By Paola Subacchi
As emails and documents from the estate of the convicted pedophile Jeffrey Epstein continue to surface, the revelations have embarrassed many prominent men and, in some cases, toppled them from their positions. But the disclosures have a wider significance, because they require us to reflect on the frameworks, particularly within academia, that enable the systematic exploitation of young women.
What stands out in the email exchanges between Epstein and renowned economist Larry Summers – a former US Treasury Secretary and president of Harvard University, where he is currently University Professor – is the predatory dynamic in which professional support is implicitly traded for what Summers bluntly calls “romance/sex.” For a young academic, such support can change the course of a career.
Universities were largely spared the #MeToo reckoning that hit the entertainment and media industries in 2017. But academic women of my generation know that this was not because professors and administrators were models of good behavior; rather, it was a matter of timing and the absence of a single, catalyzing scandal. To their credit, universities have since created safer channels for raising concerns, such as mechanisms for whistleblowing and confidential reporting. While these safeguards can be misused or abused, they have fostered a culture of respect for women – and minorities – that simply did not exist before.
When I was a student and a young academic economist, comments about a woman’s body or appearance – both “appreciation” and outright shaming – were common. These demeaning remarks were often intended to affirm male power. Women were expected, and often advised, to accept them silently, no matter how humiliating.
I remember being openly discriminated against in graduate school by a few senior faculty members. As a foreign female student in a male-dominated environment, I was often asked, “What do women do in your country?” – as though Italy were some backward outpost. It was both frightening and degrading, although my ego was spared the worst, no doubt partly because of my limited grasp of the subtleties of the English language.
I am heartened to see a genuine shift in academia toward a culture of respect that simply did not exist when I was starting my career. Many colleagues treat students with care and seriousness, creating environments where trust and learning can thrive. Is this the “woke” system that, as Summers whined to Epstein, prevents a person from working “at a network or a think tank” if he “hit on a few women 10 years ago”? Whatever one calls it, we should be proud of this progress and vigilant in ensuring that it is not rolled back.
The troubling theme that emerges from the Epstein emails is how powerful men use favors to wield influence over young people (especially women). In highly competitive, winner-takes-all professional fields, being plugged into an influential network is an invaluable advantage, as is a mentor who is willing to spend personal or political capital to further your career. In academia, especially in the humanities and social sciences, where definitions of excellence are more subjective than in engineering and the natural sciences, endorsements from a few “great men” can weigh heavily in recruitment and promotion decisions. This creates fertile ground for predatory behavior.
To be clear, competent candidates may benefit from well-connected mentors, but unqualified candidates rarely advance through external influence alone. This is a subtle game that powerful men know how to play without overtly breaking the rules. For young scholars, the stakes are enormous: research funds, publications in distinguished journals, invitations to prestigious conferences, and, the ultimate prize, tenure at a top university.
Of course, one could argue that it takes two to tango. But the power imbalance makes this game fundamentally unfair. That imbalance also explains why the incentives to confront sleazy, well-connected men remain minimal. Among other things, the Epstein emails offer a glimpse into how women (and some men) are vulnerable to unsolicited advances and coercive situations early in their careers.
To prevent powerful men like Summers and those born into immense privilege and wealth, like Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, from acting on their sense of entitlement, we must continue to build a culture that repudiates the perverse norms of the old boys’ club – nowhere more so than in academia.
The writer is Professor and Chair in Sovereign Debt and Finance at Sciences Po