|
Opinion: Who cares about reputations of wrongly accused?
By Christine Flowers
In this #Metoo era, reputations have been devalued to the point that even if you have one to protect, the avenging angels of society (prosecutors, investigative journalists, tweeting A-List actresses) will run roughshod over it. Now that we’ve decided that pretty much every accusation ever made against a film producer, a CEO of a Fortune 500 company or a Catholic priest must be true, our collective concern for avoiding slanderous accusations against someone who cannot defend themselves has pretty much evaporated. Raymond J. Donovan, Secretary of Labor under President Reagan once famously said, after he was acquitted of corruption charges, “Which office do I go to, to get my reputation back?” It was a rhetorical question that was once considered legitimate, but that today is mocked. Who cares about the reputation of the wrongly accused if we can advance a political agenda that comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable, right? Who cares if that film producer never laid a hand on that starlet, enough of them did so let’s not worry about the details of a particular case. Why worry about that Fortune 500 CEO since his accuser makes about a tenth in her entire lifetime what he makes in a month? And that Catholic priest? We know he did something, and if he didn’t, so many of them did that it’s a literal sin to obsess over Father Expendable. I’ve heard a lot about cover-ups these past few weeks, as the Pennsylvania Supreme Court blocked the release of one in a continuing series of grand jury reports that detail alleged abuse in several Catholic dioceses across the Commonwealth. The high court refused to release the report immediately because of a concern that the interests of many people mentioned in that report could not be adequately protected. The interest, obviously, is what Shakespeare called “the eternal part of myself,” a person’s reputation. A number of plaintiffs, whose identities have not been revealed, went to court to prevent the release of the report, at least until such time as the interests of those who care about their reputations could be satisfactorily addressed. That seems fair to me, since the incidents alleged in the report are beyond the reach of the criminal courts. That’s another topic for another day, by the way, the idea that we can just eliminate statutes of limitations for cases of abuse that allegedly occurred decades ago. I’m strongly against that move, because it reeks of vigilante justice and also seems to completely bypass the issue of due process. State legislators who want to eliminate the statutes or render them virtually unenforceable have a fawning, appreciative audience among constituents who think the mere accusation of abuse should be enough to strip an accused of legal protections. The #Metoo movement has made it easier to dispense with caution, fairness and common sense. But even if I agreed that we could simply eliminate those statutes of limitations and leave the door open for accusations of abuse to be made decades after the fact, when minds have clouded and witnesses have evaporated, that doesn’t mean I think that it’s OK to simply throw people who have been accused of wrongdoing to the media wolves in the court of public opinion. Frankly, the only people who think that might be OK are the ones who never had a finger pointed in their faces and a big “J’accuse” shouted in their direction. Lately, we’ve seen a lot of people brought down by innuendo. State Rep. Nick Miccarelli has been the target of some media malpractice in the way that journalists have handled the case of two women who accused him of sexual harassment. Those women got to hide behind the veil of what I call Immaculate Anonymity draped around victims of abuse, while his name was splayed across the pages of this paper and others. That one of his accusers willingly chose to out herself doesn’t change the fact that his name gets dirtied, and the accusers get the grace of silence. State Sen. Daylin Leach was subjected to the same treatment, as was Al Franken, as were many of the men caught up in the #Metoo maelstrom. Their reputations, if not completely destroyed, have been compromised. When I wrote about that in the past, I’ve gotten emails and tweets from angry readers who think I’m defending rapists and abusers. I’m obviously not, but it’s a lot sexier to throw out those accusations instead of saying “hmm, she has a point about defending the due process rights of these fellows.” In the case of this grand jury report, it’s even more tempting for people to assume the worst. Catholic priests are fair game, and have been since the first hint of scandal emerged about 20 years ago. Defending the due process and right to reputation of any person accused of a crime is unpopular these days, but infinitely more difficult when you are dealing with a class of men – Catholic priests – who have been branded, by default, as rapists. So I wasn’t surprised when the media types filed suit to force the Supreme Court to release the report. Journalists always pretend to be riding that high horse of justice and righteousness when it comes to the First Amendment, and though they sometimes whine when people say mean things about them (ooh ooh ooh, the president insulted us!) they seem to have no real problem rushing to expose “newsmakers” regardless of whether those people might be permanently harmed by the revelations. A grand jury proceeding is not a trial. It does not afford the people mentioned in the courtroom ironclad legal protections, and as was once famously noted, even ham sandwiches of good and decent reputation can end up on the wrong side of a prosecutor. Both the state Legislature and the Pennsylvania Supreme Court have realized that investigating grand juries are powerful things, and can have a devastating impact on those who are subject to their reach. Last year, the high court formed a task force to review the operations of those grand juries and to recommend updates to the process (http://www.pacourts.us/assets/files/newsrelease-1/file-6251.pdf?cb=97d698) and state Sen. Stewart Greenleaf drafted Senate Bill 1133 to address deficiencies. Perhaps that’s why the court itself agreed to seal the report until such time as it could be convinced that the plaintiffs who sued to bar its release were adequately protected under the Constitution. Because our justice system isn’t based on empathy. It’s based on the law. Contact: cflowers1961@gmail.com
|
.
Any original material on these pages is copyright © BishopAccountability.org 2004. Reproduce freely with attribution.