Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh testifies before the Senate Judiciary Committee on Thursday. (Photo: ANDREW HARNIK/Getty Images)
Brett Kavanaugh's Testimony Was A Spectacle Of Angry Male Bonding
Anger, like laughter, really can bring men together at women’s expense
During his testimony before the Senate Judiciary Committee about the allegations of sexual assault made against him by Christine Blasey Ford, Kavanaugh harangued the committee in a plaintive squawk. He seemed perpetually on the verge of tears -- especially, for some inscrutable reason, when he lovingly recalled how well-organized his father's daily calendar was -- yet also incandescent with partisan fury and petulance about the injustice being done to him.
And Republican men, from pundits to the president, apparently reveled in it. Those in the room, such as Sens. Lindsey Graham, Orrin Hatch and Ben Sasse, used their questioning time to apologize fulsomely to the judge and to shout imprecations against government overreach, Democratic perfidy and the great cruelty being done to Kavanaugh by investigating credible assault allegations against him prior to confirming him to a lifetime seat on the highest court in the nation.
Kavanaugh's testimony stemmed from accusations of a male bonding session gone too far. On Thursday, the nation saw another one, of another kind, in progress.
The torrent of allegations and recollections about Kavanaugh's high school and college days has been a grim reminder of how cruelly girls and women suffer at the hands of boys and men who bond by laughing at their expense. During Kavanaugh's testimony, we saw an equally ugly mirror image: men bonding through performative anger and hostility -- again, at the expense of women.
Where Blasey, soft-spoken and gracious, assiduously courted the goodwill of both Republican and Democratic senators -- laughing at their jokes, patiently allowing them to complete questions and graciously asking for clarification when she didn't understand them, apologizing to them for any inconveniences or misunderstandings -- Kavanaugh burst into his testimony with a pout screwed to his flushed face, the look of a man who has just discovered his S-Class has been keyed. He was ready to brawl -- elementary-schoolyard style, with gratuitous sniffling and eye-rolling. He accused Democrats in his opening statement of executing "a calculated and orchestrated political hit," perhaps as "revenge on behalf of the Clintons."
When Democratic senators -- four of them women -- questioned Kavanaugh, his physical reactions were bizarrely juvenile; he squirmed and grimaced and made wounded eyes much like an aggrieved 8-year-old denied a long-awaited trip to Dairy Queen because he shoved his sister. He interrupted their questions to complain, in tones rising nearly to a shout, that these allegations were "sprung" on him at the last minute, or to ask them forlornly if they also liked beer.
In one particularly insolent exchange, he responded to Sen. Amy Klobuchar's question as to whether he'd ever drunk so much that he couldn't remember the next day what had happened by turning the question back on her -- twice. Needless to say, whether the Minnesota Democrat has ever been blackout drunk bears no relevance to Kavanaugh's Supreme Court appointment, nor was it Kavanaugh's place to ask her questions during the hearing. (After a brief break, having perhaps been informed that the optics on this were spectacularly poor, he reopened the hearing by apologizing to her.)
But Kavanaugh, like Blasey, was courting the goodwill of his audience -- at least of the audience that mattered to him. Where her anger would have irritated and alienated them, his braced them. Robin Lakoff, professor emerita of linguistics at the University of California, Berkeley, characterized his behavior as "hostile, angry, bullying, uncooperative," and noted in an email to HuffPost that "when a man, especially a powerful and entitled one, acts that way, it strengthens him in the eyes of many: he's manly, strong, and credible."
President Donald Trump, a summa cum laude graduate of this particular school of masculinity, reportedly disliked Kavanaugh's restrained, anodyne interview Monday on Fox News. The judge's little-boy-in-a-big-suit tantrum was transparently pitched toward the president, and reports indicate that it worked.
Meanwhile, from the hearing room, the men were whipped into a himpathetic fury. "What you want to do is destroy this guy's life, hold this seat open and hope you win in 2020," Graham hissed at his Democratic colleagues, his lip curling in a sneer. "This is the most unethical sham since I've been in politics. And if you really wanted to know the truth, you sure as hell wouldn't have done what you've done to this guy."
"This is worse than Clarence Thomas. I didn't think it could get any worse than that," Hatch said to Kavanaugh. "This is a national disgrace, the way you're being treated."
It seemed that witnessing visible anger on his behalf from Republican senators was the only thing that could bring Kavanaugh any measure of equanimity. Afterward, he was able to briefly smile or even joke during questioning. Their anger validated his own quivering rage; it clarified his apparent conviction that he is a victim.
"You're right to be angry," Sen. John Cornyn (R-Texas) told Kavanaugh repeatedly during his questioning.
The hearing was a celebration of male anger -- the power of anger to bring men together, to reinforce their certainty about what is owed to them as men and, of course, to sweep women's anger and pain to the side. Kavanaugh and the Republican senators rarely addressed Blasey or her credibility directly; rather confusingly, the party line was that she, too, was a victim, and that they bore no ill will toward her.
During Blasey's own testimony, she described in agonizing detail how she recalled Kavanaugh and his friend Mark Judge laughing as the future judge lay on top of her, covering her mouth with his hand and attempting to wrench off her clothes.
"You've never forgotten them laughing at you," Sen. Patrick Leahy (D-Vt.) said as he questioned her.
"They were laughing with each other," she replied, making a precise distinction. "I was underneath one of them while the two laughed. Two friends having a really good time with one another."
The assault and their laughter were indeed at her expense, but for those two boys, it wasn't about her. On Thursday, Kavanaugh and the Senate Republicans tried to get righteously angry without attacking a very sympathetic and credible accuser. Instead, they revealed that their anger, like that laughter 36 years ago, isn't even about her. Like everything else, it's all about them.
We are at a crossroads
This country and this world are at a monumental crossroads. US voters have an opportunity to beat back the forces of fascism and confront the billionaires who are rigging the economy, our media system, and our democracy, making it increasingly impossible for ordinary people to get by. We’re not just talking about the election. We’re talking about what must be done once these fascist elements are vanquished from power. We need a bolder set of solutions than what either major party has so far been willing to offer and a working-class movement ready to fight like hell for it. Trump didn't emerge from nowhere. The conditions that fueled MAGA authoritarianism were created by decades of radical neoliberal economic policies and a corrupt political system dominated by corporate interests. They slashed taxes on the super-rich, promising that the benefits would trickle down. They said giveaways to the corporate titans would make life more affordable for the rest of us. It was all bullshit. And when a bitter, betrayed populace searches for someone to blame, right-wing demagogues have little trouble finding scapegoats. People know when they're being lied to, but you won't hear any of this from the corporate media. Only independent journalism—powered and funded by people who believe in building a better world—can deliver truly trustworthy daily news. Our Fall Campaign is underway, and we need your help. To power our newsroom through the rest of the year, we need to raise $125,000 by midnight on October 31. So if you share our vision, please contribute whatever you can to sustain our work. |
During his testimony before the Senate Judiciary Committee about the allegations of sexual assault made against him by Christine Blasey Ford, Kavanaugh harangued the committee in a plaintive squawk. He seemed perpetually on the verge of tears -- especially, for some inscrutable reason, when he lovingly recalled how well-organized his father's daily calendar was -- yet also incandescent with partisan fury and petulance about the injustice being done to him.
And Republican men, from pundits to the president, apparently reveled in it. Those in the room, such as Sens. Lindsey Graham, Orrin Hatch and Ben Sasse, used their questioning time to apologize fulsomely to the judge and to shout imprecations against government overreach, Democratic perfidy and the great cruelty being done to Kavanaugh by investigating credible assault allegations against him prior to confirming him to a lifetime seat on the highest court in the nation.
Kavanaugh's testimony stemmed from accusations of a male bonding session gone too far. On Thursday, the nation saw another one, of another kind, in progress.
The torrent of allegations and recollections about Kavanaugh's high school and college days has been a grim reminder of how cruelly girls and women suffer at the hands of boys and men who bond by laughing at their expense. During Kavanaugh's testimony, we saw an equally ugly mirror image: men bonding through performative anger and hostility -- again, at the expense of women.
Where Blasey, soft-spoken and gracious, assiduously courted the goodwill of both Republican and Democratic senators -- laughing at their jokes, patiently allowing them to complete questions and graciously asking for clarification when she didn't understand them, apologizing to them for any inconveniences or misunderstandings -- Kavanaugh burst into his testimony with a pout screwed to his flushed face, the look of a man who has just discovered his S-Class has been keyed. He was ready to brawl -- elementary-schoolyard style, with gratuitous sniffling and eye-rolling. He accused Democrats in his opening statement of executing "a calculated and orchestrated political hit," perhaps as "revenge on behalf of the Clintons."
When Democratic senators -- four of them women -- questioned Kavanaugh, his physical reactions were bizarrely juvenile; he squirmed and grimaced and made wounded eyes much like an aggrieved 8-year-old denied a long-awaited trip to Dairy Queen because he shoved his sister. He interrupted their questions to complain, in tones rising nearly to a shout, that these allegations were "sprung" on him at the last minute, or to ask them forlornly if they also liked beer.
In one particularly insolent exchange, he responded to Sen. Amy Klobuchar's question as to whether he'd ever drunk so much that he couldn't remember the next day what had happened by turning the question back on her -- twice. Needless to say, whether the Minnesota Democrat has ever been blackout drunk bears no relevance to Kavanaugh's Supreme Court appointment, nor was it Kavanaugh's place to ask her questions during the hearing. (After a brief break, having perhaps been informed that the optics on this were spectacularly poor, he reopened the hearing by apologizing to her.)
But Kavanaugh, like Blasey, was courting the goodwill of his audience -- at least of the audience that mattered to him. Where her anger would have irritated and alienated them, his braced them. Robin Lakoff, professor emerita of linguistics at the University of California, Berkeley, characterized his behavior as "hostile, angry, bullying, uncooperative," and noted in an email to HuffPost that "when a man, especially a powerful and entitled one, acts that way, it strengthens him in the eyes of many: he's manly, strong, and credible."
President Donald Trump, a summa cum laude graduate of this particular school of masculinity, reportedly disliked Kavanaugh's restrained, anodyne interview Monday on Fox News. The judge's little-boy-in-a-big-suit tantrum was transparently pitched toward the president, and reports indicate that it worked.
Meanwhile, from the hearing room, the men were whipped into a himpathetic fury. "What you want to do is destroy this guy's life, hold this seat open and hope you win in 2020," Graham hissed at his Democratic colleagues, his lip curling in a sneer. "This is the most unethical sham since I've been in politics. And if you really wanted to know the truth, you sure as hell wouldn't have done what you've done to this guy."
"This is worse than Clarence Thomas. I didn't think it could get any worse than that," Hatch said to Kavanaugh. "This is a national disgrace, the way you're being treated."
It seemed that witnessing visible anger on his behalf from Republican senators was the only thing that could bring Kavanaugh any measure of equanimity. Afterward, he was able to briefly smile or even joke during questioning. Their anger validated his own quivering rage; it clarified his apparent conviction that he is a victim.
"You're right to be angry," Sen. John Cornyn (R-Texas) told Kavanaugh repeatedly during his questioning.
The hearing was a celebration of male anger -- the power of anger to bring men together, to reinforce their certainty about what is owed to them as men and, of course, to sweep women's anger and pain to the side. Kavanaugh and the Republican senators rarely addressed Blasey or her credibility directly; rather confusingly, the party line was that she, too, was a victim, and that they bore no ill will toward her.
During Blasey's own testimony, she described in agonizing detail how she recalled Kavanaugh and his friend Mark Judge laughing as the future judge lay on top of her, covering her mouth with his hand and attempting to wrench off her clothes.
"You've never forgotten them laughing at you," Sen. Patrick Leahy (D-Vt.) said as he questioned her.
"They were laughing with each other," she replied, making a precise distinction. "I was underneath one of them while the two laughed. Two friends having a really good time with one another."
The assault and their laughter were indeed at her expense, but for those two boys, it wasn't about her. On Thursday, Kavanaugh and the Senate Republicans tried to get righteously angry without attacking a very sympathetic and credible accuser. Instead, they revealed that their anger, like that laughter 36 years ago, isn't even about her. Like everything else, it's all about them.
During his testimony before the Senate Judiciary Committee about the allegations of sexual assault made against him by Christine Blasey Ford, Kavanaugh harangued the committee in a plaintive squawk. He seemed perpetually on the verge of tears -- especially, for some inscrutable reason, when he lovingly recalled how well-organized his father's daily calendar was -- yet also incandescent with partisan fury and petulance about the injustice being done to him.
And Republican men, from pundits to the president, apparently reveled in it. Those in the room, such as Sens. Lindsey Graham, Orrin Hatch and Ben Sasse, used their questioning time to apologize fulsomely to the judge and to shout imprecations against government overreach, Democratic perfidy and the great cruelty being done to Kavanaugh by investigating credible assault allegations against him prior to confirming him to a lifetime seat on the highest court in the nation.
Kavanaugh's testimony stemmed from accusations of a male bonding session gone too far. On Thursday, the nation saw another one, of another kind, in progress.
The torrent of allegations and recollections about Kavanaugh's high school and college days has been a grim reminder of how cruelly girls and women suffer at the hands of boys and men who bond by laughing at their expense. During Kavanaugh's testimony, we saw an equally ugly mirror image: men bonding through performative anger and hostility -- again, at the expense of women.
Where Blasey, soft-spoken and gracious, assiduously courted the goodwill of both Republican and Democratic senators -- laughing at their jokes, patiently allowing them to complete questions and graciously asking for clarification when she didn't understand them, apologizing to them for any inconveniences or misunderstandings -- Kavanaugh burst into his testimony with a pout screwed to his flushed face, the look of a man who has just discovered his S-Class has been keyed. He was ready to brawl -- elementary-schoolyard style, with gratuitous sniffling and eye-rolling. He accused Democrats in his opening statement of executing "a calculated and orchestrated political hit," perhaps as "revenge on behalf of the Clintons."
When Democratic senators -- four of them women -- questioned Kavanaugh, his physical reactions were bizarrely juvenile; he squirmed and grimaced and made wounded eyes much like an aggrieved 8-year-old denied a long-awaited trip to Dairy Queen because he shoved his sister. He interrupted their questions to complain, in tones rising nearly to a shout, that these allegations were "sprung" on him at the last minute, or to ask them forlornly if they also liked beer.
In one particularly insolent exchange, he responded to Sen. Amy Klobuchar's question as to whether he'd ever drunk so much that he couldn't remember the next day what had happened by turning the question back on her -- twice. Needless to say, whether the Minnesota Democrat has ever been blackout drunk bears no relevance to Kavanaugh's Supreme Court appointment, nor was it Kavanaugh's place to ask her questions during the hearing. (After a brief break, having perhaps been informed that the optics on this were spectacularly poor, he reopened the hearing by apologizing to her.)
But Kavanaugh, like Blasey, was courting the goodwill of his audience -- at least of the audience that mattered to him. Where her anger would have irritated and alienated them, his braced them. Robin Lakoff, professor emerita of linguistics at the University of California, Berkeley, characterized his behavior as "hostile, angry, bullying, uncooperative," and noted in an email to HuffPost that "when a man, especially a powerful and entitled one, acts that way, it strengthens him in the eyes of many: he's manly, strong, and credible."
President Donald Trump, a summa cum laude graduate of this particular school of masculinity, reportedly disliked Kavanaugh's restrained, anodyne interview Monday on Fox News. The judge's little-boy-in-a-big-suit tantrum was transparently pitched toward the president, and reports indicate that it worked.
Meanwhile, from the hearing room, the men were whipped into a himpathetic fury. "What you want to do is destroy this guy's life, hold this seat open and hope you win in 2020," Graham hissed at his Democratic colleagues, his lip curling in a sneer. "This is the most unethical sham since I've been in politics. And if you really wanted to know the truth, you sure as hell wouldn't have done what you've done to this guy."
"This is worse than Clarence Thomas. I didn't think it could get any worse than that," Hatch said to Kavanaugh. "This is a national disgrace, the way you're being treated."
It seemed that witnessing visible anger on his behalf from Republican senators was the only thing that could bring Kavanaugh any measure of equanimity. Afterward, he was able to briefly smile or even joke during questioning. Their anger validated his own quivering rage; it clarified his apparent conviction that he is a victim.
"You're right to be angry," Sen. John Cornyn (R-Texas) told Kavanaugh repeatedly during his questioning.
The hearing was a celebration of male anger -- the power of anger to bring men together, to reinforce their certainty about what is owed to them as men and, of course, to sweep women's anger and pain to the side. Kavanaugh and the Republican senators rarely addressed Blasey or her credibility directly; rather confusingly, the party line was that she, too, was a victim, and that they bore no ill will toward her.
During Blasey's own testimony, she described in agonizing detail how she recalled Kavanaugh and his friend Mark Judge laughing as the future judge lay on top of her, covering her mouth with his hand and attempting to wrench off her clothes.
"You've never forgotten them laughing at you," Sen. Patrick Leahy (D-Vt.) said as he questioned her.
"They were laughing with each other," she replied, making a precise distinction. "I was underneath one of them while the two laughed. Two friends having a really good time with one another."
The assault and their laughter were indeed at her expense, but for those two boys, it wasn't about her. On Thursday, Kavanaugh and the Senate Republicans tried to get righteously angry without attacking a very sympathetic and credible accuser. Instead, they revealed that their anger, like that laughter 36 years ago, isn't even about her. Like everything else, it's all about them.