Publicist Juda Engelmayer is the hired crisis manager for the Alexander brothers. As their trial comes up, Engelmayer’s attempt to whitewash the charges are a little weak, not to mention an insult to women everywhere. His repeated assertion that the federal case against Oren, Alon, and Tal Alexander is nothing more than the retroactive criminalization of “consensual adult relationships” is not just misleading, it’s a deliberate distortion of what’s really at stake. Engelmayer’s narrative hinges on the notion that women are simply regretting consensual encounters years later and now, for whatever reason, labeling them as crimes. But this framing that the women changed their minds willfully ignores both the law and the overwhelming body of evidence amassed by prosecutors.
First and foremost, the prosecution’s case is grounded in far more than fallible memory or subjective re-interpretation. Investigators have collected extensive digital evidence, iCloud backups, private messages on social media, and even videos, that consistently reveal a chilling pattern: women being secretly administered drugs, rendered physically incapacitated, and stripped of their ability to make decisions. These are not ambiguous situations. The clarity of the evidence leaves little room for the kind of moral or legal gray area the defense is trying to create.
At the heart of this matter is a fundamental truth, recognized by both law and basic decency: consent must be informed, conscious, and freely given. When someone is unconscious, drugged, or otherwise unable to exercise their will, consent is categorically impossible. This isn’t some arcane legal technicality or semantic debate—it’s a basic principle that protects bodily autonomy and personal safety. The idea that “consent” can exist in a context where a person is physically helpless is not just wrong; it’s dangerous.
Yet, despite this, Engelmayer and the defense persist in recasting the case as a referendum on sexual freedom or private choices between adults, which is actually similar to how Engelmayer framed the OneTaste case. It’s an attempt to cloak the facts in the language of personal liberty, hoping to sway opinion with appeals to open-mindedness or progressive values. But this rhetorical strategy is nothing more than an evasion. It deliberately sidesteps the documented reality that these drugs, substances like GHB, weren’t present by accident or for recreational use. They were procured and deployed with a singular, sinister intent: to deprive women of their agency and make meaningful consent unattainable.
The “lifestyle” argument, suggesting that these encounters were part of a mutually accepted adult scene, collapses under the weight of forensic evidence. Toxicology reports, digital trails, and video records don’t have political agendas or emotional biases; they simply reveal what happened. And what they reveal is not a matter of regret or changed minds, but situations where women were deliberately put in positions where they could not say yes or no. That is not a consensual relationship by any definition; it is exploitation, pure and simple.
In the end, the Engelmayer defense relies on smoke and mirrors, asking the public, and potentially a jury, to ignore hard evidence in favor of misleading narratives about regret and sexual freedom. But the truth, anchored in both law and fact, can’t be so easily obscured. The case is not about consensual adults revisiting old choices. It is about the intentional removal of consent, the deliberate use of drugs to render victims defenseless, and the subsequent exploitation of their helplessness. No amount of rhetorical spin can erase the reality captured in texts, videos, and forensic reports. The real issue is not the criminalization of consensual sex, it’s the prosecution of those who violated the very possibility of consent itself.