I Defend Due Process—the Cornell Case Shows Victims Need More

Amid the outrage over what allegedly happened at Cornell University, one voice has been largely silent: the Trump administration. This is an administration that has loudly condemned schools that protect the rights of trans students, opened high-profile investigations into school districts over programs for Black students and threatened the tax-exempt status of colleges over diversity, equity and inclusion policies. Yet a woman files a lawsuit alleging she was drugged and repeatedly raped in an hours-long ordeal involving seven fraternity brothers at an Ivy League university and there is near radio silence from the Trump administration—apart from the president’s own comments that “Cornell is a fine school, and I’m sure they’ll do what’s right.”

All of the men have denied wrongdoing. Cornell’s Title IX panel found all seven responsible for misconduct ranging from attempted sexual exploitation to sexual assault. As The New York Times has reported, two were expelled and two suspended; several were assigned to write “reflection papers.” The local district attorney, who declined to bring charges in 2024 based on a statement Doe purportedly made, has reopened the case, and New York Governor Kathy Hochul has since appointed the state’s attorney general, Letitia James, as special prosecutor.

I have spent the last 10 years defending due process in campus sexual misconduct cases. I wrote a book on the subject, served as reporter for an American Bar Association task force that brought together advocates for accused students and victims, and have advised students on both sides in Title IX hearings. I do not say this lightly: The rules that now govern every college in America do not go far enough to protect students like Jane Doe.

Start with what constitutes harassment. Under regulations adopted at the end of Trump’s first term, and back in force since a federal court struck down their Biden-era replacement in January 2025, it is no longer enough for unwelcome conduct to be severe, pervasive or objectively offensive. It must be all three. Seem like just a semantic quibble? Imagine a student whose nude photo is posted once, without her consent, to a fraternity group chat with hundreds of members. Because it happened only once, it may not be “pervasive,” and her school may have no obligation under Title IX to do anything about it.

The rules also narrowed what counts as notice. It used to be enough that a college employee knew or should have known about harassment. Now, at colleges, the institution must have actual knowledge and only reports to the Title IX coordinator or an official with the authority to take corrective action count. A student who tells a professor that she was raped has not, in the eyes of the regulations, told the college at all.

Consider Larry Nassar, the former Michigan State University doctor who abused hundreds of girls and young women over two decades. A Detroit News investigation found that at least 14 university staff, including athletic trainers and coaches, were told about his abuse. Under today’s rules, those reports might not have obligated the university to act. At Cornell, rumors about what happened at the Chi Phi fraternity house spread quickly through Greek life. Had Jane never come forward herself, those rumors alone would have triggered no duty to investigate.

Finally, the rules weakened what schools must do once they find someone responsible. Colleges once had to respond reasonably. Now they need only avoid being “deliberately indifferent.” To be clear, no federal rule told Cornell how to sanction these students; the university made its own choices. But under this standard, the federal government has almost no basis to second-guess Cornell. At my 13-year-old daughter’s last school, she would have been punished more seriously than some of these men for wearing spaghetti straps.

When the 2020 regulations took effect, people like me welcomed one part of them: robust procedural protections, including live hearings and cross-examination. But the 2020 rule bundled them with something else entirely: a narrowing of when colleges must act at all. Fair procedures and meaningful obligations need not be in tension. A college can give accused students a fair hearing and still be required to take reports seriously and respond reasonably. Furthermore, and to state the obvious, procedures mean little when no one enforces the law they serve.

And no one is. In March 2025, the U.S. Department of Education closed seven of the 12 regional offices of its Office for Civil Rights and laid off roughly half of its staff. A report from Senator Bernie Sanders found that the office reached zero resolution agreements in 2025 in cases involving sexual harassment or sexual violence. A study by the Center for WorkLife Law similarly found the office has not resolved a single sexual assault or sexual harassment complaint since Trump returned to the White House. If Jane Doe had turned to the federal government for help, there would have been almost no one there to answer. It is no surprise, then, that Jane’s lawyers went to state court, pressing negligence claims rather than relying on Title IX.

Whoever wins the White House in 2028 should treat Jane Doe’s case as a call to action. Harassment should once again mean conduct that is severe, pervasive or objectively offensive. A report to any responsible employee should count as notice. And colleges should be required to respond reasonably, not merely avoid deliberate indifference. Until then, students who are assaulted on campus should understand that Washington is not coming to help them.