Russell Brand: How Many Women Does It Take Before We Believe Them?
Four women. That’s how many it took to get Russell Brand convicted.
Four women, years of allegations, a criminal trial and an awful lot of public discussion before one of Britain’s most recognisable entertainers finally found himself facing the consequences of his behaviour.
On 9 November 2026, Brand was sentenced to ten years and six months in prison after being convicted of one count of rape and three counts of sexual assault. He was acquitted of two further rape charges and attempted indecent assault.
Now, I can’t say I’m particularly surprised. Nor am I going to spend time discussing his comedy, his career or his transformation from cheeky Essex lad into some sort of spiritual ‘guru’. Apparently, enlightenment doesn’t necessarily come with an understanding of consent.
What I do want to discuss is how many women it takes before we believe them, why we keep defending men because they have ‘talent’ and why the entertainment industry seems so reluctant to police its own.
Because Russell Brand is not an isolated case. He’s part of a much bigger problem.
Talent is not a defence, darling!
One of the things I find particularly irritating about these cases is the inevitable conversation about the man’s contribution to the industry.
But he’s a brilliant comedian. They’re a genius. They’ve changed the music industry. He’s introduced us to some of the biggest artists. He’s a national treasure.
And?
Since when did being good at your job become a character reference?
Apparently, if you’re sufficiently talented, you get a little more latitude with your behaviour. Your colleagues make excuses, your employers look the other way and your entourage becomes an unofficial crisis management team.
I’ve written about this before in my article Why Diddy’s Penis Power Stays ‘Winning’.
Penis Power is my term for the abuse of male privilege, particularly when combined with money, influence and celebrity. It’s the ability to make other people feel small, powerless or replaceable because you have something they want: access, employment, connections or simply the opportunity to be in your presence.
And let’s be honest, it isn’t just about Diddy, Russell Brand or any one individual.
We’ve seen it with R Kelly, Bill Cosby and numerous other men whose professional achievements became part of the argument for why we should somehow give them the benefit of the doubt.
The defence is remarkably predictable. They have contributed so much. He have entertained us. They have opened doors. He has done so much for the culture.
Well, congratulations. But none of that gives you ownership of another person’s body.
You can be a musical genius and a terrible human being. One can be a brilliant comedian and an abuser. You can change an industry and still be accountable for your actions.
It’s not an either/or situation.
The BBC needs to investigate ALL its talent
And then there’s the BBC.
An internal review identified eight concerns about Brand during his time presenting on Radio 2 and 6 Music. Only one had been formally recorded at the time, and that complaint was not handled effectively.
Eight concerns. One formally recorded.
How does that happen in an organisation that prides itself on standards, governance and public accountability?
Staff reportedly felt unable to challenge Brand because of his influence. So we have a situation where the institution that employed him was apparently more concerned about managing the talent than listening to the people raising concerns.
This is precisely why the BBC needs to stop treating these cases as isolated reputational disasters.
I want to see a proper examination of its entire workforce. Presenters, producers, management, contractors and anyone who has been given a platform or position of influence. Historical complaints need to be reviewed, reporting mechanisms strengthened and investigations conducted independently.
And no, this isn’t about assuming everybody is guilty. It’s about making sure nobody is protected simply because they are famous.
The BBC has already had to apologise over its handling of concerns involving Tim Westwood. It should be asking itself some very uncomfortable questions about its culture and why complaints about influential men were not properly joined up.
If an organisation can protect its brand, it can protect its employees.
Why are we still asking women why they didn’t speak sooner?
This is the other part of the conversation that needs to stop
Why did she wait? Or why didn’t she report it? Worse still why did she go back? Why did she accept the invitation? Wait, why was she at his house? Hold up, why did she carry on working with him?
Honestly, can we retire these questions?
We know that sexual abuse, coercion and manipulation are complicated. And we know that women can be frightened, financially dependent, embarrassed, traumatised or simply not ready to speak.
We also know that reporting a powerful man can mean putting your career, reputation and personal life under a microscope.
And then there’s the delightful experience of having strangers on social media conduct their own forensic investigation into your clothing, relationships and sexual history.
No wonder some women decide that silence is easier.
The four women in the Brand case did not report the offences at the time. They came forward years later, following the 2023 media investigations. Their evidence was considered by a jury, which reached its verdict.
The important point is that there is no expiry date on a woman’s right to seek justice.
And there is certainly no requirement for her to have behaved like the perfect victim.
Tim Westwood and the Teflon effect
Regular readers may remember my 2022 article, Why Tim Westwood is Teflon.
My argument then was that celebrity predators rarely operate alone. They have entourages, industry contacts and people who benefit from their access and influence. The man becomes the star, while everybody else helps maintain the machinery around him.
Westwood now faces 17 criminal charges involving nine women. He denies the allegations, and the criminal proceedings are ongoing, with a trial scheduled for January 2027.
The point of revisiting Westwood isn’t to suggest that the cases are identical. It’s to highlight the same uncomfortable question: how much does a man’s contribution to an industry influence the willingness of others to challenge him?
Westwood’s supporters have long been able to point to his contribution to British hip hop and the artists he introduced to UK audiences.
But what does that have to do with allegations of sexual assault?
Nothing.
A decent record collection is not a character reference.
Stop protecting the talent
Russell Brand’s conviction should be a wake-up call, not just for the BBC but for the entire entertainment industry.
We need to stop confusing talent with character, popularity with integrity and professional success with personal decency.
And we need to stop treating women as collateral damage in the careers of men we happen to admire.
The next time somebody tells you that a man should be given the benefit of the doubt because he’s done so much for the industry, perhaps ask them what exactly his talent has to do with the allegations.
We don’t owe celebrities our loyalty. We don’t owe employers our silence. And women certainly don’t owe men their reputations.
Four women helped secure Russell Brand’s convictions. Nine women are involved in the charges against Tim Westwood. There are countless others whose experiences never make it into a courtroom.
How many women does it take before we stop defending the talent and start protecting the women?
Because frankly, I’m bored of the excuses.
Chelsea Black.
P.S Please note the wax dummy. Will it be melted down or will madame tussuad’s keep him forever??
© Chelsea Black ® 2026