Canceling Rapists is Good Actually: The Neil Gaiman Story

We on the left are often highly defensive about the idea that we cancel people. Instead, we should embrace it in cases like Neil Gaiman’s.

Content note: This story contains graphic and disturbing descriptions of sexual assault and abuse. Please proceed with caution—and at the same time, I think it’s important to bear witness, if you have the bandwidth, to stories of this nature.

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When Scarlet Pavlovich, then 22, first babysat for Neil Gaiman, then 61, his son went out for a playdate, leaving her home alone with the famous author. That night, they had dinner—Gaiman poured two glasses of rosé for Pavlovich but drank only water himself—and made awkward conversation. She cleaned up the plates after them. “I’ve had a thought,” Gaiman offered. “Why don’t you have a bath in the beautiful claw bathtub in the garden? It’s absolutely enchanting.” Pavlovich demurred at first, but eventually agreed to this, since Gaiman would be on a work call. Before long, however, he joined her in the tub, naked. She tried to cover her breasts; he told her to stretch out and “get comfortable.” “No,” she replied, “I’m not comfortable with my body.” “It’s OK—it’s only me. Just relax. Just have a chat,” Gaiman pressed her. “Don’t ruin the moment,” he said. Pavlovich felt “a subtle terror,” which she recalls in Lila Shapiro’s deftly reported, deeply investigated cover piece for Vulture this month, “There is No Safe Word.”