DEEP DIVE: Why the Trump–ABC News “Rape” Settlement Misses the Real Problem With Sexual Assault Law

When news broke in December 2024 that ABC’s George Stephanopoulos had quietly settled a defamation lawsuit with Donald Trump over the use of the word “rape,” most people focused on the politics. But as someone who spent over two decades prosecuting sex crimes, I saw something else: a teachable moment about how our laws—and our language—still struggle to capture the realities of sexual violence.

The controversy started when Stephanopoulos said, during a televised interview, that Trump had been “found liable for rape” in the civil lawsuit brought by writer E. Jean Carroll. The truth, legally speaking, is more nuanced. The jury found Trump liable for sexual abuse, not rape, because under New York’s penal law, rape requires penile-vaginal penetration. Carroll testified to digital penetration, which—however violating and traumatic—didn’t meet New York’s narrow statutory definition of “rape.”

That technical distinction became the centerpiece of a defamation claim—and ultimately, a financial settlement. But the whole affair shows how disconnected the legal language of sexual violence can be from moral reality. Because in the eyes of many Americans, what Carroll described was was a distinction without substance.

New Jersey faced this issue head-on back in the 1970s. Our Legislature removed the term “rape” from the criminal code in 1978, replacing it with clearer, more inclusive language: sexual assault and aggravated sexual assault, now codified under N.J.S.A. 2C:14-2. The change wasn’t cosmetic. It reflected a deeper understanding that sexual violence doesn’t need to look like a back-alley ambush to be real—or criminal.

Then, in 1992, the New Jersey Supreme Court issued a watershed decision in State in the Interest of M.T.S. (129 N.J. 422). That case rewrote the rules: the Court held that any act of sexual penetration without affirmative, freely given consent is sexual assault—period. There’s no need for physical struggle, visible injury, or overt threats. Penetration without permission is, by definition, forceful. That clarity empowered survivors and eliminated the absurd burden of proving that they fought back hard enough to “earn” justice.

But that wasn’t the end of the story. In State v. Garron (177 N.J. 147, 2003), the Court took the doctrine a step further by addressing how courts should evaluate consent when the parties share a sexual history. Garron reaffirmed the M.T.S. standard, but clarified that while New Jersey’s rape shield law (N.J.R.E. 412) bars evidence of a victim’s past sexual behavior in most cases, it does not block relevant evidence of prior consensual conduct between the same two people. That history, the Court held, may be directly relevant to whether a defendant reasonably believed that affirmative consent had been given during the alleged incident. The decision struck an important balance—respecting the privacy of victims while recognizing the need for fair consideration of the accused’s state of mind.

But even New Jersey—despite its early leadership—took time to align its statute with the spirit of M.T.S.. For decades after that 1992 decision, N.J.S.A. 2C:14-2 still defined sexual assault in terms of “force or coercion,” language that M.T.S. had already rendered largely obsolete. Prosecutors like me, relying on M.T.S., understood that affirmative, freely given consent was the true standard. We applied it that way in practice. But the statute’s clunky wording stayed on the books. Finally, in August 2019, the Legislature amended the law to reflect what had long been reality in the courtroom: that lack of consent—not force—is the core element of sexual assault. That update was necessary. And it underscores how even progressive jurisdictions can lag behind their own jurisprudence.

So when I see national media litigating whether calling Trump’s conduct “rape” is defamatory, I can’t help but think: this whole conversation is built on outdated legal semantics. The underlying act—a non-consensual sexual penetration—is what matters. And in New Jersey, we’ve already moved beyond this debate by centering our law on consent, not labels.

The public gets it. Survivors live it. But the law in many states hasn’t caught up.

So no, George Stephanopoulos wasn't technically correct under New York law. But morally—and in a state like New Jersey, legally— Stephanopoulos wasn’t far off. And that says more about the limitations of our statutory definitions than it does about a journalist’s word choice.

It’s time for more jurisdictions to follow New Jersey’s lead. Scrap the outdated language. Focus on consent. Recognize that all non-consensual sexual acts are violent and deserving of protection under the law.

Until then, we’ll keep watching headlines about who can and can’t be called a rapist—while the real harm, the violation of bodily autonomy, gets reduced to a legal technicality.

 I prepared an list of the definitions of sexual assault/rape in a few of our states. There are others, indeed.

• Nevada (NRS 200.366): Defines sexual assault as non‑consensual penetration “against the will” of the victim or when victim is incapable of resisting   .

• Illinois (720 ILCS 5/11‑1.20): Criminal sexual assault requires penetration plus “force or threat of force,” or victim inability to consent  .

• Maine (17‑A § 253): Gross sexual assault involves “compulsion” as defined separately—implying physical or coercive force  .

• Alaska (AS 11.41.410): First-degree assault requires penetration without consent by use of force or threat of force, or incapacitation  .

• Alabama (13A‑6‑61): Rape in the first degree requires intercourse by “forcible compulsion” or with incapacitated person  .

• Texas (Pen. Code 22.011): Sexual assault defined as non-consensual penetration—requiring physical force, threats, or coercion  .

These statutes require some external or demonstrable force, threat, or coercive behavior—not the intrinsic force of non-consensual penetration that was embraced by New Jersey's Supreme Court in 1992 and finally codified in 2019.

What about the case itself? George Stephanopoulos was an A-List journalist (the operative word is "was"). In the short term, he was collateral damage as the top rated network news program-- ABC News-- wasn't going to endure a protracted public battle with now "President" Trump. This strategy became more apparent as ABC News chief—Debra O’Connell—traveled to Mar-a-Lago shortly after the settlement and met with Trump’s inner circle.

So, instead of Donald Trump needing to prove an alleged reputational injury, ABC News suffered a relatively minor reputational blow themselves by settling the case. But much less signficant than if it was the subject of a months long trial.

Interestingly, it's likely that the statement wasn't even defamatory. As a public figure plaintiff Donald Trump would have to prove that Stephanopoulos knew the statement was false but still acted with actual malice—an admittedly difficult argument to make. However, like all legal battles, there were considerable litigation risks for ABC News. This settlement, ultimately , wasn't about victory or defeat; the real danger was in exposing the complex relationship between media and politics. An unseemly courtroom drama was avoided for a relatively modest amount. Well-- other than the cancellation of George Stephanopoulos.