T

his past week, White 
House Staff Secretary 
Rob 
Porter 
resigned 

after 
a 
scandal 
emerged 

regarding allegations of domestic 
abuse from his two ex-wives. An 
article by The New York Times 
reported Chief of Staff John F. 
Kelly and Joe Hagin, deputy 
chief of staff for operations, 
knew about the accusations 
in late fall. In response to the 
resignation, President Donald 
Trump tweeted, “Peoples (sic) 
 

lives are being shattered and 
destroyed by a mere allegation. 
Some are true and some are false. 
Some are old and some are new. 
There is no recovery for someone 
falsely accused - life and career 
are gone. Is there no such thing 
any longer as Due Process?”

Amid the sentencing of 

Larry Nassar, former USA 
Gymnastics and Michigan State 
University doctor, there will 
be an investigation regarding 
“reports 
and 
accusations 

that Michigan State officials 
and coaches were told of 
Dr. Nassar’s behavior years 
before it became public, yet 
did nothing to stop him from 
treating athletes.” According 
to an article by The New York 
Times, multiple victims shared 
their experiences with trusted 
university officials but were 
ignored or not taken seriously. 
Nassar’s reputation protected 
him from facing accusations 
for years.

If you Google the question 

“who 
knew 
about 
Harvey 

Weinstein?” you will find a few 
pages worth of headlines and 
articles reiterating the claim that 
everyone in the industry knew 
about Weinstein’s behavior, even 
before The New York Times 
broke the story, even before The 
New Yorker published their 
investigation with accounts from 
multiple women. Women in the 
industry used whisper networks 
— 
informal 
communication 

channels used to share stories — 
to warn each other of predators 
who might run in the same 
circles. Actress Jessica Chastain 
tweeted, “I was warned from 
the beginning. The stories were 
everywhere. To deny that is to 

create an environment for it to 
happen again.”

I know that one of these 

things is not like the other. Nassar 
has been sentenced, Weinstein 
resigned from his company’s 
board and has been pushed out of 
the industry. Porter is just facing 
allegations and no investigations 
have been done; we only have the 
word of the women.

There 
is 
an 
interesting 

pattern here. These are just three 
examples of numerous instances 
in which people knew about the 
wrongdoing of reputable men and 
failed to speak out or step up. The 
careers and lives of Weinstein 
and Nassar were prioritized over 
the harm they continued to cause 
while they were left unchecked. 
Porter was given a privileged 
position in the White House 
despite the FBI’s report on his 
abusive background.

From vulnerable young men 

and women in the film industry 
to children hoping for treatment 
for their athletic injuries, the 
victims were supposed to be 
protected, whether by agents, 
coaches or other authorities. 
None 
of 
these 
men 
were 

operating in total secrecy. But 
those who had the knowledge 
and power to intervene did 
nothing; they didn’t even seek 
to impose consequences until 
the accusations became widely 
known. Maybe it was a desire 
to not rock the boat, or denial 
that someone they knew could 
behave in such a way. Maybe it 
was belittling the trauma of the 
survivors of harassment, assault 
and abuse.

Due process hasn’t gone 

anywhere. I don’t intend to 
advocate for the abandonment 
of due process or the notion of 

innocent until proven guilty. But 
I think it’s important to keep in 
mind that the people who are 
victimized by the justice system, 
the ones whose lives and careers 
truly are ruined by falsehoods, 
are not the people the president 
is talking about in his tweet. A 
powerful, white man who held 
a position in the White House 
would not lose everything should 
it come out that the accusations 
are false.

Some people will leap to 

defend men who have been 
accused. But we often don’t 
extend the same benefit of the 
doubt to the victims, often 
(though not always, by any means) 
women, who are speaking up. 
The individual accomplishments 
of the man are considered — his 
job, his success, his charm, etc. — 
are often presented as some sort 
of evidence for why he couldn’t 
possibly have committed the 
crime of which he was accused. 
But while this is happening, the 
accusers are being grouped into 
a cruel category: women who are 
lying, who are exacting revenge, 
who are just looking for attention. 
Speaking up often brings a slew 
of hate. Not speaking up right 
away comes, too, with its own 
problems. If they didn’t come 
forward right away, that’s cause 
for suspicion.

There is no right way to be 

a victim. Accusers are othered; 
speculations are made regarding 
what might motivate someone to 
ruin a man’s life, and the notion 
that they are simply telling the 
truth, hoping for justice or to 
prevent further action, can be 
found near the bottom of the 
list. Who are victims supposed 
to trust, if they are not protected 
by a system put in place to care 
for them, or if they can’t count 
on someone with power and 
knowledge to stand up against 
what is obviously wrong? What 
are victims supposed to do, 
when their names and lives and 
dragged through the mud while 
their abuser is defended in the 
name of due process?

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Friday, February 16, 2018

DAYTON HARE

Managing Editor

420 Maynard St. 

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

ALEXA ST. JOHN

Editor in Chief
 ANU ROY-CHAUDHURY AND 

ASHLEY ZHANG
Editorial Page Editors

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board. 

All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

Samantha Goldstein

Elena Hubbell
Emily Huhman
Jeremy Kaplan

 
 
 
 

Sarah Khan

Lucas Maiman

Ellery Rosenzweig

Jason Rowland

Anu Roy-Chaudhury

 
 
 
 

 

Ali Safawi

Kevin Sweitzer
Tara Jayaram
 Ashley Zhang

In case of emergency

I 
 

grew up the son of a 
single mother who put 
herself through college 

while raising two kids. I 
vividly remember days as a kid 
when my mother would take 
me with her to college. She 
expected my sister and I to go 
to college when the time came. 
We also knew, however, that 
there wouldn’t be much in the 
way of savings to pay for it. My 
attendance at the University of 
Michigan is, in many ways, made 
possible by a stroke of luck.

From my first days on 

campus as a freshman serving 
on Hall Council, to my time as 
a recruiter for the University 
and the College of Engineering, 
to my work on Central Student 
Government, I get up every 
day with the goal of trying to 
pay forward the many gifts 
I’ve been given in my short 
time here. CSG has built a lot 
of momentum toward a more 
equitable campus for all. This 
coming school year, we must 
pick up the mantle and carry 
on that work. I’ll be fighting 
to earn your vote to become 
the next CSG president so that 
we can continue the important 
mission of promoting justice 
and facilitating success for 
students of all backgrounds.

I’ve seen firsthand both 

CSG’s great potential and its 
shortcomings. When students 
committed to service come 
together 
on 
this 
campus, 

amazing things can happen. 
But a culture of self-interest 
and 
division 
fractures 
the 

fundamental 
trust 
between 

CSG 
and 
students. 
Many 

students confess to me that 
CSG is a non-factor in their 
University experience. While 
some get by just fine without 
it, many others find themselves 
in great need of the advocacy 

and assistance that CSG can 
provide. Our leadership must 
be united to have an impact. 
That’s why I’m running with 
LSA 
Representative 
Charlie 

Bingham, a junior majoring in 
political science and my good 
friend.

Charlie and I are of the 

same mind when it comes to 
the responsibility CSG has 
toward the people it serves. 
My faith in him is ironclad, 
not 
just 
because 
we 
are 

like-minded 
on 
that 
most 

fundamental 
responsibility, 

but because he’s not afraid to 
disagree with me when the 
course of action isn’t clear.

The course of action on 

the issues facing our campus 
is rarely clear. What our 
campaign 
seeks 
to 
do 
is 

foster a discussion about the 
policies we believe are most 
important — a robust, process-
oriented agenda with justice 
for students as our North Star. 
On our campaign’s website 
you can see our platform in its 
entirety. As our school makes 
plans to increase enrollment, 
we must be ready to adapt. Our 
team is ready to get to work 
for the student body, with the 
intent of increasing resources 
for mental and physical well-
being, 
tackling 
academic 

affairs 
such 
as 
textbook 

affordability, 
adopting 

successful Big Ten measures 
to promote student success, 
improving 
government 

relations—including 
expanding voting and housing 
rights—and 
addressing 

issues of sustainability and 
representation that can make 
the campus a better place down 
the road. In the coming weeks, 
we intend to publish several 
policy memos so as to prove 
the talk about our governance 
goes beyond conjecture.

There are some battles 

that will seem unwinnable. 
But for our prosperity and 
for the sake of students yet 
to attend, we are obligated to 
rise to the challenge, to meet 
the problems head-on with a 
mind toward one day solving 
them. It is fruitless to identify 
a problem without attempting 
to tackle it.

When it comes to securing 

justice for all students, we 
have our work cut out for 
us. We also have a great 
deal 
of 
momentum 
 
on 

which to capitalize. Student 
government has always been 
the clearest way for me to 
promote justice. As your CSG 
president and vice president, 
we will endeavor to serve 
with honor and dedication to 
build new programs that help 
people feel more at home here 
and reshape their relationship 
with 
the 
University, 
tear 

down barriers that have led 
to negative experiences for 
so many on our campus, and 
tackle the issues that affect us 
today and in the future. The 
strides we collectively take 
will determine our progress. 
This is our moment to define 
that progress.

Why I’m running

What if we stood up for women

DANIELLE COLBURN | COLUMN

Danielle Colburn can be reached at 

decol@umich.edu

A.J Ashman is an Engineering 

Junior

L 

ast 
week, 
in 
an 

unfortunate 
and 

thankfully 
brief 

sequence of events, I found 
myself in the emergency room 
of the Ohio State University 
Wexner Medical Center.

A progressively concerning 

headache brought a halt to my 
weekend visiting a friend, but 
my short and eventful stay 
in the ER that night revealed 
much about the flaws and 
dangers of the current United 
States health care system.

Apart from the anxiety 

caused by my subpar health 
and the surrounding chaos 
of doctors and nurses, I was 
taken aback by an understated 
consequence of the ER—the 
financial burden. Sitting with 
an IV in my arm, a man came up 
to inform me that in addition 
to the hundreds of dollars in 
medical costs my insurance 
plan would cover, I had to pay 
a $150 copay out of pocket for 
my visit.

Fortunate enough to be 

able to cover this expense, I 
did so while keeping in mind 
the 
prospect 
of 
someone 

unable to pay this cost for 
the treatment of the critical 
medical problem they might be 
experiencing. Because of the 
steep costs, emergency rooms 
deter 
countless 
low-income 

patients 
seeking 
immediate 

medical treatment, and those 
who come and cannot pay 
place an additional burden on 
the hospital. Until emergency 
rooms 
and 
hospitals 
make 

health care more affordable, 
they will continue to impose 
stresses on their patients as 
well as the medical service 
providers themselves.

In a 2014 study conducted 

by the Healthcare Cost and 
Utilization 
Project, 
results 

highlighted that low-income 
patients comprised only 34.4 
percent of total ER visits, 
despite the fact that adults who 
fall under the federal poverty 
line are five times more likely 
to report being in fair or 
poor health than those with 
incomes four times higher than 
the poverty line.

This statistic illustrates the 

dangers that high-cost health 
care can have on the well-being 
of those who cannot afford it. 
Poor adults, some of whom 
live in areas without adequate 
nutritional 
and 
medical 

resources, are at a preexisting 
disadvantage when it comes to 
bearing the burden of hospital 
costs. Without the means to 
sustain a healthy lifestyle, 
ER visits would seem more 
prevalent within this group, 
yet the data reveals a general 
inability to pay for these 
medical services.

According 
to 
the 
1986 

Emergency Medical Treatment 
and Active Labor Act, in the 
case of an emergency, neither 
private nor public hospitals 
are allowed to deny care to any 
patient. This presents a moral 
dilemma to any patient who 
does not have health insurance 
to cover the costs: Either 
find another, less effective 
treatment 
to 
a 
potential 

emergency or go to the hospital 
knowing a collection agency 
will hunt you down should you 
not pay.

While the data reveals 

the majority of low-income 
patients choose not to go to 
the ER at all, the hospital 
also bears a large burden 
from those who do come 
and cannot pay, a cost for 
“uncompensated care.”

In fact, even when President 

Barack 
Obama 
passed 
the 

Affordable Care Act in 2010 
to 
provide 
health 
care 
for 

more 
Americans, 
hospitals 

incurred about $40 billion in 
uncompensated 
care 
costs. 

With President Donald Trump’s 
constant attempts to weaken 
the ACA, it follows that the 

uncompensated care costs for 
hospitals will increase as fewer 
people own health insurance.

Ultimately, the consequences 

of a low-income, uninsured 
patient visiting the ER fall across 
a number of parties.

The patient endures the 

stress 
of 
receiving 
medical 

care that is necessary, yet at 
the same time medical care 
that they know will cause long-
term 
financial 
consequences. 

A 2016 study showed that an 
uninsured patient who visits 
the ER doubles their chances of 
filing for bankruptcy in the next 
four years, highlighting that the 
burden on the patient is financial 
as much as it is emotional.

For 
the 
hospital, 

uncompensated care costs can 
lead to pay cuts for employees, 
layoffs and the cutting of 
certain services. But not all of 
these costs fall on the hospital 
—taxpayer money is used to 
support the debt accrued due 
to poor patients, and some 
government 
 
spending 
is 

allocated 
toward 
financing 

this deficit (per the ACA).

Thus, it is evident the 

consequences of high health 
care 
costs 
for 
low-income 

patients who need immediate 
medical care are wide ranging 
and effect more than the 
patients themselves.

And while most hospitals 

cannot turn a patient away 
at the door, most low-income 
patients make their decision 
not to visit the ER far before 
this would present an issue. If 
hospitals continue to charge 
high 
premiums 
for 
basic, 

necessary 
emergency 
care, 

the proportion of low-income 
patients with ill health and 
the burden on hospitals and 
taxpayers will all rise.

Given 
that 
Trump 

wants to dismantle the ACA 
altogether, 
it 
will 
take 
a 

strong and animated defense 
of Obamacare principles to 
ensure that the health care 
system continues to advocate 
for the needs of the poor.

Ben Charlson can be reached at 

bencharl@umich.edu

BEN CHARLSON | COLUMN

CARLY BEHRENDT | CAN BE REACHED AT CARBEHR@UMICH.EDU

A.J ASHMAN | OP-ED

Those who had 
the knowledge 
and power to 
intervene did 

nothing.

Student 

government has 
always been the 
clearest way for 
me to promote 

justice.

I was taken 
aback by the 
understated 

consequence of 

the ER.

