The Epstein Hysteria
On the ridiculous smear campaign against everyone who so much as sneezed in the vicinity of Epstein
The Epstein files debacle may go down as one of the most insane and reckless public investigations in American history.
Having one’s name appear somewhere in the vast trove of documents haphazardly disseminated by the administration is widely seen as legitimate grounds for public denunciation. In many cases, public figures like Sam Harris have been castigated for the severe crime of having once briefly exchanged an email with Epstein, in which Harris turned down an invitation to meet.
We read repeatedly that Epstein “went to jail for pedophilia,” in the decades before high-profile figures consorted with him. This would be surprising because no one in history has gone to jail for pedophilia. Pedophilia refers to attraction to minors. That is not a crime. What is a crime is sexual abuse of minors. If you are attracted to minors but do not sexually abuse them, then you don’t go to jail. If you are not attracted to minors but DO sexually abuse them, you still go to jail. This is entirely appropriate; the law should punish people based on their actions, not their mental states. This point is apparently too complex for various members of Congress who either don’t get it or are pretending not to.

The crime for which Epstein pled guilty was having sex with a 17-year-old on the day before her 18th birthday. That is surely not all he did, and for his other sex crimes, he should have been imprisoned. But it simply isn’t true that he was jailed for pedophilia. Pedophilia, as one will learn if they even so much as skim the Wikipedia page on the topic, is “sexual attraction to prepubescent children.” It is not true that Epstein was jailed for sexual attraction (or even sexual contact) with prepubescent children preceding his interactions with the cast of characters routinely being excoriated for their associations with him.
Why do I point this out? Because If It’s Worth Your Time To Lie, It’s Worth My Time To Correct It. And how to think about those who consorted with Epstein is partly a function of what Epstein was actually convicted of. If you say things that are false, and other people point that out, the burden isn’t on them to explain why they would correct the record: it’s on you to explain why you were willing to publicly lie about something easily checkable.
It has been widely seen as legitimate to share all of Epstein’s emails, with a few names redacted here and there. Those with whom he exchanged brief chit-chat have been pilloried. Those closer to Epstein—like Noam Chomsky—have been publicly lampooned by many of their former friends and acolytes. Being “in the Epstein files” is seen as sufficient proof of malfeasance even if one only briefly spoke with Epstein and no evidence of misconduct was uncovered.
This seems like a rather severe violation of privacy. Having tens of millions see confidential emails that you sent is bad enough (and this is the fate of a sizeable fraction of people who emailed Epstein at any point, for any reason). Yet when many of these people believe hysterical conspiracy theories including—in the case of one of our esteemed representatives—that Epstein and co were eating babies, it is particularly irresponsible. In any other case with less deranged public hysteria, there would be serious unease with sharing nearly all of a man’s private correspondence with the world. Amazingly, the administration so thoroughly botched the release of the documents that they made public the names of many of the alleged victims, against their will—an event described as “the single most egregious violation of victim privacy in one day in United States history.”
We learn from the Epstein files that a certain Yale professor emailed Epstein describing one of his students as “a perfect editoress” in part because she was a “v small goodlooking blonde.” This is undoubtedly gross behavior. But the public does not have some blanket right to know every immoral thing everyone ever did. Mere curiosity does not license trampling over the privacy of random citizens, who are neither public figures nor implicated in any way beyond sending creepy emails. This remains equally perverse even if the private citizen briefly consorted with Jeffrey Epstein.
Certainly Epstein committed serious crimes. Had he survived, it would have been appropriate for him to spend many years in jail. But this is a far cry from the almost mystical belief that mere association with Epstein is enough to taint one’s character.
Take Chomsky, as an example. His correspondence with Epstein began in 2015. This has been claimed, by those shrilly denouncing him, including former book coauthors and friends, to be evidence of such hideous misconduct that they cannot in good conscience even sit this one out. They are apparently compelled by their conscience, as a matter of duty, to publicly denounce their 97-year-old former hero, debilitated by a stoke so thoroughly that he can’t even mount a defense.
So Chomsky’s crime is that he consorted with Epstein about a decade after Epstein had finished serving prison time. Now, Epstein was accused of far more, but I don’t think it can be reasonably expected that one go judiciously snooping through old newspaper articles about the alleged misconduct of a friend, for which the friend was not even convicted. If one actually reads Chomsky’s correspondence with Epstein, there is no indication that he is aware of the severity of Epstein’s offenses.
As it happens, many years ago my family had over a convicted murderer, who had served his sentence, for Passover Seder. Does this merit public denunciation? Should I perhaps, like Chris Hedges, write a polemic denouncing my mother and father? The general standard, at least in most other cases, seems to be that once a person has finished serving their jail time, they are integrated back into society. If this is done with thieves and murderers, is there any reason that it shouldn’t be done with those convicted of having consensual sex with a 17-year-old? (Note: I am not saying this is all that Epstein did, only that this was all Epstein was convicted of at the time many of his friends knew him).
Perhaps this was irresponsible behavior. Perhaps even Chomsky and others acted somewhat badly by consorting with Epstein. But in the hierarchy of sins, this one seems minor. Consorting with a criminal who went to jail for thirteen months almost a decade after he was released is much less bad than a number of things that most people would do.
America is not unfamiliar with these kinds of moral panics. Sexual abuse of children is a real thing and it is among the worst crimes a person can commit. The world should do what can be done to root it out. Yet this noble impulse led, decades ago, to jailing innocent preschool teachers based on wild and hysterical claims of Satanic cabals sexually abusing children. We would be wise not to make the same mistake today.
There is always a new scandal used to justify the erosion of civil liberties. For McCarthy, it was communism. For Japanese internment, it was the war with Japan. Yet we have civil liberties precisely so that people’s rights aren’t trampled on whenever the public demands it. The Epstein overreach similarly starts from a legitimate impulse. Yet it has become hysterical madness, more reminiscent of Salem than the modern criminal justice system.
Unfortunately, in this case, nobody (save Michael Tracey) is willing to call out the lunacy. For left-wingers, vague Epstein-related innuendo has become politically beneficial. For high-profile right-wingers, denouncing the hysteria would lead to their base turning on them and claiming that they are implicated. Nobody has any incentive to call out the overreach or admit that a brief appearance in the maelstrom of documents that comprise “the Epstein files” is no decisive evidence of egregious misconduct.
The sensible response to the Epstein affair is the same as the response to other crimes. If people are credibly accused of crimes, they ought to be convicted. The fact that this case is higher profile than others is no reason for Epstein’s emails to be shared with the world, any more than Ted Bundy’s infamy is a reason for the sharing of his private letters. The public has no right to know everyone Epstein was ever in contact with, nor do those who briefly interacted with Epstein have any duty to apologize or explain their actions. The madness, at some point, must end.


𝗕𝗕 𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗘𝗽𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗻'𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 "𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗻𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘄𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘀." But by 2015, when Chomsky's correspondence began, the Epstein case was not some obscure footnote you'd need to dig for. The 2011 Daily Beast piece by Conchita Sarnoff was widely circulated. The 2015 Gawker flight log publication was a major news event. The Virginia Giuffre lawsuit against Maxwell, which named numerous powerful figures, was generating headlines across every major outlet. The basic facts — dozens of underage victims, a federal investigation that was killed, a plea deal widely condemned as corrupt — were not hidden knowledge. They were dinner party conversation in exactly the intellectual circles Chomsky moved in. This isn't about "snooping." It's about whether Noam Chomsky, a man who spent sixty years insisting that intellectuals have a responsibility to scrutinize power and hold the powerful accountable, bothered to Google someone he was actively befriending. The answer appears to be no, and that's not exculpatory — it's damning in its own way. Chomsky was the ultimate compulsive newspaper-reading sleuth, it's hard to believe he was unaware.
"𝗛𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗳𝗳" 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸. BB's framing throughout is that Epstein was convicted of a minor offense and therefore it was reasonable to treat him as someone who'd served his time. But the reason Epstein wasn't convicted of the serious stuff 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆. This wasn't a case where the FBI investigated and found insufficient evidence. They had the evidence. They drafted the indictment. Acosta killed it. This was public knowledge by 2015 — the corruption of the plea deal had been reported extensively, including a detailed 2011 Daily Beast investigation. So "he wasn't convicted" isn't the clean defense BB thinks it is. It's more like saying "well, the mob boss was only convicted of tax evasion, so why would you assume he was involved in organized crime?" The gap between what Epstein did and what he was convicted of was the story, and it was a widely known story.
"𝗛𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝘀𝗼 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗱" 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁. Epstein served 13 months in a county jail under a work-release program that allowed him to leave for 12 hours a day, six days a week, to go to his office. The Palm Beach Sheriff's department later acknowledged this arrangement was irregular. A federal judge subsequently ruled the plea deal itself was illegal because prosecutors violated the Crime Victims' Rights Act by not notifying victims. So the sentence Epstein "served" was the product of a deal that a federal judge later found to be unlawful, under conditions that barely qualified as incarceration. Invoking "he served his time" as though this represents the justice system working as intended requires ignoring everything publicly known about why that sentence was what it was.
𝗢𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 "𝗻𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆" 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗺: BB says if you read the correspondence, there's no sign Chomsky knew about Epstein's crimes. But what exactly would that indication look like? People don't typically write "I know you trafficked children but let's have dinner anyway" in emails. The absence of explicit acknowledgment in correspondence is not evidence of ignorance — it's evidence of correspondence. What we do know is that Chomsky visited Epstein's Manhattan townhouse, which multiple visitors have described as containing overtly disturbing imagery including a painting of Bill Clinton in a dress and photographs of young women. We know Chomsky and Epstein discussed having Epstein help rearrange Chomsky's finances, including transfers related to Chomsky's wife. We know Chomsky arranged for Epstein to meet with other academics. None of this proves Chomsky knew about the abuse. But it shows a level of financial and social intimacy that goes well beyond "briefly spoke with Epstein," which is how BB frames it despite calling Chomsky someone "closer to Epstein" in the same paragraph.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗖𝗵𝗼𝗺𝘀𝗸𝘆'𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲. BB frames criticism of Chomsky as kicking a debilitated 97-year-old who can't defend himself. But the criticism isn't directed at present-day Chomsky — it's directed at the choices 2015-2018 Chomsky made. The fact that he later had a stroke doesn't retroactively change whether those choices were defensible. And the reason people feel strongly about it is precisely because of who Chomsky was — not some random academic, but the person who more than perhaps anyone else in American intellectual life insisted that proximity to power requires moral scrutiny, that intellectuals who fail to challenge institutional crimes are complicit, and that "I didn't know" is not an acceptable defense when the information was available. The criticism of Chomsky is ultimately Chomskyian. People are applying his own framework to him and finding him wanting.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗕𝗕 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁: Nobody has presented evidence that Chomsky participated in or knew about the sexual abuse. That matters and should be stated clearly. The criticism of Chomsky is about judgment, not criminality. And there is a meaningful distinction between "this person showed terrible judgment in who they associated with" and "this person committed crimes." Matthew is correct that the public discourse often collapses that distinction. Where he goes wrong is in using that valid point to suggest there's nothing worth criticizing at all — that Chomsky's choices were reasonable given what was publicly known. They weren't, and the reason they weren't is fully available in the public record that existed before Chomsky ever emailed Epstein.
I can understand your perspective but I don’t think people are overreacting, in fact we are underreacting. Politicians overreact for the sake of performance, most of their career is a performance. But in actuality, nothing is happening. No one except Ghislaine Maxwell has been arrested despite evidence of thousands of children being abused and trafficked. I understand your point but I think the criticism should be geared towards public figures. Performative overreactions don’t help anyone. But as a collective, we are disgustingly under reacting to the pedophilic and abusive nature of our country’s elite (the people who control nearly every aspect of our economic and political lives).