Opinion | In withdrawing, Matt Gaetz finds a new avenue to sidestep accountability
On Thursday, former congressman Matt Gaetz announced he was withdrawing from consideration by President-elect Donald Trump to serve as attorney general in his administration. The day before, after a two-hour closed-door meeting, the House Ethics Committee announced it would not at that time be releasing a report on Gaetz, the culmination of an investigation into allegations that Gaetz participated in sex parties, took illegal drugs and had sex with a minor. Gaetz reportedly announced his withdrawal on X after he was asked for comment about testimony concerning an alleged second and previously unreported sexual encounter with the minor, according to CNN. (Gaetz has repeatedly denied any wrongdoing and the DOJ closed its investigation into him without bringing charges.)
Gaetz was just one of many controversial Cabinet picks we’ve seen from Trump as he prepares to re-enter the White House, with Democrats and Republicans alike expressing surprise and concern. In fact, Gaetz’s sudden decision to remove himself from consideration one day after he courted senators was less surprising, to some, than the pick itself. “Holy s—! I didn’t see that coming,” Sen. John Fetterman reportedly said sarcastically after learning of Gaetz’s withdrawal. Some GOP senators are reportedly “relieved” by the news.
There is no “relief” in sight when the allegations against Gaetz did not automatically disqualify him for consideration on Day One.
Yet Gaetz’s withdrawal and the uncertain future of the ethics report don’t derail the trajectory the president-elect has already set for his future Cabinet — one that embraces not only the unqualified, but also men accused of sexual assault. There is no “relief” in sight when the allegations against Gaetz did not automatically disqualify him for consideration on Day One. There will be no relief as a result of his withdrawal, which potentially allows the former congressman to sidestep accountability and avoid further scrutiny, either.
Instead, lawmakers will continue to scratch their proverbial heads over Trump’s pick of former WWE executive and former Small Business Administration administer Linda McMahon for education secretary or television host and surgeon Mehmet Oz as the administrator of the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services. By any logical, reality-based standard, these picks would be unanimously viewed as laughable, inappropriate and even dismissible — but Trump has made it clear that normal standards no longer apply.
When Trump named Gaetz to head up the Justice Department, attention promptly turned to the sexual assault allegations surrounding the embattled lawmaker, including claims he had sex with a minor and was allegedly involved in sex trafficking alongside his former friend Joel Greenberg, who pleaded guilty to sex trafficking in 2021.
“Why is he so intent on picking the most controversial firebrand he can think of for every post?” NBC News’ Chuck Todd wrote, arguing that “politically, it just doesn’t make a lot of sense” for Trump to name a man investigated by the House Ethics Committee on allegations of sexual misconduct. A bevy of GOP senators were reportedly “stunned, and not in a good way,” by the Gaetz pick. Rep. Mike Simpson, R-Idaho, responded to the news by asking one reporter: “Are you s——-’ me?”
Yet, to be surprised at any of this feels painfully naive. The overall troubling theme is that men accused of sexual misconduct are not a bug, but a feature of the inner circle Trump is assembling for his administration.
In 2016, when the country first decided that a man accused of sexual assault or harassment by more than two dozen women was fit for the highest office in the land, I was admittedly shocked.
I watched in horror as acquaintances and family members celebrated Trump’s ascension when, just weeks prior, he was heard — on tape — bragging about grabbing women by their genitals without their consent. I tried and failed to follow the mental gymnastics deployed by some of the very people who at one point offered their heartfelt condolences, well-wishes and righteous indignation after I was sexually assaulted by a former co-worker, only to praise their god when Trump secured an electoral college victory.
I navigated post-traumatic stress disorder triggers as first-time president Trump endorsed Roy Moore, a man accused of pursuing relationships with underage girls (Moore denied the allegations), and defended his former White House staff secretary Rob Porter after he was accused of multiple instances of domestic violence (Porter denied the allegations but resigned from his post). I wept as now-Justice Brett Kavanaugh was confirmed to the Supreme Court — his accuser Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony discarded like the rape kit I endured that still, to this day, sits on a shelf somewhere in Oregon collecting dust and indifference.
Now, as the country prepares for Trump 2.0 despite his two impeachments, 34 felony convictions and a jury finding him liable for sexual abuse, that shock has eroded. And it’s been replaced by a cold disassociation that overtakes the body and mind when so many promises that good will overcome evil and justice will prevail crumble in front of your eyes.
It is a feeling many, including the 1 in 6 women and 1 in 10 men who will be victims of sexual assault at some point in their lives, know all too well. It’s what bombards the senses when you live in a country where fewer than 7% of rape cases will end in a conviction. It’s the familiar gut-punch that precedes a local prosecutor telling you there’s not enough evidence to go to trial; they’re sorry, but there’s nothing they can do; this is what happens when it’s “he says, she says.”
We know all too well how the country has historically placated toxic, misogynistic men in positions of power, overlooking or even embracing their sexist rhetoric as simply “men being men.”
It’s also why more than 200 survivors of sexual assault and gender-based violence signed a full-page ad in The New York Times urging — begging — voters not to reinstate Trump to the Oval Office. While others may have forgotten the tumult that defined his first presidency, those of us who called sexual assault hotlines at record-breaking rates during confirmation hearings and listened to him claim his accusers were too ugly to rape have not.
We know all too well how the country has historically placated toxic, misogynistic men in positions of power, overlooking or even embracing their sexist rhetoric as simply “men being men” or, later, engaging in “locker room talk.” We can still recall some Republican lawmakers calling our bodies “hosts” and claiming “legitimate rapes” don’t result in a pregnancy, only for the same political party to pretend it “respects life” and upholds “family values.”
It’s why very few of us were shocked when Gaetz at one point allegedly showed sexual videos of women to his fellow congressmen on the House floor, or when he cast the sole “no” vote on a 2017 anti-human trafficking bill.
And it’s why we weren’t surprised when prosecutors closed the investigation into whether Gaetz recruited women online for sex and paid with cash apps without bringing charges.
Even with Gaetz’s withdrawal, Trump’s Cabinet picks are shaping up to simply be a disaster — a collection of men accused of sexual assault, harassment or rape whose career trajectories appear unfazed by the allegations.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who was accused of sexually assaulting a woman in the 90s who worked in his home, responded to the allegation by saying on Breaking Points podcast that he was “not a church boy” and admitting he has “so many skeletons in my closet.”
And then there’s former Fox News host Pete Hegseth, who was investigated in connection with allegations of sexually assaulting a woman in 2017 and then paying to keep her silent. No charges were brought and his attorney denied the allegations.
In this context, the president-elect’s pick of Gaetz for attorney general feels, despite his withdrawal, like just another the canary in the coal mine, warning those who need reminding of what’s likely to come.