By Lucy Westcott
When I started work on a story about sexual harassment in journalism earlier this year, I didn’t expect sexual politics to become a key part of the 2016 election. Then again, little about this presidential race has followed any well-worn track.
I began my article a few days after Gretchen Carlson, a former Fox News anchor, filed a sexual harassment lawsuit against Roger Ailes, the network’s chairman. Carlson said she faced intimidating language and suggestions from Ailes that the two should “have had a sexual relationship a long time ago.” Fox settled with Carlson for $20 million, and Ailes was ousted.
To me, the most surprising part of the story wasn’t the litany of allegations against Ailes, another man in a position of power accused of preying on women in the workplace. It was that Carlson publicly came forward. Most women journalists I know – myself included – have experienced sexual harassment, whether it came from sources, colleagues or supervisors. Shame and fear keep most of those incidents from being told.
I created a Google Form seeking contributions from journalists and shared it widely on email, Twitter and Facebook. Within 48 hours I had nearly 50 responses from journalists, mainly in the U.S. but also in the Middle East and the U.K. In total, I heard from 53 women and two men and interviewed around 20 of them for the story.
I soon began to notice a pattern. Nearly every woman I spoke with said her experience wasn’t as bad as other stories I was likely to hear. Even women who were touched by sources without their consent, made to stand up and twirl around during job interviews, and backed into corners by male colleagues, questioned whether what happened was really that bad. There is little to gain in our society by coming forward, but I began to tell them that harassment doesn’t have a hierarchy. Many women said they believed this behavior was just part of being in the newsroom or working as a journalist.
Reporting these stories meant I carried a great responsibility. One woman photographer who was grabbed outside a Nebraska bar while on assignment said she never told the police what happened. Talking to me was her way of reporting it. Some women were fine with their names being used; others, understandably, wished to remain anonymous. I included my own incidents of sexual harassment because I wasn’t spared.
The response to my story, which was published in August, was largely positive. I heard from women who said the article helped them feel that they were not alone and that what happened to them was real. I was invited to address the UNITY Journalists summit in Chicago in October to speak about my story and sexual harassment in the industry.
Yet it remains difficult to find justice. Many stories I heard from journalists were similar to those from women who have accused Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump of sexual misconduct. Both groups of women faced the same questions: Why didn’t you say something sooner? Why now?
Here’s why. Trump has called his accusers liars and threatened them with lawsuits. A large number of incidents go unreported, and only three out of every 100 rapists will ever spend time in jail, according to RAINN (Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network). In September, a male journalist told me what I experienced was not sexual harassment and asked what kind of world we’re living in when co-workers can’t ask each other out. He defended himself by telling me about all the interns he’s had sex with.
There’s still a long way to go.