While the recent release of the Epstein files has triggered a cascade of resignations and reputational collapses among the global elite, Bari Weiss identifies a glaring, unsettling exception: Lesley Groff, the man's long-time executive assistant, remains largely untouched. Weiss argues that Groff's continued normalcy in an upscale Connecticut suburb, despite appearing over 150,000 times in federal documents, exposes a double standard in how society punishes proximity to criminality versus active participation. This is not just a story about one woman's career; it is a probe into the mechanics of privilege and the limits of public accountability.
The Anomaly of Impunity
Weiss opens by contrasting the fate of high-profile figures like Bill Gates and Prince Andrew with Groff's unscathed life. She notes that while others have been "ostracized and punished professionally," Groff continues to host game nights and dine at upscale restaurants. The core of Weiss's argument rests on the sheer volume of Groff's involvement. "Groff was so plugged into Epstein's affairs that her name appears over 150,000 times in the recently released Department of Justice files," Weiss writes, noting that only Epstein himself appears more often. This statistic is the piece's anchor; it forces the reader to confront the impossibility of total ignorance in such a role.
The author highlights the local political fallout in New Canaan, Connecticut, where residents like Daniel LaGattuta have tried to rally against the acceptance of Groff's donations. LaGattuta called the situation "morally abhorrent and a political catastrophe," yet the local Republican committee ignored him. Weiss uses this local resistance to underscore a broader point: the social and political machinery protecting Groff is robust. Unlike the "standard apology" issued by other associates, Groff has faced no such reckoning. "In the sweeping Epstein reckoning, Groff is an anomaly," Weiss observes, suggesting that her survival is not accidental but structural.
Groff was so plugged into Epstein's affairs that her name appears over 150,000 times in the recently released Department of Justice files.
Critics might argue that without criminal charges, public shaming is premature, yet Weiss points out that Groff was explicitly listed as a "suspected co-conspirator" in the un-redacted FBI files. The distinction between legal innocence and moral culpability is the very tension the piece explores.
The Architecture of Denial
Weiss meticulously dissects the defense mounted by Groff's lawyer, Michael Bachner, who claims Epstein "lived in two worlds—one legitimate and the other not—and made sure they did not collide." Weiss presents this defense as fragile when weighed against the evidence of Groff's daily duties. She managed the schedules for massages that victims describe as code for sex acts, coordinated travel to Epstein's island, and handled the logistics of young women's lives. "She was even the reason New Canaan was mentioned more than a thousand times in the Epstein files," Weiss notes, linking the suburb's reputation directly to Groff's management of Epstein's local operations.
The piece details how Groff's role required a specific kind of willful blindness. She signed a nondisclosure agreement with a $100,000 penalty and was warned by Ghislaine Maxwell to avoid small talk. "You're here to work," Maxwell told her. Weiss suggests this enforced distance was a feature, not a bug, of the operation. Groff's own FBI interview reveals she was awestruck by the wealth and connections, describing the experience as "pretty incredible." Yet, she also admitted to alerting Epstein to a grand jury subpoena in 2007, an act that Weiss frames as a clear breach of loyalty to the law in favor of her employer. "From day one of my employment I have been witness to, and receiver of, Jeffrey's outrageous generosity," Groff wrote in a 2008 letter of support for her boss, a document Weiss cites to illustrate the depth of her entanglement.
The narrative also touches on the victims' perspectives, citing lawsuits where Groff is accused of coordinating schedules for minors and paying them in cash. While Weiss acknowledges that civil cases were dismissed and Groff's lawyer disputes the claims, she emphasizes that the victims' fund barred further lawsuits, effectively silencing a legal avenue for accountability. "The allegations made against Lesley in a few civil lawsuits are simply wrong, confused, and devoid of any facts," Bachner claims, but Weiss juxtaposes this with the testimony of victims like Sarah Ransome, who described Groff as the person who "maintained their compliance with the rules of behavior imposed upon them."
The Privilege of the Inner Circle
Weiss concludes by examining the financial and social safety net that allowed Groff to retire comfortably. Epstein's trust initially planned to give her $2 million, a sum that Weiss notes was later amended or depleted by victim compensation. Regardless of the final payout, Groff and her husband live in a $3 million home, a stark contrast to the lives destroyed by the very network she managed. "She doesn't just make political donations—she goes to parties, hosts game nights, and dines at upscale restaurants," Weiss writes, highlighting the dissonance between her lifestyle and the crimes of her former employer.
The piece draws a parallel to the broader pattern of Epstein's network, where figures like Ghislaine Maxwell faced conviction while others, like Groff, faded into the background. Weiss suggests that Groff's ability to "resume her life in New Canaan as if Epstein had never been a part of it" is a testament to the power of the elite to insulate themselves from consequences. "Epstein made her a face of his legitimate world," Bachner argues, but Weiss implies that this legitimacy was a shield that protected her from the scrutiny applied to others.
In the sweeping Epstein reckoning, Groff is an anomaly. She doesn't just make political donations—she goes to parties, hosts game nights, and dines at upscale restaurants with her friends and family.
A counterargument worth considering is that Groff's role was strictly logistical, and she may have genuinely been unaware of the full extent of the abuse. However, Weiss's evidence of her alerting Epstein to the FBI and her long tenure suggests a level of complicity that goes beyond mere employment. The question remains: why does the system protect the logistics manager while punishing the donors?
Bottom Line
Weiss's most compelling argument is that Groff's immunity reveals a hierarchy of culpability where proximity to power can outweigh direct involvement in crime. The piece's greatest strength is its use of specific, damning details—from the 150,000 file mentions to the 2008 letter of support—to dismantle the narrative of innocence. The biggest vulnerability is the reliance on civil lawsuits that were dismissed, leaving the legal record technically clear, but the moral record deeply stained. Readers should watch for whether the public pressure in New Canaan will eventually force a reckoning, or if Groff's case will stand as the ultimate example of who pays the price and who does not.