And if you had a 15 year old daughter, and she went to a party anyway without telling you despite knowing that you wouldn’t allow it if she asked permission: she’s sure as hell not going to tell you about it if things do go wrong, is she? Nor is she going to go to the police, who will almost certainly tell you. Nor is she going to tell anybody else who might let you find out. (What do you imagine the police would have done anyway, nearly forty years ago? Her word against both of theirs, and no major injuries to show?)
15 year olds do things their parents don’t know about all the time. I’ve been 15.
I went a number of places when I was 15, with or without my parents. Can I now, or could I have when it was only some 35 years ago, identify with any accuracy when I was at which place or who was there?
Let’s move a little later, because at 15 I didn’t get to a lot of parties. I did, however, go to a whole lot of parties a few years later, when I was in college. Some of them were in dorm rooms, some of them were in people’s houses. I remember a number of things that happened at those parties, none of them anywhere near as traumatic as what Ford describes; some of them were quite pleasant, some were annoying or even upsetting, some were just odd enough to stick in my memory. I do not now, nor did I when it was less than forty years ago instead of about 50, remember whose room or in which house any of those things occured; nor could I pin any of them down to a particular date – well, the one that was occasioned by the solar eclipse could be pinned to a specific date. I’d have to look it up, though; without looking up that eclipse I couldn’t pin it to a specific year, never mind date. Nor do I now remember exactly who was at which party. If I had to back up a friend that we were or that we weren’t at a party together on a particular date, I wouldn’t be able to swear to it, either.
I have no trouble at all imagining that what Ford remembers of a particular party over thirty years ago isn’t where it was, or when it was, or exactly who was there, or how she got there, or how she got home; but that she nevertheless remembers from that night one thing, and that one thing seared into her memory: being pinned down on a bed while Kavanaugh tried to pull her clothes off and he and Judge laughed at her.
Nobody who was at that party but not in that one room would have remembered it, because they wouldn’t have known it was happening. Kavanaugh and Judge might have even forgotten it: not only because they were drunk, but because it might not have mattered to them. To them, her panic and outrage might have been a laughing matter.
Could Ford now be mistaken? Possible. Maybe it wasn’t Kavanaugh. Maybe it wasn’t Judge. Maybe it was two other people, or one other person. But there is by now no way to prove she’s mistaken, for the exact same reasons that there’s by now no way (if there ever was) to prove she’s telling the truth. If there were proof Kavanaugh was somewhere else entirely for all of the days in, say, 1981 to 1983 when Ford might possibly have been able to go to such a party, then it could be proven it wasn’t him. But there is no such proof.
Even if there were, it wouldn’t prove she was deliberately lying.
Could she have been deliberately lying? Well, maybe. She must have had some idea what sort of meat grinder she’d be walking into by making the accusation, and that she’d be unlikely to ever get entirely back out of that meat grinder for the rest of her life; so it seems to me massively unlikely. Others may think otherwise, and can certainly say that they think it’s likely. But to say that it’s proven she’s lying is absolute nonsense.