By Jonathan Price
Matt Lauer calls a woman into his office, locks the door via remote control under his desk, gets her to remove her blouse, then sexually assaults her from behind until she faints, and a nurse is summoned. Or that’s what I remember from the vivid and arresting account in the New York Times. The general direction of the article was that Lauer was summarily removed from his position on the Today show at NBC; though later a former NBC executive asserted that there were no complaints, rumors, or suggestions of sexual harassment while he had run the network. It’s fairly clear that there was a significant time lapse between the office assault and Lauer’s departure.
Lauer was not the first, and a search for such a first offender might lead us far back to Biblical examples. Bill Cosby, Harvey Weinstein, Louis C.K., Kevin Spacey, James Levine, Mark Halpern, Charlie Rose, Garrison Keillor, Al Franken, Roy Moore, John Conyers, Mario Batali, Ryan Lizza. This is, sadly, a brief list of our current rogue’s gallery of media, political, and culinary figures reduced to unemployment. Often three times a week a new name is added to the list. Or another victim of one of the previous names comes forward to tell his or her story. A constant din of commentary about what this process means, or reveals, or portends, continues to issue. This current piece is yet more evidence of the same pattern.
As I read the periodic, gripping, grueling, embarrassing, and frequently disgusting descriptions of what some women have had to endure, I feel great sympathy for them. Not only for the various and repeated forms of harassment, coercion, career threat they once experienced – but also for a long period of silent suffering and endurance and resentment that now has come pouring forth in various forms and forums.
At the furthest remove in some imaginary future, we will visit the halls of Congress and there will be only women. We will turn on our televisions, and experience the same. We will look for a restaurant to frequent but will only be able to choose pizza chains or McDonald’s. That’s a ridiculous fantasy, but not an impossible extension of what we are currently witnessing.
The process, however elongated, currently seems fairly simple. From three to eight, or occasionally more, victims come forward or are sought out by enterprising and informed reporters. An executive, or perhaps a board of directors, decides, and within a few days, frequently, the offending person has been removed, often so abruptly that, in media at least, coworkers are dumbfounded. That is what happens with media personalities – their creative life seems over. It’s a bit more complicated with political figures because, to some extent, they are the captains of their own souls: only the voters can, theoretically, definitively remove them – though several politicians, after days, or perhaps weeks, of continuing allegations or commentary or demands, have resigned. Roy Moore was eventually rejected by the voters, though hardly definitively. The restaurant figures have removed themselves temporarily from direct involvement with their several enterprises.
This is hardly an orderly or rigorous or perhaps even rational process. It is a version of the court of public opinion – vague, amorphous, fickle. It is not a court or a judicial proceeding. This causes some problems, since, despite the investigative skills of various reporters (triangulation, getting assertions verified in an appropriate time frame by the friends and relatives of these women; repetition, calculating the revelations against many other stories) and the sheer weight of the apparent evidence, the verdict and punishment in the cases in the private sector have been swift, decisive, and overwhelming. It is reasonable to ask whether these outcomes have been fair or just or proportionate. For example, compare the episode of Matt Lauer’s office rape, or Harvey Weinstein’s indelible pattern of coercion, sexual assault, and even rape, with – at least in a few other cases – the assertion that a particular person kissed a woman unwillingly ten years ago. I don’t think we’ve thought very hard about what we’re doing as a culture, perhaps because this short era of revelation and retribution has been so abrupt and, at least initially, satisfying. The process so far suggests that the sheer weight of repeated and similar accusations means we are reading or hearing the truth. There has been little suggestion that some accusers might be exaggerating, lying, or fabricating. Yet the relatively recent story of rapes at a University of Virginia fraternity was later exposed as pure fabrication, and the mass shaming and legal accusations of members of the Duke University lacrosse team suggest the possibility that not all accusations of sexual misbehavior should be taken at face value. It seems almost cruel or hypocritical or insensitive to suggest this possibility, but at some point it’s probably a concern.
Of course, it hasn’t escaped the attention of many writers, or the Democratic Party, that Donald Trump is still in office despite the various assertions of 15 women of a pattern of unwanted sexual aggression as well as his own taped bragging about grabbing “their pussies”; on the other hand, Al Franken is gone from the Senate after five, perhaps more, women have asserted his pattern of extended and inappropriate hugging and touching. Kirsten Gillibrand thinks Trump should be removed from the Presidency, but Trump has no senior executive or board of directors. He can only be removed through impeachment, death, resignation, or – apparently in certain never before observed cases — incapacity. The Constitution’s impeachment language mentions only treason or bribery, and high crimes and misdemeanors: “The President…shall be removed from Office on Impeachment for, and Conviction of, Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.” I think, on the whole, the Senate last century made the judgment about Bill Clinton, in his impeachment trial, that his lying under oath and his sexual peccadillos were too trivial to justify as historic event as impeachment of a President. Nevertheless, not too trivial for the Republicans to at least try. To mention Trump and Clinton in the same paragraph is to recognize that the whole topic of sexual misbehavior, harassment, and dismissal has been truncated, confused, conflated, shrunk.
Clinton never bragged to a public microphone about his sexual aggressiveness. To my view, the three key women, other than Hillary, involved with him, were quite different from those involved with Trump. Gennifer Flowers was a former flame that, as I remember it, was protesting that he abandoned her after a long adulterous affair; Monica Lewinsky was a naïve, vulnerable interne with daddy issues who made a pass at Clinton, kept pursuing him, and told her confidante that she expected Bill to desert Hillary and marry her. Paula Jones was sought out by and subsidized by Republican operatives and claimed Clinton made an unpleasant proposition to her. My memory is that the President settled with her without testifying in open court as to what actually happened. Given his pattern and her motives, I have doubts about that. These are the kinds of doubts that neither I nor Mitch McConnell – to name one in a long list of observers of a long list of sexual harassers – have about the accusers of Judge Roy Moore. McConnell said he believed them, and so do I – one of those few times recently when I agree with Mitch McConnell. But the range of these events over time, the relative credibility of witnesses, and the type of accusations have great variety. We could say that, in contrast to all the other accused perpetrators, Moore was tried in the court of public opinion – in this case by the voters of Alabama. Still the unpredictability of that “court” is significant, given that Moore lost by a slim margin, less than that of the write-in vote.
Bill Cosby’s experience was probably a harbinger of this phenomenon. It took longer in Cosby’s case, but gradually – as a certain number of his former victims reported to the press, lawyers, friends or the media – the pattern of his abuse became clear. (Much) younger women were invited to his home or where he was staying with varying promises or suggestions of career advancement, and they (apparently willingly) took a drug, which eventually incapacitated them, and then he used them sexually. The pattern was so evident, so nearly unvarying, and the number of victims so powerful that the public seemed to have little doubt of the veracity or seriousness of the accounts, and abruptly Cosby’s appearances as an entertainer, late in his career, became untenable and were canceled. Then, eventually, there were legal consequences, mostly in sealed judgments, and, until recently, no criminal trial. This seems to have set the template for all these later revelations, despite, of course, the preceding decades – not to mention centuries – when (usually) women have accused men of sexual mistreatment, often without any result or recourse.
Sex is a secret, powerful, and mysterious thing. We moralize about it, we legislate it, at times we try to use science to “improve” it, but at base and for the most part it remains an encounter, a relationship, or a contract between two human beings. By writing this, I want to make clear I claim no expertise or insight into this area of human contact. It’s remarkable how inept yet relentless the men were in pursuing the injured women (and sometimes men) – despite their obvious pain and suffering, – and how confused or mystified or at a loss the victims were about what to do. Apparently frequently, so also were secondary witnesses, such as human resources departments, executives, friends, spouses, lawyers, and the courts. In some cases, this causes one to wonder whether the secondary abetters or enablers, given occasional repeat appearances, don’t share dramatically in the guilt now focused on the perpetrators. As in the case of Matt Lauer, what did the nurse say or do, what about the staff in surrounding offices? Was this just par for the course? We want to make secure and morally informed and exacting judgments about sexual behavior, but we are often repeatedly baffled by its profusion, its multitudinous forms, and perhaps by the way it reflects on our own humanity and responsiveness. This is undoubtedly morally sad, as sex – as troubling and surprising, failed, and fumbled as it is over the course of human lives – in the best situations provides not only pleasure and relaxation but a true intimacy and comfort that most of us seek endlessly. And in the situations we are currently confronted with in all sorts of media, this dimension is distinctively missing.
We moralize about sex, and sometimes we seem ready to count its proper use equivalent to morality, as when whole cultures separate the sexes, or exact extreme penalties for sexual misbehavior (like the stoning of the prostitute in the New Testament). In politics at least, it used to be anathema to commit adultery or, in this country at least, for a man to have successive wives. So it was not until Ronald Reagan that someone could be elected President who had been divorced. When, during his first campaign, it was revealed that Bill Clinton had committed adultery during his marriage, he and Hillary went on television to reassure the American people of his decency as a person and the importance of their marriage, and he was elected President. Twice. Trump’s marital misbehavior (three wives, one alleged/withdrawn rape of a wife, one public affair while he remained married) was a minor aspect of accusations of his sexual malfeasance during the campaign, and no complaint, including those of sexual harassment by many women, was sufficient to put a significant dent in his numbers. In France, the whiff of adultery is so common that it is perhaps a requirement for public office, and the most recent former President (Hollande) was such a confirmed philanderer that he cheated secretly on his mistress, but this was not the reason he was unpopular and a one-term President.
Eventually we have learned that a number of our recent Presidents have had affairs while in office (F. D. Roosevelt, Kennedy, Clinton). And there was often “oppo” research against political opponents for news/rumors of adultery, but recently adultery seems to have been at least tolerated, if not accepted. However, see the cases of Gary Hart and Eliot Spitzer, neither of whom was accused of sexual harassment by their partners, and both of whom apparently proceeded in their promiscuity with the knowledge and acceptance of their wives; a recent book on adultery by a psychotherapist suggests we should not “blame” the “perpetrator,” nor sanctify the victim if we want to create a lasting, beneficial relationship. But sexual harassment is currently seen as a graver and clearer crime and, so far at least, one Senator has resigned, and several Congressmen are in the midst of being edged/urged out of office. But this has all occurred without any agreed-on process, or any civil or criminal proceeding, merely the accumulation of a critical mass of complaints. In this “process” there is the alleged policy of Zero Tolerance – virtually no form of male-female sexual interaction is acceptable or tolerated where the female party has inferior power or declares it was unwanted. There are no shades of acceptance or minor penalties, or suggestions for rehabilitation. In the media sphere, where single figures, executives, or boards, can make the decision, retribution has been even more swift and absolute, with figures such as Harvey Weinstein, Charlie Rose, Garrison Keillor, Matt Lauer, Mark Halperin, and Kevin Spacey removed within days of significant accusations, the last even scrubbed from a film that was virtually finished. Little sympathy was offered for these tarred figures, and moral and judicial justifications don’t seem to have been offered either.
In the realm of politics, attacking someone for sexual misbehavior in the past was a shortcut to unseating an opponent who might otherwise have appeared formidable. In the case of the Clinton presidency, many of his supporters felt politics rather than law or even very clear morality was behind his extended prosecution leading to an impeachment trial. Some of Roy Moore’s supporters seem to have convinced themselves that the charges of harassing underage women were old enough and promulgated by political opponents in such a way as to be suspect. This process of political attack is some (admittedly warped) version of the argument ad hominem: a classical form of argumentative fallacy in which one attacks the opponent (the man) rather that his ideas. However, in electing a political figure, rather than enacting a law or voting for or approving a policy, we are choosing a human being, subject to various behaviors and flaws, and character is a reasonable issue to consider. Nevertheless, sex is so inflammatory that it tends to transcend or sublimate argument. One could argue that in the cases of most of these figures, their sexual behavior was not particularly germane to their power or their positions. There have been some arguments that, for example, Halperin and Lauer mistreated Hillary during the campaign and were indifferent to Donald Trump’s major failings; but these public antifeminist behaviors weren’t characteristic of Charlie Rose or Garrison Keillor.
In the case of Clarence Thomas, however, perhaps the sexual harassment alleged by Anita Hill is germane, as he at the time was head of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, supposedly charged with treating women (and other discriminated-against groups) equally and policing sexual harassment in the workplace. When Thomas passed the tests offered by the Judiciary Committee and won the Senate vote (52-48) by a slim majority, he became a Supreme Court Justice, often passing judgments on matters relating to sexual harassment. Nevertheless, at an earlier time in our public education about sexual harassment, Thomas at least had, if not a trial, a serious public hearing where he confronted his accuser. But in addition to Anita Hill, there were several other women who were willing to testify against him but whom the Judiciary Committee elected not to hear; since then, at least one woman has come forward to accuse Justice Thomas of grabbing her buttocks repeated times at a party at his home.
None of the discussion so far tries to address the cultural valuation and status of figures who have been dishonored or removed. We won’t see Kevin Spacey in the new film about J. Paul Getty (but it wouldn’t surprise me if the Spacey version resurfaces in theatres in a few years to be sold as “the authentic or original version”). We can’t watch Charlie Rose on TV anymore; he used to be on regularly five nights a week for an hour. We won’t see any new Harvey Weinstein films. There is even an app out to help the concerned viewer identify media tainted by association with an artist or producer accused of sexual harassment*. Perhaps only to me, this seems draconian, perhaps a defiance of reason. When I go to the Museum of Modern Art, or other museums around the world, and see paintings and sculptures by Degas, I do not turn away, nor do I think immediately “he was an anti-Semite” (though he was, and a noteworthy opponent of Dreyfus in that famous episode of French life). I enjoy his art. It would be hard for me to make a case for racism in his artwork.
A later artist, Ezra Pound, was also anti-Semitic and a supporter of Mussolini in World War II, and several of his poems overtly articulate this, as did a number of his broadcasts from Rome Radio, in English, during World War II. In this case, his prejudices have infected his work, but only in the select cases. I still feel moved both by the majority of his poems, some of his prose works, and his devotion to art and artists, in either discovery, aid, or promotion – artists such as T.S. Eliot, James Joyce, Ernest Hemingway, Robert Frost. When Pound was awarded the Bollingen Prize for Poetry (an American-sponsored award) in 1948 for his Pisan Cantos, he had already been accused of treason and incarcerated in St. Elizabeth’s hospital in Washington, D.C. for mental illness – just as John Hinckley later was. There was a great outcry about the inappropriateness of the award. Yet Pound’s place in poetry, or history, or American life, was not erased from view or knowledge. It remains up to each reader to decide how to view him. I concede that neither of these figures was accused of sexual harassment or aggression.
Perhaps this context of art in relation to moral and political malfeasance and harassment suggests a “gentler” time in terms of retribution. I think it merely reminds us of the possibility of a range of consequences and judgments. The current round of public exposures and near-immediate dismissals is probably inevitable, but it has yet to account for a range of judgments or transgressions: the current standard seems zero-tolerance.
There still remains that opening tale of Matt Lauer in the office, the grim reality of what, now, perhaps hundreds of women have had to endure. Even reading about it, virtually daily, in the newspaper has become a grueling experience – this morning it was the resignation of a long-term judge of the Federal 9th Circuit Court of Appeals. Some days reading the newspaper feels like being bathed in shit. We read of men asking to masturbate in front of women they barely know, of men suddenly appearing naked in public rooms, or showing their penises. One pattern that emerges, for me at least, is that it’s sad to believe these men were unaware of the unwelcoming feelings they generated in the women who are accusing them. It almost makes one kind of wonder what society they grew up in where they thought a voluntary introduction of their penis on a first date was a coy move. The stories tend to reveal patterns or methodologies, as in Harvey Weinstein’s invitation to a hotel room for a business discussion and drink, his taking a shower or bath, his offering an unwanted massage. It’s sad to think that so many of these men – wealthy, educated, articulate, even a few arguably attractive – were so weak and vulnerable that their “means” of “seduction” were so assaultive and inappropriate and unappealing. Often their latter-day apologies suggest how radically insensitive and unperceptive they were. It’s not that I’m suggesting that all each man needed was therapy or a better socialization process, but that most of them have a hole in their thinking as well as in their self-perception.
Also not included so far in the long roll of publicly identified and vilified sexual harassers are some serial pedophile priests, and their protectors among archbishops and cardinals. To date, no woman has suffered the public revelation and dismissal visited entirely on men; it is hard to believe there are no women in power guilty of such transgressions.
Many of us are excited by this moment in American culture, and some suggest that a key corner has been turned in the interrelation of the sexes. I wouldn’t go so fast or be so sure; I worry about unforeseen consequences to come and the complexities of the future.
_______________
* [Editor’s note: We were unable to identify the app.]
Matt Lauer calls a woman into his office, locks the door via remote control under his desk, gets her to remove her blouse, then sexually assaults her from behind until she faints, and a nurse is summoned. Or that’s what I remember from the vivid and arresting account in the New York Times. The general direction of the article was that Lauer was summarily removed from his position on the Today show at NBC; though later a former NBC executive asserted that there were no complaints, rumors, or suggestions of sexual harassment while he had run the network. It’s fairly clear that there was a significant time lapse between the office assault and Lauer’s departure.
Lauer was not the first, and a search for such a first offender might lead us far back to Biblical examples. Bill Cosby, Harvey Weinstein, Louis C.K., Kevin Spacey, James Levine, Mark Halpern, Charlie Rose, Garrison Keillor, Al Franken, Roy Moore, John Conyers, Mario Batali, Ryan Lizza. This is, sadly, a brief list of our current rogue’s gallery of media, political, and culinary figures reduced to unemployment. Often three times a week a new name is added to the list. Or another victim of one of the previous names comes forward to tell his or her story. A constant din of commentary about what this process means, or reveals, or portends, continues to issue. This current piece is yet more evidence of the same pattern.
As I read the periodic, gripping, grueling, embarrassing, and frequently disgusting descriptions of what some women have had to endure, I feel great sympathy for them. Not only for the various and repeated forms of harassment, coercion, career threat they once experienced – but also for a long period of silent suffering and endurance and resentment that now has come pouring forth in various forms and forums.
At the furthest remove in some imaginary future, we will visit the halls of Congress and there will be only women. We will turn on our televisions, and experience the same. We will look for a restaurant to frequent but will only be able to choose pizza chains or McDonald’s. That’s a ridiculous fantasy, but not an impossible extension of what we are currently witnessing.
The process, however elongated, currently seems fairly simple. From three to eight, or occasionally more, victims come forward or are sought out by enterprising and informed reporters. An executive, or perhaps a board of directors, decides, and within a few days, frequently, the offending person has been removed, often so abruptly that, in media at least, coworkers are dumbfounded. That is what happens with media personalities – their creative life seems over. It’s a bit more complicated with political figures because, to some extent, they are the captains of their own souls: only the voters can, theoretically, definitively remove them – though several politicians, after days, or perhaps weeks, of continuing allegations or commentary or demands, have resigned. Roy Moore was eventually rejected by the voters, though hardly definitively. The restaurant figures have removed themselves temporarily from direct involvement with their several enterprises.
This is hardly an orderly or rigorous or perhaps even rational process. It is a version of the court of public opinion – vague, amorphous, fickle. It is not a court or a judicial proceeding. This causes some problems, since, despite the investigative skills of various reporters (triangulation, getting assertions verified in an appropriate time frame by the friends and relatives of these women; repetition, calculating the revelations against many other stories) and the sheer weight of the apparent evidence, the verdict and punishment in the cases in the private sector have been swift, decisive, and overwhelming. It is reasonable to ask whether these outcomes have been fair or just or proportionate. For example, compare the episode of Matt Lauer’s office rape, or Harvey Weinstein’s indelible pattern of coercion, sexual assault, and even rape, with – at least in a few other cases – the assertion that a particular person kissed a woman unwillingly ten years ago. I don’t think we’ve thought very hard about what we’re doing as a culture, perhaps because this short era of revelation and retribution has been so abrupt and, at least initially, satisfying. The process so far suggests that the sheer weight of repeated and similar accusations means we are reading or hearing the truth. There has been little suggestion that some accusers might be exaggerating, lying, or fabricating. Yet the relatively recent story of rapes at a University of Virginia fraternity was later exposed as pure fabrication, and the mass shaming and legal accusations of members of the Duke University lacrosse team suggest the possibility that not all accusations of sexual misbehavior should be taken at face value. It seems almost cruel or hypocritical or insensitive to suggest this possibility, but at some point it’s probably a concern.
Of course, it hasn’t escaped the attention of many writers, or the Democratic Party, that Donald Trump is still in office despite the various assertions of 15 women of a pattern of unwanted sexual aggression as well as his own taped bragging about grabbing “their pussies”; on the other hand, Al Franken is gone from the Senate after five, perhaps more, women have asserted his pattern of extended and inappropriate hugging and touching. Kirsten Gillibrand thinks Trump should be removed from the Presidency, but Trump has no senior executive or board of directors. He can only be removed through impeachment, death, resignation, or – apparently in certain never before observed cases — incapacity. The Constitution’s impeachment language mentions only treason or bribery, and high crimes and misdemeanors: “The President…shall be removed from Office on Impeachment for, and Conviction of, Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.” I think, on the whole, the Senate last century made the judgment about Bill Clinton, in his impeachment trial, that his lying under oath and his sexual peccadillos were too trivial to justify as historic event as impeachment of a President. Nevertheless, not too trivial for the Republicans to at least try. To mention Trump and Clinton in the same paragraph is to recognize that the whole topic of sexual misbehavior, harassment, and dismissal has been truncated, confused, conflated, shrunk.
Clinton never bragged to a public microphone about his sexual aggressiveness. To my view, the three key women, other than Hillary, involved with him, were quite different from those involved with Trump. Gennifer Flowers was a former flame that, as I remember it, was protesting that he abandoned her after a long adulterous affair; Monica Lewinsky was a naïve, vulnerable interne with daddy issues who made a pass at Clinton, kept pursuing him, and told her confidante that she expected Bill to desert Hillary and marry her. Paula Jones was sought out by and subsidized by Republican operatives and claimed Clinton made an unpleasant proposition to her. My memory is that the President settled with her without testifying in open court as to what actually happened. Given his pattern and her motives, I have doubts about that. These are the kinds of doubts that neither I nor Mitch McConnell – to name one in a long list of observers of a long list of sexual harassers – have about the accusers of Judge Roy Moore. McConnell said he believed them, and so do I – one of those few times recently when I agree with Mitch McConnell. But the range of these events over time, the relative credibility of witnesses, and the type of accusations have great variety. We could say that, in contrast to all the other accused perpetrators, Moore was tried in the court of public opinion – in this case by the voters of Alabama. Still the unpredictability of that “court” is significant, given that Moore lost by a slim margin, less than that of the write-in vote.
Bill Cosby’s experience was probably a harbinger of this phenomenon. It took longer in Cosby’s case, but gradually – as a certain number of his former victims reported to the press, lawyers, friends or the media – the pattern of his abuse became clear. (Much) younger women were invited to his home or where he was staying with varying promises or suggestions of career advancement, and they (apparently willingly) took a drug, which eventually incapacitated them, and then he used them sexually. The pattern was so evident, so nearly unvarying, and the number of victims so powerful that the public seemed to have little doubt of the veracity or seriousness of the accounts, and abruptly Cosby’s appearances as an entertainer, late in his career, became untenable and were canceled. Then, eventually, there were legal consequences, mostly in sealed judgments, and, until recently, no criminal trial. This seems to have set the template for all these later revelations, despite, of course, the preceding decades – not to mention centuries – when (usually) women have accused men of sexual mistreatment, often without any result or recourse.
Sex is a secret, powerful, and mysterious thing. We moralize about it, we legislate it, at times we try to use science to “improve” it, but at base and for the most part it remains an encounter, a relationship, or a contract between two human beings. By writing this, I want to make clear I claim no expertise or insight into this area of human contact. It’s remarkable how inept yet relentless the men were in pursuing the injured women (and sometimes men) – despite their obvious pain and suffering, – and how confused or mystified or at a loss the victims were about what to do. Apparently frequently, so also were secondary witnesses, such as human resources departments, executives, friends, spouses, lawyers, and the courts. In some cases, this causes one to wonder whether the secondary abetters or enablers, given occasional repeat appearances, don’t share dramatically in the guilt now focused on the perpetrators. As in the case of Matt Lauer, what did the nurse say or do, what about the staff in surrounding offices? Was this just par for the course? We want to make secure and morally informed and exacting judgments about sexual behavior, but we are often repeatedly baffled by its profusion, its multitudinous forms, and perhaps by the way it reflects on our own humanity and responsiveness. This is undoubtedly morally sad, as sex – as troubling and surprising, failed, and fumbled as it is over the course of human lives – in the best situations provides not only pleasure and relaxation but a true intimacy and comfort that most of us seek endlessly. And in the situations we are currently confronted with in all sorts of media, this dimension is distinctively missing.
We moralize about sex, and sometimes we seem ready to count its proper use equivalent to morality, as when whole cultures separate the sexes, or exact extreme penalties for sexual misbehavior (like the stoning of the prostitute in the New Testament). In politics at least, it used to be anathema to commit adultery or, in this country at least, for a man to have successive wives. So it was not until Ronald Reagan that someone could be elected President who had been divorced. When, during his first campaign, it was revealed that Bill Clinton had committed adultery during his marriage, he and Hillary went on television to reassure the American people of his decency as a person and the importance of their marriage, and he was elected President. Twice. Trump’s marital misbehavior (three wives, one alleged/withdrawn rape of a wife, one public affair while he remained married) was a minor aspect of accusations of his sexual malfeasance during the campaign, and no complaint, including those of sexual harassment by many women, was sufficient to put a significant dent in his numbers. In France, the whiff of adultery is so common that it is perhaps a requirement for public office, and the most recent former President (Hollande) was such a confirmed philanderer that he cheated secretly on his mistress, but this was not the reason he was unpopular and a one-term President.
Eventually we have learned that a number of our recent Presidents have had affairs while in office (F. D. Roosevelt, Kennedy, Clinton). And there was often “oppo” research against political opponents for news/rumors of adultery, but recently adultery seems to have been at least tolerated, if not accepted. However, see the cases of Gary Hart and Eliot Spitzer, neither of whom was accused of sexual harassment by their partners, and both of whom apparently proceeded in their promiscuity with the knowledge and acceptance of their wives; a recent book on adultery by a psychotherapist suggests we should not “blame” the “perpetrator,” nor sanctify the victim if we want to create a lasting, beneficial relationship. But sexual harassment is currently seen as a graver and clearer crime and, so far at least, one Senator has resigned, and several Congressmen are in the midst of being edged/urged out of office. But this has all occurred without any agreed-on process, or any civil or criminal proceeding, merely the accumulation of a critical mass of complaints. In this “process” there is the alleged policy of Zero Tolerance – virtually no form of male-female sexual interaction is acceptable or tolerated where the female party has inferior power or declares it was unwanted. There are no shades of acceptance or minor penalties, or suggestions for rehabilitation. In the media sphere, where single figures, executives, or boards, can make the decision, retribution has been even more swift and absolute, with figures such as Harvey Weinstein, Charlie Rose, Garrison Keillor, Matt Lauer, Mark Halperin, and Kevin Spacey removed within days of significant accusations, the last even scrubbed from a film that was virtually finished. Little sympathy was offered for these tarred figures, and moral and judicial justifications don’t seem to have been offered either.
In the realm of politics, attacking someone for sexual misbehavior in the past was a shortcut to unseating an opponent who might otherwise have appeared formidable. In the case of the Clinton presidency, many of his supporters felt politics rather than law or even very clear morality was behind his extended prosecution leading to an impeachment trial. Some of Roy Moore’s supporters seem to have convinced themselves that the charges of harassing underage women were old enough and promulgated by political opponents in such a way as to be suspect. This process of political attack is some (admittedly warped) version of the argument ad hominem: a classical form of argumentative fallacy in which one attacks the opponent (the man) rather that his ideas. However, in electing a political figure, rather than enacting a law or voting for or approving a policy, we are choosing a human being, subject to various behaviors and flaws, and character is a reasonable issue to consider. Nevertheless, sex is so inflammatory that it tends to transcend or sublimate argument. One could argue that in the cases of most of these figures, their sexual behavior was not particularly germane to their power or their positions. There have been some arguments that, for example, Halperin and Lauer mistreated Hillary during the campaign and were indifferent to Donald Trump’s major failings; but these public antifeminist behaviors weren’t characteristic of Charlie Rose or Garrison Keillor.
In the case of Clarence Thomas, however, perhaps the sexual harassment alleged by Anita Hill is germane, as he at the time was head of the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, supposedly charged with treating women (and other discriminated-against groups) equally and policing sexual harassment in the workplace. When Thomas passed the tests offered by the Judiciary Committee and won the Senate vote (52-48) by a slim majority, he became a Supreme Court Justice, often passing judgments on matters relating to sexual harassment. Nevertheless, at an earlier time in our public education about sexual harassment, Thomas at least had, if not a trial, a serious public hearing where he confronted his accuser. But in addition to Anita Hill, there were several other women who were willing to testify against him but whom the Judiciary Committee elected not to hear; since then, at least one woman has come forward to accuse Justice Thomas of grabbing her buttocks repeated times at a party at his home.
None of the discussion so far tries to address the cultural valuation and status of figures who have been dishonored or removed. We won’t see Kevin Spacey in the new film about J. Paul Getty (but it wouldn’t surprise me if the Spacey version resurfaces in theatres in a few years to be sold as “the authentic or original version”). We can’t watch Charlie Rose on TV anymore; he used to be on regularly five nights a week for an hour. We won’t see any new Harvey Weinstein films. There is even an app out to help the concerned viewer identify media tainted by association with an artist or producer accused of sexual harassment*. Perhaps only to me, this seems draconian, perhaps a defiance of reason. When I go to the Museum of Modern Art, or other museums around the world, and see paintings and sculptures by Degas, I do not turn away, nor do I think immediately “he was an anti-Semite” (though he was, and a noteworthy opponent of Dreyfus in that famous episode of French life). I enjoy his art. It would be hard for me to make a case for racism in his artwork.
A later artist, Ezra Pound, was also anti-Semitic and a supporter of Mussolini in World War II, and several of his poems overtly articulate this, as did a number of his broadcasts from Rome Radio, in English, during World War II. In this case, his prejudices have infected his work, but only in the select cases. I still feel moved both by the majority of his poems, some of his prose works, and his devotion to art and artists, in either discovery, aid, or promotion – artists such as T.S. Eliot, James Joyce, Ernest Hemingway, Robert Frost. When Pound was awarded the Bollingen Prize for Poetry (an American-sponsored award) in 1948 for his Pisan Cantos, he had already been accused of treason and incarcerated in St. Elizabeth’s hospital in Washington, D.C. for mental illness – just as John Hinckley later was. There was a great outcry about the inappropriateness of the award. Yet Pound’s place in poetry, or history, or American life, was not erased from view or knowledge. It remains up to each reader to decide how to view him. I concede that neither of these figures was accused of sexual harassment or aggression.
Perhaps this context of art in relation to moral and political malfeasance and harassment suggests a “gentler” time in terms of retribution. I think it merely reminds us of the possibility of a range of consequences and judgments. The current round of public exposures and near-immediate dismissals is probably inevitable, but it has yet to account for a range of judgments or transgressions: the current standard seems zero-tolerance.
There still remains that opening tale of Matt Lauer in the office, the grim reality of what, now, perhaps hundreds of women have had to endure. Even reading about it, virtually daily, in the newspaper has become a grueling experience – this morning it was the resignation of a long-term judge of the Federal 9th Circuit Court of Appeals. Some days reading the newspaper feels like being bathed in shit. We read of men asking to masturbate in front of women they barely know, of men suddenly appearing naked in public rooms, or showing their penises. One pattern that emerges, for me at least, is that it’s sad to believe these men were unaware of the unwelcoming feelings they generated in the women who are accusing them. It almost makes one kind of wonder what society they grew up in where they thought a voluntary introduction of their penis on a first date was a coy move. The stories tend to reveal patterns or methodologies, as in Harvey Weinstein’s invitation to a hotel room for a business discussion and drink, his taking a shower or bath, his offering an unwanted massage. It’s sad to think that so many of these men – wealthy, educated, articulate, even a few arguably attractive – were so weak and vulnerable that their “means” of “seduction” were so assaultive and inappropriate and unappealing. Often their latter-day apologies suggest how radically insensitive and unperceptive they were. It’s not that I’m suggesting that all each man needed was therapy or a better socialization process, but that most of them have a hole in their thinking as well as in their self-perception.
Also not included so far in the long roll of publicly identified and vilified sexual harassers are some serial pedophile priests, and their protectors among archbishops and cardinals. To date, no woman has suffered the public revelation and dismissal visited entirely on men; it is hard to believe there are no women in power guilty of such transgressions.
Many of us are excited by this moment in American culture, and some suggest that a key corner has been turned in the interrelation of the sexes. I wouldn’t go so fast or be so sure; I worry about unforeseen consequences to come and the complexities of the future.
_______________
* [Editor’s note: We were unable to identify the app.]
Copyright © 2017 by Jonathan Price |
Thank you, Jonathan, for casting your observant eye across the years of sexual misconduct, surveying some of the professions involved, reviewing the range of standards of tolerance.
ReplyDeleteThis comment was on the initial, premature publication of the piece, before its author had revised and shaped it around the theme of “sex and the court of public opinion.”
DeleteJon, bravo! Moristotle & Co. is honored to be able to bring thoughtful writing of this caliber to the world. I'm only sorry (for you) that your piece isn't being published in the New Yorker of The Atlantic. It deserves to be.
ReplyDeletei thought it was great and thoughtful the first time. I still think that (ok, i skimmed this time...the lazy sister). It is hard to imagine, "uh, what was he thinking?, glad a man tried to imagine...and couldn't quite get there. Because it is a mystery. And yes, there is a lot more and yes, there will be unintended consequences. And i dont know the future. Thanks for trying to clarify, Jon.
ReplyDeleteSince Jon “couldn’t quite get there [to imagine what one of the named men was thinking],” I guess we would need to hear from some of these men – assuming they would be candid and have the self-awareness to even know themselves!
DeleteI like the broad, yet very specific, historical context you give to the topic. Seemingly wide-ranging, yet razor-focused. Closely-argued, authoritative. I especially appreciated your discussion of Degas and Pound in reference to how our cultural proximity to these fallen celebrities might shift, if at all, in light of new knowledge about them. My biggest struggle is with Dustin Hoffman. Watching one of his movies now feels like a sign of disrespect toward women now that I’ve heard how he treated them.
ReplyDeleteIs the “outing” process moving too fast, faster than a reasonable standard protocol can be defined and broadly accepted? Is it too media driven? Are men being targeted or denied due process? These are areas for continued monitoring and discussion. Meanwhile I think we need to keep listening to, and make sure we’re really hearing, the stories that are coming out. With very few exceptions, these women (and men) aren’t looking for attention, for a celebration of their bravery in speaking out. They’re after actual change, even if mistakes are made along the way, even if certain nuances seem to be missed or ignored. So yes, I think you are right to examine with a critical eye the way this movement is unfolding. I’m just happy to see that it IS unfolding at all.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Neophyte, for reading the article with such care and concern. I agree with all your reactions. Certainly, we should take all the comments we have read from women with respect, deep concern, admiration for their courage and willingness, in some cases, to shed the veil of privacy and pain for potential publicity. And change in the broad processes of sexual harassment, antagonism, manipulation of women in various venues is or, would be, an undoubtedly good thing. I worry a bit about the summary judgment and abruptness and lack of due process which yields, perhaps, dramatic emotional satisfaction and fulfillment — but, in some cases, I suspect, will substitute for real transformation or reform. I worry that, say, 10 years from now, we may unearth many similar cases of mistreatment that we had been led to believe would be impossible in the new environment. I also suspect that required hours of sexual harassment training at various organizations will not substitute for a more thoughtful or carefully calibrated series of changes.
ReplyDeleteSorry, but I can’t confess to worrying about wincing at, say, watching Dustin Hoffman again in, e.g., The Graduate, one of my favorite films and one which I’ve taught numerous times and which has, at least recently, been hailed as an iconic change-marker for several generations. I make an honest attempt, or so I convince myself, to separate the artist or creator from the private (?) person or personality. Because, to me at least, the cultural contributions of many of these figures seem indelible, real, and — to some extent — in themselves, unassailable. Which is not to say we should forgive, ignore, or overlook the transgressions of so many of these figures in recognizing their contributions. Ezra Pound was a wonderful, innovative, imaginative poet a good part of his life before — and even after — broadcasting for Mussolini. He was an embarrassingly ill-informed and wrongheaded judge of economics, morally inept and naive in his admiration for Mussolini and clearly antisemitic (as were T.S. Eliot, e.e. cummings, perhaps Ernest Hemingway and Adolph Hitler), and gravely stupid and immoral in his broadcasts for Rome Radio. I still don’t believe he deserved to be imprisoned in a cage outdoors at Pisa for his crimes, nor to be accused of treason. He arguably was a good candidate for the Bollingen Prize in 1948, though Karl Shapiro and others protested vociferously. Many disagree virulently with my opinions here.
Nevertheless I suggest if we had a prize-winning and ground-breaking physicist who changed irrevocably the nature of the universe (or our understanding of same), it would be pretty stupid to reject his ideas because there was something radically flawed about his character. I suppose one could argue that art and politics are not the same as our understanding of physical reality. I just think we should give human beings credit for what they do well, and address their faults or crimes with appropriate punishments; and be able to distinguish these two realms.
To try to return, at least for the moment, to the point at issue: of course there are so many films out there to watch that we don’t have to give up this pleasure or its insight just because we find one artist or performer (e.g., Kevin Spacey, Dustin Hoffman) guilty of egregious misbehavior.