By Lara Kajs
Thinking Out Loud
When the first trove of the Jeffrey Epstein files was unsealed, the headlines came fast: flight logs, deposition transcripts, internal communications; all shedding new light about the financier’s network, the web of exploitation that stretched across borders, power circles, and the people and systems that enabled him for decades.
But beneath the headlines was something deeper: a sense that the cultural and political energy surrounding sexual abuse, which had peaked during the Me Too movement, was being reignited. The files did not just expose Epstein. They forced a confrontation with the unfinished business of Me Too itself and the movement’s foundational questions about power, accountability, and the systems that protect abusers.
Me Too’s Original Promise
Me Too began as a movement by Tarana Burke to create a community for young survivors of sexual violence, particularly Black girls often overlooked by institutions and media. When the phrase went viral in 2017 following allegations against Harvey Weinstein, the movement’s public face changed, but its core never did: believe survivors, confront abuse of power, and dismantle systems that enable violence.
Survivors who once felt trapped in silence found community; public discourse shifted; institutions were pressured to reform. But many advocates argued then, and still argue now, that exposure alone was not enough. True change requires system-level accountability.
That is where Jeffrey Epstein fits in. His case is not merely about a single predator; it is a portrait of how power and privilege can insulate someone from justice. Revisiting Epstein through the lens of Me Too forces us to ask: have we built anything strong enough to stop predators like him? Or do we keep re-litigating the same moral failures?
Epstein as a Systemic Failure
The Epstein files paint a disturbing picture. Beyond his criminal abuse, the documents expose how legal, political, and social elites facilitated or ignored his crimes. Prosecutorial decision, political influence, and secretive non-prosecution agreements all contributed to an environment where Epstein could operate with impunity.
This is not just individual culpability; it is a structural breakdown. For Me Too survivors, Epstein’s case is validation: abuse is rarely isolated; it often lives inside institutions that protect the powerful.
Epstein’s case is not merely about a single predator; it is a portrait of how power and privilege can insulate someone from justice.”
Survivors at the Center
One of the most powerful and painful aspects of the file release is the renewed visibility of survivors’ testimonies. Many of these women, first targeted as teenage girls, have spoken repeatedly about the toll of not being believed, of being dismissed as unreliable or tainted or complicit in their own exploitation. In short: victim blaming.
The files validate their accounts in painstaking detail. But validation is not the same as healing. For many survivors, the renewed media attention comes with emotional costs such as having to re-tell their stories, seeing their trauma dissected online, and being linked forever to a man who harmed them.
Yet many also see the release as necessary. It is a chance to expose the network that enabled Epstein and to push for reforms that could protect others. The courage they showed in the first round of public exposure now meets a second round of revelations, and once again, their voices are guiding the conversation.
Virginia Giuffre
No discussion of Epstein and Me Too is complete without Virginia Louise Giuffre (née Roberts), one of Epstein’s most prominent accusers. Her story and her death deepen the urgency of the reckoning. Virginia Giuffre was trafficked by Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell as a teenager. She later publicly accused powerful figures, including Prince Andrew, of abusing her. In Andrew’s case, he was recently stripped of all of his titles, including “Prince” by his brother, King Charles. In interviews and public statements, she described how she was recruited, groomed, and exploited. She blamed not just Epstein and Maxwell, but also institutions that failed her.
Giuffre founded Victims Refuse Silence in 2015. The charity was relaunched as Speak Out, Act, Reclaim (SOAR) in November 2021. The organization is dedicated to supporting survivors of abuse.
Tragically, Giuffre died by suicide on 25 April 2025, at age 41, at her home in Western Australia. Her family issued a statement attributing her death to the “emotional toll of a lifetime of sexual abuse.”
Giuffre’s memoir, Nobody’s Girl: A Memoir of Surviving Abuse and Fighting for Justice, was completed before her death and published posthumously. The book is a “raw and shocking journey” through her life, her exploitation, and her activism. Giuffre believed the book could foster “necessary discussions” about trafficking, justice, and systemic failure. The memoir contains deeply personal, disturbing, and sobering accounts of abuse by Epstein, Maxwell, and other powerful men.
The Epstein Files Transparency Act
One of the most lasting impacts of the Epstein scandal is the push for transparency legislation and oversight rules designed to keep similar cases from being buried. On 18 November 2025, Congress passed the Epstein Files Transparency Act, which requires the Department of Justice to publish, in a searchable and downloadable format, all records related to Epstein’s prosecution. On 19 November 2025, President Donald Trump signed the bill into law.
This legislation represents a watershed moment. It channels Me Too’s call for transparency into concrete policy, forcing institutions to reckon publicly with Epstein’s network, not just the individual predator, but the relationships, the enablers, and the silence that allowed it all to persist. Me Too created the cultural pressure for accountability. The Epstein files supply the documentary evidence for why accountability must be formalized. The combination is powerful.
Catalyst for Reform
Yet renewed attention carries risks. The spectacle of Epstein can overshadow the broader lessons. Public fascination with names in the files can eclipse the deeper structural failures that allowed abuse to persist.
The Me Too movement struggled with this as well—the “celebrity offender” problem—where public attention fixates on individuals rather than the systems that enable abuse. The danger is that Epstein’s story becomes another true-crime spectacle instead of a catalyst for reform.
The question now is whether this moment will be consumed as scandal or used to complete the work Me Too began. The movement’s true legacy was never meant to be hashtags or headlines; it was meant to produce change. The Epstein files may finally force that reckoning.
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Photo credit: Blue Morpho Wings by Renee from Las Vegas, USA. Open CC BY 2.0
Published 20 November 2025
Atrocity Prevention Lens
The Epstein case illustrates how systemic protection of abusers can enable widespread harm. Just as states and institutions are expected to prevent atrocities, civil society and legal frameworks must ensure that powerful individuals cannot exploit loopholes, influence, or secrecy to evade justice. Early intervention, transparent investigations, and structural accountability are essential.
Legal Framework
International and domestic law require that institutions not shield perpetrators. The Epstein files highlight potential failures in prosecutorial discretion, non-disclosure agreements, and institutional negligence. Legal accountability extends beyond individuals to include those who facilitate, enable, or ignore abuse.
Policy & Accountability Implications
The case underscores the need for robust oversight, transparency mandates, and survivor-centered reforms. Policymakers and institutions must prioritize systemic integrity, ensuring that cultural, legal, and political power does not perpetuate cycles of abuse. Public pressure, advocacy, and structural reforms together can reduce the risk of future exploitation and empower survivors.
About Thinking Out Loud
Thinking Out Loud is a commentary series by Lara Kajs examining international law, humanitarian crises, and the prevention of mass atrocities. Drawing on field experience in conflict and displacement settings, the column explores the legal and policy challenges that shape contemporary conflicts.
Lara Kajs is the founder and executive director of The Genocide Report, a Washington, DC-based educational nonprofit focused on atrocity prevention and international law. She is the author of several field-based books on conflict, displacement, humanitarian crises, and international humanitarian law, drawing on extensive research and field experience in Yemen, Syria, and Afghanistan. Her writing and public speaking focus on atrocity crimes, forced displacement, the protection of civilians, and the legal frameworks governing armed conflict.