We haven’t seen a lot of it from the very high-profile men recently accused of sexual harassment, but perhaps one of the most invidious things that happens when a more “ordinary” harasser is called out is the subsequent reframing, or “spin” that he or his people put on the alleged events in their aftermath. The narrative of what occurred is recast in a way that serves to undermine the accusers, permit the accused to save face, and perpetuate the cycle and culture of harassment. Now, typically, the very high-profile accused’s reactions consist largely of abject apologies, disappearance from professional life, and sometimes even rehab. But in the past few days, we have heard from an “anonymous source” with a most intimate knowledge of Matt Lauer’s psyche, plans, and experiences. And its resemblance to the typical, low-profile accused harasser’s almost formulaic response warrants some attention before the world moves on from the story.
In a widely-circulated report from a “former and longtime colleague,” it is speculated that Lauer will not try to forge a comeback from the spate of accusations that has beleaguered him and, it appears, has ended his career for now. First, the source clarifies, almost defiantly, that Lauer has already “made his money and said all he wanted to do is be with the kids and golf.” This uncannily resembles the initial response of many accused workplace bullies, abusers, and harassers, which is, essentially, “This takes nothing away from me. I am walking away with my head held high. I don’t need this.”
Then the source goes on to say that with respect to the central allegation made against Lauer about something having occurred on location during the Olympics in Sochi, Lauer had seen this interaction as “consensual,” and was left “dumbfounded by the notion that it was not seen that way by his accuser.” This, to the extent that it represents Lauer’s true feelings, is a self-serving sentiment on his part, but it also mirrors the response given by many accused harassers once confronted. Many of them, even those who genuinely believe their own protestations, turn a blind eye toward the complexities of the notion of “consent” given in the context of a workplace relationship and in the face of power discrepancies. More saliently, this kind of a reaction, even where it is sincere, helps further blur the lines between coerced and consensual acts, even as it undermines the accuser, often making her feel shame, as though she unwittingly invited or acquiesced to the behavior she now complains of, as well as “gaslighted,” as her being contradicted makes her feel as though she cannot trust her own judgment and perceptions. The whole narrative can be rewritten, depicting men as vulnerable, misunderstood, and wronged, and women as unreliable at best, deceitful and conniving at worst, and capable of toppling men of great promise or stature by virtue of their own delusions, wrath, or contrivances.
We have almost all, by now, rewatched Lauer’s interview with Anne Hathaway, in which he seemed to dwell, in an unseemly manner, on a “wardrobe malfunction” that she experienced, which did not seem newsworthy at all. While it is easy to focus on the insight that this might yield into his interest in her story veering toward the salacious, it is also important to realize that what may be much more telling is his patronizing intentness on having her explain herself. His almost punishing insistence on having her articulate the “lesson learned” from the ordeal, despite the fact that there really was not much more to be said about it, almost emerges as an attempt to degrade and humiliate her. One of the most common things that is said about many harassers is that even more than a lascivious interest in their victims, they have a desire to assault their dignity; this is why it is often said that sexual harassment tends to be, more than anything else, about power and control.
Then, the source says of Lauer, “He was a flirt. A philanderer. …He is a player. Not a predator but a player.” And there is the central resonance with the accused harasser’s playbook: fully rewrite the narrative. With this, the script is completely flipped, and the conception of an assaultive predator melts into one of a cool, carefree “player,” who is desired, not desirous; carefree and indifferent, not aggressive; and cool, rather than deviant. To be sure, in Lauer’s case, most of us have no idea exactly what exactly went on, especially not having the benefit of seeing what NBC seemed to view as irrefutable evidence of at least some some wrongdoing. But the response is flippant, and it is typical. Even in a scenario in which something resembling consent was given, we know that when it is given to a powerful supervisor while traveling for work, consent is not drawn in black and white.
But that’s what the source’s recharacterization of Lauer to the press does: it blurs the line between coercion and consent. It redefines what is perceived to be predatory as simply being out for a good time. And this happens all the time. In cases in which no variant of consent was given, it enables the lies of the abuser and perpetuates a cycle of victim-shaming and disbelief, silencing victims. In cases in which some variant of consent was given, the response deliberately fails to acknowledge the nuanced complexity of power differentials and coercion in the workplace, the personal and professional harm sustained by the complainant, or any real sense of accountability on the part of the accused. But the source continued, “He didn’t have to leer or hunt, he was just charming and people wanted to listen because he could hold a room with his sense of humor.” He didn’t have to hunt? So much there. Do some men have to hunt? Is this some perverse inverse of the inane, toxic denial given by some accused men that “she wasn’t pretty enough for me to have harassed her”?
Finally, the source responds to the accusations against Lauer by doing what so many accused men do themselves: propping him up for rehabilitation. According to the source, “This is the head of the show, and he was doing good deeds behind the doors.” The source added that “He never stopped prepping and following up and working hard as hard as he climbed. He treated the security guard the same as he would treat a CEO.” By lauding his virtues and extolling his good deeds, the source temporarily deflects attention from what has gone on and attempts to preserve Lauer’s status as a good guy. This kind of a response is not only commonly heard from accused harassers, but it can often blind decision makers into retaining them after they have been found to have engaged in violative behavior.
We do not know how true the allegations against Lauer are, or even what all of them are, but we do know that NBC found the evidence of wrongdoing compelling enough to fire him almost immediately, and that while he quibbles with some of what has been said, he has admitted feeling shame over his actions. Let’s recognize that the source’s defense of Lauer is the type of thing that goes on in Human Resources offices every day in America. The rewriting of accusers’ narratives is a consistent response, and one that perpetuates the cycle of workplace abuse and exploitation.