First Consequences - The Fall of a Man Who Should Have Known Better

There are withdrawals from public life that happen quietly, almost imperceptibly. And then there are those that resemble a political thunderclap because they expose a truth that had been pushed aside for years. Larry Summers, once United States treasury secretary, former president of Harvard, a globally sought-after economist - one of the most influential men of his generation - took exactly that step on Monday. A step back, away from committees, commissions, think tanks. Away from the stages on which he set the tone for decades. And yet the feeling remains that the real withdrawal should have begun much earlier.

The trigger is a discovery that hits him like a blow: emails from Jeffrey Epstein’s archive showing that Summers continued to write to him in a friendly tone long after Epstein’s 2008 guilty plea, as if nothing had happened. While others turned away, Summers continued to seek the closeness of a man who had been convicted of sexually abusing an underage girl. This closeness was not a slip but a pattern - and one that is now catching up with Summers.

In his statement to the Harvard Crimson he wrote that he wanted to step back “to rebuild trust and repair relationships with the people closest to me.” He said he was “deeply ashamed” and took full responsibility for the decision to continue contact with Epstein. You read these words - and feel the weight they carry. Yet you also feel the empty space: why only now?

His step has consequences. The Center for American Progress confirmed that Summers is ending his fellowship. Other institutions may follow. Even his announcement that he would continue teaching is now being questioned - especially at Harvard, the university whose moral claim Summers shaped for so long. That criticism came immediately from Massachusetts surprises no one. Elizabeth Warren said on television that Harvard should cut ties with Summers. A man who sought closeness to a convicted sex offender, she said, is “not trustworthy” for students. The political escalation did not take long. Donald Trump seized on the revelations to immediately escalate. On his platform he called on the Justice Department and the FBI to investigate Summers - along with Bill Clinton and LinkedIn co-founder Reid Hoffman. The attorney general, Pam Bondi, followed promptly: a special prosecutor was appointed. Trump’s message is clear: he wants to turn the Epstein case into a political tool, and Summers is now part of that tool.

“We have NOTHING to do with Epstein. The Democrats do. All of his friends were Democrats. Reid Hoffman, Larry Summers, Bill Clinton. They were on his island ALL THE TIME. All Democrats. That is the truth they are so afraid of. ‘All I want is for people to recognize the great job I’ve done.’ And he says he’s earned that recognition a hundred times over. We can’t stop laughing … WOW.”

But beyond the noise stands the question Summers does not answer: why would a man with such power, such knowledge, such influence seek the closeness of a convicted offender? In one of the published emails, Summers writes about an encounter with a woman: “I asked what she was doing. She said: I am busy. I said: You are quite shy.” Epstein responded in his usual way: “You reacted well.. annoyed shows caring.. no whining showed strength.” You read these lines - and recognize the familiarity that had long since become normal between them. A man who understood financial systems like few others, who led Harvard, who analyzed global markets and advised presidents, presents himself here as blind to the obvious. Summers recently described this connection as a “major mistake in my life.” It is hard to disagree - and yet the impression remains that this mistake is far larger than a personal lapse.

For it is not only about moral failure. It is about power, about responsibility, about the boundaries that people in high office must draw. Summers did not draw them. And now, as the public confronts him, he steps back - but not solely out of insight, rather because the facts leave him no choice. Perhaps Harvard will keep him, perhaps not. Perhaps the political hunt for him will soon shift to another target. But the shadow Epstein casts over this case will remain. And Larry Summers, the man who should have known better, now faces a question that will stay with him for a long time: how could he confide in a convicted man when the world had long known what he had done?

Whatever he does - this withdrawal is not the final stroke. It is the beginning of a late, heavy reckoning.