Op-Ed: You may not have “seen any girls,” but you are still responsible for enabling a pedophile sex trafficker

A gray-haired man in a denim jacket stares into the distance alone. Another image shows him baking muffins in a dim kitchen. The third presents him and his wife, looking diminished, exiled from the world they once inhabited. David Ross was director of the Whitney Museum of American Art and later the SFMOMA and enabler of Jeffrey Epstein, but a recent story in the New York Times – “I’m Tainted. I’m in the Files” – invites readers to see Ross as a man undone, and to feel for him. Ross networked with Jeffrey Epstein and exchanged messages of admiration regularly, and the article humanizes him, describing his current life, post–Epstein files release, in a forgiving tone. In truth, Ross’s predicament is not a matter of poor judgment or unfortunate associations. He helped legitimize a serial sexual predator, Jeffrey Epstein, for decades.

The question should not be whether Ross feels “tainted.” It is why we are being asked to dwell on his – and other Epstein enablers’ – anguish at all? As #MeToo experts, we know that stories like this generate sympathy rather than accountability, further silencing survivors and forgiving those who prop up pedophiles and perpetrators of sexual violence. We also know that “himpathy” is a time-tested technique for shifting blame in the wake of sexual assault allegations.

David Ross was a powerful man who directed esteemed art institutions. Over many years, Ross gave Epstein access to powerful circles and ensured he had a seat at the table with the well-resourced and well-connected. Throughout the article, reported by Eli Saslow and photographed by Erin Schaff, there are examples of how close Ross was to Epstein and how much he encouraged and uplifted him. When Epstein in 2009 had the idea for an art exhibit called “statutory,” featuring underage girls and boys as sex objects, Ross responded, “You are incredible...this would be a very [p]owerful and freaky book.”

Ross laments not “seeing” what was right in front of him, yet the article itself notes that “as evidence of Epstein’s crimes continued to mount, Ross had continued to flatter and excuse him.” “Damn, this is not what you needed or deserved,” Ross wrote to Epstein after his guilty plea in 2009. In 2015, Ross wrote to Epstein: “I’m still proud to call you a friend.”

But the text fails to follow up on the inconsistencies. It credits Ross’s claim that there were no “obvious red flags” around Epstein. If being in jail for soliciting a minor isn’t an “obvious red flag,” we’re not sure what is.

Ross is portrayed as a victim himself – Epstein’s dupe. The photographs seem calculated to accentuate his suffering. They present him as a man who once lived in a glamorous world of tuxedos and art, but who now walks alone, despondent and isolated.

The images and soundbites suggest that Ross, like many of Epstein’s enablers, was somehow on the fringes of Epstein’s world, rather than a central player. They describe the director of two major museums as merely “orbiting around the edge” of the Epstein class. This is a feature of many defenses of men in the files – from Bill Gates, to Leon Botstein, to Bill Clinton. They didn’t know Epstein that well, didn’t realize he was convicted for procuring a minor for prostitution, “never saw any girls,” and were simply trying to fund art, health, and charitable endeavours.

When taking a ride on “Lolita Express” or staying on the island are framed as minor lapses in judgment, it minimizes these men’s significance as global power players, which made them attractive as enablers in the first place. To imply that some of the most powerful men in the world would spend their time with someone who hadn’t been thoroughly vetted, whose background hadn’t been examined, and be completely duped by a pedophile just to “raise some money” is highly improbable.

Regardless of how the men feel now, they allowed Epstein to assault and abuse girls and women with impunity. They looked the other way. They were “willfully oblivious,” as Ross said. They ignored his conviction, jail time, and the “red flags.” They imbued him with legitimacy and ensured he continued to circulate in the townhouses, ballrooms and private jets of the wealthy. Epstein needed them. Without them, hundreds of girls and women would likely be enjoying much different lives. Reducing the actual power of these men paves the way for readers to overlook their responsibilities as leaders, as people who should behave with integrity, honesty, and accountability.

If you found yourself feeling sympathy while reading Eli Saslow’s account of David Ross – or profiles of other Epstein enablers – you are not alone. Research shows that when stories about perpetrators and their enablers are told in ways that make them appear like victims in a larger system, readers are more likely to believe them and sympathize with them (1). The impulse to center and excuse powerful perpetrators and enablers is woven into the fabric of our institutions – from laws and workplace policies to the media environments we all inhabit (2).

Given how easily any of us can slip into viewing Epstein’s enablers as victims of his influence, we offer this op-ed as a kind of bellwether – an invitation to pause and look again. The next time you encounter a #MeToo story or another account tied to Epstein, ask: Who is being centered? Who is asking for our sympathy?

Because the answer matters. Our research shows that men accused or named in #MeToo cases often face minimal consequences to their careers. That makes it all the more important to question stories that direct our empathy toward those who engaged in the harm, rather than those who endured it.

(1) Harsey, Sarah J., and Jennifer J. Freyd. 2023. “The Influence of Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender and Insincere Apologies on Perceptions of Sexual Assault.” Journal of Interpersonal Violence 38(17–18):9985–10008.

(2) Armstrong, Elizabeth A., Miriam Gleckman-Krut, and Lanora Johnson. 2018. “Silence, Power, and Inequality: An Intersectional Approach to Sexual Violence.” Annual Review of Sociology 44:99–122.