The cultural pendulum has swung, and the shift is nowhere more evident than in the evolving narrative surrounding Harvey Weinstein. Once the poster child for predatory behavior, the measuring stick against which all other alleged sexual abusers were compared, Weinstein now finds himself at the center of a growing wave of skepticism, a backlash against the Me Too movement that seeks to dismantle the progress made in holding powerful men accountable.
As Weinstein faces a retrial in New York on rape and sexual assault charges, a disconcerting chorus of voices, amplified by prominent right-wing figures, are questioning the validity of the accusations against him, casting doubt on the experiences of his accusers, and even portraying him as a victim of a politically motivated witch hunt. This shift in public sentiment is not merely a fleeting trend; it represents a fundamental change in how society perceives sexual violence and the women who come forward to report it.
Leading the charge in this revisionist narrative are individuals like Candace Owens and Joe Rogan, known for their provocative questioning and ability to sway public opinion. Owens, a right-wing commentator, has announced her upcoming series of jailhouse interviews with Weinstein, titled "Harvey Speaks," promising to reveal evidence that will exonerate him. Her assertion that Weinstein was "wrongfully convicted and basically just hung on the Me Too thing" reflects a dangerous simplification of a complex issue, one that ignores the overwhelming evidence of his predatory behavior and the lasting trauma inflicted on his victims.
Similarly, Joe Rogan, host of a hugely popular podcast, confessed to changing his mind about Weinstein after listening to Owens’ claims. "I thought he was guilty of, like, heinous crimes and then you listen, and you’re like, ‘Wait, what? What is going on?’" Rogan’s remarks highlight the power of misinformation and the ease with which even seemingly informed individuals can be swayed by narratives that challenge the established facts.
This high-profile support for Weinstein is not an isolated incident. It is part of a broader anti-Me Too, anti-feminist backlash that gained momentum in 2023, arguably beginning with the Amber Heard-Johnny Depp domestic violence trial. The collective attention once focused on the stories of survivors has waned, replaced by a growing skepticism towards their claims and a willingness to entertain narratives that portray accused men as victims of false accusations. The public, once transfixed by accusation after accusation of sexual violence committed by famous men, is now more often transfixed by the idea that those famous men aren’t so bad after all — that maybe the women who accused them are simply lying.
The embrace of Weinstein by figures like Owens and Rogan signifies a significant sea change in the cultural landscape, a shift in how society understands and responds to sexual violence. In the immediate aftermath of the Weinstein scandal, he was widely condemned as a symbol of unchecked power and predatory behavior. His crimes were so egregious that they overshadowed other instances of sexual misconduct, leading to a period of intense scrutiny and accountability for powerful men across various industries.
However, over time, as Weinstein faced legal battles and other accused men largely avoided similar consequences, a troubling trend emerged. Weinstein became a point of comparison, a yardstick by which other alleged perpetrators were deemed "not so bad." As feminist commentator Jessica Valenti wrote in 2022, "Weinstein went to jail, so that when a woman complains about Louis CK winning a Grammy, men can scoff at her greedy overreach."
Now, even Weinstein himself is being re-evaluated, his actions downplayed, and his character defended by those seeking to undermine the Me Too movement. The retrial in New York, prompted by a procedural issue that overturned his initial conviction, has provided an opportunity for his supporters to rally around him, amplifying their claims of innocence and painting him as a victim of a biased system.
One of the most significant achievements of the Me Too movement was its ability to challenge deeply ingrained myths about sexual abuse, to expose the systemic factors that enable perpetrators and silence survivors. However, the current backlash threatens to undo this progress, reviving outdated narratives and perpetuating harmful stereotypes.
Candace Owens, for instance, has been actively promoting these myths, employing tactics that were common before Me Too. She incorrectly asserts that of the more than 80 women who accused Weinstein of sexual misconduct, only three ended up bringing charges against him. This, she says, proves that the rest of Weinstein’s accusers were liars, and that the evidence against him is thin. In fact, three women brought charges against Weinstein in New York and five more in Los Angeles.
Owens also argues that the fact that some of Weinstein’s accusers continued to maintain contact with him after the alleged assaults undermines their credibility. She suggests that they were engaging in quid pro quo relationships, trading sexual favors for professional opportunities.
These arguments, while seemingly logical to some, ignore the complex realities of sexual violence and the psychological impact it has on survivors. Sexual assault is notoriously difficult to prove in court, and many survivors hesitate to come forward for years or even decades due to shame, fear of retaliation, and the difficulty of securing a conviction. The fact that many of Weinstein’s accusers maintained contact with him after the assaults is not evidence of their complicity, but rather a reflection of the power dynamics at play and the professional repercussions they faced if they dared to challenge him. Weinstein held significant professional power over his alleged victims — and his reputation as a vindictive actor left little doubt that he would not hesitate to use it.
All of this information was widely discussed in the press during the initial reporting of the Weinstein scandal and throughout his trials. Owens’s "just asking questions" routine is not about seeking new information; it is about revisiting old questions that have already been thoroughly answered, acting as if the explanations and insights gained during the Me Too movement never existed.
The success of Owens in finding an audience willing to embrace her narrative is a disturbing sign that the gains of Me Too are far more fragile than many had hoped. It suggests that the public is susceptible to misinformation and that the cultural pendulum can swing back towards a more permissive attitude towards sexual violence.
This shift in public sentiment has profound implications for all victims of sexual assault, particularly those whose attackers are not as widely known or as obviously monstrous as Harvey Weinstein. The backlash against Me Too creates a climate of skepticism and distrust, making it even more difficult for survivors to come forward and seek justice. The informational ecosystem built by people like Owens could have lasting impacts, making things worse for all the other victims of sexual assault out there: the ones whose attackers don’t have 80 public accusations against them; whose attackers are, after all, no Weinstein.
