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Caitlin Moran: what the Kesha case really tells us

Two contrasting images for you here. The first: historical allusions to droit du seigneur. First chronicled in The Epic of Gilgamesh, then played out in parts of medieval Europe, droit du seigneur is the right of the lord to spend the night with newly wedded brides in his fiefdom.

In schlocky films, droit du seigneur begins with the local lord banging on the newlyweds’ door. The wife starts crying. The lord takes what is his. Virgins are as much his property as his cattle, his lands and his silverware.

Droit du seigneur is what happens to young, powerless girls, in history. Droit du seigneur is the one-act ritualisation of power-imbalance, misogyny and a lack of accountability and law. Droit du seigneur is, at its heart, theft: a theft of choice. And one, specifically and unusually, where the thief is richer than you, and more powerful than you – yet still seeks to take something from you. Droit du seigneur is about scared medieval virgins weeping. We do not have droit du seigneur any more.

The second image: pop star Kesha, in the video to her 2009 break-out hit, Tik Tok. Here we are in the 21st century, with all the fun and freedom that entails. We open with Kesha – 22 at the time – waking up in a bath with smeared make-up. She’s had a big night out, and she’s about to have another one. We see her come downstairs in her party dress and cowboy boots – scandalising Mum and Dad – and singing about how she’s going to clean her teeth with Jack Daniel’s and dance “until we see daylight”. It’s had 280 million views on Vevo. It’s the second biggest-selling single in download history. It’s a raucous, teenage party anthem. And Kesha – in her shorts, with her smudgy kohl, standing up and dancing in the passenger seat of a convertible – is not a medieval virgin.

And yet – droit du seigneur. This month saw the New York Supreme Court rule against Kesha’s request to be released from her contract with Kemosabe Records. Having signed to the label at 18, Kesha was suing Kemosabe’s owner, known as Dr Luke, to be released from her contract, due to Luke’s alleged sexual assault and battery, sexual harassment and emotional abuse. Kesha alleged Dr Luke had repeatedly drugged her – both with and without her assent – with GHB, the “rape” drug. Dr Luke denies her allegations. The court found against her. “You are asking the court to decimate a contract that was heavily negotiated and typical for the industry,” Supreme Court Justice Shirley Kornreich ruled. Kesha will now have to record six more albums for Dr Luke and his label. She wept uncontrollably as the verdict was given.

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Now, we cannot know the ins and outs of this case. Only a fool – convinced of their armchair judging powers – would seek to rule as an onlooker, from afar. But there are two things we can observe. The first is how women instinctively believe Kesha. The hashtag #freekesha has trended worldwide since the ruling. Almost without exception, Kesha’s female peers – Lady Gaga, Lorde, Grimes, Lily Allen, Kelly Clarkson – have tweeted their support of Kesha. Taylor Swift gave the singer $250,000, “in a show of support, to help with any financial needs during this trying time”.

There are unspoken assumptions between the sexes in the music industry

These women, in the same industry as Kesha, know what it is like for talented girls, walking through the doors of big companies, to meet a room full of older, powerful men. They know the atmosphere in those exchanges – there, in the lift, in the club, in the recording studio. In the hotel. They know the unspoken assumptions between older men and younger women – because it’s there, all there in the Gideons Bible on the nightstand beside them.

In Kings i, 2, when King David’s political power is seen to be waning, his advisers tell him to find a young virgin. “Let her stand before the king, and let her cherish him … that my lord the king may get heat.”

The king must get heat. And it is found in young, bright girls. Old kings crave the warmth. It is part of their power.

For this is, at the end, about power. What use is this contract – now legally enforceable – that Dr Luke has? If Kesha is lying – if she is mad, or vindictive, or just wants a new deal somewhere else – what person would want to keep someone on their label who has accused them of assault and rape? What business would ever prosper in those circumstances?

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And if Kesha is telling the truth, what songs will she sing for Dr Luke now? What music can you make for someone you hate? What millionaire puts a weeping, bruised bird in a cage and expects melodies?

This, then, is 21st-century droit du seigneur: a theft. A theft where the thief is richer than you, and more powerful than you – yet still seeks to take something from you. Your body, or your voice. Your choice. Because you are warm, and he is cold. Because he is the king.

Caitlin Moran’s new book, Moranifesto, is published by Ebury Press on March 10