Content warning: discussion of sexual assault, child sexual abuse, and suicide. Recently, my husband and I were having lunch with another couple and their toddler son. The wife and I were complaining about how our entire social media feeds had been taken over by the Cornell 7 case, how inescapable and anxiety-producing it was. She said something to the effect of, “Plus, now that the algorithm knows I have a son, I’m getting all this content about how it’s my job to prevent him from assaulting someone. It’s so overwhelming and he’s only one!” (When we asked the husbands about their social media feeds, there was scarcely a mention of the case, no talk about how fathers of sons ought to be fighting rape culture. Fixing the entire patriarchy is, apparently, just another task on the endless list of modern mothering to-dos.) Heretic Hereafter is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. The Reaction to the Cornell 7 Case By now I’m sure you know the broad strokes of the Cornell 7 case. Women are being hit hard by this news—this was not only an attack on Jane Doe, it also feels like a reminder that we are not safe, that many men see us as less-than-human. The actions of the Cornell rapists were despicable, dehumanizing, and traumatic. The way that campus and local police, along with school administration, swept this crime under the rug are both horrifying and all too familiar. The rage that’s pouring forth is, I believe, a reaction to this lack of accountability, this absence of justice. Of course people are outraged—the situation is outrageous. But I am troubled by the internet mobs that seek revenge in lieu of justice. Many of the posts I’ve seen have a sort of gleeful attitude— “let’s dox, threaten, and ruin these men’s lives” is the vibe. Several innocent people who have the same name as the alleged rapists have been doxxed and harassed—internet “justice” is far from precise. Revenge is Not Justice This situation is not unique. In the early 00s, To Catch a Predator, a police sting/hit TV show served up the ritual humiliation of alleged pedophiles for the pleasure of the viewing audience. It was a ratings juggernaut until one of its targets, a local D.A., killed himself. Recently, some have begun to interrogate the ethics of To Catch a Predator. In a new film, Primetime, Robert Pattinson portrays Chris Hansen, TCaP’s host, as a monstrous figure in his own right. There’s also a critically acclaimed documentary about TCaP called Predators, which I watched this weekend. It was sobering. Without the quick cuts and comedic editing of TCaP, we saw men sobbing, asking for therapy, telling the crew they were going to kill themselves. Their shame was hard to watch. Instead of help, TCaP compounded this shame with violent arrests and public exposure. The filmmaker, himself a victim of childhood sexual abuse, describes watching the original TV show, in part, to understand why some men abused kids. It’s an answer he never gets. We don’t know if the filmmaker’s abuser was ever brought to justice. What we do know is that many victims of CSA felt some catharsis watching TCaP, but it’s a shallow relief that offers no real accountability for the abuse they suffered. Superiority Complex Entertainment I remember enjoying To Catch a Predator during its heyday, even as its attempts to play its stings humorously left me with a queasy feeling. It felt shocking and transgressive to witness the moment a person’s life was, effectively, over. In America, “sex offender” is a very sticky label. Why did we watch? That era was rife with reality TV whose cast members were the butt of the joke: Teen Mom, Jersey Shore, and the like. The pleasure in viewing was the feeling of superiority the viewer experienced. TCaP was the Platonic ideal of this sort of TV: these men, we were assured, were the worst of the worst, and so it was okay to publicly expose them for our entertainment. It is only twenty years later we are learning the nuances of some of these cases. We know, for instance, that many perpetrators of child sexual abuse were once victims themselves. It doesn’t excuse their crimes, but it does paint a more complex picture. In addition, the Predators documentary highlights the story of one young man who was lured to meet a 15-year-old boy. The “pedophile” in this circumstance? An 18-year-old high school senior—a situation which is not illegal in many states. When questioned about the decision to air this episode and ruin this teenager’s life, Hansen seems confident in his decision. He, like many in our internet age, is convinced of his righteousness, which just so happens to align with his financial interests. Internet Vigilantism Fails Everyone To be sure, there are huge problems in the way the U.S. fails to hold rapists and sexual abusers accountable. Our justice system fails victims at so many levels and in so many ways, often leading to further traumatization. But while it is satisfying to think we have some kind of vigilante work-around we can enact from behind our screens, internet “justice” dehumanizes everyone involved. The algorithm incentivizes outrage and sensationalism rather than deliberation and nuance. Many online will, knowingly or unknowingly, spread false information. This fits the definition of slander. According to 12th century Jewish scholar, Maimonides, slander is the only unforgiveable sin because it was impossible to trace how far a rumor had spread and to repair a person’s reputation after the fact. We’ve seen this outrage cycle rebound and hurt the original victims. There is nothing the algorithm loves more than a hot take, so as soon as the majority of people believe X, someone will pop up to say, “actually, Y.” None of this will be fact-checked, there is no deliberative body, just plenty of interference by nefarious actors and professional trolls. And then we come to the matter of doxing and death threats, for which there seem to be little legal accountability, even as they radically disrupt peoples’ lives. The Cost of Dehumanizing Perpetrators It feels comforting to tell ourselves a story: these people are monsters whom we have nothing in common with. We are better than them, nobody we know would ever do something like this. But when we demonize them, we miss the lessons of this story and opportunities to prevent it from happening again. Labeling these men as evil protects the systems that enable this behavior. We can abhor their actions (or, in the case of the rest of the group chat, their inaction) while also recognizing that they responded to an incentive structure which prized “bro code” over the safety, dignity, and rights of a young woman. What Real Justice Looks Like Internet vigilantism satisfies our rage, but it can’t provide real justice. Real justice is slow, hard, deliberative, often frustrating work. What would legal justice look like in this case? * a full criminal investigation into the action/inaction of those involved * legal reforms that align with our current understanding of consent and center the rights of victims throughout the legal process * the removal of police and school administration who prioritized their institution’s reputation over protecting their constituents * teaching accurate, consent-based sex ed in all public schools * support for journalists like those at The Cornell Daily Sun who brought this case into the public consciousness * much more aggressive oversight and regulation of frats, if not a total ban And what about spiritual/moral justice? For this I turn to Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg’s On Repentance and Repair: * Jane Doe deserves to tell her story and explain the impact of this assault. She deserves to be truly heard by the assailants * the assailants need to make authentic apologies to Jane Doe and the community as a whole * the assailants need to make amends to Jane Doe and to the community * the assailants need to change and become better people who will ne… This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit heretichereafter.substack.com/subscribe
