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Shibari Concept — a hushed Japanese room with a red rope knot inside a circle, a blossoming cherry branch, a fan and coiled ropes

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Japanese room with a fan and tea cup.

Konsent, when experience takes on an unexpected meaning

Respect for autonomy means allowing both parties for their feelings to exist without automatically giving rise to obligations, demands, or a new relationship.

 · 13 min read

Even a thor­ough pri­or agree­ment can­not de­ter­mine in ad­vance every­thing peo­ple will ex­pe­ri­ence dur­ing a ses­sion. For ex­am­ple, they may agree that the ex­pe­ri­ence will not be erot­ic, sex­u­al, ro­man­tic, or re­la­tion­al, and such an agree­ment can de­fine the na­ture of touch, com­mu­ni­ca­tion, and joint ac­tions. How­ev­er, it can­not guar­an­tee that arousal, an erot­ic as­so­ci­a­tion, or an­oth­er un­in­tend­ed mean­ing will not arise in the body or mind of ei­ther par­tic­i­pant. An agree­ment can­not guar­an­tee what sig­nif­i­cance the ses­sion will grad­u­al­ly take on in the lived ex­pe­ri­ence of each in­di­vid­ual.

Dur­ing a ses­sion, some­one might be sur­prised by phys­i­cal arousal, an erot­ic as­so­ci­a­tion, an in­tense feel­ing of vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty, close­ness, safe­ty, sur­ren­der, trust, or emo­tion­al con­nec­tion. De­spite ex­pec­ta­tions, the ex­pe­ri­ence may take on a ro­man­tic or re­la­tion­al sig­nif­i­cance. Con­verse­ly, an­oth­er per­son might dis­cov­er that a cer­tain kind of in­ti­ma­cy ac­tu­al­ly feels too per­son­al to them, or that they do not wish to share it with this spe­cif­ic per­son.

Personal Versus Shared Meaning

Such shifts do not have to be mu­tu­al. One and the same ses­sion can mean some­thing very dif­fer­ent to two peo­ple—for one, it re­mains a tech­ni­cal, aes­thet­ic, phys­i­cal, or friend­ly ex­pe­ri­ence, while for the oth­er, it be­gins to rep­re­sent ex­tra­or­di­nary in­ti­ma­cy, erot­ic con­nec­tion, or a sense of re­la­tion­al close­ness.

There­fore, the in­ten­si­ty of a shared ex­pe­ri­ence does not, in it­self, in­di­cate whether both peo­ple in­ter­pret it the same way. Peo­ple some­times tend to con­fuse a joint­ly ex­pe­ri­enced in­ten­si­ty with a joint­ly shared mean­ing—the fact that one per­son feels sig­nif­i­cant­ly clos­er to the oth­er does not mean the re­la­tion­ship has changed in the same way for the sec­ond per­son. A feel­ing of close­ness is not proof of mu­tu­al close­ness, an ex­pe­ri­enced ro­man­tic mean­ing is not proof of a ro­man­tic re­la­tion­ship, and in­ten­sive care or at­ten­tion are not, by them­selves, a promise of ex­clu­siv­i­ty or the con­tin­u­a­tion of the re­la­tion­ship out­side the ses­sion.

Experience Versus Action

The mere emer­gence of such an ex­pe­ri­ence is not a vi­o­la­tion of con­sent. A per­son does not have ab­solute con­trol over every bod­i­ly re­ac­tion, emo­tion, or the mean­ing a par­tic­u­lar ex­pe­ri­ence takes on for them. A spon­ta­neous re­ac­tion is not the same as a de­ci­sion, and an in­ter­nal ex­pe­ri­ence is not au­to­mat­i­cal­ly an ac­tion di­rect­ed at an­oth­er per­son.

It is there­fore im­por­tant to dis­tin­guish be­tween lev­els that may over­lap but are not iden­ti­cal: phys­i­cal arousal is not the same as erot­ic in­ter­est, erot­ic mean­ing is not the same as a wish to con­tin­ue sex­u­al­ly, a feel­ing of in­ti­ma­cy is not the same as ro­man­tic at­trac­tion, and ro­man­tic af­fec­tion is not the same as a de­sire to form a part­ner­ship.

A bod­i­ly re­ac­tion by it­self does not prove that a per­son want­ed the ex­pe­ri­ence, that they en­joyed it, that they are at­tract­ed to the oth­er per­son, or that they con­sent to erot­ic con­tin­u­a­tion. Sim­i­lar­ly, a feel­ing of trust or close­ness does not mean a per­son wants to car­ry that close­ness over into an­oth­er form of re­la­tion­ship.

The new mean­ing an ex­pe­ri­ence ac­quires for one per­son is there­fore pri­mar­i­ly in­for­ma­tion about their own pro­cess­ing. Only the way they be­gin to act upon this mean­ing to­ward an­oth­er per­son en­ters the realm of shared con­sent.

Both the Bound Person and the Person Leading the Session

The same prin­ci­ple ap­plies to both the bound per­son and the per­son ty­ing.

If an erot­ic, emo­tion­al, or re­la­tion­al mean­ing emerges for the bound per­son, an erot­ic or re­la­tion­al dy­nam­ic be­tween the two peo­ple does not au­to­mat­i­cal­ly arise from it. The bound per­son does not have to im­me­di­ate­ly com­mu­ni­cate every spon­ta­neous re­ac­tion. Their in­ter­nal pro­cess­ing re­mains part of their pri­va­cy.

A sig­nif­i­cant change oc­curs the mo­ment this ex­pe­ri­ence be­gins to project into joint ac­tions or ex­pec­ta­tions to­ward the oth­er per­son. For ex­am­ple, ex­pec­ta­tions of a dif­fer­ent kind of touch, greater in­ti­ma­cy, more fre­quent con­tact, ex­clu­siv­i­ty, or a cer­tain re­la­tion­al con­tin­u­a­tion may arise with­out any new agree­ment hav­ing been made.

Sim­i­lar­ly, a spon­ta­neous erot­ic, emo­tion­al, pro­tec­tive, or ro­man­tic re­ac­tion by the per­son lead­ing the ses­sion is not, in it­self, proof of role abuse. How­ev­er, the per­son lead­ing the ses­sion typ­i­cal­ly has a greater ca­pac­i­ty to in­flu­ence its course. They de­ter­mine the tem­po, the style of touch, the rope work, the du­ra­tion of in­di­vid­ual parts, and how they will re­spond to the bound per­son’s ex­pres­sions.

There­fore, they bear a greater re­spon­si­bil­i­ty to en­sure that their own new­ly arisen ex­pe­ri­ence does not be­gin al­ter­ing the form of joint ac­tion with­out a new agree­ment. If, for in­stance, they be­gin choos­ing more in­ti­mate touch­es, pro­long­ing cer­tain sit­u­a­tions, or gen­er­at­ing erot­ic ten­sion due to their own arousal—ten­sion that was not part of the orig­i­nal frame­work—it is no longer mere­ly an in­ter­nal re­ac­tion.

The de­ci­sive fac­tor is there­fore not only what a per­son feels, but how they han­dle their ex­pe­ri­ence.

Spontaneity Is Not an Alibi

This log­ic must not lead to a ref­er­ence to spon­tane­ity be­com­ing a uni­ver­sal ex­cuse. In­ter­nal ex­pe­ri­ence can­not be re­li­ably ver­i­fied from the out­side, and the mere as­ser­tion “I can’t help what I feel” there­fore says noth­ing yet about how a per­son is han­dling their ex­pe­ri­ence.

Even a gen­uine­ly un­ex­pect­ed erot­ic, emo­tion­al, or re­la­tion­al re­ac­tion can sub­se­quent­ly be used to pres­sure an­oth­er per­son. Like­wise, the lan­guage of spon­tane­ity can be used in­stru­men­tal­ly to ob­scure the tar­get­ed shift­ing of bound­aries.

There­fore, de­ter­min­ing whether a cer­tain feel­ing gen­uine­ly arose spon­ta­neous­ly is not al­ways the most im­por­tant thing. What fol­lows its emer­gence may be more sub­stan­tial. If a per­son ac­cepts that their ex­pe­ri­ence does not es­tab­lish a claim to change the shared dy­nam­ic, re­spects the orig­i­nal frame­work, and can ac­cept the pos­si­bil­i­ty that the oth­er per­son does not share its mean­ing, their re­ac­tion re­mains pri­mar­i­ly their own per­son­al ex­pe­ri­ence.

A dif­fer­ent sit­u­a­tion aris­es when an “un­ex­pect­ed” mean­ing re­peat­ed­ly be­comes a rea­son for propos­ing more in­ti­mate con­tact, shift­ing a pre­vi­ous­ly de­fined frame­work, or cre­at­ing pres­sure for the oth­er per­son to ac­cept the new in­ter­pre­ta­tion.

A sin­gle sit­u­a­tion may re­veal noth­ing about mo­ti­va­tion. How­ev­er, a re­cur­ring pat­tern can be more sig­nif­i­cant than a stat­ed in­ten­tion. If sup­pos­ed­ly spon­ta­neous shifts reg­u­lar­ly ap­pear pre­cise­ly in the di­rec­tion one per­son wants to steer the re­la­tion­ship or dy­nam­ic, it is not nec­es­sary to eval­u­ate every in­stance in iso­la­tion. The ques­tion is no longer just what a per­son claims they felt, but also whether their ac­tions re­peat­ed­ly cre­ate the same pres­sure on the oth­er per­son’s bound­aries.

More­over, ma­nip­u­la­tion does not have to take the form of an open de­mand. It can con­sist of re­peat­ed­ly cre­at­ing sit­u­a­tions where a new mean­ing is pre­sent­ed to the oth­er per­son as some­thing that “just hap­pened,” even though the re­sult is con­sis­tent­ly the same shift. Non-erot­ic ses­sions, for ex­am­ple, re­peat­ed­ly take on an erot­ic char­ac­ter, the agreed-upon lev­el of in­ti­ma­cy grad­u­al­ly ex­pands, or re­la­tion­al ten­sion re­peat­ed­ly ap­pears where one per­son de­sires greater in­ti­ma­cy. For­mal­ly, no di­rect de­mand may be ut­tered, and every sin­gle step can be de­scribed as spon­ta­neous.

At a cer­tain point, there­fore, it is no longer only a mat­ter of whether a spe­cif­ic feel­ing was un­planned. It is also im­por­tant whether a per­son rec­og­nized a re­cur­ring pat­tern and how they re­spond­ed to it. Arousal, af­fec­tion, or a de­sire for greater close­ness can be spon­ta­neous. But their spon­tane­ity nei­ther ex­plains nor jus­ti­fies re­peat­ed ac­tions that pre­dictably push the shared dy­nam­ic in the same di­rec­tion.

Re­spon­si­bil­i­ty does not be­gin with the emer­gence of a feel­ing or a bod­i­ly re­ac­tion. It be­gins where a per­son knows, or can know, how their pro­cess­ing in­flu­ences their ac­tions, yet al­lows the oth­er per­son to en­ter once again into a sit­u­a­tion where the orig­i­nal­ly agreed frame­work pre­dictably blurs.

When an Offer Does Not Carry Equal Weight for Both

When as­sess­ing a new erot­ic, emo­tion­al, or re­la­tion­al mean­ing, it is not enough to ob­serve sole­ly whether it was ex­pressed as an of­fer rather than a de­mand. It is also im­por­tant how easy it is for the oth­er per­son to ac­tu­al­ly refuse that of­fer.

The abil­i­ty to say no is not equal un­der all cir­cum­stances. Asym­me­try aris­es not only from roles dur­ing a spe­cif­ic ses­sion. It can also stem from ex­pe­ri­ence, rep­u­ta­tion, age, com­mu­ni­ty stand­ing, men­tor­ship, ac­cess to con­tacts, or the fact that one per­son can open or close cer­tain op­por­tu­ni­ties for an­oth­er. For­mal­ly, both may have the same right to refuse, while the prac­ti­cal con­se­quences of re­fusal are not the same for them.

Pre­cise­ly for this rea­son, the same state­ment can car­ry dif­fer­ent weight in dif­fer­ent re­la­tion­ships. The phrase “I’ve re­al­ized our ses­sions have start­ed to mean some­thing re­la­tion­al to me” can func­tion be­tween two equal­ly po­si­tioned peo­ple as an open shar­ing that can be an­swered with­out ma­jor con­se­quences if the oth­er per­son does not feel the same mean­ing. How­ev­er, if ut­tered by an ex­pe­ri­enced and re­spect­ed per­son to­ward a new­com­er—to whom they si­mul­ta­ne­ous­ly pro­vide ac­cess to ex­pe­ri­ences, con­tacts, or the com­mu­ni­ty—the ex­act same sen­tence can cre­ate pres­sure even with­out a sin­gle ex­plic­it de­mand.

The essence of asym­me­try is there­fore not that a per­son with greater in­flu­ence must not share their ex­pe­ri­ence. It means, how­ev­er, that they must ac­count for the gap be­tween their in­ten­tion and the im­pact of their words. What they per­ceive as a non-bind­ing of­fer of greater close­ness or erot­ic shar­ing may be ex­pe­ri­enced by the oth­er per­son as some­thing dif­fi­cult to refuse with­out risk­ing the loss of the re­la­tion­ship, fu­ture ses­sions, men­tor­ship, so­cial ac­cep­tance, or com­mu­ni­ty ac­cess.

The greater this dif­fer­ence, the greater the re­spon­si­bil­i­ty the per­son with more in­flu­ence has for cre­at­ing a space where re­fusal will not mean a sanc­tion or a change in treat­ment. It is not enough that “no can be ut­tered.” It is also im­por­tant whether it can be ut­tered with­out an un­rea­son­able cost.

Asym­me­try does not al­ter the va­lid­i­ty of per­son­al ex­pe­ri­ence. It does, how­ev­er, change the re­spon­si­bil­i­ty for how that ex­pe­ri­ence is car­ried into the shared space. The greater the dif­fer­ence in ex­pe­ri­ence or sta­tus, the greater the re­spon­si­bil­i­ty the per­son with more in­flu­ence bears for how they com­mu­ni­cate their new ex­pe­ri­ence. Not be­cause they are for­bid­den from shar­ing their feel­ings, but be­cause they must reck­on with the fact that their words may car­ry more weight for the oth­er per­son than they them­selves in­tend to give them. Cau­tion here does not mean sup­press­ing one’s own pro­cess­ing, but rec­og­niz­ing that the abil­i­ty to voice some­thing and the oth­er per­son’s abil­i­ty to freely refuse it are not sym­met­ri­cal un­der all cir­cum­stances.

A par­tic­u­lar ques­tion aris­es when an ex­pe­ri­ence ac­quires re­la­tion­al mean­ing for only one per­son, and this dis­crep­an­cy be­gins to in­flu­ence the rea­sons why peo­ple con­tin­ue in shared ty­ing. One may un­der­stand sub­se­quent ses­sions pri­mar­i­ly as phys­i­cal, cre­ative, or aes­thet­ic col­lab­o­ra­tion, while for the oth­er they be­come a sig­nif­i­cant source of close­ness, emo­tion­al bond­ing, or hope for a deep­er re­la­tion­ship.

The sheer di­ver­gence of these mean­ings does not au­to­mat­i­cal­ly mean that con­tin­u­a­tion is un­eth­i­cal. But it opens ques­tions that can no longer be re­solved sole­ly by whether both peo­ple con­sent to a spe­cif­ic ses­sion. It also de­pends on whether both suf­fi­cient­ly un­der­stand the re­la­tion­al frame­work they are con­tin­u­ing with­in, whether one per­son is not op­er­at­ing on a hope the oth­er know­ing­ly does not share, and whether some­one is be­gin­ning to prof­it from the emo­tion­al in­vest­ment or vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty of the oth­er.

This is es­pe­cial­ly im­por­tant when a per­son knows that, for the oth­er, shared ty­ing means sub­stan­tial­ly more than it does for them­selves. The ques­tion then is not only “do they con­sent to an­oth­er ses­sion?” but also “what do I know about the rea­sons why they are say­ing yes, and what am I gain­ing from their yes?”

Here, the ques­tion of con­sent meets the broad­er ethics of re­la­tion­al re­spon­si­bil­i­ty, asym­me­try, and in­stru­men­tal­iza­tion. One-sided re­la­tion­al mean­ing and the ethics of con­tin­u­ing in such a dy­nam­ic there­fore ex­tend be­yond the scope of this chap­ter and de­serve a ded­i­cat­ed space of their own.

When Silence Is Not Enough

It is not nec­es­sary to ver­bal­ize every spon­ta­neous re­ac­tion right away—the oblig­a­tion to share one’s in­ner world can­not be con­flat­ed with the oblig­a­tion to re­spect a shared agree­ment. Yet there are sit­u­a­tions where si­lence alone is no longer enough. The bound­ary does not lie sim­ply be­tween what a per­son speaks aloud and what they keep to them­selves. The more im­por­tant ques­tion is whether some­thing has changed that could af­fect the con­di­tions un­der which the oth­er per­son con­sents.

The core ques­tion is there­fore not: “Must I tell the oth­er per­son what I feel?” Rather: “Does the oth­er per­son need to know that some­thing has changed in or­der to tru­ly con­tin­ue de­cid­ing about their par­tic­i­pa­tion?”

It is pre­cise­ly at this point that an in­ter­nal change ceas­es to be mere­ly a pri­vate mat­ter and be­comes part of the con­di­tions of shared con­sent.

If some­one’s re­la­tion­ship to an­oth­er per­son fun­da­men­tal­ly changes, it may be use­ful to bring it up be­fore the next ses­sion—not be­cause every emo­tion must be con­fessed, but be­cause cer­tain changes can af­fect the abil­i­ty to en­ter into a fur­ther ex­pe­ri­ence un­der the same con­di­tions as be­fore. Com­plete align­ment of in­ter­nal mean­ings is nei­ther nec­es­sary nor pos­si­ble; what mat­ters is whether dif­fer­ing mean­ings cre­ate fun­da­men­tal­ly di­ver­gent ex­pec­ta­tions about what peo­ple can claim from one an­oth­er or what will fol­low.

Dis­tin­guish­ing be­tween per­son­al and shared mean­ing re­mains im­por­tant even af­ter a ses­sion, be­cause some re­ac­tions do not ap­pear im­me­di­ate­ly. Hours or days lat­er, a per­son may re­al­ize that the ex­pe­ri­ence opened up a strong emo­tion­al bond, an erot­ic in­ter­est, or a de­sire for greater close­ness; con­verse­ly, an­oth­er per­son may sub­se­quent­ly feel dis­tance, un­cer­tain­ty, or a need to re­fine a bound­ary. Nei­ther the sub­se­quent emer­gence of these feel­ings retroac­tive­ly al­ters con­sent to what has al­ready tak­en place—though it may change what a per­son is will­ing to agree to mov­ing for­ward.

The un­ex­pect­ed mean­ing of an ex­pe­ri­ence does not have to be a prob­lem that needs “fix­ing”. It can sim­ply be a new re­al­i­ty that needs to be tak­en into ac­count. Some­times it changes noth­ing; oth­er times it leads to al­tered bound­aries, a new agree­ment, the in­ter­rup­tion of a dy­nam­ic, or a de­ci­sion not to con­tin­ue fur­ther. An un­planned im­pact in it­self does not mean mis­con­duct; but good in­ten­tions cease to be enough the mo­ment a trans­for­ma­tion of the shared dy­nam­ic be­comes rec­og­niz­able.

Con­sent can­not be a guar­an­tee of what mean­ing an ex­pe­ri­ence will ul­ti­mate­ly take on. The im­por­tant bound­ary lies else­where: be­tween what aris­es with­in one per­son’s ex­pe­ri­ence and what is sup­posed to be­come of that mean­ing be­tween two peo­ple. An in­tense feel­ing can be en­tire­ly real with­out be­ing mu­tu­al. The fact that an ex­pe­ri­ence has tak­en on erot­ic, ro­man­tic, or re­la­tion­al sig­nif­i­cance for one per­son does not dic­tate how the oth­er should un­der­stand it.

Au­ton­o­my at both ends of the rope there­fore con­sists of more than just the right to ac­cept or refuse a spe­cif­ic ac­tion. It also in­cludes the right to de­cide what kind of re­la­tion­ship a per­son is will­ing to cre­ate, what mean­ings they want to de­vel­op to­geth­er, and when they no longer wish to con­tin­ue in some­thing that has be­come dif­fer­ent from what it was at the be­gin­ning.

Per­haps this is pre­cise­ly where one of the most dif­fi­cult forms of re­spect­ing au­ton­o­my lies: al­low­ing one’s own ex­pe­ri­ence to be real with­out de­mand­ing that the oth­er per­son val­i­date its re­al­i­ty by as­sign­ing it the same mean­ing.

Con­sent is there­fore not a promise that an ex­pe­ri­ence will re­main what it was meant to be. It is rather a com­mit­ment that if its mean­ing trans­forms, one per­son will not write that trans­for­ma­tion for both.