I think Eric Swalwell THINKS he did nothing wrong. Let's talk about that. A lot.
So about 30 years ago, I was working at one of the most famous fintech companies in the world when we had a particularly horrific sexual assault scandal in management. Rather than let the company just pay the victims off, the judge overseeing the settlement demanded that the company bring in a court-approved HR consultant and put every single employee through an anti-sexual-abuse training seminar.
So I ended up in a conference room with a dozen-ish sullen coworkers I don't know and this HR consultant, and she opens the actual seminar with a question:
When is it appropriate to sexually proposition a subordinate?
And as usual, nobody wants to go first. So I wait a long time, by my standards, and stick up a hand and get called on, and gave the answer my dad raised me with:
Never. Don't look for meat where you make your bread. Don't fish off of the company pier. If your written job duties don't include sex with co-workers, don't have sex with your co-workers.
You would have thought I'd endorsed human sacrifice. Everybody on both sides, the consultant and my co-workers, stared screaming at me all at once, and then in relays, and it was made clear that nothing else was going to be discussed, the Maoist self-correction circle was going to continue, until I admitted I was wrong. Nobody who knows me will pretend to be surprised that I stuck by my guns and wore them down. I lost that argument, but I didn't surrender.
And I was told, by both sides, that that was unrealistic. That busy working professionals only go two places, work and home, that they're either working or sleeping. So where else are they supposed to meet prospective partners? (Church? Neighborhood associations? Referrals from friends or family? Hobbies, for Christ's sake? "Unrealistic. Nobody does that.")
But remember, I was staking out a broader principle, the actual question that was asked wasn't "co-worker," it was "subordinate."
So when the consultant grudgingly went on and gave the "right" answer, the court-ordered and approved answer was, "as many times as you want until or unless they explicitly tell you to stop." I asked for and got clarification on that, and no, she didn't mean until they say "no," because what if they change their mind? It's not sexual harassment, abuse, or assault until they in as many words explicitly say "stop asking me that." They have to use those words.
So I asked, "And how do you know if they want you to keep asking, or that they mean it when they say 'yes,' if you're in a position to fire them if they say no? How can you tell the difference between a coerced versus an un-coerced silent consent?" And that bitch actually said to me with a straight and stern face, "That is the risk we all take."
I've learned even more in the last thirty years that just makes it more obvious to me that as a species, we are far overdue to have some hard conversations about what is okay and what is not okay.
For one thing, experimental psychology has shown that if you give one person any even trivial amount of authority over another, they are statistically more likely to mistake minimal politeness for flirtation. Both genders are vulnerable to this, no matter how they were brought up, which makes assuming "they're really into me" not an even vaguely safe assumption.
But when you combine it with the other well-known fact that all of us in general, but also women more than men, are taught to fawn over superiors? In a species were any even trivial obsequiousness is commonly mistaken for sexual interest?
There's a phrase for the result of that combination, and I don't care how much the worst people in the world hate it: that's rape culture. If you propositioned someone who wouldn't necessarily feel safe saying no or feel safe leaving, whether they said yes or no or just kept their mouth shut, even if it was because they did want it you don't know that.
You may well have been the rapist, the assaulter, the abuser, whether you know it or not. And if you value your own self-respect, let alone the safety of others, that's a stupid risk to take.
Don't look for meat where you make your bread. Don't fish off of the company pier. If your written job duties don't include sex with co-workers, don't have sex with your co-workers. And if you're afraid those rules mean celibacy, get a life.
Let me play you out on a song, Emeline's "What it means to be a girl."
... Be polite, spend the night / Call it self-defense. / Got the time of his life at my own expense. / But even if he were my man / He'd never truly understand / What it means to be a girl ...