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When I first met my late husband, I was shocked to learn that he was estranged from his mother. He seemed so family-oriented, and he was warm and receptive to my own mom. If I’m being honest, the estrangement raised a red flag. Was he difficult to get along with? Was he putting on an act with my mother? But months into our relationship, he revealed a dark secret that helped explain things: His stepfather had sexually abused him for years, starting when he was 13. He had been afraid to come forward at the time, but later in life, after years of therapy and his stepfather’s death, he told his mother. She did not believe him, and their relationship never recovered.
Child sexual abuse like what my husband and Ohio gubernatorial candidate Amy Acton have endured is not rare. As many as 1 out of 4 girls and 1 out of 6 boys will experience sexual abuse before the age of 18. Three-quarters of child sexual abuse cases are committed by family members. Most perpetrators are men, commonly stepfathers. Child sexual abuse crosses cultural and economic boundaries, affecting millions of Americans.
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Acton’s story reflects these statistics. Her stepfather was indicted for raping her for years, with the sexual abuse beginning when she was 10 years old. After Acton reported the abuse, her mother didn’t believe her, and they have been estranged since she was 12. Last week, nearly 40 years later, Acton’s mother, Donna Arthur, called her daughter a liar in an ad paid for by Vivek Ramaswamy, her Republican opponent in the Ohio gubernatorial race.
The statistics on intrafamilial child sexual abuse are disturbing. Yet we should not be surprised that Ramaswamy’s campaign, and President Donald Trump, thought it was a clever political tactic to exploit Acton’s trauma and invoke the familiar trope that victims are liars. The choice was so stark that even former President Barack Obama weighed in on it while campaigning over the weekend: “There’s a decency that we should expect out of our public officials. And I don’t know what’s happened where the standards of behavior have gotten so low that somebody can run an ad like that.” But it’s quite simple: The ad reflects deeply ingrained societal attitudes toward sexual abuse victims, particularly children.
First, and most damning: We don’t believe children. A third of children abused in the home do not receive a supportive response when they disclose the abuse. Female adolescents are the least likely to be believed. Second, we blame children. Victim blaming reflects an often unconscious belief that a survivor’s character is somehow tainted, even when that survivor is a child. This phenomenon stems in part from the just-world cognitive bias, the tendency to believe that the world is fundamentally fair and that good people are rewarded while bad people are punished. Female survivors of sexual assault, for example, frequently report being blamed for what happened, even by prosecutors who are supposed to be seeking justice on their behalf. We are seeing this dynamic in the backlash against Jane Doe at Cornell. Children experience it, too. Nearly 75 percent of children who report sexual abuse receive an overall negative response, including retaliation. Third, we fail to address the physical and psychological harms of child sexual abuse. Child sexual abuse is a public health crisis with both short- and long-term consequences. Even among people who have experienced multiple forms of victimization, child sexual abuse appears to have a unique negative impact on physical and psychosocial functioning.
Victims like my husband know that child sexual abuse can cause lifelong trauma, even long after the perpetrator has died. Yet, as a society, we fail to do anything meaningful about it. Systemic failures contribute to this problem, including poor coordination among the institutions responsible for providing medical, psychosocial, and legal assistance to children and families. But fundamentally, we fail children when we don’t believe them in the first place.
Research suggests that we have it wrong when it comes to children’s truthfulness. Children rarely lie about sexual abuse. In fact, the opposite is often true: Children may lie to conceal abuse. Those who do report abuse may later retract their disclosures because of pressure from caregivers who refuse to believe them, like my husband’s mother and Acton’s mother. When we dismiss children’s disclosures, we deny them the opportunity to receive protection and support. Some, like my husband, seek therapy as adults. Far too many bury their pain.
Acton did not bury her pain, and now Ramaswamy is using it against her. Before the ad featuring her mother, Acton had spoken openly about her trauma. That could not have been easy. I imagine she would rather not have to revisit her past. But just as my husband’s story helped me understand him, Acton’s story helps constituents understand who she is and why she is running for office.
Ramaswamy, however, has turned her vulnerability into a campaign tactic. His super PAC is called “Victors, Not Victims,” a framing of strength that has helped attract approximately $60 million in campaign donations. We should want our politicians to demonstrate both strength and vulnerability. We should want them to empathize with marginalized groups, including abuse victims and children. Being sexually abused as a child is not a mark of shame, a character flaw, or a disqualification from leadership. The shame belongs to the abuser, not the child, and certainly not to the adult that child becomes.
If the attention surrounding this ad campaign accomplishes anything, it should be to raise awareness of how prevalent child sexual abuse is and how badly we fail children when we discredit them. Let’s not simply chalk this up to nasty politics. Let’s use this moment to confront a culture that disbelieves children, blames victims, and protects those who abuse them—and demand better from our politicians, our institutions, and ourselves.