The Cuomo Brothers: A crushing inside look at how the patriarchy works

One brother ran New York State while abusing women. The other covered the news while covering his brother's abuse. Ah, good ol' the boys' club. At least they are both gone. But the patriarchy lives.

UPDATE: The plot thickens. Chris Cuomo was fired not only for doing mafia-style publicity-slash-crisis management for his governor-brother while he was supposed to be doing impartial news reporting, but also because there are complaints of sexual harassment against HIM that have been buried. Patriarchy at its finest.

Ah, remember when this was the news?

The Cuomo Brothers’ Rise and Fall is a story worthy of a Shakespeare tragedy or daytime television. It has all the dramatic elements — sex, power, death, politics, media, money, brotherhood — and an eventual downfall of not one but two big men. Unfortunately, it is not fictionalized entertainment but real life. And it is a crushing glimpse into how the patriarchy really works. When men in power protect other men in power who are doing some bad things. Some really bad things. Especially to women.

I first discovered that CNN anchor Chris Cuomo and then-NY State Governor Andrew Cuomo were brothers during the pandemic. Like many other people, I stumbled upon their relationship during those early anxious days of the pandemic, when we were all stuck inside, scared, and scrounging for information. The brothers had that shtick that was entertaining and informative. While Andrew was sharing data about Covid in New York, and Chris was sick with the virus and banished to his basement, the brothers bantered and boasted about their work, and about who their mother loves more. It was funny. And kind of real. And unusual to see on prime time. I shared their clips with my kids. I told them to get inspired at how adult brothers can admit to jealousies and still end conversations with casual “love you.” People were calling it “The comedy routine America needs right now”. There was talk of Andrew running for president.

That was so March 2020. Today, that entire brand has unraveled.

First we learned that Andrew was not telling the whole truth about how great he was doing as governor. In his brotherly-bantering, he tended to skip the part where he deliberately let certain people in his state die, particularly the old ones.

Then it got worse. We learned that the elder Cuomo had a troubled history of harassing, kissing, and groping women who worked for him.

Then he offered one of those cringey apologies-that-isn’t-quite-an-apology. The “I’m sorry if some of you felt bad,” kind of thing where he doesn’t really think he did anything wrong. That went badly. But he was initially refusing to resign.

Eventually, he caved to the pressure and stepped down to let someone else — a person who is more qualified, less abusive, and, well, a woman, Kathy Hochul — become governor.

In resigning, he pulled down some other people along the way. Most notably, we learned that Attorney Roberta Kaplan, a feminist lawyer who had made a career out of speaking out for victims of sexual harassment and was on the board of the #TimesUp anti-harassment organization, was advising Andrew on how to defeat his accusers. She resigned, too. Sigh.

(I hate when the good guys turn out to be bad guys. It is so confusing. And triggers my already head-splitting trust issues. See my post about that here.)

Nevertheless, he persisted. Chris Cuomo miraculously held on to his job for a while. I mean, he was cute, you know. He had on-air charm and blue eyes. He was endearing and clever, in that my-brother-was-governor-and-is-a-sexual-predator kind of way.