Monday, 29 December 2025

A culture of revolution and some old-fashioned values


Kristin Cabot’s sad, self-aware, penetrating look in a photo in The New York Times reminded me of two things: how upset I felt last summer with the way “the world” (it was indeed the whole world) reacted and treated her when being caught on Jumbotron in the arms of her boss at a Coldplay concert; and how I never thought about them (and her) again after those first few explosive days.

Her interview for The New York Times reveals well-known, everyday “banalities” in human relationships: people in the process of divorcing their spouses, meeting other people, some time at their workplace, feeling good with each other, getting closer, etc. etc. Her telling the story intensified the distress I remember feeling at the time. There were details I didn’t know, of course, such as the fact that they were both getting separated or that they hadn’t even kissed before the day we all got to know them or that, after her company’s internal investigation, she was invited to continue working for them. I also didn’t know, but I could have imagined, the way she was treated by different “righteous” people – neighbours, acquaintances, people who simply recognised her, paparazzi camped outside her home, people who called her (500 to 600 calls a day), people who sent her death threats. She was called “a slut, a homewrecker, a gold digger, a side piece”. Not to mention being humiliated by famous people - Whoopi Goldberg, Gwyneth Paltrow – and also a sports mascot.

Through the interview, I discovered an extraordinary person – in the way so many people are extraordinary in their mundane, everyday lives. I thought then and I am thinking now: Why all this furor and cruelty, at an international level, for two people we didn’t know? Why so many were so angry at them? Why the death threats? What have we become?

Monica Lewinsky (Photo: Greg Gorman)

Just by chance, as it sometimes happens, a much better known person came up in my readings after I read Cabot’s interview. She calls herself “patient zero of cyberbullying” and her name is Monica Lewinsky. Now, here’s someone I hadn’t thought about for a very long time. I found out that in 2006 she got a master's degree in psychology from the London School of Economics and that, since 2014, she has been an activist against cyberbullying. I dag a bit more, as I hadn’t heard about her for such a long time. I found the picture of a smiling, calm, self-confident woman. I also found a TED Talk from 2015, called “The price of shame”. Listening to her retelling the story we know so well, and although the guy she fell for was not as anonymous to us as Kristin Cabot’s ex-boss, one finds so many similarities: the fury and anger of the world, the constant humiliation, the distress and misery (that also affects one’s loved ones – Lewinski’s parents, Cabot’s teenage children and mother), the suicidal thoughts… What we have become today has long been in the making. The content is the same, the impact is much stronger, due to the means. What pushes us are the same petty instincts that have always made people throw stones.

In her TED Talk, Lewinsky says that “As far as the culture of humiliation goes, what we need is a culture of revolution. (…) We need to return to a long-held value of compassion, compassion and empathy.” (“The price of shame” is the title of the talk. Whose shame, I am thinking…).

This reference to long-held values reminded me of a recent speech by someone I deeply admire, Elaine Heumann Gurian. Elaine was invited to speak on MuseumNext Focus about some paths to museum resistance in the age of Trump. Her talk is entitled “Facing our fears while welcoming the future as an old-fashioned past” and it finishes like this:

“We are everywhere and we say ‘no’.

We do everything

We do everything together

We do everything together in support of each other

We do everything together in support of each other all the time.”

I smile at the idea of a cultural revolution based on “old-fashioned” values of empathy, compassion, solidarity, care. I think of all the extraordinarily mundane people I know, and those I read about, and you know what? I find hope.

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