From MasterChef to Trump, victims are pawns used to destroy careers

The Herald Scotland

5 days ago

There was extensive analysis of the way in which Wallace's and Torode's contributions had been cut to remove their banter, and whether this had blandified the series to the point of tedium.
Also under scrutiny was the request by one contestant to be edited out. Was this a brave moral stand or a futile gesture? And would she have made the same request if she had gone on to win?
What callers weren't encouraged to explore were deeper, more fundamental dilemmas, such as the cultural blind spots that allowed Wallace, in particular, to engage in inappropriate behaviour so flagrantly and for so long.
And what the BBC ought to do to address structural power imbalances so contestants and members of staff have the confidence to report such behaviour in the future?
I am not criticising this radio show's choice of subject per se. MasterChef is a popular brand, and it was clear from the number of people who phoned in that those who watch it have strong opinions they are keen to share. But as someone who doesn't, the approach felt quite superficial, an empty exercise in handwringing.
There was no sense that what happened on the programme was not a one-off incident involving a couple of mavericks, but part of a continuum of abuse which flourishes in every institution with a hierarchy rendering those at the top untouchable.
We can agonise all we like over whether or not this series of MasterChef, which had been filmed before the decision to axe the hosts was made, should have been shown.
(Image: Gregg Wallace)
Humiliation
PERSONALLY, I feel Wallace and Torode are already ruined — seeing themselves reduced to empty vessels merely compounds their humiliation. But either way, nothing much hangs on the decision.
Because the pertinent question is not: how do we ensure these particular presenters get their just deserts? But: how do we create an environment in which sexual/sexist and racist language is no longer tolerated?
It feels like we are trapped on a conveyor belt of scandals. Every single time, this is how it unfolds: the predatory behaviour of one individual — Huw Edwards, Russell Brand, Philip Schofield — is exposed. The people on whose watch the offences were committed throw their hands up in horror.
The individuals offer up a handful of lukewarm apologies cum-excuses. 'I'm sorry, but I was suffering from stress'; 'I'm sorry, but I have been diagnosed with autism'. Or they seek to downplay them as "unwise, but not illegal'. Or they deny the allegations altogether, describing them as 'hurtful'.
Notwithstanding their excuses, they are suspended, then sacked. The BBC (or other body because — think Neil Gaiman — this is not confined to broadcasting) engages in a brief period of self-flagellation and faux introspection. Perhaps it holds a review, berates itself for the failings the review identifies. A politician or two may weigh in.
On this occasion Culture Secretary Lisa Nandy told the world she would be boycotting the MasterChef series.
Someone expresses a view that the perpetrator was 'hiding in plain sight'. And then the band wagon moves on. Until the next time. And so long as the focus is on rooting out the bad apples instead of tackling the source of the rot, there will always *be* a next time
Across the Atlantic, the US is caught up in its own navel-gazing, albeit with more serious offences and much higher stakes.
There, the pressure on Donald Trump to release the 'Epstein files' is growing even amongst his own base. Last week, a Republican-controlled committee subpoenaed the Justice Department to hand them over.
Read more Dani Garavelli:
Once upon a time, Trump and Jeffery Epstein, the former financier accused of sex trafficking, were friends. "I've known Jeff for 15 years,' Trump once enthused. 'Terrific guy. It is even said that he likes beautiful women as much as I do, and many of them are on the younger side.'
(Image: President Donald Trump)
Epstein list
AFTER they fell out, Trump turned on him, amplifying claims of a cover-up and the existence of a 'client list' to help win himself a second term. This may have been a bit rash given erstwhile buddy Elon Musk's tweet, later deleted, suggesting the president's name was on it.
Since then, Trump has changed his tune, insisting the whole affair is a hoax. The swamp will not be drained, it seems, so long as this great hippo POTUS is wallowing in the mud.
Epstein was awaiting trial on multiple sex trafficking charges when he was found dead in his cell (suicide or foul play? We may never know). His partner Ghislaine Maxwell is now serving a 20-year sentence for grooming young girls for him to pass around. Earlier this year, one of their victims, Virginia Giuffre, took her own life.
Most of the recent reporting on Epstein has centred on what the mounting pressure means for Trump's presidency. Last week brought a flurry of stories on the White House's strategy of 'damage limitation,' and on the jarring juxtaposition of these two events: Maxwell's alleged confirmation to the Justice Department that she never saw Trump do anything 'concerning' with Epstein, and her transfer a week later to a minimum security camp.
Such coverage is important. It underlines the difficulty of obtaining justice if those suspected of wrongdoing remain in charge. Maxwell is hardly going to implicate a man who holds the keys to her future liberty, is she?
Survivors silenced
AND yet absent from discourse, as so often, on both the part of the administration and some sections of the press, is any sense of the toll the renewed publicity is taking on the remaining victims/survivors. They have complained about the public platforming of Maxwell as a 'purportedly credible commentator', her transfer to lower-security custody, the government's filing without conferral of the request to unseal [the Epstein files], and 'the looming spectre of clemency.'
I am, of course, as eager as anyone else to see Trump brought down. There are a thousand good reasons why he should go; a thousand different ways in which he is inflicting damage on the world. If the Epstein scandal is what it takes to see him suffer the consequences of his own actions then I will be cheering.
But it does sometimes feel as though the capacity of the Epstein case to make the headlines lies — not in the damage it has done to women — but in its potential to destroy the careers of powerful men. Once again (and where, closer to home, have we seen this before?) women are being reduced to pawns in a larger political game.
Their pain is being weaponised by people less concerned with the dismantling of harmful, outdated attitudes than with who is currently holding the levers of power and in whose interests it is being exercised.
Ridding the world of one more terrible leader — while deeply satisfying in the short term - won't make the world better for women; nor will commodifying their suffering for use in the public arena. Treating the sexual harassment of women as a political 'gotcha' - a means to an end, however welcome - won't tackle misogyny and might actually fuel it.