Women who experience sexual and physical violence are often criticized for delays in reporting. But if institutional inaction and underhandedness are more common responses than not when women do report, then why would they?
As the daughter of a more traditional Asian family, I am no stranger to smug comparisons between patriarchy in Asian cultures and Western progressivism. I recall my college professor saying: “Luckily, we’re not in China, where they just throw away all the girls.”
Admittedly, we have strongly patriarchal tendencies in both China and India, where my forebears lived. Still, the patriarchy is just as alive in the United States as it is in Asia. Western devaluation of women is insidious and entrenched in our societal institutions.
Former Manhattan District Attorney Cyrus Vance’s opinion piece in The New York Times on Harvey Weinstein’s appeal offers an excellent opportunity to interrogate the larger systems in the U.S. that enable violence against women. In it, Vance called for legislative changes allowing uncharged allegations of sexual misconduct to be considered in adjudicating sex crimes, citing California law as an example.
I found his piece compelling and made a similar case based on my clinical experience as a physician, using patterns of behavior to inform my assessments of patients.
But Vance’s article, ostensibly positioning himself as an ally to survivors, excluded a critical piece of the story: his decision not to press charges against Weinstein in 2015 after Ambra Battilana Gutierrez presented a recording of Weinstein admitting to groping her breast.
In August 2015, Vance faced criticism for accepting a $10,000 donation from David Boies, an attorney for Weinstein. Vance denied any connection between the donation and his 2015 refusal to prosecute.
Sexual assault survivors aren’t buying Vance’s purported progressivism. Marissa Hoechstetter—a prominent voice against misconduct by former Columbia University OB-GYN and convicted sexual predator, Robert Hadden—made her thoughts unequivocally clear:
At the time, Vance defended his decision, stating that he could not successfully prove criminal intent in Gutierrez’s case, even with the audio recording of Weinstein acknowledging the assault. (I remain confused about what other intent there could be when a man in a position of power lunges for a young woman’s breasts and reaches under her skirt without consent.)
Hoechstetter previously alleged that Vance’s office misled her about the statute of limitations in Hadden’s case when she brought forth complaints of sexual assault against him, adding that Vance’s office was already negotiating a plea deal with Hadden while she was talking to prosecutors about testifying against him.
In 2020, the Associated Press reported Vance’s history of being relatively soft on sexual violence, including Hoechstetter’s account:
“She initially felt relief sitting in court watching Hadden plead guilty, but realized after reading the agreement that prosecutors agreed not to charge him with any other crimes they were aware of—including the ones she said he committed against her.” (Emphasis added.)
Given Vance’s reported pattern in managing these cases of sexual violence, it is difficult not to interpret his current public opinions as saving face amidst cultural upheaval that has finally recognized decades of abuses against women, rather than a genuine effort to protect vulnerable women against male violence.
I’m acutely familiar with institutional betrayal; as the Weinstein case snowballed, my alma mater, Dartmouth College, contemporaneously made national news for similarly appalling reasons. Three neuroscience professors, Bill Kelley, Paul Whalen and Todd Heatherton, allegedly engaged in predatory patterns of behavior ranging from puerile frat-boy antics in professional settings (not inconsistent with Dartmouth’s culture—we’re the inspiration for the 1978 film, Animal House) to rape.
The plaintiffs in the subsequent lawsuit, which Dartmouth settled for $14.4 million, alleged that the Department of Psychological and Brain Sciences knew about the professors’ abuses for 16 years, but did not protect their victims. In fact, some of the alleged instances of rape occurred after Title IX complaints about the professors were filed. It was reported that Dartmouth “unilaterally terminated the disciplinary process” and enabled a culture of predation and retaliation, expecting the women to tolerate sexual misconduct and leveraging their careers if they resisted.
I’ll say this much: Knowing the culture at Dartmouth, I was wholly unsurprised when its deliberate exercise in institutional betrayal became public. I have minimal confidence in Dartmouth’s ability to improve in earnest. I find their motto, “A voice of one crying out in the wilderness,” profoundly apt and remain ashamed of the college’s sinister complicity with violence against women.
Vance’s belief that changing the law around trying sex crimes is necessary to combat sexual violence successfully is valuable. The judiciary can only operate within the confines of the law. Within that framing, ire directed at the New York State Court of Appeals is cathartic but unproductive. But that’s only part of it.
First of all, a sincere acknowledgment of the harm done would go a long way.
Secondly, larger systems—law, medicine, higher education and so on—need to adhere to their professed ethics with more than trite lip service if we as a society are to combat violence against women. Holding predators accountable requires institutional courage, a lack of which these systems have repeatedly demonstrated. Moreover, circumventing responsibility as in the cases I outlined above, among other sneaky tactics, undermines victims and protects criminals.
Women who experience sexual and physical violence are often criticized for delays in reporting. But if institutional inaction and underhandedness are more common responses than not when women do report, then why would they?
These institutions must earn our trust. It is time to interrogate the systemic factors that perpetuate violence against women with the same cold scrutiny we afford victims. None of what I’m saying here is remotely novel, and it is highly disappointing that I and other women must continue to say it.
I’ll end a quote by British abolitionist William Wilberforce: “You may choose to look the other way, but you can never again say you did not know.”
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