Cosby suffers tragic but deserved fall from grace


With his sentencing earlier this week for sexually assaulting a woman 14 years ago, comedian Bill Cosby joins the ignoble ranks of such historic protagonists as Achilles, Oedipus Rex and MacBeth.

Each of them shares a degree of classic Aristotelian hamartia, a tragic flaw in character of an otherwise noble, beloved or exceptional individual. The flaw is so great that it causes the hero to take a complete and utter fall from grace.

Cosby’s flaw – an inherent lack of self-control coupled with a belief that his celebrity status and fortune could shield him from harm – resulted in one of the most deservedly deep falls in modern American cultural history.

Before the first charges of sexual harassment and assault surfaced several years ago, Cosby reigned supreme as one of this nation’s most respected and idolized iconic heroes.

He blazed a trail for African-Americans in the 1960s as Scotty Scott on the ground-breaking secret-agent TV series “I Spy.”

In the 1970s, his affinity for children blossomed into the long-running and highly successful “Fat Albert and The Cosby Kids” animated comedy series.

In the 1980s and 1990s, Americans of all ilks warmly embraced his portrayal of Dr. Cliff Huxtable on the sitcom “Cosby,” which soared to the top spot in television ratings consistently from 1984 through 1989. He entered millions of living rooms as “America’s Dad.”

APPEARANCE VS. REALITY

It’s no surprise then that Cosby’s downfall still leaves many puzzled, disheartened and disillusioned. The comic and character actor they saw on TV shows, Jell-O commercials, movies and performance halls across America – including Powers Auditorium in Youngstown – apparently did not reflect the genuine Bill Cosby. How could appearances differ so starkly from realities, many have wondered.

The true Bill Cosby – warts and all – only began to come into focus in recent years after a coterie of criminal accusations against him dating back decades began to surface and multiply quickly.

More than 60 women have accused him of rape, drug-induced sexual assault, sexual battery, child sexual abuse and sexual misconduct, although statutes of limitations had expired in nearly all of those cases.

Finally, last April, the 81-year-old Cosby finally got his reality check. A jury in Pennsylvania found him guilty of three counts of aggravated indecent assault. Then four days ago, Montgomery County Judge Steven O’Neill sentenced the celebrity to three to 10 years in prison.

Defense attorneys had sought house arrest, arguing that the actor’s age and infirmities would not make him a threat to women any longer.

We’re pleased Judge O’Neill did not take stock in those pleas. Given the severity and the life-altering wounds of his crimes, Cosby deserved no mercy.

As the judge said to him before marching him off immediately to state prison, “It is time for justice, Mr. Cosby.”

That justice had been delayed too long. It gained increasing traction as the first celebrity criminal trial of the #MeToo movment. Many of Cosby’s accusers, after all, fortified that growing worldwide cause demanding justice for sexual-abuse victims, not institutionalized ignorance.

Sonia Ossorio, president of the National Organization for Women of New York, summarized the case’s long-term impact aptly and succinctly: “Bill Cosby seeing the inside of a prison cell sends a strong message that predators – no matter who they are, from Hollywood to Wall Street to the Supreme Court – can no longer be protected at the expense of victims.”