It was not until 1994, when the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the National Justice Institute launched the Violence Against Women Survey, that the alarming prevalence of rape and sexual assault was fully realized (Dahlberg 5). Approximately one in five women over the age of eighteen are victims of sexual assault (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention). This epidemic of injustice against women has rightfully inspired outrage. Adding fuel to the fire, the conviction rate for rape is lower than for any other violent crime. Nine hundred and ninety-four out of every one thousand rapists will walk free. Even more startling is that only one in three rapes are reported (Truman 8). Still, given the inability of the courts to produce convictions, perhaps the desire not to report and relive a horrendous violation of human dignity over the course of months is more than justified. But how can we do better to ensure that women are being protected and that perpetrators are being held accountable? The answer that many, myself included, turn to is consent. When given that 51 percent of perpetrators are intimate partners and another 40.8 percent are acquaintances, it becomes clear that proper communication and mutual respect are integral to setting standards that help to mitigate the risk of violation (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention). Unlike with the clear violence and ill intentions of a stranger attacking someone on the street, the line between sex and rape becomes a legal gray area with two adults who have already engaged in sexual activity. Without a clear standard of consent, it is difficult to determine what the appropriate standards for someone else’s sexual activities are. Through looking at the origin of our concepts of consent, analyzing different theoretical frameworks, and sifting through the multiplicity of state laws regarding the subject, we may be able to determine a more effective legal standard for preventing violence against women.