Andrew Cuomo and the Myth of the Evil Perpetrator

“To cheapen or ridicule the pain a woman suffers from a sexual attack is disgusting—sexist and disgusting,” proclaimed New York Governor Andrew Cuomo in 2018, as the confirmation of Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh was upended by charges of sexual misconduct.

Believe it or not, there was a time when Cuomo was wildly popular. Just months into the COVID-19 pandemic, Cuomo was described by CNN as “one of, if not, the single most popular politician in the country.” Polling numbers from April of 2020 showed Cuomo's favorability among New Yorkers at a whopping 77 percent. Shockingly, even the majority (53 percent) of Republicans viewed him favorably at the time. While Cuomo’s handling of the pandemic eventually came under significant scrutiny, his three terms as governor and former position as a Democratic presidential front runner suffice to show that he had earned our nation’s trust and approval.

But all that’s over. Last week, the release of the long-awaited report the New York Attorney General’s Office found that Cuomo had engaged in a pattern of sexual harassment and abuse towards female employees that consisted of physical groping and offensive, sexually suggestive comments. (See the full report here.) The accounts of harassment were prolific, with investigators finding the accusations of 11 different women to be credible. In response, Cuomo agreed Monday morning to resign (effective in 14 days).

Cuomo’s behavior reinforces what the academic literature around sexual abuse has dubbed “the Myth of the Evil Perpetrator" (see e.g., Baumeister, 2012). Essentially, individuals want to believe that perpetrators of sexual abuse are simply bad people who do bad things. At our deepest psychological level, human beings are pattern detectors (Proulx and Heine, 2009). We continuously piece together connections from myriad stimuli and perceive our world in ways that comport with these relationships. It is profoundly uncomfortable (see cognitive dissonance) for us to encounter incongruities; to accept that a "good" person has done bad things. To avoid this psychological discomfort, we are biased to think that perpetrators of sexual abuse are two-dimensional archetypes of evil—trench coats and all. But this just isn’t the reality.

Consider the case of Larry Nassar, the former doctor for the US women's national gymnastics team. Routinely lauded for his generosity, self-sacrifice, and commitment to others, Nassar molested hundreds of young girls under the guise of providing medical treatment. Similar stories of abuse can be found in other trusted public figures like Bill Cosby, President Bill Clinton, and now Governor Cuomo.

Simply because an individual is well-regarded does not mean they are incapable of abuse. On the contrary, abuse from trusted figures tends to be more protracted and prolific (such as Nassar’s estimated 500 victims, Cosby’s 60 accusers, Clinton's more than one dozen, and Cuomo’s 11). Consider also the numerous cases of sexual abuse found within trusted institutions such as the Boy Scouts or Catholic Church. The prolific nature of this kind of abuse is due, at least in part, to the psychological bias against finding trusted figures culpable for abhorrent acts. When suffering abuse by a trusted figure, victims are more likely to engage in self-blame or mentally reconstruct overtly offensive behavior as innocuous, thus allowing the abuse to continue. Indeed, one study found that having a trusting relationship with a sexual offender predicted the victim's tendency to self-blame and cope with the abuse ignoring it (Quas, Goodman, and Jones, 2003). Other studies have found that perpetrators, as part of their modus operandi, seek to establish trusting relationship with their victims before assaulting them (Budin & Johnson, 1989). As a real-world example, Larissa Boyce, one of Nassar’s many young victims, actually found herself tearfully apologizing to Nassar after initially reporting his abuse, stating “I misunderstood. It’s all my fault.”

In my own work as an attorney pursuing cases of sexual assault and harassment, I have found that abuse from friends or family members (those whom the victim trusts) is most often repetitive in nature. Occasionally, victims will experience dozens of assaults, continuously performing almost unbelievable mental contortions to justify the perpetrator’s behavior until something finally “clicks” and the abuse can no longer be swept aside.

Since the #MeToo movement first started to flourish in 2017, more than 250 celebrities, politicians, CEOs, and other notable figures have been accused of sexual misconduct. As the culture around abuse continues to shift towards accountability and awareness, there is no doubt that more “good” men will turn out to have done very bad things. We must be cognizant of our psychological bias to deflect accusations against these men, understand why a victim’s reports of abuse may have taken so long to surface, and sympathize with the confusion and self-blame that they might be experiencing.