Content warning: This article discusses sexual assault.
Matthew Inglais. Jonathan Newell. Winston Lee, Gillio Lopes. Diego Sarabia. Scott Norris. Scott Kretzschmar.Â
These men are the defendants named in a civil lawsuit filed on September 14, 2026, regarding the alleged gang rape of plaintiff Jane Doe at Cornell University. In response to public outrage over the university’s lack of action to protect its students, New York Attorney General Letitia James was recently appointed special prosecutor to oversee what has now been reopened as a state criminal investigation.
According to the lawsuit, on October 19, 2024, Doe was already intoxicated when she was pressured into taking ketamine at the Chi Phi fraternity at Cornell University. Under the influence of alcohol and drugs, Doe was incapacitated and was referenced in a fraternity group chat that implied she was available for sexual intercourse. The seven men — Inglais, Newell, Lee, Lopes, Sarabia, Norris and Kretzschmar — allegedly sexually assaulted Doe until 5:45 a.m.
This horrific incident has received significant publicity across various news outlets and social media platforms. Yet, the headline used by many of these sources is “the Cornell 7.” Not the names of the men tied to a gang rape case, but a unique title, a brand to coin the event that took place. Ethically, outlets withhold the names of individuals who haven’t been charged, but “the Cornell 7” isn’t exactly a neutral substitute. Doe, who says her life was permanently changed by the assault, made the powerful choice to preserve her anonymity, taking control of her story when others took control of her body. In stark contrast, the men accused of this violation of human agency have been labeled with a catchphrase that softens the sexual violence she was subjected to.
Survivors should be able to choose anonymity, but why do the accused get it by default?
This is part of the larger pattern of the media using euphemisms to make difficult topics culturally digestible. These terms fail to capture the severity of the issue, stripping context from criminal cases. Rather than reading as advocacy, the coverage often prioritizes virality. Names become “the Cornell 7,” and gang rape becomes “rape.” The title carries the same tone as Ocean’s Eleven or an indie boy band. Instead of addressing men facing serious sexual violence accusations, the audience is left with a vague description that delays accountability. Spotlighting these stories may be well-intentioned, but press coverage rarely goes beyond the headline. Title IX restrictions, the nuances of sexual violence legislation and the institutional systems that fail women deserve scrutiny, yet they are often left out.
These topics are hard to fathom, but they should be. The role of media outlets is not to avoid discomfort but to address it. When cases are described in more digestible language, the public doesn’t have to sit with the reality of sexual violence. There are fundamental societal failures that can only be questioned when the audience understands the severity of rape and violence against women without having that reality softened.
Name the defendants, not the catchphrase. Acknowledging survivors also means treating their stories as real enough to name.Â
Matthew Inglais. Jonathan Newell. Winston Lee. Gillio Lopes. Diego Sarabia. Scott Norris. Scott Kretzschmar.Â