I am Kavanaugh

The US is currently consumed in an ugly drama, being played out in public. I was not here at the time, but it feels reminiscent of the OJ Simpson trial. This drama shares elements: a human story playing out along a cultural fault line; live TV courtroom style drama; most people having a preordained opinion and taking a selective view of the evidence; and long-term consequences for the nation.

I joined most people last Thursday, finding CNN on my TV for the first time to witness the Kavanaugh hearings. They were certainly dramatic. Despite the ludicrous format imposed by the Republican majority, a clear picture of Christine Blasey Ford shone through. As one commentator put it, it was a wholly compelling performance, precisely because it was not a performance. Many people tuned in hoping for her to be exposed as a political puppet, or an unreliable witness, or with a fatally flawed recollection. None of these things happened, and the best that those that wished to discredit her could come up with was a reluctant admission that the events she recalled really did happen, but perhaps Kavanaugh had not been one of the perpetrators.

Then Kavanaugh took the stand, and I was shocked by his attitude. He was just as authentic; it was just that the character exposed was far less likeable. He was angry and bitter about the process, claiming the whole circus had been a political ambush. He was close to a broken man, bemoaning the lasting damage to his reputation. I believed him as well, at least in these aspects. When he deigned to comment about the actual allegations, I was less convinced.

While watching, I was struck by similarities between my own background and that of Kavanaugh. He is just a few years younger than me. We both had ambitious parents with money and were packed off to private schools and top colleges, burdened by high parental expectations for our futures. From what I gathered, both of us had a desire to belong socially, and that meant fitting in with groups of boys. That led us to comfortable forms of rebellion such as drinking and boorishness and maybe a dose of bullying to show our credentials. Maybe we were both frightened by girls and female intimacy, fearful of humiliation, which led us to struggle to create normal friendships with girls, and then to potentially objectify them when with other boys.

My own experience is painful to recall. My father was old and died when I was 15, and my mum found intimacy difficult and was prudish. At the time, TV and movies and books did not help much either, generally portraying idealised confident and aggressive boys. I remember recoiling when a girl tried to kiss me when I was 17, and then again when another girl suggested sex when I was 21. I don’t remember seeking advice for anything intimate, and I guess it was no surprise that in the end an older woman was the one to enable me to start to face the inhibitions when I was 25.

From Kavanaugh’s attitude, evidence and interviews, his story might well be very similar. One difference is that he was better connected and also a athlete and presumably more desirable, so he had more opportunity for missteps than I did. Most of the time I could just hide in my misery. At the country club and fraternity, he had a higher likelihood of encounters like that described by Ms Blasey Ford. I could easily have made similar mistakes – what saved me was not good character but acne and a lack of opportunity.

My guess is that these stories are far from unusual, even today, and that it would be helpful if people knew that. I think I read in the 1980’s that about 40% of boys left college as a virgin. The percentage may have reduced now, but not all that far, and not in every culture – Japanese boys are known as inhibited and late developers, for example. Yet popular culture portrays male virginity above 20 as uncommon and freakish. I watched the movie “the 40-year-old virgin” and cringed. This culture does nothing at all to help those frightened boys.

One way that boys will be boys remains that they exaggerate and struggle to express their true feelings or to seek advice. It may not be 40%, but a significant minority will be suffering like I did and perhaps Kavanaugh did too. I would not equate their trauma to that of victims like Ms Blasey Ford, but it is still trauma. And of course if society could address the trauma of confused boys, that would create fewer female victims as a direct consequence. Luckily, this is one of the many ways that the current generation is so much smarter than my own, but it is not the case for everyone, nor everywhere – think of India or China. 

Going back to the current politics, feeling commonality with Kavanaugh helps to put me in his shoes, but it doesn’t make me support him for the Supreme Court. There are many reasons for this.

First, it feels all too likely that he really did molest Ms Ford, even if some of the other allegations might be exaggerated and driven by less pure motives. I might have done this too, given different circumstances, and, in the unlikely event that I would have risen to become a Supreme Court nominee, I think I would have dug myself into a hole too. First I might have dissembled, then I might have doubled down and become angry: that is how entitled people who are used to getting their own way behave. My guess is that he now regrets not being fully transparent from the start, but that hole is too deep for that now, at least if he wants to fulfil his lifetime ambition.

Now, I’d be open to an argument that says he should not be excluded by an indiscretion as a 17-year-old. Indeed, I’m very open to that; my own experience means I would not judge him too harshly, despite the trauma of Ms Blasey Ford. The problem is the hole he has now dug. It is sad, but he has probably dissembled, and that would disqualify him. The legal burden of proof here is far lower than a criminal case; even if we think the odds on his honesty are as low as 75%, he is disqualified.

That would be sad, harsh and even potentially unjust were it not for two other arguments.

First, he destroyed his own credibility on the witness stand. It is fair, even true, for Lindsey Graham to berate the Democrats for their cynical ambush of the process. But Kavanaugh cannot do that himself, still less attribute motivations of revenge for 2016 and the persecution of the Clintons. A Supreme Court judge cannot be so nakedly partisan, and, even under duress, he should know that. For as long as he sat on the court, decade after decade, he could never shake off a label of being partisan and hence biased. We struggle to defend Clarence Thomas as a possible abuser. That would be hard with Brett Kavanaugh also, but possible. Observing him as a naked partisan undermines the Supreme Court far more completely.

My other argument is about hypocrisy and fair standards. Entitled people tend to shrug off their immature behaviour. The last two Republican presidents evaded the draft, and both have plenty of other youthful excess to explain away, one of them not just in youth. I can almost forgive that, if only these same entitled people demanded the same tolerance for others. But they are the ones who cheer on policies that lead to mass incarceration of black youth and weak attempts at rehabilitation; in context, those kids are at least as forgivable.

And what about abortion? That is such a tough issue, with the judgement about when a foetus becomes human against potentially destroying the prospects of a young mother. But I don’t see a massive attempt from these same people to make the boys as responsible as the girls, nor to make unwanted pregnancies less likely. Look at Kavanaugh and imagine things went a bit further and Ms Blasey Ford became pregnant – it is all too possible. Dragging up a peccadillo from 35 years ago may damage his reputation, but the other party would probably have had to abandon any chance to reach the Supreme Court or any other senior position, were abortion not available. Sadly, it is typical of men of privilege to expect a different treatment for themselves than they demand for others.

Sorry, Brett, I can empathise with you, I can fully understand what you did, but you are not worthy of the Supreme Court, and it would be an enduring tragedy if we have to remember this every time we see your face with eight others in black robes for the next thirty years. It is time to quietly retire and devote the rest of your life to defending victims. How about setting up a foundation to help mixed up boys?