#MeToo: Some Thoughts & Concerns

“If good people like George Takei get mistakenly swept up in the net of #MeToo, perhaps that’s a sacrifice they should be willing to make for the cause.” — Activist

Shane Snow, over at The Observer, published an exclusive in which he spoke with Scott Brunton, the individual who accused George Takei of inappropriate sexual advances. In it, Snow questions the veracity of Mr. Brunton’s claims, seeks expert advice from toxicologists, and learns from neuroscientists on the fallible nature of long term memory. Snow concludes that Mr. Brunton had walked about his accusations, and that ultimately his story had not remained consistent since first reporting them. Since Snow’s piece was published Mr. Brunton has come out and said he stands by his claim that he was taken advantage of by Takei.

But this piece isn’t about George Takei, Scott Brunton, or Shane Snow — it is about whether or not we should appropriate false accusations as being equivalent to sacrifices in the name of justice. I’m going to put the cart before the horse here and say that I disagree with this idea. The preservation and retention of justice should not be decided upon the martyrdom of innocent people. If we’re to believe that ‘good people’ should be sacrificial in the endeavor of other people to obtain justice, then activists all over will be forced to question not just their moral compasses, but also reevaluate their political positions.

“Mistakenly” or Irresponsibly?

The mistake is not that “good people” are “swept up in the net of #MeToo”. The mistake is the judgement that was immediately formed, and prescribed as fact. Mistake is defined as “ an action or judgment that is misguided or wrong.” I think it is ultimately irresponsible to suggest that “good people” should be “willing to sacrifice” themselves “for the cause” because such reasoning legitimizes perpetually bad judgments.

The conclusion from such logic is not increased awareness, but diminished credibility. Why should “good people” accept the consequences brought on by someone else’s bad judgement? It seems to me an unreasonable request to ask innocent people to accept false judgments of them and their character, especially when the end result is antithetical to the broader cause.

#MeToo does not need to remove itself from the burden of responsibility from the harm that they, or their supports and activists may inadvertently or otherwise create for someone. Suggesting that such harm should be a sacrifice someone is willing to make is nothing but a request to get away with doing inappropriate things, and saying inappropriate things.

Maybe what that activist said regarding “good people like George Takei” is that Takei is nearly a household name. He’s got wealth, fame, and a loyal fan base, so maybe he’s not got that much to lose. I think that it is wholly irresponsible to suggest that even wealthy and famous people should be sacrificial for the cause. If Takei has done nothing wrong (and I am not saying he has or has not), then he deserves to be treated with the same respect. No movement has a right to appropriate his status for any cause, or anyone else’s.

One of the most basic human rights is that a person is innocent until proven guilty. The 5th, 6th, and 14th Amendments have been deemed to codify this virtue. This value is further reiterated by the United Nations as a fundamental human right. I think what’s important for any movement seeking justice is that they retain those values, and rights. The consequences of ignoring them is that we end up saying right where we’re at — gross injustices committed but tightly packaged and stamped with a seal of approval. There’s nothing “just” about being hypocritical.

The Significance of False Reports (They’re Not Significant)

Let me be clear: false reports are rare and therefore not a widespread phenomenon. The myth that false reports are common place is a significant barrier behind why victims do not come forward.

RAINN, The Natonal Sexual Violence Resource Center (NSVRC), The National Center for the Prosecution of Violence Against Women (NCPVAW), Men Against Abuse Now (MAAN), and further reiterated in The Independent all point to the fact that since 1998 there have been more than 20 million victims of sexual assault in the United States— 90% being women. This is just for the United States.

False reports are rare, and no higher than other crimes, but the range is somewhere between 2–8% based on the more rigorous and scientifically stable analyses. When false reports are defined primarily by precinct policies and detectives these rates can go up to 40%, and even as high as 90%. This is a huge problem.

The numbers above inform us that there are 100 sexual assaults for every 100,000 people. When we control for the fact tat most victims are women, we find that for every 100,000 women, 198 of them will be a victim of sexual assault. These numbers skyrocket when we account for the fact that this crime is severely under reported, which places the rates anywhere between 300 per 100,000 people and 588 per 100,000 women.

The rate of false reporting is lower than our murder rate at 3 for every 100,000 people. If every sexual assault was reported to police, and false reports remained the same according to scientific studies, it would be as high as 12 per 100,000 people. That’s 650,000 to 1.1 million to 1.9 million to 5.4 million false reports.

Looking at both reported, and approximating thresholds based on the fact that these crimes are frequently not reported we can ascertain that sexual assault and rape occurs 32 to 66 times more frequently than false reports.

So what’s the point of me talking about an insignificant rate of false reports? The point is this: false reports might be rare, but the frequency of them does not mean that we should treat those people as sacrifices to a greater or “more just” cause. These are not mutually exclusive conclusions. We can agree that legitimate false reports are rare occurrences and that legitimate false reports are unacceptable. By agreeing to both we do not jettison our moral values, or create vacuums in which one group “deserves” justices over another, or that those who deserve justice should instead “sacrifice” themselves so that another group can finally receive it. Justice was never meant to be sacrificial in its endeavor.

My Story

I think it’s important to this narrative to explain that I am both a victim of abuse, and a victim of a falsely reported crime. I was a victim when I was 12. I was then accused of doing the same thing “as a joke” that spread around to my friends. This matter was handled as a “family matter,” but the conclusion of it all was that people that were my friends invariably believed the narrative that I sexually assaulted someone. No questions asked — I was branded.

Fast forward ten years later. I am completing a master’s degree program in mental health counseling, two-thirds of the way through my internship, and for all intents and purposes being a “good person.” Things were going well until I was arrested around midnight on one October night after I had been accused of stalking. I was released a few hours later, went home and prepared for work, only to get there and was immediately terminated because my supervisor checked the booking log every morning.

This false accusation didn’t just result in my termination of employment, but it set back my ability to complete my graduate degree by two years. Stalking is a serious crime that’s also treated by police as a non-issue. But it’s also a crime that would have permanently prevented me from ever becoming a licensed counselor. I didn’t just receive a restraining order against the person and their family, but I was also ordered not to be on the campus of my own university.

When I was arrested, I was demeaned. I was called a pig by the arresting officer, and told that “scumbags like” me are the reason there needed to be “cops like” them. The arresting officer then spoke to my brother and sister-in-law (who were there to post bail) and explained to them that they could “just tell” that I was “an abusive person” and a “womanizer” and that there was “no way” that I needed to be allowed to be on the streets. I need not go down the exhaustive list of insults that I received to explain that it was a terrible experience.

I understand that I am privileged because I am white, and I am male. Throughout my ordeal I was paralyzed by self-doubt, and questioning how I am to defend myself — against a fabrication — without it being perceived or an actual exercise in privilege. I spent copious amounts of time collecting phone records, retracing steps, getting accounts of day to day interactions, and the most extreme bit was hacking my own phone to get the content of iPhone messages because phone records only show timestamps and phone numbers.

The desperation that I experienced to prove my innocence ignored the fact that the burden of proof was on the accuser — not the accused. This is a fundamental human right, a moral value, and a legal right upheld in the United States since 1892. But it wasn’t my accuser’s reputation that was challenged — it was mine. My accuser was not suffering — I was.

By most people’s calculations, I was a good person, both in a basic and moral sense, but also because I was a card holding member of the social justice movement. Assuming other peoples’ calculations to be true, I struggle to see how me, as a presumed “good person”, should be willing to be sacrificed for any other cause.

I struggle to see how even if were to call my experience a “sacrifice” how that helped anyone, much less actual victims. From the time that I was arrested to the time that I got back home, there were at least 220 victims of sexual assault. From the time it took to get to work, get terminated, and defend myself against a workplace policy that I found unfair — there were 73 more victims of sexual assault. The legal component of my ordeal took 51 million seconds. Every 98 seconds someone is sexually assaulted. You do the math.

How is redefining my experience from wrongdoing to social martyrdom beneficial to the nearly 529,000 people that became victims during only the legal part of my experience? To repackage my experience as a sacrifice — rather than a wrongdoing — only justifies more wrongdoing. It’s an absurd notion, and it’s an absurd request.

Some Concerns

According to The Huffington Post there was a record number of exoneration in 2015. Per their reporting they indicate that there are somewhere in the range of 2–5% of prisoners who are incarcerated but innocent. That’s anywhere between 40,000 and 100,000 innocent people who have been deemed guilty by the judicial system. The average stay in prison for exonerated people is nearly 15 years. Are we to suggest that “perhaps that’s a sacrifice they should be willing to make for the cause” of reducing crime? Perhaps the 1 in 25 (or 4%) of individuals on death row that are innocent should accept their state sanctioned death as “true martyrdom” because “at least the other 96% were guilty.” But their loss of life, freedom, and armed robbery of their rights is an injustice.

Back in April (2018), Vox published a piece written by Anna North in which she addresses why women have concerns about #MeToo. Those reasons included concerns that men would be falsely accused more frequently, that women would be denied employment because men were afraid to work with women, and that less serious sexual harassment charges would be punished the same as worse sexual harassment charges.

I think the most concerning thing about this is the fact that these have been long held beliefs — particularly as it relates to false accusations. False reports aren’t common, or widespread. There will be a rate greater than 1% which means that with movements as public as MeToo is now, we’re likely to see in the media a few accusations made that aren’t legitimate. That’s a basic statistical likelihood.

Another concern that I have is the fact that women are concerned that guys feel that they “have to be more careful.” I would encourage you not to be concerned about this. If men are concerned that they’ll say something inappropriate, maybe they should second guess whether their comment is appropriate in the first place.

Even after I got back on my feet from a legitimate false accusation I wasn’t concerned that it would happen again — why? Because I’m not sleazy. I work in a field that is dominated by women. I never once felt that I had to watch what I say around any female colleagues, precisely because I recognize my place and my role. Also, because I’m not sleazy. We should be careful not to conflate “walking on eggshells” with finally reinforcing appropriate workplace boundaries and making sure that men who feel entitled to a woman’s body doesn’t act upon their faulty biases.

Final Thoughts

I understand that my experience is different than everyone else’s, and that it is only one myopic view to a very complex problem. I also understand that this was a long rant regarding one quote from one article that may well not be a widespread belief among activists. Shane Snow rightly pointed out that such a comment was debatable — so I’m debating it here.

I support #MeToo, and so should you. Its goals are important, and lives depend on movements such as this one to challenge long held traditions and privileges. #MeToo is doing what it needs to to get justice for those that haven’t for so long. In my opinion, their concern should be less about myths, and more about how they go about obtaining justice. If justice for one means trampling over the voices of the accused — even if there is a statistical chance at accuracy — then there’s a risk of robbing someone of their justice too.