On Wednesday evening disgraced Maine Democratic Senate nominee Graham Platner announced the end of his embattled campaign via a near 11-minute video posted to X. His campaign had already come under fire for a number of things, from an infamous tattoo that resembled a Nazi symbol (he denied that he was aware of the symbolism and had the tattoo covered up once reports emerged) to questions about the authenticity of his oyster farmer origin story. A bombshell New York Times article on June 4 reported accounts from former romantic partners who described behavior that ranged from toxic to abusive (Platner denies allegations of abuse). The final nail in the coffin came on Monday, when a former girlfriend accused him of raping her. This prompted his remaining defenders to withdraw their support, compelling Platner to pull out of the race. 

As a survivor of both sexual abuse and sexual assault, Platner’s exit video was a viscerally uncomfortable thing to watch. I can’t imagine I was alone. Within the first few seconds, I felt my stomach seize up. My body was alerting me to something before I could fully articulate why. 

“I just want to make it clear, this is also false. The things that have been claimed did not happen. It’s not real. It has placed an immense amount of weight on me,” Platner says in the video, fighting back tears. “Amy [Platner’s wife] and I are regular people. We were not looking for this experience, we were not looking to get into politics, we had no desire to run for office. I just want you to think about what, like, you would do as a regular person in a position where a much larger world, large forces were working against you personally to accuse you of the worst thing a person could do and it was not remotely true.”

Whether or not he is an abuser, Platner comes across as both performative and manipulative. In the first minute, Platner deploys an abuser’s playbook, point by point. “DARVO” — “Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender” — is a common acronym used to describe the manipulative response of abusers when confronted about their behaviour. It is a tactic I am personally familiar with. Judging from responses to the video online, it wasn’t lost on others.  

“Anybody who helped him with this speech should have no home in progressive politics. No responsibility or remorse for his own actions. Just DARVO,” Clara Jeffrey, the editor-in-chief of Mother Jones, posted on X Thursday morning in response to Platner’s video. 

“Graham Platner’s resignation video is a master class in DARVO,” an attorney, Caroline E. Stout, wrote on Threads.

At one point in his video, Platner says in a tone that feels like feigned injury: “All we were asking for was health care, was to end the genocide.” And, without irony: “We were asking for a fairer system.”

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Lest we forget, survivors are more often than not hung out to dry in the wake of public accusations, while abusers are often largely relatively unscathed. That is why it is so incredibly unusual for people to publicly make false accusations of sexual misconduct, especially against people in positions of power. 

That Platner has denied the allegations is not the issue. But there’s a way to respond to sexual assault and abuse, as someone who stands to hold public office, that makes clear that as a representative of the public, you see and acknowledges the pain and gravity of sexual violence.

Instead, Platner has focused on self-victimization, martyrization and made accusations of conspiracy theories.

“[A] corporate media system and the political establishment got to act as judge, jury, and executioner. Accusations are supposed to be the beginning of things, not the end,” Platner says later in the video, signaling a reluctance to relinquish his position. 

He also focuses on his own achievements in the video, fashioning a tale of David and Goliath: “We went toe-to-toe with one of the most entrenched political systems in the history of the world and we won,” he argues. 

The reality is Platner was anything but persecuted. If anything, he was offered far more political grace than made sense for someone accused of sporting a Nazi symbol-resembling tattoo or exchanging sexual messages with up to a dozen other women while he was married on an anonymous messaging platform (the incidents were confirmed by both Platner and his wife) or for alleged toxic and abusive behavior with former partners. But instead of compelling him to step down much sooner, apologists like Sen. Bernie Sanders, I-Vt., stuck by his side. 

Platner has focused on self-victimization, martyrization and made accusations of conspiracy theories.

The way Platner has been enabled over this past month is yet another insult to survivors everywhere, to say nothing of the decentering of survivors in this story. The vast majority of coverage has revolved around what this means for the Democratic Party’s future, about political strategy and about possible successors. Yes, some of his policy suggestions, like universal healthcare, could have benefitted many Mainers; but at no point is that a reason to prop up a person who has been credibly accused of violence and abuse.  

This story has been an opportunity for both a collective and personal reckoning — to look inward and take accountability — neither of which has happened.

Someone capable of accountability validates another person’s experience when they express they were harmed, irrespective of whether or not it aligns with one’s own experience. Platner’s response is the furthest thing from this. That’s the least he owes his accusers and supporters; but that’s not what they got.  

Instead, survivors are forced to watch the minimization of accounts of abusive, violent and toxic behavior, which only reinforces the harm caused. 

Noor Noman

Noor Noman is a writer focused on culture, race and LGBTQ issues.