Russell Brand’s wife is standing by him during trial – but why do women support men accused of sexual offences?
From the pressure to defend a partner to the power of celebrity charisma, UKCP-accredited psychotherapist Lisa Bruton explains why women may remain loyal to men facing serious allegations — and why the public is often quick to judge the women standing beside them.

Pics: Getty Images
When a man is accused of sexual offences, like Russell Brand, public attention often turns not only to the allegations but also to the woman standing beside him.
Why does she continue to support him? Does she believe he is innocent? Is she in denial? And how can she reconcile her relationship with the allegations being made against her partner?
These questions have resurfaced as Russell Brand faces trial over allegations of rape and sexual offences, which he denies. His wife, Laura Brand, has been publicly associated with his support during the proceedings, prompting renewed discussion about the psychology of loyalty.
But according to Lisa Bruton, a UKCP-accredited psychotherapist, there is a wider question worth asking: why do we place so much responsibility on women to answer for men’s behaviour?
“I think there can be a lot of sexism in the response,” she says. “A man’s actions are often seen as a woman’s moral duty to correct.”
Bruton believes that women can be judged as though they are responsible for managing, correcting or condemning their partners. This can shift attention away from the behaviour being discussed and towards the woman who remains in the relationship.
“We have no idea what’s really going on in there,” she says, referring to the assumptions people make about other people’s relationships.

Why we judge the women who stand by their partners
When allegations against a public figure emerge, it can be tempting to assume that a partner who stays must be turning a blind eye. But relationships are rarely as straightforward as they appear from the outside.
Bruton points out that outsiders cannot know the private conversations a couple has had, what each person believes or how they understand their shared history.
There may also be practical considerations. Couples can share finances, homes, responsibilities and children, all of which can make the prospect of separation considerably more complicated.
“I also think there can be a massive asymmetry in terms of finances and that has a huge bearing on whether people choose to separate or not,” she says.
The public may see a partner’s continued support as a simple statement of loyalty. In reality, the decision to remain in a relationship can involve emotional, financial and family considerations that are invisible to outsiders.
Bruton also questions the assumption that a woman’s relationship must be the defining feature of her life.
People may project their own expectations onto a couple, imagining what they would do in the same situation without knowing the full circumstances.
How children can complicate the picture
When a couple has children together, the emotional stakes can become even greater.
Bruton explains that a parent may find it difficult to separate their feelings about their partner from their understanding of their children and family life.
“Your child is also part of this person,” she says.
That connection can make it harder to confront aspects of a partner’s behaviour that challenge the family’s established sense of itself. Acknowledging serious allegations may raise painful questions about the relationship, the future and the family the couple has built.
Bruton suggests that people sometimes protect themselves from these difficult realities by compartmentalising aspects of a partner they find troubling.
This does not mean that every woman who stays is in denial, or that continued support necessarily indicates belief or disbelief. Rather, it highlights how complicated it can be to process information that threatens a person’s emotional world.
Can we convince ourselves not to see what is in front of us?
One of the most difficult aspects of allegations against a partner is the possibility that the person we know privately may not fit the picture being presented publicly.
Bruton says people can find ways of minimising or rationalising information that is painful to confront.
“I think often people find all sorts of ways of not seeing what is there,” she says.
She adds that this can become particularly difficult when the situation feels humiliating, exposing or overwhelming. Faced with the prospect of making major life changes, a person may instead focus on preserving as much stability as possible.
“The whole experience can feel so humiliating and so exposing and so difficult that you don’t actually have the capacity to make big life changes,” she says.
For parents of young children, that desire for stability may be especially powerful.
Psychologically, this can help explain why someone might struggle to reconsider their relationship even when uncomfortable information emerges. People do not always process challenging information in a detached or objective way, particularly when it threatens their identity, security or future.
Bruton also highlights the possibility of minimising, denying or justifying troubling behaviour rather than confronting it directly.
The important distinction is that these are possible responses, not conclusions that can be drawn about any particular person from their public behaviour alone.

The power of charisma — and celebrity washing
A charismatic public figure may have spent years cultivating an image that audiences find entertaining, compelling or even endearing. When serious allegations emerge, some people may struggle to reconcile that familiar persona with the behaviour being alleged.
She describes this as a form of “celebrity washing”, arguing that fame can influence the way people judge male public figures.
“So many things are okay if you add the component of being male, white and famous,” she says.
In Brand’s case, Bruton points to his long-established public image as an outspoken, flamboyant and provocative entertainer, alongside his considerable online following.
She argues that audiences who remember a celebrity as a funny or outrageous personality may find it difficult to reconcile that image with allegations of harmful behaviour.
Bruton also suggests that some supporters may interpret allegations against a famous man through a narrative of victimisation, particularly when the individual presents himself as being targeted by powerful institutions or the media.
Brand has publicly denied the allegations and has portrayed himself as the subject of a campaign against him. Bruton argues that such narratives can resonate with audiences who already feel distrustful of established institutions.
Online communities can reinforce these views, allowing people to seek out commentary that supports their existing beliefs.
The result is that a public figure’s reputation may continue to shape how people interpret new information, even when the allegations are serious.
When a partner believes they can change someone
Another factor Bruton raises is the emotional investment involved in trying to change a partner.
A person may have spent years supporting someone through difficult periods, believing they have helped them grow or become a different person. If serious allegations concern historic behaviour, they may see that past as separate from the relationship they have built together.
Bruton compares this to the psychological concept of the sunk-cost fallacy: the tendency to continue investing in something because of the time, effort or resources already committed.
“You might feel very invested and have invested a lot of energy into changing your partner,” she says.
“So it’s like sunk cost fallacy – I’ve invested so much in this, I don’t want to give up at this stage.”
In relationships, that investment can be emotional as well as practical. Someone may feel that leaving would mean acknowledging that their efforts to help a partner change have not produced the outcome they hoped for.
However, supporting someone through genuine personal growth is different from accepting responsibility for their behaviour. One partner cannot control another person’s actions, and time invested in a relationship does not mean someone is obliged to remain in it.
Why public displays of loyalty don’t tell us everything
When a relationship becomes the subject of public scrutiny, a partner’s actions can quickly be interpreted as evidence of what they privately believe.
But Bruton cautions against assuming that an outsider can know what is happening inside a relationship.
Someone may feel pressure to maintain a public position even while privately experiencing uncertainty. Equally, someone may genuinely believe their partner’s denial.
The difficulty is that the public sees only a small part of a much larger picture.
Bruton says people may avoid making major life changes because the experience feels so exposing, particularly when children and family stability are involved.
That can make public criticism especially difficult to navigate. When someone feels that their relationship, judgement and family are all being scrutinised, they may become more protective of the life they have built.
It is therefore important not to treat a public show of loyalty as proof of denial, complicity or a particular psychological dynamic.
What about the women who make the allegations?
While public discussion often centres on the partner who remains, Bruton says it is important not to lose sight of the women who have come forward with allegations.
The experience of going through a trial can be deeply exposing, particularly when intimate details are examined in court and discussed publicly.
She acknowledges that allegations can have a second life online, where commentary and speculation continue beyond the courtroom.
“I can imagine it can feel quite devastating,” she says of the possibility of seeing a defendant’s supporters publicly stand by him.
