When I Get It Wrong

Some thoughts on my last post, and the work of peacemaking.

I’m an Enneagram Nine which, for those of you who didn’t get sucked into that whole thing a few years ago, makes me a “Peacemaker.” It’s a pretty accurate assessment, as these things go. I don’t like conflict, and I’ll do pretty much anything to make it go away. At its best, this means I neutralize arguments before they get out of hand. At its worst, it means I buckle under pushback, even when I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. 

This is an unhelpful trait for an internet writer guy, since pushback comes with the territory. A few negative comments can send me backtracking and apologizing pretty easily, and it’s not always clear to me whether I’m doing it because the haters are making valid points or just because I don’t want any trouble. 

That happened last week, with my last post about Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis. Kutcher and Kunis were catching fire because they privately advocated for leniency for their former That ‘70s Show co-star Danny Masterson, who forcibly raped two women. Kutcher and Kunis were roundly criticized for letters they wrote to the judge, asking for a reduced sentence. My argument was, essentially, that there’s nothing inherently wrong about advocating for leniency, even if the person in question is guilty of something very terrible, as Masteron is. Prisons are terrible, they almost inevitably perpetuate the same evils we imagine they’re punishing, and if a friend of mine was caught doing something very bad and asked me to write a letter advocating for mercy, I’d probably do it. So went my point.

Over on Facebook, a few people took several issue with my argument — most of which had less to do with my broader point about mercy and leniency for the incarcerated and more to do with the particulars of this case. In this instance, for example, what about the fact that rape victims are so rarely believed or receive any measure of justice? Who are Kutcher and Kunis — and who am I, for that matter — to tap the breaks on this rare instance of the law actually punishing a wealthy, well-connected guy for the crime of sexual violence? Must, even in this clear cut case of the law working as it ostensibly should, we center the feelings of white men over their marginalized victims? 

Facebook is bad in many ways but one of its little quirks is that it’s probably the least anonymous social media site. These weren’t faceless critics with names like “SuperSaiyan69” or “Cat Stevens Hawking” with a Pokemon avatar. It’s pretty easy to write those comments off (even when they’re making good points). Instead, these critics were people with pictures of themselves and their partners and their kids and dogs who shared their own stories of assault and their own perilous quests for justice. Some of them were old friends of mine. Many of them took the time to respond carefully and thoughtfully instead of going for easy dunks. Most of these comments were thoughtful and nuanced, if pointed.

So, like I said, my first impulse was to buckle instantly, nip this conflict in the bud before it became A Thing. But then I started feeling defensive and stubborn, concocting all sorts of counter-arguments and ways I’d been misinterpreted or misread. Then I started to question both fight and flight, and promptly got lost in a hall of mirrors. 

 A few people pushed back against the critical comments. People who had experienced sexual abuse engaged in thoughtful debate. Not every comment was helpful or productive, but most were. It’s a credit to the people involved that the thread never went off the rails. 

Meanwhile, I started talking to some trusted friends and asked for feedback, and I’m grateful for the people I talked to who took the time to help me process and offer their own thoughts. You know who you are! They helped me sort though the difference between my actual point — which I still broadly agree with — and the way I’d made it, which left some already traumatized people feeling forgotten, ignored or belittled. I think there is probably a way to advocate for mercy for bad people that does not leave their victims feeling like what happened to them doesn’t matter, but I don’t think I did a good job of that.

With plenty of feedback and some days of thinking it over, here’s what I wrote on Facebook:

I appreciate everyone’s feedback here, and for giving me time to talk it over with some friends. I didn’t have time today to respond to everyone with the time and thoughtfulness they deserved, but I didn't want to go to sleep without saying something to people who are mad or disappointed.

Suffice to say, I understand why people feel like this piece was dismissive of victims of sexual assault. That is 100% on me, and I'm disappointed in myself for that. There may have been a way to make this point that did a better job of centering the victims here, or maybe this particular situation just doesn’t lend itself to that conversation at all. In either case, I am really sorry that I didn't make a few things abundantly clear.

First, that justice is of paramount importance in this case and I don't support any measure that would deprive victims of the justice they’re owed. Second, sexual abusers and rapists do not deserve any sort of special treatment because of their “good behavior.” And finally, any sort of rehabilitation of our justice system would need to prioritize the safety and security of victims coming forward and being believed when they do.

I'm sorry that I communicated otherwise, and I'm really sorry that people were hurt, re-traumatized or dismissed by what I wrote. I really do appreciate the people who took time to point these issues out. Your willingness to share from your own experiences makes me a better writer and a better person. Hopefully, someday, I'll be the sort of person who doesn’t make mistakes around something this important. But until then, I remain someone who relies on good people to correct me when I'm wrong, like I was here.

I write all this as a way of being transparent to my subscribers, since this all unfolded on Facebook which hopefully most of you are smart enough to avoid. I’ll be linking to this piece in the original Substack post. 

I intentionally didn’t quote anyone from that Facebook thread here, since I don’t really think it’s helpful to take those comments out of the broader context, but you can go find it on my personal Facebook wall and make your own judgments.

Like I said, Enneagram Nines are called “Peacemakers.” In my experience, that is the best case scenario. Many of us end up being "peacekeepers” — people scrambling to maintain a semblance of peace that might be more accurately called “an absence of conflict,” which is not the same thing! Peacekeeping is exhausting work that leaves pretty much everyone involved bitter and resentful. Peacemaking involves creating something new — laboring through conflict instead of around it — and using that conflict to construct a better, stronger environment in which more people are feeling safe to express the fullness of themselves instead of just afraid to upset the applecart.

Hopefully, what I’ve done here is more about peacemaking than peacekeeping. I guess we’ll find out.