Restorative justice and #MeTooSoon

In a November 2017 statement of regret for his sexual misconduct, comedian Louis C.K. concluded by saying, “I will now step back and take a long time to listen.”

The “long time,” audiences learned this week, lasted about nine months. Louis C.K. returned to the stage Sunday night with a 15-minute stand-up comedy routine at the famed Comedy Cellar in New York, and most critics agree it was a bad idea.

“We try to cut men like him out of public life, but nine months later, we get a call with the bad news,” wrote Amanda Hess for The New York Times. A Boston Globe headline announced: “Starting with Louis C.K., the creeps are creeping back into the spotlight.”

Because of statutes of limitations, lack of physical evidence, and the decisions of attorneys and victims, most of the people accused in the #MeToo movement won’t be prosecuted. Hess raises an uncomfortable question: What do we do with #MeToo offenders now?

Offenders on the #MeToo list have had varied responses to the accusations against them. Movie mogul Harvey Weinstein says he didn’t do anything wrong. Actor Kevin Spacey says he doesn’t remember doing anything wrong. Former U.S. Sen. Al Franken initially said he was sorry but resisted resigning from the Senate. As the #MeToo movement approaches its one-year anniversary, whether the accused should return to their public lives as leaders and entertainers depends greatly on what they are willing to do to make it right.

Restorative justice, a Biblical model championed by the late evangelical leader Chuck Colson, calls on offenders to attempt reconciliation and restitution with their victims and their communities. For it to work, the offenders must first take responsibility for their actions. Then offenders and victims come together to discuss the effects of the crimes and what the offenders can do to make it right.

Some criminal justice experts say a restorative approach is not appropriate in sexual assault cases because it risks additional harm for the victim. But it has been successful in some situations, most notably through a voluntary program in Pima County, Ariz., which brought together offenders and victims.

A study of that program, which ran from 2002 to 2007, found that three-quarters of felony sexual assault survivors wanted to meet with their perpetrators, and 100 percent of the victims who participated in a conference were satisfied with how it went, psychologist Mary Koss reported in the Journal of Interpersonal Violence. Seventy-nine percent of offenders expressed satisfaction with the process. In 2017, Koss won the International Advancement of Psychology Award from the American Psychological Association for establishing the Pima County restorative justice program and other efforts to combat sexual violence.

A restorative justice model for the #MeToo movement could look something like the public reconciliation that happened between comedy writers Dan Harmon and Megan Ganz on Twitter in January. In her response to Harmon, Ganz described the power of what happened: “What I didn’t expect was the relief I’d feel just hearing him say these things actually happened. … Ironic that the only person who could give me that comfort is the one person I’d never ask.”

Louis C.K. took responsibility for his crimes in his 2017 statement, saying, “I’m now aware of the extent of the impact of my actions.” Whether he ever apologized directly to victims or worked to make it right is unclear. His statement included several passive-voice comments such as, “I have been remorseful for my actions,” and, “There is nothing about this that I forgive myself for,” but he never really said, “I’m sorry.”

Colson’s model of restorative justice includes restitution to the community, too. Maybe Louis C.K. thought that staying out of the limelight for nine months was enough, but based on the reactions of people in the comedy industry, it wasn’t.

HBO offices in New York iStock.com/Joaquin Ossorio-Castillo

Sign of the internet times

HBO has done away with the pornographic shows and movies that once made up its late-night programming. The cable and streaming channel still includes sexually explicit content in its regular programs such as Game of Thrones, but it stopped offering so-called adult content this summer, the Los Angeles Times reported.

Economics, not virtue, motivated the decision. “There hasn’t been a strong demand for this kind of adult programming, perhaps because it’s easily available elsewhere,” an HBO representative told the newspaper.

HBO hit pay dirt with series such as The Sopranos and Sex and the City in the late 1990s, just as the advent of the internet made free pornography widely available. Original scripted programming has been the channel’s main draw for customers ever since. —L.L.

HBO offices in New York iStock.com/Joaquin Ossorio-Castillo

Mirror images

WORLD Magazine reporter and reviewer Sophia Lee explores the problems with minority representation in entertainment from a personal vantage point in her latest journal about the movie Crazy Rich Asians:

“No matter what skin color or cultural background you have, there are universal things all people can relate to: overbearing mothers, comfort food, meeting the potential in-laws, complicated friendships and romantic relationships, even a well-formed male physique. The biggest difference was that the characters portraying these universal human experiences had East Asian looks. They were way more beautiful than me, but they looked a lot more like me than Emma Stone or Scarlett Johansson. And though I didn’t cry happy-sad tears or feel the satisfaction of being ‘represented,’ it felt … well, nice.”

Sophia also reviews the film in the latest edition of WORLD Magazine. —L.L.