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It's the season of resolutions, so here's one: From now on, let's channel Haddish. So much in this insane cultural moment is outside of our control, but our behavior—what we do and how we react to even ill-expressed criticism of it—is still within our own jurisdiction.
Not to overstate it, but it feels to me as heroic to see a woman cop to failure as it does to watch a woman revel in her hard-earned success. We all mess up, although TMZ isn't too interested in the particulars of that last ill-advised toast I gave. The point is not to get defensive, not to blame other people, not to offer a million and six justifications for our actions. It's just to be honest and then to work at it. Whatever it is.
Over the past 12 months in particular, the list of men who would be wise to follow Haddish's lead has multiplied. And while sexual harassment and a few inoffensive jokes are several universes apart, the principle holds—fewer excuses, more real vows not to repeat the same mistakes. (Given recent leaked audio in which Louis C.K., noted comeback attempter, made fun of survivors of gun violence and those who use gender-neutral pronounces, I think we can anticipate that he will not take the Haddish route.) It's not weak or pathetic or "unfeminist" to admit failure. It's just an acknowledgment of a gap between where we want to be and where we are.
Haddish has little to apologize for—thousands of men have made zero people laugh with little fanfare—so it's unfortunate (but not a surprise) that it fell to her to model how to deal with a professional misstep. Women are still held to standards that men on their tiptoes could never reach. (Wear heels, men!) The fact is women don't need to apologize more, but the world would be a lot better if women and men memorized the Haddish method—and normalized it.
