We’re done asking why sexual assault survivors don’t come forward, right?
And when they do find the courage to come forward, we’re done asking what took them so long, right?
We’re done filtering their stories through a “what will she gain from this” lens instead of a “what will this cost her” lens, right?
We’re done pretending this culture is even remotely safe for survivors, even mildly interested in their truth, even marginally intent on their healing, let alone their justice.
Right?
Because the president of the United States, when asked about his documented friendship with a convicted sex offender, just replied, “Quiet, piggy.”
“Mr. President, what did Jeffrey Epstein mean in his emails when he said you ‘knew about the girls?’” Bloomberg White House correspondent Catherine Lucey asked the president on Nov. 14, aboard his taxpayer-funded ride.
“I know nothing about that,” President Donald Trump replied. “They would’ve announced that a long time ago.”
Then he switched the subject to Epstein’s relationship with former President Bill Clinton and former treasury secretary and Harvard president Larry Summers.
Lucey pressed ahead, asking a follow-up question about the Epstein files. Trump pointed his finger at her the way you would a misbehaving dog and demanded, “Quiet! Quiet, piggy.”
We’re done asking why survivors don’t come forward, right?
Because when asked for comment about “Quiet, piggy,” a White House official blamed Lucey.
“This reporter behaved in an inappropriate and unprofessional way towards her colleagues on the plane,” the White House official told the Daily Beast. “If you’re going to give it, you have to be able to take it.”
Because before he said “Quiet, piggy,” Trump was found liable in 2023 for sexually abusing advice columnist E. Jean Carroll and this country elected him president a year and half later.
Because before he said “Quiet, piggy,” Trump bragged about grabbing women’s genitals during an “Access Hollywood” taping, and when the recordings were made public, this country elected him president a month later.
Because before he said “Quiet, piggy,” Trump was accused by former Miss Teen USA contestants — emphasis on teen — of walking in on them undressing and saying, “Don’t worry ladies, I’ve seen it all before.” And in a 2005 interview with The Howard Stern show, when asked about Miss USA and Miss Universe, Trump talked about walking in on the contestants undressing, “and you know, no men are anywhere, and I’m allowed to go in because I’m the owner of the pageant and therefore I’m inspecting it.”
And still, when he elbowed his way onto the political stage a decade later, instead of laughing him off as wildly unqualified and truly, toxically, tremendously unworthy of representing the American people, this country elected him president. Twice.
Because the question that prompted “Quiet, piggy” was about a set of files that detail numerous incidents of sexual encounters with minors.
Because when discussing those files, podcast host Megyn Kelly had this to say about Epstein: “He was into the barely legal type, like, he liked 15-year-old girls. I’m not trying to make an excuse for this. I’m just giving you facts — that he wasn’t into, like, 8-year-olds.”
Because 15-year-old girls are children.
Because Trump and his defenders, when asked about the president’s repeated appearance throughout the vast trove of Epstein documents, continue pointing to other men’s names. Men whose politics don’t square with theirs.
As if “Democrats did it too” is any kind of comfort to survivors.
As if the files are opposition research and not tens of thousands of pages of powerful men preying on powerless girls.
As if a survivors’ trauma ebbs and flows with the political winds.
As if more men’s names lessens the obscenity of it all.
Fine. Investigate them all. Please investigate them all.
But only one of them is the president of the United States. And that matters.
At least it should.
Because if we’re going to become a nation that truly protects children, that truly values women, that truly protects its citizens from harm, that truly cultivates and benefits from the full talents, ideas, strengths, voices and contributions of the entire population, we have to stop giving a pass to sexual abusers.
And until we get serious about that, we can’t possibly expect the full breadth and depth of survivors to come forward with their stories. And without the full breadth and depth of their stories, we can’t possibly know the full breadth and depth of the problem.
And until we know the full breadth and depth of the problem, we can’t begin to arrive at a solution.
“Quiet, piggy” suggests we don’t want to.
What comes next will reveal whether that’s true.
