Kobe Bryant checked into the Lodge & Spa at Cordillera in Edwards, Colorado. It was June 30th, 2003, and the almost 25-year-old Los Angeles Laker superstar basketball player was in town for knee surgery that he would undergo the next day at a nearby clinic. He arrived at the spa at 10 p.m., and a desk clerk greeted him. At his request, the 19-year-old woman gave him a tour of the lodge, and the two agreed to meet later for an autograph. After Bryant’s two security guards and trainer went to bed, she dropped by Bryant’s room and the two began kissing.
These are the facts corroborated by both parties. From here on is where their narratives diverge. The woman claimed Bryant raped her. Bryant claimed they had consensual sex. (You can read excerpts of their respective testimonies in this Daily Beast story.) A few days later, Bryant was charged with sexual assault, a felony charge carrying with it a $750,000 fine and a possible life sentence in prison.
Even before Bryant was formally charged rumors of the scandal circulated online. To address the charges, Bryant, joined by his wife, Vanessa, held a press conference at the Staples Center in Los Angeles: “I sit here in front of you guys, furious at myself, disgusted at myself for making a mistake of adultery,” Bryant said. He professed both his innocence and his gratitude to the fans for their unwavering support. Meanwhile, bloggers, tabloids and talk radio were dragging the woman through the mud. Any hope of her maintaining her anonymity vanished.
Kobe and Vanessa Bryant at his press conference, July 18th, 2003.
Many states, to encourage victims to come forward, have passed rape confidentiality statutes that restrict law enforcement and court personnel from revealing the identities of sex assault victims. In Colorado, where Bryant stood accused, it is a misdemeanor, punishable by up to a $100 fine and 90 days in jail. Nonetheless, a court reporter accidentally released a sealed order containing her name and a 206-page document detailing her sexual history that Bryant’s lawyers had compiled. Eagle County judge W. Terry Ruckriegle issued a gag order prohibiting news outlets from revealing any information contained in those documents on threat of barring them from appearing at the trial. The Colorado Supreme Court heard their appeal and ruled in favor of Judge Ruckriegle: Protecting alleged victims from significant damage outweighed any damage caused by restraining the press.
Generally, news organizations avoid revealing the names of women who allege they were sexually assaulted. It’s a choice, not a requirement. The First Amendment guarantees this, which made it likely that Judge Ruckriegle’s ruling would have been overturned by the Supreme Court, if it got there, which it didn’t. Still, newspapers, magazines, and most online publications covering the scandal chose to abide by this unwritten rule. It raises a question of fundamental fairness. In America, a person is innocent until proven guilty. Is it fair to reveal the name of an alleged assailant but not an alleged victim’s?
Since the 1970s, rape shield statutes have been instituted in every state to prevent rape victims’ medical and sexual histories from being used against them in court. These laws came as a direct result of the Women’s and Victim’s Movements of the 1970s, which sought to inform the public of the damage inflicted on rape victims when intimate details were used to shame and disparage a women’s characters.
In Colorado, the state statute permits the inclusion of this evidence only as it pertains directly to the accused. Because of this, Bryant’s legal team brought into evidence the woman’s sexual history—citing the existence of foreign semen and pubic hair in her underwear—as well as her medical history, including testimony of two suicide attempts and hospitalization for mental illness. The defense lawyers also used the woman’s name throughout legal proceedings.
Inevitably, her identity became public. One source was inflammatory radio talk show host Tom Leykis. As the legal proceedings carried on, Leykis repeated the woman’s name repeatedly on his talk show, claiming he was only trying to ensure a fair trial. Tabloids also printed her name, and some Kobe Bryant super fans started websites such as freekobe.com and metrospy.com/kobe that posted personal material on the woman, including high school yearbook photos, candids, and other information. With the transition from printed press to online publications at the end of the 20th century, the unspoken agreement between the media and the courts has been undermined by the rapid dissemination of information from less scrupled sources. To learn the woman’s name all you had to do was use Google.
There was also the issue of accuracy. In publishing any bit of information they could gather on Bryant’s accuser, tabloids and bloggers enlivened a host of false rumors and accusations that disparaged her character. The damage rippled out to her family and others. In one instance, a high school classmate was mistakenly identified as the accuser (due, in part, to the fact they shared the same first name). Speaking with reporters, the classmate described stumbling across multiple hateful blogs which had appeared overnight, as well as finding photos of herself from high school with her face superimposed over pornographic images.
The tabloids were relentless in their coverage.
The real accuser, meanwhile, had her name, phone number, home address, and numerous photos scattered across the Internet. Despite mainstream publications and news broadcasters abstaining from revealing her identity, she received hate mail and death threats. With a trial date approaching, the mass of information, much of it erroneous, would make it difficult to seat an impartial jury. The young woman had already lost in the court of public opinion.
On September 1st, 2004, the woman refused to testify and the judge had no option but to drop the charges against Bryant. Three weeks earlier, the accuser had filed a civil lawsuit against Bryant. At the federal judge’s insistence, she was ordered to use her name, but asked that it not be published. Some media organizations obliged; others claimed the civil lawsuit granted them the right to identify her publicly.
The lawsuit eventually settled out of court and included money and a half-hearted apology. After spending nearly $12 million on lawyers, experts, and investigators, Bryant spent $4 million more on an 8-carat purple diamond apology ring he gave his wife, Vanessa. Then he returned to the basketball court, securing a $136 million contract with the Lakers that year.