A years-long, explosive investigation by The New York Times last month exposed allegations of sexual abuse by the late labor leader Cesar Chavez. Two members of Congress, one Democrat and one Republican, resigned this week after being accused of sexual misconduct. And Labor Secretary Lori Chavez-DeRemer is facing an internal investigation, including allegations of inappropriate behavior by her father and husband toward young women staff.
The #MeToo movement, founded in 2006 by activist Tarana Burke, brought a reckoning for powerful men at its public peak in 2017 and 2018, leading to changes in laws and policies to address abuse and help survivors get justice. It also drew a swift cultural backlash, culminating in President Donald Trump’s election to a second term after he was found liable of sexual abuse. Now, in 2026, sexual misconduct by people in positions of power is back at the forefront of the political conversation and public discourse.
The groundswell of outrage shows people are “fed up,” said Sarah Higginbotham, co-founder and co-director of the National Women’s Defense League (NWDL), which focuses on sexual misconduct at the state level.
“There is currently a survivor and sexual abuse issue that is at the epicenter of national and global politics right now,” she added. “I would like to say that I don’t know how much more evidence people need that this is something that should be prioritized.”
But it’s also one, she said, that tends to be “put in a drawer” and is chronically underinvested in. The most prominent advocacy group to emerge from #MeToo, Time’s Up, shuttered years later amid internal discord and accusations of conflicts of interest. Higginbotham and her co-founder, Emma Davidson Tribbs, founded NWDL to fill the need.
“It’s not even comparable to other issue areas that are funded, that are invested in, that can go do the work they need to do,” she said. “The good way to look at that, or the optimistic way to look at it is that it’s early, right? This is the beginning of something new.”
Even amid a broader cultural backlash to #MeToo and intense partisan divisions, sexual misconduct and assault are rare issues that cross party lines. Last year, three Republican women sided with Democrats in a successful effort to compel the release of files connected to the late disgraced financier and convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein. And the latest revelations have drawn near-immediate recriminations across the political spectrum.
The Times’ report on the allegations against Chavez, including from fellow labor leader Dolores Huerta, prompted officials to rename schools, monuments and state holidays. Two days after the San Francisco Chronicle and CNN reported Friday on allegations that former Democratic Rep. Eric Swalwell sexually assaulted women, including staff, he dropped out of the race for governor of California.
On Monday, he and former Republican Rep. Tony Gonzales of Texas, another congressman accused of inappropriate relationships with staff, resigned amid a bipartisan push led by two women to expel them from office. Swalwell has apologized for errors in judgment, but has denied the allegations of assault, with his lawyer calling them a “calculated and transparent political hit job.”
While consequences for Chavez’s legacy and Swalwell were swift, it took longer for Gonzales, who had already dropped his reelection bid, to resign. There’s also an open Ethics Committee investigation into Republican Rep. Cory Mills of Florida — last year, a judge granted his ex-girlfriend a protective order against dating violence after she said he harassed and threatened her. Mills has denied wrongdoing.
But despite his near-immediate fall after allegations were published, many said it shouldn’t have taken Swalwell running for governor, after rumors about him flirting with and pursuing younger women staffers had swirled for years.
“There is no such thing as being flirty with a staffer. That’s not being flirty, that is inappropriate, harassing behavior,” said Brooke Nevils, a former NBC producer and author of “Unspeakable Things: Silence, Shame and the Stories We Choose to Believe.”
In 2017, Nevils filed a sexual assault complaint against then-“Today Show” host Matt Lauer that led to his firing from the network. (He admitted to extramarital affairs but denied all allegations of assault). In her book, she used her story as a lens to examine the conditions that allow misconduct and abuses of power to flourish.
“When it gets to the point that it’s an open secret for years, then everyone is complicit in an open secret,” Nevils said. “There is this culture in D.C. where legislators are living away from their families, they’re drinking, it is very easy to compartmentalize that behavior, and there have to be clear boundaries. You’re never off duty when you’re a member of the United States Congress.”
Congress enacted a slew of reforms to the processes for reporting harassment and discrimination after a wave of lawmakers resigned amid the initial #MeToo movement. But a culture persists in which individual members of Congress wield tremendous power and influence over the careers of young women, leaving them to rely on whisper networks to discern which powerful men are safe to be around.
For survivors, speaking out can mean the end of a career. Cheyenne Hunt, the executive director of progressive nonprofit Gen Z for Change and one of those involved in the Swalwell allegations becoming public, has offered to help former Swalwell staffers find new jobs. Republican Rep. Lauren Boebert of Colorado also offered to field reports of misconduct from staffers afraid to come forward. Asked about the pervasiveness of misconduct by a reporter on Thursday, Boebert said her colleagues should “go to church” and “find Jesus.”
“Why is everybody so horny here?” she asked.
And over 30 women leaders of nonprofit organizations, a common entry point and part of the pipeline for careers in politics, signed an open letter denouncing sexual misconduct in politics and expressing support for young women starting their careers in Washington.
“It’s a little embarrassing that in 2026, we have to say this,” Randi Weingarten, president of the American Federation of Teachers, said at a news conference Thursday.
“It’s not simply about no tolerance for sexual misconduct, whether it’s a text or whether it’s a rape, but we have to hold ourselves to a higher standard,” she added. “I don’t care if one is a Republican or Democrat or independent, we have to create a safe and welcoming environment for young women.”
Kris Brown, president of the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence, said she experienced sexual harassment while working on Capitol Hill for nine years as a young woman in the 1990s and was “under the misimpression” that things had changed.
“It’s not on the young people joining public life to try and fix this situation,” she said. “It’s on the leaders. It’s on us to ensure that we are really holding power accountable.”
It was a post-#MeToo law, the Adult Survivors Act, that allowed the journalist and advice columnist E. Jean Carroll to bring her civil sexual abuse case against Trump. But in New York and many other states, survivors can still face retaliatory defamation lawsuits to keep them from speaking out. One of Swallwell’s attorneys sent out a cease-and-desist letter to one of the women who accused him of assault, the Los Angeles Times reported, and he’s vowed to continue to fight the allegations against him even after leaving Congress.
“The #MeToo movement saw tremendous change and awareness being brought to issues that for a long time folks didn’t feel comfortable talking about,” Emily Miles, executive director of the New York City Alliance Against Sexual Assault, said on a Thursday call with reporters. “And we saw a tremendous societal change as a result of it. But we know this, in working with survivors of sexual violence, that tactics of abusers evolve.”
Actor and social worker Ashley Grace has also brought a sexual assault case under the Adult Survivors Act against a fashion photographer who she says raped her. She recently attended a court hearing in New York to determine whether he can countersue for defamation after she spoke about her experience last year.
“The #MeToo movement kicked something off,” she said. “But if we don’t close the loop in terms of policy and legislation, we haven’t actually done anything to support people.”
There are also the numerous unanswered cultural questions #MeToo left open. Nevils argued in her book that the public discourse at the height of the movement left generations of men “perhaps rightly” feeling that the goalposts for consent had been suddenly and retroactively moved and that those who raised reasonable questions about consent and boundaries were dismissed as “part of the problem.”
“I think where #MeToo went off the rails, if you will, is we stopped being careful and thoughtful about distinctions,” she said. “These are systems of power with clear distinctions. If someone is your subordinate, if you have power over them, if you have power over their career, that is a clear distinction. And we have to have open conversations about those boundaries, where people can interrogate those boundaries without feeling like they’re going to be canceled for asking questions.”