THE most remarkable thing about Harvey Weinstein is that he is completely unremarkable.
If you have ever been a young woman making her way in the world, you will have had your own, personal Weinstein. That, or you will have sat one evening with a gin while your friend, another young woman making her way in the world, tells you about hers.
As scores of women come forward to detail how the Hollywood movie producer made inappropriate and unwanted sexual advances towards them, in response to which he has variously apologised and obfuscated, thousands more feel empathy born of parallel experience.
Weinstein’s profligacy is nothing special. These grim men are 10 a penny.
They need a young, female gaze to prove their potency and their worth. He sees you, a young woman who wants something - success - and he must subvert that want into a want for him. It doesn’t matter whether your gaze is friendly or confused or frightened, he’ll take it.
It’s an odd dichotomy. It takes a certain amount of confidence to be in the company of someone who cowers from you while still reading their discomfort as positive feedback. Yet it takes a certain level of insecurity to need the validation of a young woman’s interest.
Of course, a certain type of man, and Weinstein would appear to be among this number, gets his kicks of out that discomfort, that fear.
In a workplace, inappropriate behaviour can become normalised. Then, what are the benefits of speaking out? You may risk losing your career, you may become the butt of office gossip, you may be shunned. Oh God, what if you just misread the signals? Weinstein, to the New York Post, said: “In the past I used to compliment people, and some took it as me being sexual, I won’t do that again.”
Maybe that’s it, it’s a compliment. No one else seems to mind. The men laugh about it, the women roll their eyes. You, a young woman unsure, how can yours be the first voice to speak against this culture?
Besides, you really don’t want to offend anyone.
No one will believe you. You will be a troublemaker.
This time last year, exactly, we were disgusted by the release of a tape in which Donald Trump claims you can do anything to women when you are a famous, rich man. Grab them by the anywhere. Following that obscene recording, 11 women came forward to accuse Trump of sexual assault. He is subsequently Present of the United States.
The Weinstein revelations are an outlier because they, overall, seem so cut and dried: there are multiple testimonies against him, the victims are predominantly being supported inside and outside of the industry, many of those speaking out against him are now powerful themselves.
If you are taken seriously, those who witnessed the incidents - who knew - will feel uncomfortable in their complicity and so treat you differently. You will always be associated with that man.
There’s the thing. You will never be rid of that experience, that taint. It stays with you a long time.
And why me? Was I too soft, too nice? Am I less competent and so more likely to yield to a deal? Was I too friendly? It wasn't because you're funny. Or smart. Was I just young?
If your capital is youth, what then? Your worth may only diminish and you are powerless against it.
The dynamics of these situations are so complicated, so nuanced. Even though he made an inappropriate remark following a morning meeting, you admire him. You might even like him, if he would just stop. And so there is a desire to prove yourself, to make him think of you as an equal. All this undermining doubt. Am I only here now because of his interest then?
I was talking about office sleazeballs with a female friend a few months ago and we reflected on improvements, even in the past five years. How the chest-beating, handsy types feel like dinosaurs now. It’s quite a surprise to meet one and you feel sorry for them, almost, in their isolation. That’s naive, possibly, and looks increasingly like good fortune and not, as we thought, a sea change.
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