When is Abuse a Public Matter?

Silence. It’s time for a national reckoning on being quiet about abuse.

Yes, I’m talking about the Epstein files and also the Swalwell/Gonzales/Mills of this world…I’m talking about all the horrors on display and the horrors yet to be revealed, but also so much more. These unconscionable messes have involved decades of abuse, heads of state, leaders of industry, politicians at every level, and likely thousands of victims. These reprehensible sagas, some of which may seem outside the Epstein-specific ugliness, are not different stories; they are related.

They all involve the dehumanization of women, greed, and power.

They involve secrets, lies, and silence.

They involve trauma inflicted on women.

The silence of the victims is understandable. I don’t fault any of them for even a nanosecond. We’ve seen what happened when women reported abuse. Those who spoke were dismissed as liars or manipulators, or whores. Those who attempted to bring justice were ignored, or their reports were hidden. Those who spoke were threatened, or their families were threatened. And some who spoke didn’t live to see the results of their courage. This isn’t about victims protecting themselves after trauma.

This is about everyone else who kept their knowledge and their suspicions to themselves.

Pick any of the men accused, named, suspected of, or known as an Epstein associate. I’ll go with Wexner as an example, as I’ve been to his property. Years ago, when I lived in Ohio, I attended a charity event held at what he calls The Barn. A luxe barn, no animals or hay or lawn equipment, that serves as party central when he and his wife, Abigail, want to host a few hundred friends. Now start thinking about how many individuals are in close proximity to that one man. And then start thinking about how many people could have seen or heard or suspected something awful.

Men in this realm have staff! Les isn’t exactly booking his own flights or hotels. He has people around him, security included, constantly. There are the executives and lawyers and money guys and the assistants, who make his business possible. There are board members and financial investors, personal and business advisors. There is staff to keep his multiple homes in order, drivers, caterers, groundskeepers, pilots, people who shop for him, and run his errands. All this before we even get to family, friends, and neighbors.

Men in this financial league are fans of NDAs, so it’s probable that anyone with a financial link can’t talk. Wexner’s housekeepers and drivers aren’t going to test the strength of that contract and go up against a billionaire by speaking to the New York Times. That doesn’t mean they don’t have knowledge. Lots of them likely have personal knowledge.

Now multiply that by every other man who’s also thought to be associated.

But what about the Swalwell’s and the Gonzales’s of the world? These guys aren’t having everyone around them sign keep-your-mouth-shut contracts. It’s been reported that the DC political rumor mill was rampant with ugly “open secrets,” but only after the fact did anyone not tied in become aware that these men were jackasses not fit to be around women.

My first question is, did no one think the rest of us needed to know?

At what point does someone’s “personal business” need to become “the public’s business?”

Perhaps when crimes are involved, or when elected officials or business leaders are skanky, or when women are physically being harmed?

Underneath every one of these horrid stories of abuse are people who knew what was happening or had enough information to be legitimately concerned. Yes, there is a fine line between rumor and proof. There is a fine line between “it’s none of my business” and “oh my god, I need to tell someone!” But every single one of these stories ends up in the same place: women being harmed because no one took the time to speak, or no one took their tepid reports seriously, or no one gave a damn that a woman was hurt.

When does morality, when does our sense of right and wrong over the treatment of others, make it our business to be loud?

That is on each and every one of us to grapple with. The question we must all ask is: have we contributed to someone else’s harm through our silence? What would we want done if we were the victim?