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Simply? You lose, most of the time, when you "come forward". There is no parade, there are no articles in the New Yorker about your bravery, you just lose you
by TameAntelope 5y ago
Simply? You lose, most of the time, when you "come forward". There is no parade, there are no articles in the New Yorker about your bravery, you just lose your livelihood, your dreams, and sometimes your life.
It's a sad, often poorly understood reality about whistle blowing, given the heavy survivorship involved. For every success story you hear, there are dozens you don't hear about, because nobody believed them, they were successfully demonized, or because it wasn't "big" enough to really, ultimately matter to American society in a way that could effect change.
That's why it's so impressive when people to come forward anyway, knowing this. It's far from "risk free" to come forward, and usually it's a gigantic negative experience, sometimes rivaling the original abuse itself in negative impact on your life. It's one thing to have the worst day of your life happen, now imagine having to relive it publicly, forever.
- danparsonson 5y agoExactly this. In such situations the culture of abuse is deeply embedded in the organisation, so everyone from senior management through HR down to junior staff will turn on you; they'll make your work environment unbearable, berate you for any compassionate leave you're granted (assuming you can squeeze that much out of them), hold 'investigations' that exhonerate the company and the accused even in the face of blatant video evidence, downgrade your performance appraisals, and, since senior staff tend to have friends at other companies in your industry, potentially make it difficult for you to get a job elsewhere. Anyone who comes forward in such circumstances (having, let's not forget, already suffered bad treatment through no fault of their own) demonstrates a great deal of bravery.