The crux of the matter is Kavanaugh’s character and truthfulness

Why does it matter whether a then-17-year-old Brett M. Kavanaugh drunkenly tried to rape a 15 year old, at a house party, 36 years ago?

That question is implicit in all of the Republican defenses of the Supreme Court nominee.

The accusation amounts to “a little hiccup,” says Sen. Dean Heller, R-Nev.; a “drive-by shooting,” says Sen. Lindsey O. Graham, RS.C.; and, generally speaking, a cheap “smear,” according to many other Kavanaugh enthusiasts.

The accusation is a distraction, such comments suggest, designed to draw attention away from Kavanaugh’s brilliant mind and impeccable legal credentials. It’s not just unreliable; it’s also irrelevant.

Because it is apparently not obvious to everyone, let’s examine why, in fact, it does matter whether Kavanaugh assaulted someone as an inebriated adolescent, why it does matter whether his denials are credible now — and why we should absolutely want an independent, nonpartisan investigation, perhaps led by the FBI, to ferret out the truth as fully as possible.

Some have argued that the accusation matters because confirming Kavanaugh without resolving it would sully the reputation of the Supreme Court.

Or it matters because it serves to deepen the impression that the Republican Party sees victims of sexual violence as disposable.

But in my view, the accusation matters most because of what it implies about Kavanaugh’s general qualities not as a role model, or as a representative of his party, but what he might do as a judge.

Teenagers, particularly drunken teenagers, sometimes commit awful, cruel, even criminal acts — acts that can wound victims for decades.

When possible, they should be held appropriately accountable. However, what provides more insight into a person’s moral rectitude is, arguably, not what he did as a minor but how he handles such sins once he has developed into a mature adult. Specifically, whether he takes responsibility and expresses contrition.

And if Kavanaugh is continuing — today, as a 53-yearold man — to deny a crime he in fact did commit as a drunken teenager, that casts doubt not only upon his character as a teen but also on his trustworthiness in other highstakes matters today.

At present, there are reasons to doubt his credibility on this particular matter.

More significantly, his evasiveness in other exchanges with senators -- about, for example, receiving stolen information while working in the George W. Bush White House -- have likewise called his candor into question. The big possible lie we should worry about, in any case — and the one that seems more plausible in light of these other statements — would be his promise to be “a neutral and impartial arbiter who favors no litigant or policy,” who follows the Constitution faithfully and respects precedent.

If Kavanaugh lied to senators about not remembering parties or stolen memos or anything else, why would we believe he isn’t lying about his commitment to impartiality and precedent?

In a sense, the crux of the matter is not Kavanaugh’s character, or at least, not only Kavanaugh’s character. It’s what Kavanaugh’s character might tell us about how candidly he has characterized his jurisprudence.

Senate Republicans have refused to order an FBI investigation in the meantime, or even to subpoena a witness Ford named. Perhaps one reason is that they don’t want to find out what evidence might turn up. And what dots the public connects as a result.