Bodily Autonomy and Medical Accountability: Why Informed Consent Is a Feminist Issue by A. Stuart

We talk about consent a lot, and we should. Consent shapes our relationships, our sex lives, our safety, and our sense of self. Yet there is one place where consent is often treated like paperwork rather than power: the doctor’s office.

Reproductive healthcare decisions can be deeply personal and time-sensitive. They can also happen in rooms where the language is technical, the pace is fast, and the power dynamic is real. That is exactly why informed consent matters. It is one of the clearest ways in which bodily autonomy becomes practical, protected, and respected.

What Informed Consent Actually Means (And What It’s Not)

Informed consent is a process, not a signature.

It means you have the information you need to make a decision that fits your body, your life, and your values. In plain language, informed consent includes:

• A clear explanation of what is being recommended and why

• The benefits and the risks, including the rare but serious ones

• Reasonable alternatives, plus what happens if you choose none of the options

• Time and space to ask questions, without pressure or shame

What informed consent is not:

• Being rushed through a conversation while someone stands with their hand on the door

• A pile of jargon that makes you feel “stupid” for needing clarity

• A vibe of “Trust me” when you are asking for details

• A checkbox that replaces an actual conversation

If you left an appointment feeling confused, pressured, or dismissed, that is not you failing to “do healthcare right.” That is a system failing to treat you as the decision-maker.

Why Informed Consent Is a Feminist Issue

Feminism, at its core, is about agency. It is about who gets to decide what happens to our bodies, labour, futures, pleasure, pain, and risk. Informed consent sits right in the middle of that.

For many of us, medical spaces carry extra baggage. People of colour, disabled people, LGBTQ+ people, migrants, and survivors of trauma often report being dismissed, under-informed, or treated as “difficult” when they advocate for themselves. So when we talk about informed consent, we are talking about equality in real life, not in theory.

And when informed consent breaks down, accountability matters. Some people look into complaint processes, second opinions, and formal reporting. Others explore legal accountability, including cases such as the copper IUD litigation involving Paragard, when they believe they were harmed or not properly warned. Whatever path someone chooses, the feminist point stays the same: informed choice requires real information.

When the System Fails: Medical Accountability and the Information Gap

Here is the uncomfortable truth: autonomy can be quietly taken away.

It can be taken away with rushed explanations. With minimised side effects. With “You’ll be fine,” when what you asked for was the likelihood of complications and what to watch for. With a clinician who talks over you. With a healthcare culture that rewards speed more than care.

Medical accountability is not about perfection. Bodies are complex, outcomes vary, and even the best care can have risks. Accountability is about honesty, transparency, and respect. It is about ensuring patients are partners in decision-making, not passengers.

If we want consent culture worldwide, we need it in healthcare, too.

A Practical Feminist Checklist for Medical Decision-Making

Here are a few ways to protect your autonomy in appointments, especially when discussing contraception, procedures, or any ongoing treatment plan.

Questions to Ask:

• What are the most common side effects, and what are the most serious risks?

• How likely are those risks, in plain numbers if possible?

• What symptoms should prompt me to call you, and which require urgent care?

• What are my alternatives, and what are the trade-offs?

• What happens if I wait or decide against this option?

Ask for Clarity:

• Can you explain that in everyday language?

• Can you write down the key risks and warning signs?

• Can you point me to reliable resources I can read later?

If a clinician reacts badly to basic questions, that is information too.

Document and Bring Support:

• Bring a friend, partner, or advocate if that feels helpful

• Take notes, or ask permission to record the conversation where allowed

• Request your after-visit summary and copies of relevant records

What Ethical Care Looks Like: Shared Decision-Making

Ethical care looks like a clinician offering evidence and context, then listening to what matters to you. Your health history, your capacity for risk, your lifestyle, your future plans, your mental load, your trauma history, your financial reality. All of it counts.

A good baseline reminder is the NHS guidance on consent to treatment, which clearly states that consent requires permission based on an explanation you can understand. Simple. Human. Non-negotiable.

Reclaiming Autonomy After a Bad Medical Experience

If you have ever had an appointment where you felt brushed off, you are not alone. Anger, grief, anxiety, and even shame can show up, and none of those feelings mean you did anything wrong.

A few gentle next steps that can help:

• Seek a second opinion, preferably from someone who takes your questions seriously

• Ask for your medical records and any device or procedure details that were used

• Write down your timeline, symptoms, and what you remember being told

• Lean on your people and your community, especially if you feel isolated

Consent Belongs in the Doctor’s Office Too

Informed consent protects dignity. It protects choice. It protects the right to say yes with full knowledge, and the right to say no without punishment. So ask the questions. Request the explanations. Take the time you need. Bring your notes. Bring your rage if you have to.

Your body is not a form to be processed. Your consent is not a checkbox. Your autonomy deserves the whole truth.