Disbelieving women has silenced them for decades

The great # MeToo reckoning dropped onto the Canadian political scene like an overdue pregnancy: weeks of jittery, expectant quiet shattered by a series of painful contractions in quick succession.

And now there’s this new entity in the room, coated in sticky aftermath, hollering for our attention. How do we raise this nascent movement into maturity?

The speed of several political resignations prompted no small amount of hand- wringing over due process. In 48 hours, the landscape changed dramatically.

An investigation into workplace sexual harassment allegations toppled Nova Scotia Progressive Conservative party leader Jamie Baillie. Then, scant hours after denying allegations of impropriety as “categorically untrue,” Patrick Brown resigned as Ontario PC party leader. Next, Liberal MP Kent Hehr resigned his cabinet portfolio, pending an investigation, after a tweet from a public servant alleged improprieties.

None of these allegations has been proven in court, which is entirely the point. Backlash against the # MeToo movement was swift and furious. There were comparisons to McCarthyism. Such imagery conjures the worst excesses of zealotry.

According to this fearmongering narrative, all men are vulnerable to capricious accusations carrying disproportionate consequences, regardless of whether they choose to live in the glare of the public eye.

So, we must ask: At what point is it fair to expect a political figure accused of misconduct to resign?

First, let’s stop pretending # MeToo erases the distinction between sexual coercion and a clumsy pass. Women do know the difference between rape, assault, unwanted advances, and unwanted advances from a person in a position of power. We really do.

Allegations of misconduct — sexual or otherwise — always have had the power to derail a political career, when a story becomes too great a distraction to do the job effectively. It’s right for parties to hold their leaders to a higher standard, including a standard against the appearance of gross impropriety. In a democracy, it’s also the only viable option.

Speaking broadly, a party’s response to alleged sexual misconduct also says something essential about how it values women. If that seems overwrought, consider Al Franken’s heavy- hearted resignation from the U. S. Senate, while Republicans openly campaigned for Roy Moore.

Some have balked at the prime minister’s assertion, while vowing to address incidents on a case- by- case basis: “It’s essential to start from a place of belief and support for anyone coming forward with stories or allegations of harassment or assault.”

Folks are struggling with the apparent contradiction between believing accusers and the presumption of innocence. But basic principles of fairness have not been upended. They have been expanded. Fairness equally demands a presumption of truth- telling by the alleged victim, until the evidence weighs one way or the other.

People will inevitably look at the timing of revelations with suspicion. Some skepticism is valid. Some of the alleged incidents happened years ago; why come forward now? But they also come at a moment when women are being believed instead of crucified. In this context, the timing is not surprising in the least.

We need to reflect on why the simple act of believing women has sparked such a surge in accusations. Is it because women are vindictive opportunists? Or because the behaviour they’re naming actually is so common?

If # MeToo is to survive its infancy, it must be fair. But it is not an affront to justice to un- stack the deck.

The simple act of disbelieving women has effectively silenced them for centuries, perpetuating the dynamics of abuse. We have to do better than defend the status quo, when the status quo itself is what needs to change. write. robin@ baranyai. ca