When it was announced that The Little Mermaid of 2023 would alter the lyrics of the 1989 original’s “Kiss the Girl,” two questions on consent arose — though their implications often went unexplored.

The first question related directly to the old song. “Yes, you want her,” the crab whispers to Prince Eric, who is on a romantic boat ride with the former mermaid Ariel. “Look at her, you know you do / Possible she wants you too / There is one way to ask her / It don’t take a word / Not a single word / Go on and kiss the girl.” This was changed to “Possible she wants you too / Use your words, boy, and ask her / If the time is right and the time is tonight / Go on and kiss the girl.” Boys can benefit from this (as can others), because framing a kiss as the “one way to ask” a girl if she “wants” you is backward. The kiss should come after there’s an understanding that you’re wanted. The change has some value and is, one must say after watching it, rather charming and humorous (“Use your words, boy” is incredible phrasing).

The second question is more muddled and interesting. Articles covering the lyrical change often drew attention to something else: in this scene, Ariel has already bargained away her voice. A writer for Glamour noted, without elaboration: “These lyrics suggest that Prince Eric doesn’t need Ariel’s verbal consent to kiss her, which of course he does, but there’s the slight issue of the fact that she cannot speak.” Insider wrote: “The song occurs during a point in the plot where Ariel has given up her speaking (and singing) voice for a pair of human legs, but the overall implication that Prince Eric should make a move on Ariel first and ask for consent later is likely troubling for some modern viewers.” A host of The View said, “With ‘Kiss the Girl,’ she gave her voice away so she could have legs, so I don’t know how she could talk… How do you consent if you can’t talk?,” to which a writer for CinemaBlend responded, “That’s very true… That would make it even worse for Prince Eric to kiss Ariel if she was literally in a position where she couldn’t speak up if she didn’t want to be kissed.” And so on (“Ariel’s voice is gone and she literally can’t offer verbal consent,” The Mary Sue).

This criticism may come from a noble place — affirmative statements are indeed valuable — but it has an odd implication. If verbal consent is always necessary, that precludes romance and sex for human beings who cannot speak. Selective mutism aside, there are various biological and neurological problems that can render someone voiceless. On the Left, we will race to be the most virtuous and woke, but this can sometimes erase or crush (other) marginalized people. These writers rush to say that “of course” Eric needs “Ariel’s verbal consent to kiss her,” and because she can’t speak it would be wrong for him to make an attempt. But unless one wants nonverbal people to never experience a kiss, unless we pretend such individuals have no agency, there needs to be room to demonstrate consent without verbal affirmation. There’s other linguistic forms like sign language and agreement in writing (which is often just a lame, whiny joke from the Right, but sometimes an actual thing), but also the nonverbal signals that sensible leftwing or liberal organizations and universities still point to when discussing safe sex. Moving closer, leaning in for the kiss, closing one’s eyes in anticipation, and so on. This is what Ariel does in the original film. She cannot speak, or use sign language, or in the moment write, but she is alive and has agency. As a writer for Jezebel put it: “Keep in mind that the plot leaves no question of Ariel’s consent. She huffs and puffs through the scene as Eric swerves her. It is her entire mission, in fact, to be kissed, as it will defeat Ursula’s curse and allow her to remain permanently human.” Actions can give consent.

Conversely, actions can revoke it, as when someone pulls away, lies inert, avoids eye contact, etc. This fact also points to the importance of not positioning affirmative, explicit statements (spoken, signed, or written) as the only way to consent. “Listening only for verbal signs of possible consent without paying attention to a person’s non-verbal cues is not a good way to determine consent either,” a sex ed organization once wrote. “For example, a person could say yes due to feeling pressured, and in a situation like that the verbal cue could be present alongside non-verbal signs of no consent.” Actions are just as important as words — they give consent, take it away, and even override affirmative statements. As Ursula once howled, “Don’t underestimate the importance of body language!” Actions can be misinterpreted, of course, in the same way an explicit Yes can be hollow. Romance and sex have to be navigated with care. (It goes almost without saying that intentional violations of nonverbal or verbal objections must be shown no mercy.)

Two ideas prompted this writing. First, the equating of an inability to speak with an inability to consent. It completely and obviously forgets a group of human beings. As if nonverbal people do not exist, have no agency, and can never enjoy love safely because they cannot literally say Yes. Second, there’s the drift away from what could be called sex realism. Framing the spoken, signed, or written word as the only way to actually consent marks anything else as nonconsensual. Is that realistic? Most human beings who have enjoyed a kiss or sex or anything in between would probably say No. They know pleasure and connection can be consensual without words. Even the most fervent Leftist is probably not, consistently, during every romantic encounter, saying “May I kiss you?” / “Kiss me”; “Can I touch you there?” / “Touch me here”; or “May I take this off?” / “Take this off” before the action occurs. I can offer no proof of this, of course, only the anecdotal — I date liberal and leftwing people, and nonverbal consent still seems to be standard practice. At times there is open communication about the big ones (“Are you ready for that?” / “Fuck me”), which is wonderful, but oftentimes you fall passionately into each other’s arms without any explicit statements, which is wonderful as well. Even those who have adopted a step-by-step, regular check-in approach to love probably take it seriously when with someone new, but let it fade when things advance into a relationship or marriage. On the one hand, this makes sense — you now know your person, what she likes, there’s trust and comfort, and so on. But on the other hand, it’s not fully clear why you shouldn’t continue to seek affirmative, explicit, linguistic agreement before taking any sort of action — if words are the only way to actually consent, what difference would it make if this is someone you met an hour ago or a husband of 30 years? Marital rape exists, partners can commit nonconsensual acts, consent can be violated. Perhaps some people actually do practice what they preach, not proceeding without a linguistic instruction or a positive response to an inquiry, regardless of whether they are with someone new or a longterm lover. Only they can condemn, without hypocrisy, other people for relying on nonverbal agreement. But all this is doubtful. More likely, people convey consent with their actions all the time. There’s performative demands on the internet, and then there’s how people actually behave when with someone they like.

Overall, it is a fine idea to modify lyrics to position a proper kiss as only coming after an understanding that such an act is desired. This understanding can be gained by simply asking, as the song urges; it is typically the clearest form of consent. But nonverbal communication also conveys this understanding. And acting on it is moral. To push nonverbal-spurred romance into the realm of the objectionable is to say nearly all human beings — mute or verbal, hookup or lifelong companion, male or female or nonbinary — are guilty of sexual violence. The spoken, signed, or written word cannot be the only way to agree to a kiss or sex. It may be valuable to encourage people to do this, especially kids and teens — the ones watching The Little Mermaid, after all — as they may be worse at perceiving or conveying nonverbal consent due to underdeveloped brains, worse impulse control, lack of experience and knowledge, etc. But romance without explicit statements can be consensual. Failure to procure them therefore can’t be castigated with any seriousness. The Little Mermaid of 2023 perhaps understands this — despite the new lyrics, Eric never actually asks Ariel if he can kiss her (she could have nodded). Like standard human beings, they lean in toward each other, their actions acknowledging their consent. The way most of us behave, after posting on the internet.

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