Storytelling in literature often reflects society’s evolving values. We've come a long way, particularly in how women are both depicted and received. Still, some tropes stubbornly linger despite their problematic implications. Among these is the use of a woman’s sexual assault as a plot device to motivate a male protagonist’s quest for revenge. This hook, once an accepted means of ratcheting up the stakes, is now, finally, recognized as reductive, exploitative, and misaligned. It reduces very serious issues of trauma and agency into disturbing triggers for male action, ultimately failing both the victim and the audience.

The Problematic Nature of Using Sexual Assault as a Plot Device:
At its core, this trope positions a woman’s pain as secondary to a man’s journey. By using her assault to ignite his vengeance as a plot mechanism, the victim is denied agency and dimensionality, often disappearing from the story entirely after serving this singular purpose. I have read many, many non-fiction memoirs where the author has courageously shared her trauma, and never once has it turned away from that experience and morphed into a story about her father, son, brother, or partner. It wouldn't, because it is not about them, and it does not make the victim whole again by any stretch of the imagination.

The Harmful Reinforcement of Patriarchal and Toxic Masculinity:
A particularly insidious aspect of this trope is how it ties a woman’s assault to a man’s masculine identity. Her trauma is framed not as a violation of her autonomy but as an affront to the man’s pride, honor, or role as protector. This reframing reinforces the patriarchal notion that a man’s worth is defined by his ability to safeguard the women in his life. When he “fails” in this duty, he is portrayed as needing to reclaim his masculinity through acts of vengeance. This reduces the woman to a symbol of his perceived weakness, shifting away from her pain and landing square into the lap of what matters least: his ego.

The Need for More Thoughtful and Imaginative Storytelling:
The use of sexual violence in fiction demands careful handling. When treated with sensitivity and the empathy it commands, it will shed light on the pervasive realities of gendered violence and center survivors’ voices in powerful ways. However, when it is reduced to a plot device for a man’s arc, it trivializes the experience and perpetuates misogynistic storylines. On the other side of this, when a victim hits the road to exact her own vengeance, as long as her voice is as organic, it works if done correctly.

For those looking for recommendations on how to best present this, a few perfect examples worth your time are Emerald Fennell's screenplay Promising Young Woman, Bonnie Kistler's Her, Too, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson, and Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owen. It is way past time that we leave behind stories that exploit women’s trauma for the sake of male heroism, and let those stories be about women with agency, depth, and dignity.