Probe sexual misconduct claims, but don’t forget the victims

 Fairness cannot come at the cost of silence.

From Dr Nadirah Babji, Vilashini Somiah and Benjamin YH Loh

When it comes to allegations of sexual misconduct involving doctors at hospitals, two things need to be considered.

One, such allegations, if false, have repercussions on the said doctor’s career and reputation.

Second, we cannot dismiss the impact these allegations have on the victims themselves — victims whose experience is often drowned out while the spotlight remains firmly on the probe, the findings and the action taken.

Sexual harassment remains substantially under-reported. A Women’s Aid Organisation survey in Malaysia revealed that 62% of women surveyed had experienced unwanted sexual advances at the workplace, yet only 21% identified their experience as “sexual harassment”.

Many do not even identify what they have experienced as inappropriate behaviour until those behaviours are explicitly described. This is the reality that should frame our discussion: not an epidemic of false accusations, but an epidemic of silence.

Let us be clear that false allegations do happen. They should be investigated where there is evidence of fabrication. But there is an important difference between acknowledging that possibility and allowing it to become the defining narrative around workplace sexual harassment.

More importantly, it is important to distinguish that “not proven” is not the same as “false”.

A complaint may be unsubstantiated because there is insufficient evidence, because witnesses are unavailable, because the complainant withdraws, or because an investigation cannot establish precisely what occurred. None of these outcomes demonstrates fabrication.

We should also be careful about what we mean by evidence. Sexual harassment rarely leaves behind the kind of forensic trail people imagine. It often occurs behind closed doors, without witnesses, and within relationships where one person exercises significant authority over another.

Additionally, most abusers are aware of the systems in place and how to weave around them, meaning that another form of evidence — patterns of behaviour towards others — is crucial in framing a habit of abuse.

This has become a key mechanism for corroborating evidence against abusers through the #MeToo movement and continues to serve as an important means of holding perpetrators accountable.

This brings us to the link between power and sexual harassment.

Sexual harassment is rarely just about sex. It is about hierarchy; who holds authority, whose voice is believed, whose career depends on someone else’s evaluation, and who bears the greater risk by speaking up.

Medicine is one of the clearest examples of this imbalance. House officers depend on senior doctors for assessments, references, specialist training and career progression. Junior doctors often have little room to refuse inappropriate behaviour without fearing professional consequences.

That reality fundamentally shapes how complaints are made or why they are never made at all.

These dynamics are rife in Malaysia. House officers at Sungai Buloh Hospital have alleged sexual harassment, misogynistic remarks, bullying and threats linked to performance assessments.

When we remove power from the conversation, we reduce sexual harassment to a dispute between two individuals. But it is not simply interpersonal conflict. It is a structural issue embedded within institutions, professional hierarchies and workplace cultures.

The recent Kota Kinabalu hospital case illustrates this imbalance starkly. A doctor who alleged sexual harassment by her hospital director reportedly underwent psychiatric treatment, took 101 days of medical leave and faced financial penalties while the alleged perpetrator reportedly remained at work.

The allegations remain under investigation, but the harm of reporting was immediate and real. Yet much of the public conversation remains focused on the hypothetical harms faced by the accused.

Why are we spending so much time discussing how men can protect themselves from allegations, while spending comparatively little time discussing how men can prevent sexual harassment from occurring in the first place?

Where are the conversations about maintaining professional boundaries, challenging sexist humour, respecting consent and personal space, recognising unwanted touching, and refusing to misuse positions of authority?

More importantly, where is the expectation that men speak to other men?

The question should not be how men can avoid accusations. It should be how men can help create workplaces where sexual harassment is far less likely to occur.

If male colleagues genuinely worry about false allegations, one of the most effective safeguards is not suspicion of women but accountability among men.

Cultures change when those with power refuse to protect one another.

The first instinct should not be to ask, “How do we protect innocent men from complaints?” It should be “What are we doing to stop men from abusing the power they already have?”

Too often, discussions framed around false allegations produce a defensive posture in which men are encouraged to see themselves primarily as potential victims of accusations.

That instinct, while understandable, misses the larger picture. Men are not simply potential defendants in this conversation. They are consultants, supervisors, heads of department, mentors, colleagues and institutional leaders. They are also bystanders with the ability (and indeed the responsibility) to shape workplace cultures before complaints ever arise.

Much of the current discussion mistakes accountability for persecution. They are not the same thing.

Every profession periodically undergoes what might be called institutional housekeeping; moments when behaviours that were once ignored, normalised or quietly tolerated are finally subjected to scrutiny.

Medicine is not uniquely victimised by this process. It is simply being asked to meet the same standards increasingly expected across workplaces.

For that reason, we argue that this is not a witch hunt, but rather an urgent call for accountability.

Recognising the role of gender and power does not mean assuming every man is a perpetrator.

Women can perpetrate sexual harassment. Men can experience it. False allegations do occur.

None of these realities are mutually exclusive. But fairness also requires proportionality.

The documented reality remains that sexual harassment is substantially under-reported, that workplace hierarchies discourage complaints, and that institutional responses often fail those who report. These realities deserve at least as much public attention as hypothetical false allegations.

Fairness cannot come at the cost of silence. If people are too afraid to report harassment, the system has already failed. Safer workplaces begin not with women speaking louder, but with men doing better. -  FMT

Dr Nadirah Babji is a medical doctor, Vilashini Somiah is an anthropologist, and Benjamin YH Loh is a media scholar.

The views expressed are those of the writers and do not necessarily reflect those of MMKtT.