Making sense of the #Metoo movement in state and local politics.
For far too long this country hasn’t taken seriously the injustice of a person in power — often, as it turns out, political power — making sexual advances to a subordinate in the workplace. But a day of reckoning has arrived in Colorado and with it a flood of accusations that force the more serious-minded to contemplate daily behavior and, ultimately, the complicated question of justice.
The dramatic expulsion of state Rep. Steve Lebsock on Friday by his peers in the House of Representatives underscores the point.
Meanwhile, allegations last week against Denver’s mayor are now roiling Colorado’s capital city.
And back at the legislature, four other state lawmakers face formal complaints of sexual harassment.
The #Metoo movement has made this watershed moment possible. And while we wholeheartedly welcome the movement, we’ve struggled with the complexity brought by the varying degrees of severity among the abusers.
There is in fact a high bar for conduct to rise to the legal definition of sexual harassment, according to the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission: “Although the law doesn’t prohibit simple teasing, offhand comments, or isolated incidents that are not very serious, harassment is illegal when it is so frequent or severe that it creates a hostile or offensive work environment or when it results in an adverse employment decision (such as the victim being fired or demoted).”
Through that lens we have judged two of Colorado’s cases harshly. We called for Lebsock, D-thornton, and state Sen. Randy Baumgardner, R-hot Sulphur Springs, to resign.
Lebsock drew 11 official complaints of workplace harassment from five women and all were found credible by an investigator. Making matters worse for himself, he has lashed out at the victims.
Baumgardner is accused of slapping or grabbing the buttocks of a legislative employee multiple times and harassing an intern by suggesting he was disappointed she made him go home from the bar alone. She says he also pressured her to drink with him in his office.
Sadly, neither resigned, igniting an ugly political battle over what the consequences should be. Out of respect for the democratic process, we could not support efforts to expel the men from their elected offices by a super-majority vote of their colleagues, although we were alarmed enough by Lebsock’s behavior to have no appetite for chiding those who voted to send him packing.
We remain disappointed that Republican leadership in the Senate refused to take even the limited punitive action against Baumgardner that is at the disposal of the Senate president, such as stripping him of all but one committee assignment, or a formal censure.
Mayor Michael Hancock showed a callous indifference to the impossible position in which he put Det. Leslie Branch-wise with several sexually suggestive text messages, but as with many such cases, it’s difficult to measure the appropriate punitive response to his behavior.
Hancock’s behavior fell somewhat short of justifying a call to resign. It weighs heavily on us that the victim clearly and justifiably felt harassed by the text messages the mayor sent, but unlike Baumgardner and Lebsock, Hancock admitted to his mistake and apologized to Branch-wise. Democracy in this case must be allowed to run its slow course of judgment.
The final three cases involve matters that we are glad were brought forward, but appear to fall short of the employment commission’s standard, although each should have been met by House and Senate leadership requiring some sort of sensitivity training and admonishment.
Sen. Jack Tate, R-centennial, is accused by a former intern who was 18 at the time of a pattern of creepy behavior over multiple incidents, including his telling the intern that he liked the way a skirt looked on her, looking her up and down, putting his hand on her shoulder and nudging her waist.
Sen. Larry Crowder, R-alamosa, is accused by Rep. Susan Lontine, D-denver, of pinching her buttocks and making a lewd sexual remark. The two are peers in the workplace. Though leadership tried to allow the matter to be resolved amicably, the effort failed, so Lontine went public with her complaint.
Rep. Paul Rosenthal, D-denver, is accused of making unwanted sexual advances to another gay man, including grabbing his inner thigh and trying to kiss him, at a political event. The victim did not work for Rosenthal and it occurred before Rosenthal became a lawmaker.
Without the #Metoo movement, these victims would have likely never come forward. Their bravery forces us all to demand more of our elected officials, whether for a distasteful error in judgment or a clear pattern demonstrating an abuse of power in pursuit of sexual gratification.