When I saw the interview, I thought that. Because they had to distill it, and it looked like I was saying I didn't apologize and I had no intention to, and I was mad at me... Here's what I want to say: It wasn't my finest hour, but the important thing is—that was a very painful thing that happened 20 years ago. And I apologized to my family, to Monica Lewinsky and her family, and to the American people. I meant it then, and I meant it now. I've had to live with the consequences every day since. I still believe the #MeToo movement is long overdue, necessary, and should be supported.

There are several elements of Clinton's argument here, and they're only tangentially related to one another. First, he says, the Republican-led effort to remove him from office was a politically motivated one. He notes the distinctions between the facts alleged about him and those alleged about the current White House occupant. He cites his legislative record as evidence that he is a champion of women's issues. Most importantly, Clinton offers the support he received as exculpatory evidence. "I dealt with it, twenty-plus years ago," he explained to Melvin. "And the American people—two-thirds of them—stayed with me, and I've tried to do a good job since then." Because the court of public opinion declared him not guilty, in other words, his #MeToo case is closed, and he is free to go.

Despite what you might believe from only watching Fox News, Bill Clinton last sought public office more than two decades ago. When his name pops up these days, it is usually because some Republican commentator invoked it in an attempt to deflect attention from the credible sexual assault allegations against the leader of their own party. There is no excusing Trump's history of violence against women, and so instead of trying to argue substance, right-wingers have taken to pointing fingers at prior beneficiaries of a process that has allowed other men in Trump's position to avoid facing consequences for their actions. This reasoning is cynical and specious, and Clinton is right to argue that his name is not a blanket defense to wrongdoing.

What he still fails to grasp, though, is that within the progressive movement, it doesn't matter that the other side's attacks are made in obvious bad faith, or if the accused boasts a sparkling record on women's issues. It doesn't matter if the public stays in his corner—although whether the public in fact stayed in Clinton's corner is up for debate. And it doesn't matter whether a delta exists between the seriousness of the alleged misconduct and that of a more egregious and/or recent incidence of alleged misconduct. A foundational tenet of #MeToo is that powerful men, whatever their partisan affiliations, should not be allowed to exploit their status to predate on less-powerful women. If a Democratic politician were to do what he did today, the revelation would trigger reasonable calls from within his own party for his resignation.

It isn't hard to understand Clinton's motivations in responding as he does. He still feels that he was treated unfairly, and that giving an inch—admitting that he abused the office of the presidency, or that he owes a private apology to Monica Lewinsky, or even just that he would be treated differently in 2018 than he was in 1998—would be tantamount to admitting defeat in a battle that, in his mind, he fought so hard to win. Referring to the experience as "very painful" is as honest as he can get, and that does not say much.

The reality, difficult though it may be for him to acknowledge, is that progressives who want predatory men out of politics would have wanted Clinton out of politics, too. It is the same story that prompted Al Franken's departure from the Senate last year, as damaging as that loss was to the Democratic Party: Sexual harassment knows no ideology, and giving in to the temptation to deploy #MeToo only as a matter of political convenience is the fastest way to undermine the movement for good.