I’m not sure who coined the term “pervnado” to describe the torrential whirlwind of sexual harassment allegations roiling the already morally unhinged mirror worlds of show business, media, and politics. (Although, from the looks of it, we can thank headline writers at the New York Post for the portmanteau’s profligacy.) “Pervnado” conveys the unstoppable, unpredictable scope of reputational destruction.
But, as with an actual natural disaster, the damage varies by degrees not always deserved. It doesn’t help that, at this point, tallying the casualties is mostly just dull and depressing. And the more interesting, more revealing, problem is who’ll be able to rebound. What’s the comparative likelihood, in other words, of any given splashily-outed perv’s resurrecting his career and reputation when all this blows over?
As we sit on edge waiting to see what happens with Senator Al Franken, who is facing considerable blowback from his Senate colleagues in the wake of a seventh accuser coming forward, check out our roadmap of prominent pervs—and their chances of a comeback.
I. No Chance in Hell
Mark Halperin is most certainly finished. He invented insufferable insidery journalism as we know it today. The ultimate “insiders” presumably all knew already what a creep he was in private; and now that he’s out of the inner circle, he’s worthless to the access economy he helped build.
So for that matter is Charlie Rose, who, we now know, used the pitiable posture of a lonely old man to ensnare young women and crush their dreams; whether it was a cruel ploy or an honest projection of his sad, empty inner world—both?—it’s all out in the open. And it’s fused to his public persona in that subordinate-clause-in-the-lede-of-your-obit way.
And, here too, I’m fairly certain: Leon Wieseltier has annoyed enough prominent people over the years that the relative mildness of his reported misdeeds doesn’t add much weight to either side of the comeback-ability quotient.
Harvey Weinstein’s outing as a vile predator—which was only October, people, October—triggered the whole damn ’nado. By the time it winds down, if it ever does, the path of destruction will have torn through more careers than the Weinstein Company launched during its period of peak influence, a decade ago.
II. Eh, Who Knows?
Long-serving Michigan congressman John Conyers announced Tuesdsay he’s stepping down “to preserve my legacy and good name.” He tapped his son to carry on his “legacy.” And another Conyers heir is vying for the Detroit seat. The 88-year-old Democrat might be limping off into the sunset, but it’s possible the family name will win a second life in politics. Even with the latest accusations, Minnesota senator Al Franken has enough partial-defenders disappointed to see him, a documented groper, lumped in with Weinstein that the generic line among right-thinking people too easily boils down the slippery suggestion what he did wasn’t THAT bad. Which might also end up applying to his fellow Minnesotan, Garrison Keillor (whose ill-timed endorsement of Franken was more than ironic). Keillor, for his part, was weird all along, so at least among perceptive fans he might not be doomed to live out his days in disrepute—plus, if there’s any truth to his ample preemptive self-defenses, what he did wasn’t really that big a deal. And given the stalwart fans, I’d count him a solid we’ll see.
Matt Lauer’s dramatic exit from Today, for instance, was so good for ratings that we could easily see him come back with a Maury-like daytime talk show where people confess their pervy proclivities, then hold hands and pray or something. Matthew Weiner, Mad Men creator, is probably too on-brand with his alleged workplace depredations to be entirely undone by them. I have a sneaking suspicion I’ll live to see a Kevin Spacey comeback. Ten, 15, 20 years from now, Spacey will be even more sinister-seeming onscreen as a senior citizen—plus, a new generation of moviegoers won’t remember his disturbing crimes and disturbing non-apologies.
III. Just a Matter of Time …
I’d like to pitch a Spacey second act curtain raiser, actually: He should lead the inevitable Bill Clinton biopic. (It appears to have worked for frequently accused John Travolta.) The Clinton Effect, we well know, guarantees Bill will never fully fall for his crimes, even while leading Democrats reconsider their loyalty to him. And it pretty much assures Anthony Weiner will resurface too, probably as a guest on Lauer’s tabloid talk show. Roy Moore, among the most credibly accused pervs on the continuum, obviously isn’t done: On the off chance that he loses his special election next week, Moore’s brand has demonstrated a deeply disturbing resilience no self-respecting Bannonite would decline to capitalize on.
Hiphop star R. Kelly, who like Moore is well known and credibly reported to prey on unattended underage girls, appears unscathed by the latest (of many rounds of) allegations against him. Calls from the Black Women’s Defense League to cancel his Dallas concert last week went very much unheeded. Woody Allen, accused for years of molesting his stepdaughter Dylan Farrow, enjoys critical acclaim as ever and complains a little too Roy-Moore-ishly about “witch hunts.” Which suggests that even confessional comedian and consciously off-putting auteur Louis C.K.—whose Allen-inspired I Love You, Daddy never premiered after the Times reported his abuses—will probably resurface. In an apology and admission, he wrote he would “now step back and take a long time to listen.” He’ll be back, in other words, even more priggish and self-revealing, his public persona broadened further.
Another reason I think I’m right about C.K.: Prominent men from whom the public already expect dirty, sleazy, or in C.K.’s case creepy and kinky behavior tend to get a pass. One particularly prominent proof? President Donald Trump, whose imperviousness broke the rhetorical “teflon” mold. As Tod Lindberg aptly observed in the early aftermath of the election, more than a year ago now, we need a new word for the Trumpian magnitude of comeback-ability. “The old one was ‘Teflon,’ for a politician to whom nothing sticks. Now everything sticks, but it doesn’t matter.”
