In a recent post, I commented on a 2010 entry on the Ms. Magazine Blog whose writer evinced no awareness either of how false allegations work or how damaging they can be, and that advocated for laxer restraining order laws in Maryland. Even if this writer were capable of conceding that false allegations are made, it’s unlikely that she could intuit a subtlety like this: allegations don’t even have to be lies to be frauds. It’s for this reason, not least of all, that higher standards and expectations of verification, equity, and deliberation must be applied to the civil restraining order process.

Consider this scenario:

A man eyes a younger, attractive woman at work every day. She’s impressed by him, also, and reciprocates his interest. They have a brief sexual relationship that, unknown to her, is actually an extramarital affair, because the man is married. The younger woman, having naïvely trusted him, is crushed when the man abruptly drops her, possibly cruelly, and she then discovers he has a wife. Maybe she openly confronts him at work. Maybe she calls or texts him. Maybe repeatedly. The man, concerned to preserve appearances and his marriage, applies for a restraining order alleging the woman is harassing him, has become fixated on him, is unhinged. As evidence, he provides phone records, possibly dating from the beginning of the affair—or pre-dating it—besides intimate texts and emails. He may also provide tokens of affection she’d given him, like a birthday card the woman signed and other romantic trifles, and represent them as unwanted or even (implicitly) disturbing. “I’m a married man, Your Honor,” he testifies, admitting nothing, “and this woman’s conduct is threatening my marriage, besides my status at work.”

Question: Where’s the lie?

The woman, who had fallen for this man, may have been desperate for an explanation for his betrayal, reasonably expecting the man who had courted her with flowers and sweet nothings to reemerge. Maybe she becomes incensed by his disowning his deception, and angrily takes him to task. He may genuinely feel harassed and alarmed by her not simply going away after giving him what he wanted from the relationship, because his marriage and reputation are at stake. His evidence is real. He doesn’t explicitly use the word “stalker”; he just lets the facts speak for him. In a literal sense, he’s telling the truth.

Not so cut-and-dried, is it?

This scenario isn’t fantasy. It roughly corresponds to a story that was shared with me by a woman who had just begun a promising career in law and had bright and lofty ambitions she’d toiled many years to realize. The job she aspired to have is one from which she’s been permanently disqualified by the man’s having (very easily) obtained a restraining order against her to mask his own misconduct and punish her for not minding her place.

In 10 years, the woman, a 20-something attorney who had set her sights on working for the FBI, may instead be a recovering alcoholic working for Legal Aid. Her lover, by contrast, may have made partner at her former law firm. The seniors there may sometimes jokingly speculate, sipping from lowballs and puffing on stogies, about what became of “that crazy stalker who used to work here.”

If this is the justice Ms. Magazine advocates for, it needs a new name.

Copyright © 2014 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com