American Bitch: Girls tackles the truth about sexual harassment

Lena Dunham’s Girls took on sexual harassment in this week’s episode.
Lena Dunham’s Girls took on sexual harassment in this week’s episode. Photograph: Richard Shotwell/AP

It was just a coincidence, but perhaps an apt one, that the latest episode of Girls screened a few days after the ex-Uber engineer Susan Fowler published a blog post detailing the sexual harassment and sexism that she experienced in her career at the company. Propositioned for sex by her manager on her very first day, Fowler reported the issue to human resources.

But her complaints fell on deaf ears, as if her boss’ technical proficiency gave him a free pass when it came to inappropriate sexual conduct. In the episode American Bitch, Girls examines this phenomenon in a different milieu – book publishing, instead of tech – but engages with the broader issue of how success affects the way in which some men take license to behave with women whom they encounter in professional contexts.

The episode opens with protagonist Hannah Horvath (Lena Dunham) paying a visit to the wildly successful novelist Chuck Palmer, played by Matthew Rhys. Chuck has summoned Hannah to his home to discuss a post she’s written on an obscure feminist blog in response to accusations by college-age women that he forced them into sex acts without their consent. Chuck’s annoyance seems less driven by the effect of this on his reputation than by the fact that Hannah declares in her piece that she’s a fan of his work, that it’s important to her, but the accusations has made her admire him less.

Their encounter is less about Chuck defending his sexual ethics as much as it is about him persuading Hannah that he is, after all, a nice guy. (A subtext is also that he finds her attractive – when he states that he hasn’t invited any other of his critics to pay him a visit, any woman who has ever published writing online must conclude that Chuck has Googled Hannah’s image.)

For young women, or those of us who were once young women, the scenario is not unfamiliar: when professional power is occupied by men, it’s not uncommon to find yourself in a situation when the lines between work and sex become blurred. In my 20s, it happened to me when I was working at a college student in a restaurant – hugs and back rubs from my manager escalated to sexual assault – and it happened to me when I was a little older, trying to make my way in journalism.

It was not until the third time I found myself being plied with wine by a powerful man 25 years older than me that I felt forced to confront the fact that his interest in me – their interest in me – was not focused on the quality of my work, that these men weren’t taking bright young men out to their private clubs for an evening to “discuss writing”.

In all of these cases – mine, Susan Fowler’s the situation portrayed on Girls – the ingredient of power makes it difficult for the woman to find a way forward. In Fowler’s case, taking a hard line against her harasser lead to the failure of her career at Uber. On Girls, as Hannah’s initial resistance to Chuck softens as he tells her how “smart” she is, listens attentively to her discussing her feelings about literature, and gives her a signed copy of a favorite novel as a gift.

When the encounter culminates in Chuck unzipping his pants and offering Hannah his penis, some might find her behavior, and subsequent shock, naive. But it’s understandable: why shouldn’t we hope for the best of intentions from people we admire, even though signs may point to them having other agendas?

“Why didn’t you leave?” is a facile question often addressed to women who describe their experiences with sexism and sexual harassment at work. American Bitch shows why not not: if women live our lives believing and anticipating that men are only interested in us for one thing, then the gendered nature of power means that we are vastly limiting our opportunities.

But if the dice fall against us when we take a gamble that someone’s intentions are good, is it our fault when they aren’t? The answer should be no, but as Hannah’s face reveals in the final shot of the episode, as she walks away from Chuck’s apartment: it can be hard to feel certain.