YOU GOT YOUR DEMONS, YOU GOT DESIRES, WELL I GOT A FEW OF MY OWN

Already this fall, we’ve seen dozens of prominent men exposed as sexual predators.  It started in show business and has now spread to journalism and politics.  It seems certain that this is the beginning, rather than the end, of those revelations.

I hadn’t thought to write about this topic, because I’m a guy, and women should drive this particular conversation.  But when it comes to offering opinions, I can resist everything except temptation.  A recent Facebook post by Mira Shani posed what I think is an important question.  She first asked what her women friends thought about Louis C.K.’s apology.  Since I’m not a woman, I stayed out of that conversation.  I can take a hint.

As it happens, I’d heard of Louis C.K., but I’m unfamiliar with his work.  I don’t watch TV, and the only film I’ve seen in his IMDb acting credits was American Hustle.  Whatever his contribution to that film was, I don’t remember it.  I looked at his letter, and for the record, it struck me as better than most, although that’s a really low bar.  He admitted that the allegations against him were true, and that they were serious.  He expressed remorse (although as many have noted, he didn’t use any variants of the words “sorry” or “apologize”). He ended by saying that it was time for him to shut up and listen.

On a scale of 1-10, I give his confession an 8.  But I’m more interested in another question that Mira posed, which was how those who’d previously enjoyed his work should relate to it now.  The remainder of this post is me elaborating on that question, and then trying to answer it.  So here goes.

Is it desirable, or even possible, to separate the artist from the art?  Are we obliged to revise our evaluation of the work of artists (and people in other fields) who turn out to be deeply flawed in some way?  And is being a sexual predator uniquely disqualifying in a way that other non-virtuous behavior (for instance substance abuse, adultery, or murder) is not? 

Some of the men currently under the microscope will get their comeuppance in court, and deservedly so.  In 21st century America, it ought to be pretty simple.  Sexual predators should go to jail.  If the statute of limitations has passed, they ought at least to suffer social sanctions.  Ditto for those who are “merely” sleazy but who haven’t broken any laws.  Their professional peers should shun them. 

The problem with shunning is that, while prison sentences have an end date (which is sometimes until you die), there are no rules about how long should social punishment should last.  We don’t have a model for that right now, and I think we’re going to need one.

In other words, is there a way for someone like Louis C.K. to pay his debt to society and then resume his work?  Or should he receive the equivalent of a life sentence, and be shunned by all right-thinking people until he’s dead and forgotten?

Here are my current views on those issues.  I should note that these questions focus on how to think about the perpetrators rather than about the victims, but for the record, I’ll say that our sympathies should first be with the victims.

Politicians who are guilty of sexual harassment (or worse) shouldn’t get a pass.  If they’ve broken the law, they should be subject to legal penalties just like private citizens.  Even if their misbehavior isn’t criminal (for instance, Thursday’s revelations about Al Franken) their actions should be taken into account when voters judge their fitness to hold office. 

I think Al Franken has been a good Senator, and I’d hate to lose him.  What we know about the Franken incident so far suggests that it’s nothing like what Roy Moore did.  Moore has tried to smear his victims, while Franken has issued two apologies, the second much better than the shorter first one.  He has asked that the Senate start an ethics investigation of him, and has promised to cooperate.  His statement was both a confession and an apology, and on a scale of 1-10, I’d give it a 10.  But if we learn that Franken engaged in repeated incidents of groping, then I think the only honorable thing he can do is to resign. 

I could cite examples of similar, or worse, Republican behavior, but I’m not going to resort to a both-sides-do-it argument.  Democrats are supposed to be better than Republicans, after all.

And that leads me to a couple of points I want to make about Bill Clinton.  First, it’s worth remembering that at least one of his alleged crimes has been investigated.  And not just investigated, but investigated by a hostile, unabashedly politically motivated Republican prosecutor.  Special Prosecutor Kenneth Starr did his best to give congressional Republicans a reason to impeach Bill Clinton.  He looked into Juanita Broaddrick’s charge of rape and couldn’t make a case for prosecution.  That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, of course.  But the notion that Bill Clinton’s accusers have been ignored is fake news. 

Second, whether or not there are prosecutable cases against Bill Clinton, it’s clear that back in the day, he was kind of a sleazy guy.  His presidential achievements are one thing, and future historians will write his legacy.  In the meantime, Democrats should stop making excuses for him and usher him offstage, permanently.  No more convention speeches, no more headlining fundraisers.  Get him out of the spotlight.

It shouldn’t be that hard to find qualified candidates who can keep their pants on and their hands to themselves.  More women candidates would be a good start. 

Moving on from politics, let me say a few words about art and artists.  I’ll use one of my heroes, John Lennon, as an example.  

In an interview with Playboy in 1980, shortly before he was murdered, Lennon acknowledged that “I used to be cruel to my woman, and physically – any woman. I was a hitter. I couldn't express myself and I hit. I fought men and I hit women….  I will have to be a lot older before I can face in public how I treated women as a youngster."  Apparently, he wasn’t much of a father, either.  Julian Lennon, his son by his first marriage, has said that Paul McCartney was more of a father figure to him than Lennon himself.  By Lennon’s own account, he was addicted to heroin in 1968-69; and he spent another 18 months in 1973-74 in an alcoholic haze.

Knowing all that, am I obliged to throw away my Beatles records?  I say no.  I think it is possible to separate the artist from the art he or she produced.  Of course, if the “art” consists of glorifying rape or other harmful activity, then I’m out. 

Usually.  Although to be honest, there are songs about reprehensible activity that I enjoy, even though I’ve never done those things myself and don’t want to do them.  They include songs about everything from drugs to murder and robbery.  And about seduction (which is such a quaint term now), though none I recall about rape.  Maybe for some people, those songs serve as a gateway drug to acting out real crimes.  For others, maybe they function as a safety valve, letting a milquetoast like me get those anti-social impulses out of my system. 

Still, although my life has been very different than theirs, I can recognize pieces of myself in both Roy Moore (reluctance to admit and take responsibility for embarrassing behavior) and John Lennon (his impulse to avoid thinking about his behavior rather than fix it).  If I knew anything about Louis C.K., I’d probably see something familiar there as well.

One of the lessons you learn when you reach adulthood is that nobody’s perfect.  All your idols have feet of clay – your parents, Gandhi, Lincoln, and even me.  Especially me.  Just in case anyone was in doubt about that.

If we want to be responsible citizens, we need to understand that nobody’s perfect, and a good place to start is with ourselves.  As Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7:1 & 3), “Judge not, lest ye be judged.  And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?”

Once we can approach our job as citizens with the appropriate humility, then we can assess the behavior of others, protecting the innocent, restraining the guilty, and even trying to have compassion for them – but not at the cost of letting them harm more victims.

Our job as responsible consumers of art is to avoid confusing the artist with the art.  We should have compassion for the artist’s suffering when art comes out of pain, but we shouldn’t identify with the suffering and try to emulate it. 

When his enemies brought an adulterous woman to Jesus and dared him to criticize the Mosaic penalty for adultery – death by stoning – he said (John 8:7): “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”

I'm not there yet, but I'll be a better person when I can have as much compassion for Roy Moore as I can for John Lennon.