This October will mark two-years since details of the decades of sexual assault allegations against media mogul Harvey Weinstein became public. These allegations, first published in a New York Times exposé and then expanded on in the New Yorker, burst open the floodgates of our global discourse, prompting countless individuals to come forward about their own experiences with sexual assault, harassment, and rape. After the story broke, actress Alyssa Milano tweeted the phrase #MeToo – a reference to activist Tarana Burke’s movement, which aims to support survivors of sexual abuse – and a public reckoning began. It seemed, at this moment’s onset, that what had long been hidden, ignored, and quietly accepted as simply “the way things are,” had become untenable. Finally, there would be consequences for such abuse.
And while some did face these consequences – criminal investigations against Weinstein are still ongoing – others have, inexplicably, returned to the public limelight with stand-up shows, promotions, and even book deals. This phenomenon seems to fly in the face of the warnings issued by prominent critics of this reckoning over the last two years. Shortly after the conversation gained steam, journalists, actors, and public figures alike took to their platforms to warn about the possibility of the #MeToo movement turning into an unstoppable form of “mob justice.” Unchecked, they argued, this much needed cultural shift would inevitably turn into a Salem-esque witch hunt (the problematic irony of using this particular metaphor notwithstanding), where innocent men were lumped in with their criminal counterparts. In January of 2018, France’s Le Monde newspaper even went so far as to publish a letter signed by 100 women, which slammed the movement for allegedly persecuting men.
But if we are to believe that #MeToo is truly capable of being the dangerous force these critics claimed it would become, how do we account for the ease at which some of the alleged abusers have been welcomed back to society? It was recently reported that Mark Halperin, most notably accused of resting his penis on a female colleague’s shoulder, had signed a book deal comprised of interviews with more than 75 Democratic strategists. His publisher Judith Eagan, released a statement to Politico explaining that her choice to publish Halperin’s book relates to a belief “in the power of forgiveness, second chances, and offering a human being a path to redemption.” Since the accusations against him were made public, Halperin has also launched a website and made his return to the world of radio.
Similar trajectories can be seen again and again in cases of multiple men who, accused of sexual misconduct during the height of the #MeToo movement, have made surprisingly rapid returns to society. Since April 2018, journalist Moira Donegan has been documenting these instances in an ever-growing Twitter thread. While not every attempted return has panned out as of yet (Matt Lauer’s rumored comeback hasn’t materialized, nor has that of Charlie Rose), the rate at which these individuals have seemingly been forgiven is incompatible with the rate at which their alleged actions have immensely altered their victims’ lives.
Most of these men have, indeed, faced some form of consequence. However, it is the ease at which they have been welcomed – even cheered – back into society, that raises questions regarding how far the paradigm has truly shifted. If all it takes is a half-hearted apology and few months of silence before accused sexual abusers can have their careers rehabilitated, but the survivors of their abuse are offered little to no recourse for the impact said abuse had on their career paths, are we truly centering the right individuals in this discussion? The full cost of the scourge of sexual harassment and abuse in our society has yet to be determined. We don’t know the degree to which survivors have lost out on jobs as a result of the actions of their abusers (as seen in the case of Mira Sorvino and Ashley Judd) or how many individuals have chosen to leave their fields after being sexually harassed or assaulted, but given what we do know, it is likely that this has happened extensively.
Furthermore, there is a distinct danger found in the societal power still afforded to these men. Some have been offered opportunities to continue to shape the very narrative told about gender dynamics. Halperin, who once excused U. S. President Donald Trump’s history of allegedly assaulting women, has now, through his book deal, been offered the opportunity to once again impact the political analysis surrounding an election that will be, in part, a referendum against a credibly-accused sexual assaulter. Glenn Thrush, who was demoted at The New York Times after Vox published accusations that he made unwanted and inappropriate sexual advances to female journalists, has also returned to U.S. political coverage focusing on, “investigative pieces on the candidates and the campaign.” Can individuals who have admitted to mistreating women be trusted to adequately navigate the gendered lens through which this upcoming election, wherein a record number of women are running for President, will undoubtedly be seen?
None of this is to say that there shouldn’t be a pathway for these men to rehabilitate themselves and even potentially return to their career fields. In a 2017 interview with Elle, Burke described the need for a multilayered approach to accountability in this regard, that would include the dismantling of certain power structures. This offers space for rehabilitation, perhaps using principles of restorative justice to further the actual paradigm shift that is so crucially needed in how our society views sexual misconduct and gender dynamics.
The problem is that the current returns haven’t followed any true rehabilitation. What work have these men put in to help provide justice to those they wronged? Have they used their platform to educate others about why they acted the way they did and how we can break such cycles? Have they reconsidered their relationship to power and changed the way they wield it? Given how some have simply made jokes about their time away from the spotlight, there is clearly much more work to be done.
Until our society is willing to address these deeper issues – and interrogate the cultural environment that not only allows abusers to thrive, but opens arms to their returns – the question is not whether the #MeToo movement has gone too far, but rather whether it will ever be allowed to go far enough.
