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We recently asked readers to share conversations they have had with parents, grandparents and children about their experiences with sexual harassment and assault in the wake of #metoo.
We heard from more than 140 of them. Some told stories of discussing long-hidden shame, others shared experiences of trauma using descriptions that were remarkably similar. Still others, like 83-year-old Geraldine Wallace, wrote in saying that she told her granddaughter that “I’m glad your generation isn’t putting up with this.”
This week, after an anonymous allegation against Aziz Ansari was made public in an online magazine called Babe, those conversations seemed to take on a different tone. Women of all ages debated what the article, which recounted a date between a 23-year-old woman known as “Grace” and the actor in 2017, actually depicted. Was it, in Grace’s words, a case of sexual assault — or was it merely a really bad date? The opinions seemed to fall starkly along generational lines.
Caitlin Flanagan, a critic in her 50s writing for The Atlantic, argued that the article was, in effect, “3,000 words of revenge porn”— a case in which a woman who did not clearly say no stayed in a situation in which she was uncomfortable. (“Apparently there is a whole country full of young women who don’t know how to call a cab,” she wrote.)
Continue reading the main storyMeanwhile, a 33-year-old staff editor and writer, Bari Weiss, wrote in The Times Opinion section that Mr. Ansari was guilty of only one thing: Not being a mind reader.
In Vox, Jezebel and The Guardian, women in their 20s and 30s noted that while they considered the Babe piece to be poorly reported, it had sparked an important and necessary conversation about the complicated dynamics of sexual consent.
We gathered Ms. Weiss and two other Times staffers — ages 29 and 59 — to talk sexual consent, #metoo and the seeming generational divide.
JESSICA BENNETT: This particular story has left me grappling with a particular question. Is it possible for something to be nonconsensual but also not sexual assault?
BARI WEISS, STAFF EDITOR AND WRITER, OPINION, 33: One of the most remarkable aspects of this truly remarkable moment is that we are collectively and openly reassessing what we regard as kosher when sex and power is involved. But one of the more distressing and underreported aspects of this re-moralization is that some younger feminists are telling older feminists that they don’t understand their own lives. They are telling women who experienced what they considered “bad dates” or “bad sex” that those experiences were, in fact, assault. Or worse.
Many older feminists I know are sitting there saying “How dare you look at me — me who has kicked open the door of every room you occupy, who had to beg for the paid maternity leave you now enjoy, who endured the alienation of being the only woman at the table so that now you get to sit at its head — and tell me I’m not self-aware enough to understand my own life?”
FAHIMA HAQUE, SOCIAL STRATEGY EDITOR, 29: I probably sound salty but it doesn’t surprise me that women, generationally, are differing on the #MeToo movement. I am a younger feminist, but I’m not an unthinking one who assumes I have no agency. I am a survivor of childhood sexual assault and I’ve grappled with, nearly every day of my life, what needs to happen for men to be better and for women to feel strong enough to use their voice clearly to hold men accountable. So I fully admit that I’m pretty militant about male behavior.
SUSAN CHIRA, SENIOR GENDER CORRESPONDENT, 59: I share my generation’s general unease with labeling sexual awkwardness sexual assault. It’s not only about refusing to see yourself as a victim, but also it’s a fundamental act of fairness. I also think all generations are confronting that sex is an area of great uncertainty, vulnerability and, at times, abuse of power. Just because it’s common to emerge from bad sexual encounters feeling bruised doesn’t mean we shouldn’t question why it’s so common and what needs to change.
There seems to be one thing some younger women have insisted on: That Aziz did abuse his power in the situation, even if it wasn’t professional power. What do you think?
BW: Refusing to give a factory worker a promotion unless she blows you? That is an abuse of power. Going on a date and hooking up — however boorishly — with another person? That is simply not an abuse of power. If we are going to weigh every relationship on the scales of power, well, then investment bankers won’t be allowed to date baristas. We need to draw a bright line between what happens in the workplace and what happens in the privacy of our apartments (or kitchens). Right now they are getting conflated.
SC: I think it’s crucial to make distinctions, and Aziz’s accuser fell far short because she didn’t. Yes, he was more powerful than she was — not only as a man who often takes the role of aggressor in sex, but also because of his celebrity. But he held no institutional power over her career or advancement. And yet if he behaved boorishly or insensitively, if he failed to pick up cues she may have been too embarrassed to verbalize, he, like other men who’ve behaved this way, should be reflecting on why this encounter went so awry.
Bari, you wrote this week that the only thing Aziz is guilty of is not being a mind reader. That’s true, but Grace also describes expressing her discomfort in multiple places. Shouldn’t we have a higher bar for men’s emotional intelligence?
BW: Absolutely. But that is not going to happen overnight. And until that blessed day of universal male emotional intelligence is upon us — or when someone figures out how to clone Jeff Goldblum — I want fewer women to be harassed, assaulted and raped. In part that means telling women to use their common sense.
FH: Aziz Ansari did write a (very good) book on modern romance, but this just highlights that even the most sensitive, thoughtful — dare I say ‘woke’ — kind of man also has a lot to learn. We need to have a higher bar.
Daphne Merkin, a critic and novelist, recently made the point in our Opinion section that we are treating women like frail Victorian-era housewives. I heard similar from a middle-aged friend, who wondered why Grace didn’t “just get up and leave.” Thoughts?
FH: The “get up and leave” theory is, in theory, a good one. But that just feels ugly and callous in practice. It paints some women as strong warriors and others as weak fools. I will always respect first- and second-wave feminists for taking those crucial first steps for women’s rights, but to shun the new wave of women because their approach is different is divisive. We won’t move forward. I get that Grace’s actions are grating, because ideally she would have felt confident enough in herself to leave. But I remember that at 23 it can be daunting to be the one who says no.
SC: Not sure this cuts generationally, though it may. That is, there are so many reasons women may be constrained from saying explicitly when they’re uncomfortable, or they end up staying what turns out in hindsight to have been too long. Yes, it’s important to learn to say no firmly. But we all know men don’t always listen to that. And we also know that women themselves are often conflicted. Sex is always going to be messy and fumbling, to some degree. And I personally think we have to be tolerant of some uncertainty, some grayness. But if #MeToo is going to spur real changes, men have to curb their sense of entitlement.
Here’s a question we get often from readers: What about due process? Is it really fair to place Aziz Ansari’s name on the same spectrum as Harvey Weinstein?
BW: Our current situation — guilty because accused, as Margaret Atwood put it — is absolutely terrifying to me. And it should be to anyone that cares about justice and due process.
FH: The #MeToo movement is the best part of social media. And trial by Twitter is the worst part of social media. But, most people aren’t on Twitter exhaustively the way media folks are, so frankly while it’s troubling that some bring out their 280-count pitchforks, I’m just not too concerned that it’s going to sideline the overall power and scope of such newfound, increased transparency.
SC: What’s extraordinary — and deeply unsettling — is that #MeToo gives women power that men have had for so long. Men could ruin reputations, undermine or destroy women’s careers, act impulsively. I hope and believe that women can wield power more responsibly and more justly.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
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