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(Content Warning: discussion of sexual assault and grooming behavior)

On December 30, 2025, the Washington Court of Appeals dismissed a defamation lawsuit filed by a pastor against his employee and parishioner after she referred to a sexual encounter between them as “rape.” While the outcome is notable, what I find more interesting is how the court reached the result it did.

The opinion presents a nuanced and sophisticated understanding of consent and how survivors handle trauma. The court explicitly recognized the power dynamics in the relationship between Carter and Jones and framed the facts within that context. And it explains how the power dynamics impact the concept of consent, rejecting the antiquated argument that “but she never said the word ‘no’!” as outdated and overly simplistic.

Lawsuit Background

Micahn Carter, a male pastor, sued his former assistant and parishioner, Mary Jones, for defamation. The suit stemmed from a sexual encounter between the two in a church office in Yakima in 2019. Carter claimed the encounter was consensual, while Jones later called it “rape.” Carter’s lawsuit cited two communications that it claimed were defamation: Jones’ private letter to another pastor and her public blog post.

Jones moved to dismiss under the Uniform Public Expression Protection Act (UPEPA), which is Washington’s anti-SLAPP (Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation) statute. An anti-SLAPP statute is meant to deter the use of the legal system as a weapon to intimidate or silence free speech on matters of public concern.

The trial court refused to dismiss the defamation lawsuit against Jones. The Washington Court of Appeals held the trial court erred and ordered the dismissal of the lawsuit against Jones. You can find the opinion here. Be warned, it’s 100 pages.

Carter as a Limited Public Figure

In defamation law, one of the most important considerations is whether the speaker is referring to a private individual or someone more like a public figure. The status of that person then determines their burden of proof. The court here concluded that under defamation law, Carter qualified as a “limited public figure,” which increased his burden of proof and required him to prove by clear and convincing evidence that Jones made her statements with “actual malice.” Slip op. 49-72.

The court weighed various factors. It found that sexual misbehavior by an employer and pastor involving a subordinate was a matter of public concern. Carter, as a prominent pastor and author, had access to the media to counter allegations and had voluntarily assumed a role of public trust that invited scrutiny. He also voluntarily—and aggressively—sought to use the power of the courts against Jones by first filing in Alabama, even though she lives in Washington and the Alabama courts did not have jurisdiction over her, and improperly filing in the public court record requests for intimate details about her love life.

Fact vs. Opinion

In defamation law, opinion is constitutionally protected speech, while statements of fact are not if they are set forth negligently or with actual malice. The court concluded the letter contained a statement of fact (but was also protected by a privilege), while the blog post was opinion. Slip op. 72-81.

In the private letter to another pastor, Jones succinctly stated that Carter raped her without providing underlying details. The court held this was a statement of fact and potentially actionable under defamation law. However, the court also held this letter was protected by a common interest privilege because it went to a single person—a church leader—who could benefit from the information. This meant even though the statement that Carter raped her was considered “fact” in this context, Carter would still be required to prove actual malice.

In her public blog post, Jones also used the word “rape” to describe their encounter, but she provided extensive background for why. She described Carter’s “grooming” behavior, the power imbalance in their relationship, his prior advances, and her specific thoughts and actions during the encounter. After therapy, she understood that what happened was rape and not her fault. The court ruled that by disclosing this background, her characterization of their encounter was her personal, subjective belief, and the reader can draw their own conclusion about what happened. Given the medium and the background narrative Jones provided, the accusation of “rape” in the blog post was deemed a non-actionable opinion.

Failure to Prove Actual Malice & Focus on Consent

The central pillar of the court’s decision to dismiss the entire case was Carter’s failure to establish a genuine issue of fact regarding actual malice. Slip op. 81-95. Actual malice requires a showing that the defendant made a statement with knowledge of its falsity or with reckless disregard for its truth.

The court found no direct or circumstantial evidence to suggest Jones had serious doubts about the truth of her statements. The court here shows a sophisticated understanding of the psychological impact of sexual abuse in relationships with inherent power imbalances. It validates that a victim’s subjective interpretation of an event can be considered “true” for the purposes of a defamation analysis, even if their description of the event changes over time.

The court acknowledged that victims of sexual harassment and assault, especially in power differential situations like employer-employee or pastor-parishioner relationships, may initially blame themselves and later, with therapy, re-characterize the event as non-consensual. Jones’s changing perspective on the situation was typical of trauma sufferers. The court rejected Carter’s defamation suit because he failed to reach the subjective requirement for genuine malice.

As part of its analysis, the court rejected the criminal code’s restrictive definition of rape. Consent involves “actual words or conduct indicating freely given agreement.” The court meticulously noted the lack of evidence that Jones consented to the sexual encounter, including Carter’s own testimony that he did not remember it.

It also highlights the differential in power. Carter was both her employer and her pastor—positions that gave him power over her. The court questioned whether a sexual encounter can ever be truly consensual in those situations. The court noted that numerous states have criminalized sex between a pastor and a parishioner, given the positions of trust and authority pastors have. The opinion then discusses the “long history of predatory sexual behavior toward women in the work place” and the “abuse of trust when a pastor pursues sex with a parishioner.” Slip op. 41.

The court’s discussion about the purpose of UPEPA as an anti-SLAPP statute is unusually candid. Slip op. 95-99. It notes UPEPA’s purpose is “particularly served here because of the strong public policy in favor of disclosing workplace sexual assault,” slip op. 98, and because the statute aims to protect defendants from “lawsuit harassment and liability” for speaking about sexual assault and workplace sexual harassment, slip op. 99. It expressly invokes the post–October 2017 #MeToo landscape and ties that to emerging public focus on pastor sexual abuse and manipulation of young women by trusted clergy. Slip op. 99.

Interestingly, four organizations filed friend of the court briefs: Sexual Violence Law Center, Legal Voice, Zero Abuse Project, and Godly Response to Abuse in the Christian Environment. I suspect those briefs provided a lot of the education to the court about how victims in these contexts experience trauma and how the power imbalance impacts victims.

This opinion is a fantastic example of how courts should view cases involving allegations of sexual assault. And though it shouldn’t matter, it’s also worth noting the opinion was written by a white man, Judge George Fearing. Judge Fearing is retiring at the end of 2025, and his intellect and strong voice calling out gender and racial bias will be sorely missed.

About the Author
I grew up saying I would never be a lawyer. My father was a lawyer (he’s retired now), and I was going through a rebellious phase—a phase that apparently lasted until my mid-twenties when I finally had to admit that maybe going to law school was what I wanted to do. I worked as a legal assistant for my dad for a few years to help me decide, and that gave me the chance to work on cases involving personal injury, insurer misconduct, and legal malpractice. It was rewarding to help people work their way through the often-confusing legal system to get them a measure of justice for the harms done to them.