How 2000s lad culture helped Russell Brand to hide in plain sight

In light of his offending, writing that was celebrated for being frank, honest – and very funny – now looks anything but.

People “are willing to mistake irony and self-awareness for truth telling and trustworthiness,” says Ditum. “The idea that he made these jokes about being this kind of sexual monster was supposed to convince you that he wasn’t actually a sexual monster in real life.”

Did normalising his behaviour allow him to hide in plain sight? Were the media companies who embraced him, the comedy venues who promoted him, the audiences who laughed at his humour, in some way complicit?

A former TV boss who didn’t want to be named explained the thinking of his peers like this: “You’ve got this charismatic presenter who appears to be very, very good and you don’t want to lose that.

“The women who were being persecuted didn’t feel empowered to speak up and the few who did feel empowered might have been classed as troublemakers but certainly weren’t really listened to because you didn’t want to lose the star. That was the process.”

Indeed, in Brand’s trial, one of the complainants told the court she didn’t report what had happened to her because she didn’t think she would be believed in “those laddish culture times”.

“It was my word against his,” she said in her evidence.