Why Ghislaine Maxwell deserves nothing

We collectively owe our time and attention to those women’s stories, especially in light of a new sweetheart deal proposed to Maxwell to share what she knows about Jeffrey Epstein, Donald Trump and others. At the time of writing, Maxwell was seeking to delay her testimony, having already been moved to a low-security prison in what many will see as a reward for agreeing to talk. This suggests that even as a convicted sex trafficker, Maxwell can still use her connections to influence the powerful. Her victims were never granted the same courtesy or kid gloves.

Maxwell is often painted as a complicit sidekick or consigliere of Epstein, but Osbourne-Crowley’s account of her role in securing and sexually trafficking and abusing scores of young girls clearly differentiates her crimes. It gives space and credibility to the horrific experiences of the women she used and abused. 

The Lasting Harm is a detailed and forensic telling of the abuse and coverup of girls being trafficked and abused. It uncovers the layers of grooming, the hierarchy of choosing victims and then coercing victims into a horrific Ponzi scheme where those same young girls become part of the cycle of recruiting other young girls to remain in the good graces of Maxwell and Epstein.

It gives us four victim’s stories, including that of Annie Farmer, who is the exact same age as me. She was in her mid-20s when Epstein and Maxwell started abusing her.

We are a party to Maxwell instructing young girls how to massage Jeffrey Epstein. We are there as she performs sex acts on him in front of the girls to normalise the abuse. Ghislaine, under the guise of teaching and being a big sister figure to the girls, goes from discussing British literature to instructing a 16-year-old to undress, covering her with a sheet and then exposing and massaging her breasts nonchalantly. 

The book is a complicated and difficult read. I have met Lucia in my work as a campaigner against male-perpetrated violence against women and consider her a friend. I went to the launch for The Lasting Harm, but for a long time the book sat unopened on my shelf, next to Sister in Law by Harriet Wistrich of the Centre for Women’s Justice, The Unthinkable by David Challen, The New Age of Sexism by Laura Bates, Outrage by Ellen Jones and Six Conversations We’re Scared to Have by Deborah Francis White of the Guilty Feminist podcast.

These are books by authors I respect and support; books I have the best intentions of reading; but when I am overwhelmed or despairing about the state of the news, I tend to seek solace in epic fictional family sagas and use literature to hide from the reality of misogyny and hate that these authors painstakingly detail in their work. Even though I am more well informed than most, there are times where the work to fight back for women’s rights, safety and autonomy seems like a Sissyphean task.

Osbourne-Crowley reports these words from the opening statement of the US assistant district attorney Lara Pomerantz: “Before I describe those so-called massages for you, let me just say, and I know this is hard to hear, but these are the facts of this case. This is what happened to these children. These are the crimes the defendant and Epstein committed.”

Lucia writes: “I circle this statement several times in my notebook. This is something I‘ve been very interested in lately: in out movement towards acknowledging sexual abuse, it seems to me that we have a way to go in terms of actually being willing to hear the detail of it.”

Suggested Reading

The real estate story of Trump and Epstein

Rats in a Sack

During the trial, the government calls Dr Lisa Roccio, a clinical and forensic psychologist with over 30 years of experience treating victims of child sexual assault, to testify about delayed disclosure. She says that “victims are most likely to make the first disclosure to a peer, often their first romantic or physically intimate partners.” This segues into Lucia discussing the details of her own sexual abuse and experience with delayed disclosure. 

I point this section out because during jury selection for the Maxwell trial, I remember discussion on morning talk shows about whether or not women who had been the victims of sexual harassment, assault or abuse were qualified to be on juries that deal with sexual based offences. Maxwell’s legal team also tried and failed to get her conviction quashed because a juror didn’t disclose that he had been a victim of child sexual abuse.

Just let that settle for a moment. If any woman who had experienced sexual harassment (estimated at 97% in England and Wales) were not qualified to sit on juries for cases involving sexual offences, we’d be guaranteeing they were heard by all-male juries. I’d argue that my trauma formed experience with offenders and survivors actually makes me more qualified to hear and pass judgment on these cases. That’s what The Lasting Harm does for the women who were victims of Ghislaine Maxwell and Jeffrey Epstein, and for all survivors. 

I had to take a number of breaks while reading, reminding me of the privilege involved in being able to bury your head in the sand. The magnitude of the crimes; the structured recruitment and grooming of those girls; the decades of threats and fear – they are all devastating. These girls never did get a pass, or the chance to look away. They deserve our attention and respect for that, and for the fact that they brought Ghislaine Maxwell down. 

I never write in books or fold down pages, but I circled this sentence in The Lasting Harm: “The defendant didn’t count on those teenage girls growing up into the women who testified at this trial.”

Jane, Kate, Carolyn and Annie (some pseudonyms) deserve this book, which forensically lays out the state’s case against Maxwell, the intricacies, the cruelty and the damage. One victim at a time. One expert at a time. They deserve this author, who dissects and shares her own trauma for the better understanding of the extensive and lasting harm done to sexually exploited children.

The book makes us understand what those now negotiating with Ghislaine Maxwell seem not to care to care about. That she was in locus parentis. That she was supposed to be the safety net, the reason some parents and some of the girls themselves thought that everything would be OK.

Yet she orchestrated, participated in and normalised decades of sexual abuse of countless victims in numerous countries. She used a dog to pick up girls for Epstein’s use. She offered scholarships, shopping trips, help with musical careers and anything else available to gain trust, trust that would then be manipulated to demand sexual acts and secrecy. 

Suggested Reading

How the Epstein scandal broke MAGA

James Ball

In closing arguments, the prosecutor Alison Moe said: “She targeted a girl whose father just died. She targeted a girl whose mother was an alcoholic… Maxwell was a sophisticated predator who knew exactly what she was doing.”

Moe continued: “She ran the same playbook again and again, she manipulated her victims and groomed them for sexual abuse. She caused deep and lasting harm to young girls. It is time to hold her accountable.”

Now, in the name of ‘clearing’ Donald Trump’s name in connection with Epstein – she has reportedly claimed that she saw Trump do nothing untoward in his company – Ghislaine Maxwell may not be held accountable for much longer. Her future has been given much more care and consideration than that of any of the victims in this case. 

The justice system found Ghislaine Maxwell guilty. The women were heard, the jury decided. Now that is all once again being jeopardised to protect Trump and to satisfy the frothing MAGA crowd.

We need to stand up for Jane, Kate, Carolyn, Annie, Virginia, and for all of the other victims. We don’t need the Epstein Files. We just need to listen to and believe these women. 

Jamie Klingler is co-founder of Reclaim These Streets