The public accounts and conversations, even the ones that feel unsatisfying, hold hidden value because they draw out quieter ones. In the privacy of homes, in office cafeterias and bars, women and men have confided, argued, apologized and reconsidered their own histories in ways that will never be captured by investigative articles, distinguished panels or year-end lists. These exchanges, these collective adjustments of the line between what feels right and what feels wrong, can seem more immediate and impactful than any law.

But are they? So far, the true rules of our society have barely budged. Federal law does not protect freelancers or employees of many small businesses from harassment. The criminal justice system does not come close to addressing sexual abuse, especially when the events lie far in the past. (Do not trust anyone who makes confident assertions about whether Harvey Weinstein will be convicted.) Beyond a scattering of new state legislation, shifts in social attitudes have not been locked in place by law.

It’s not clear how much has changed in the past year for a woman who is being hounded and pawed by her boss as she serves burgers for $ 1 0 an hour.

There’s no agreement on which behaviors merit scrutiny, on where the boundaries lie. Some supporters of Brett Kavanaugh are outraged that his confirmation was questioned because of a high school-era allegation. For many on the other side, that was the power of Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony: She told the country that a traumatic experience from the distant past still matters.

For men (and women) who are accused, a general lack of accountability has given way to a lack of consensus over what kind of behavior merits warning, a firing, or career obliteration.