiguity, emotion, social context and interpersonal dynamics. The 2025 updated RSE guidance in England recognises this to some degree, encouraging education on the ethics of sexual interactions, not just the legal definitions. Yet in practice, messages in schools often default to a rule-based framing, especially when it comes to sex involving drugs or alcohol.
When discussing consent in Australian classrooms for instance, several teens recalled being told that intoxication automatically negates consent, framing any sex under the influence as rape:
“With consent, we learnt you cannot physically give consent if you’re under the influence of drugs or alcohol, because then that’s classified as rape.” – Ethan, 14
“Make sure that it’s yes on both behalves and if she’s even or he’s even slightly intoxicated it can be seen as rape.” – Miles, 16
English teens express similar understandings. Boys participating in research described consent as a matter of legal permission, often interpreted through ‘rules’ that specify when a person is considered incapable of consenting due to intoxication. This led to a belief that any sex involving an intoxicated partner was potentially criminal and that they could be accused of rape even if the interaction felt mutual at the time.
While these cautionary messages may be well-intentioned, they are also oversimplified and, at times, can be misleading. The legal standards surrounding intoxication and capacity to consent are far more nuanced and inconsistently applied. Given how common sex under the influence is among adults and young people alike, these grey areas warrant more honest and critical exploration in educational settings.
This is where safe uncertainty offers an alternative pedagogical framework. Originating in systemic family therapy, safe uncertainty helps practitioners and educators hold space for ambiguity while supporting young people to navigate it safely. It contrasts with ‘safe certainty’: a mode of teaching that relies on clear rules and top-down instruction, which, in the context of consent education, may create an illusion of clarity while leaving young people unprepared for the messiness of real-life encounters. In contrast, safe uncertainty accepts that legal guidance is not always enough to determine what is ethical, safe or respectful in any given situation.
From a safe uncertainty perspective, we recognise that intoxicated sex raises multiple uncertainties about agency, vulnerability, responsibility and harm. It invites young people to ask: What guidance does the law provide, and where does it fall short? What scenarios might not have a clear answer? What harms or risks can arise, and how can we manage them with care and integrity? It also encourages reflection on motivation and context: Why is alcohol or drug use common in sexual settings? What cultural scripts or pressures are at play? What does ethical negotiation look like in such contexts?
These questions create the opportunity for conversations about our values, shame, confidence and insecurities. Rather than providing blanket answers or rigid rules, safe uncertainty creates space for critical reflection, relational awareness and ethical responsiveness. It equips young people not just to follow the law, but to carefully consider what it means to care for themselves and others in the real-world situations they may encounter.
What the law says – and what it doesn’t
Despite the common message – repeated by young people – that sex under the influence of drugs or alcohol equals rape, the legal reality is far more complex and inconsistent. While well-meaning, this messaging risks oversimplifying the law and misleading young people about both their rights and responsibilities.
Research shows that drugs and alcohol can affect decision-making and risk perception, yet consensual sexual activity under the influence is common and may even be the aim when engaging in practices such as chemsex. The binary framing that intoxication automatically negates consent is out of step with legal definitions and how cases are handled in practice.
In Australia, legal definitions of both ‘consent’ and ‘intoxication’ vary by state. Intoxication is only likely to negate consent where the person is unconscious or incapacitated, typically framed as being unable or to make a free and informed choice. In some jurisdictions, consent hinges on the person’s ‘cognitive capacity to consent’. For example, in the ACT, the Crimes Act 1900 (s.67) stipulates circumstances where consent is not present: “where the person is incapable of agreeing to the act because of intoxication.” Yet what counts as ‘incapable’ or even ‘intoxicated’ is left undefined and open to interpretation, and its application is assessed on a case-by-case basis, arguably inconsistently.
Despite these legal nuances, many young people still receive simplified messages equating any intoxicated sex with criminality. These specifics – such as legal thresholds, case viability and evidentiary standards – are rarely explored in RSE. As sex education advocate and former public prosecutor Katrina Marson has observed, there is a growing gap between the law and how it is communicated to young people in schools: “Young people should not be left with the impression that sexual activity with any intoxicating substance on board is nonconsensual. While the simplicity of that proposition may be seductive, especially for a teacher trying to navigate an already nuanced landscape, that is not what the law says.”
While legal framings can be helpful for young people to understand the legalistic framings of consent, the simplistic nature of messaging such as ‘all sex under the influence = rape’ is inconsistent and not always applied. Marson says:
“The law examines whether a person’s capacity to consent was affected by intoxication, which will depend on each case. Young people are entitled to accurate information, even if it is more complex.”
In England, the Sexual Offences Act 2003 (s.74) states that consent requires both freedom and capacity to choose. Severe intoxication may undermine this capacity, but the legal bar is high. Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) guidance acknowledges that intoxication may undermine capacity to consent, but as in Australia, it rests upon assessments of capacity. The Court of Appeal has ruled that “drunken consent is still consent”, yet incapacity may be undermined prior to the complainant losing consciousness, raising questions as to the when intoxication reaches a level that is so high as invalidate consent. This creates significant legal ambiguity: it is difficult to prove incapacity, and even harder to prove that an accused knew or should have known about that incapacity.
For young people navigating social situations involving alcohol or drugs, these legal uncertainties are compounded by moral and emotional complexities. They may feel that something unethical or violating has occurred even when the legal threshold for assault isn’t met. Conversely, fear of legal repercussions may dominate over meaningful ethical reflection or relational responsibility. Katrina Marson continues:
“I fear that teaching young people about sex and consent in absolute terms which inaccurately invoke the criminal law will not give them skills to navigate the varying conditions and scenarios they may find themselves in. It’s a bit like rote learning instead of meaningful learning, and risks emphasising objective conditions as the sole determinant of consent, without giving sufficient weight to subjective factors”
The grey areas point to a critical pedagogical challenge: while legal frameworks set important parameters, they cannot determine what is respectful, ethical or caring in every situation. Educators need approaches, such as those offered by safe uncertainty, that move beyond binary thinking and instead equip young people to navigate real-life scenarios where rights, responsibility and relational ethics are in tension.
Young people’s realities: The missing context
Sex under the influence of alcohol or drugs is not uncommon, particularly in young people’s social settings or, indeed, between middle-aged married couples. Acknowledging this is not an endorsement; it’s a necessary step toward equipping young people with the tools to navigate complex and often messy realities. Simplistic, legalistic messaging does little to prepare them for these situations or help them think through the emotional, relational and ethical dimensions of consent when intoxication is involved.
In England, boys spoke about how intoxicated sex at parties is widely normalised. They described it as something many young people expect and, in some cases, actively seek out. Boys, in particular, were thought to attend parties with sex in mind, where alcohol functions as both social lubricant and signal of availability for young people who may feel anxious about flirting and intimacy. Yet these same boys also viewed such situations as fraught. They described peers who pursued sex in these settings as “reckless” or “irresponsible”, largely because of the legal and ethical uncertainty surrounding intoxicated consent. Their concern wasn’t only about bad intentions. It was also about confusion, misjudgement and fear of what might happen if things went wrong. For many, it was easier to imagine the ‘dangerous boy’ who didn’t care, but harder, and more troubling, to confront the ambiguities that might apply to any boy, including themselves.
Similar concerns emerged in Australian data. There, many teens reported avoiding sex at parties altogether due to fears of being implicated in sexual assault. For Warren (17) and his friends, the risk was not about relational ethics but about staying out of trouble:
“I personally, when they [girls] start drinking, I just stay away from it, I don’t want to ‘catch a case’. I just don’t – if the girl’s drinking, I’m staying away from her, I don’t want to ‘catch a case[1]’”.
This risk-averse posture reflects not only the realities of affirmative consent law but also the way school-based messaging tends to frame sex and intoxication primarily in legal terms. As Lauren (14) put it:
“It was more that if someone is drunk and they say yes, that’s still not consent because they’re under the influence of alcohol.”
While such caution may seem like a positive outcome, it often results in avoidance rather than deeper understanding. Fear of legal repercussion replaces meaningful engagement with consent, care and communication. The consequence is not necessarily greater safety. Instead, it’s greater silence.
Importantly, these conversations are complicated by the legal status of alcohol and drug use among under-18s. Yet young people are still exposed to these substances, and some will engage in sexual activity under their influence. Avoiding the topic does not prevent these encounters, it only increases the likelihood that they will be navigated without adequate guidance or reflection.
What’s needed instead is a space to explore difficult questions:
- What norms shape expectations around drinking and sex?
- Why might people feel the need to drink when hoping to have sex?
- How do young people interpret rights and responsibilities in intoxicated contexts?
- How do alcohol and drugs affect communication, confidence, vulnerability and empathy?
Approaches rooted in safe uncertainty don’t shy away from these complexities. They support young people to build the skills and sensibilities needed to make informed, ethical decisions, even when there are no easy answers.
The risks of oversimplification
Consent education often relies on legalistic definitions and binary messaging that fail to reflect the complex realities young people navigate. While intended to protect, such messaging can create unintended harms: inducing shame and fear rather than ethical reflection, obscuring the emotional and relational nuances of sexual negotiation, and ultimately failing to equip young people for the situations they are actually in, or may soon face.
One striking example comes from a police officer in Western Australia, who told researchers that correcting misinformation from schools is a routine part of her job. She described having to tell would-be victim-survivors –on a weekly basis – that sex under the influence of drugs or alcohol does not necessarily meet the legal threshold for sexual assault. Such honesty from frontline professionals is rare, particularly given how often ‘scare tactics’ are employed in attempts to deter harmful behaviour. Her reflections highlight the tension between legal reality and educational messaging and the risk of leaving young people confused, disillusioned or distrusting of both systems.
The well-known (and for some, overused) Tea and Consent video reproduced by Thames Valley Police attempts to clarify consent using a metaphor: you wouldn’t force someone to drink tea if they’re unconscious, so why would you initiate sex in the same state? While powerful in its simplicity, the video stops short of addressing what happens when people are not unconscious, but intoxicated, uncertain, ambivalent or under social pressure. As one boy in English research reflected:
“It makes consent look simple, when in reality, it is anything but simple.”
These examples underscore why blanket messaging can do more harm than good. They can lead to overconfidence in legal ‘rules’, disengagement from deeper discussion or worse, leave young people feeling unequipped to judge what is ethical in ambiguous situations.
It is also important to consider that even if a situation does not meet the legal threshold for ‘sexual assault’, there may still have been an ethical violation of consent -or the incident may in fact have been a sexual assault that simply could not be legally proven. Most offences are not reported to police or authorities, and attrition rates across the justice process are high. Victim-survivors often do not receive the support they need, and reporting can trigger re-traumatisation. Even when cases reach court, convictions are rare. In some instances, legal action may not be possible due to restrictive definitions of sexual assault involving drugs or alcohol.
For some, the term ‘sexual assault’ or ‘rape’ may not feel like an accurate or comfortable fit. The term consent violation is used within kink and poly communities, can offer language for naming harm when boundaries have been crossed. Some violations may be unintentional, and not all involve coercion, threat or force, but still result in emotional or relational harm. Conversations about ethical considerations must therefore be central to all sexual encounters, including those involving drugs and alcohol, given the potential impacts on sexual negotiation, affecting decision-making, response time and judgement.
Not all intoxicated sex is assault, but nor is it always safe or consensual. Some people may find alcohol reduces inhibitions in ways that feel freeing; others may experience regret, coercion or harm even if the law would not define the encounter as criminal.
Effective consent education must acknowledge this complexity. It should move beyond reductive slogans and instead create space to explore how power, agency, peer dynamics and emotion shape sexual encounters. This doesn’t mean lowering standards. It means raising the bar: toward relational ethics, shared responsibility and practical tools for navigating uncertainty with care.
Safe Uncertainty in practice
Safe uncertainty is not about abandoning clarity or minimising harm. It’s about holding space for complexity while staying committed to care, rights and relational responsibility. It recognises that real-life situations – especially those involving intoxication, intimacy and emotion – rarely fit neatly into legal or moral binaries. Rather than offering a checklist of rules, safe uncertainty helps young people develop the tools to navigate ethically when there are no easy answers.
At its core, safe uncertainty invites critical reflection. It encourages young people to consider:
- How can I recognise vulnerability, both in myself and in others?
- What would mutual, communicative consent look like in this situation, not just in theory?
- Might the most respectful response be caution, care or choosing not to proceed?
These questions prompt more than just behavioural compliance. They help develop a mindset oriented toward empathy, dialogue and accountability. Safe uncertainty shifts the focus from individual rule-following to relational ethics: not just “what do I need to do so I don’t get into trouble?” or “Am I allowed to do this?” but “Is this good for both of us?” and “How will we feel afterwards?”
In practice, this might mean slowing down in moments of ambiguity. It might mean checking in with a partner more intentionally or recognising when alcohol is impairing communication and stepping back. It might also mean feeling uncertain and learning how to sit with that uncertainty, rather than rushing to resolve it through defensiveness or denial.
Ultimately, safe uncertainty is not about teaching young people to avoid risk altogether. It’s about helping them engage with risk consciously, relationally and with care for themselves and for others.
Moving forward: Education that supports, not shames
If Relationships and Sex Education is to be meaningful and effective, it must move beyond fear-based messaging and rigid rules. We need an approach that meets young people where they are and engages honestly with their realities, emotions and social contexts. This means supporting them to develop not just knowledge of the law, but the capacity for moral reasoning, relational awareness and ethical negotiation.
Rather than promoting shame or avoidance, a safe uncertainty approach aims to build confidence, empathy and integrity. It encourages dialogue: not just about what is permitted, but about what is respectful, caring and mutual. It, in turn, gives young people a foundation for navigating the grey areas of sexual experience with clarity and compassion, even when certainty is out of reach.
This is not about lowering standards. It’s about raising the bar. Raising the bar for how we talk about consent. For how we teach communication and boundary-setting. For how we nurture a sense of mutual responsibility and care within intimate encounters. As Katrina Marson says, “I want young people to learn how to care and enquire about the subjective interests of the person in front of them, whether intoxicated or stone cold sober.”
By promoting relational ethics – not just individual rule-following – we can help young people approach sex and relationships in ways that centre respect, dignity and emotional safety. That means asking not only whether an act is legal, but whether it is kind, consensual and attuned to the needs of everyone involved. Ethical sex education doesn’t shy away from discomfort. It leans into it with support, curiosity and care.
Reflections and call to action
As we reflect on the complexities of consent, intoxication and education, it’s worth asking: What messages did you receive about sex and alcohol growing up? Did they help you feel informed, safe and confident, or fearful, confused and ashamed? If you need alcohol to have sex, what does this tell us about our attitudes and feelings towards sex?
Young people deserve more than simplified warnings and rigid rules. They need open, honest conversations that speak to their lived realities and offer tools to navigate uncertainty with care. Whether you’re an educator, a parent or a young person, there are ways to facilitate these kinds of conversations.
For educators, this means:
- Going beyond ‘don’t do it’ messaging and encouraging students to explore how power, communication and context shape consent, especially when intoxication is involved.
- Using anonymised or composite real-life scenarios to open up deeper reflection; not just about what’s legal, but what’s respectful, mutual and emotionally safe.
- Rather than avoiding ambiguity, framing uncertainty as a valuable learning space, where students are supported to wrestle with moral and emotional complexity.
- Challenging the social norms and scripts that often influence behaviour.
- Giving students a vocabulary for care: how to check in with someone, how to set boundaries and how to recognise when someone may not be in a position to consent.
Parents, too, can play a powerful role by creating openness and trust:
- Rather than relying on fear-based lectures, ask thoughtful, non-judgmental questions – like “What do you and your friends think about sex and drinking?” – to open the door to richer conversations.
- Encourage care taking behaviours around friends who have been drinking, and shared responsibility to ensure friends and partners are safe.
- Acknowledge that young people may face confusion or pressure to show that you are a safe person to talk to.
- Model critical thinking, including through discussing what media, school or peers say about consent and intoxication, to help develop a shared language for navigating these issues.
- While it’s important to communicate your values around care and respect, doing so in a way that respects your child’s growing autonomy helps build mutual trust.
For young people themselves:
- It’s important to know that you’re allowed to ask questions, even the ones that don’t have easy answers.
- Good decisions often come from thinking things through, not just following rules.
- Trusting your instincts, taking a breath, and checking in with yourself or your partner are all valid ways to respond when something feels unclear.
- Remember that consent isn’t a one-off agreement, it’s an ongoing conversation. It’s okay to say no, and it’s okay to change your mind. You never owe anyone sex because you’re drunk, flirting or have already said yes.
- Consent is about ensuring that everyone involved feels clear, safe and okay, not just in the moment, but afterwards too.
- If something has happened that you’re unsure or worried about, you don’t have to carry that alone. Speaking to someone you trust can help. You’re not alone.
If we’re serious about supporting young people to navigate sex, relationships and risk, we need to move away from shame and certainty and towards connection, curiosity and care. Let’s keep the conversation going.
Links to further resources
https://www.teachusconsent.com/podcasts/teach-us-how-alcohol-complicates-consent
https://www.consent.gov.au/conversation-guides
https://www.consentlabs.org.au
https://www.bishuk.com/can-we-talk-about-consent/
https://www.outspokeneducation.com/consent-and-pleasure
https://fumble.org.uk/enthusiastic-consent/
https://splitbanana.co.uk/resources-for-young-people/relationships-consent
https://thepincuscenter.com/consent-violation/
*Names have been changed to protect young people’s identities.
[1] ‘Catch a case’ is a slang expression, commonly used in youth and hip-hop vernacular, meaning to be charged with or implicated in a criminal offence, often in this context, sexual assault or harassment.