There’s an instinctive reaction when you find out unsavoury information about a famous person or a group. People trip over themselves to say: Oh, I never liked him anyway. Or they say He was always weird.
Like I say, it’s instinctive. It’s an attempt to distance ourselves from any parasocial relationships we’ve built up in our heads. I was a big fan of the band Anti-Flag, right up until the horrific allegations about lead singer Justin Geever (stage name Justin Sane) emerged in late 2022. I also enjoyed the works of Lostprophets, and I shouldn’t even need to explain why I don’t listen to any of their music any more. And I saw many attempts to justify the dislike.
I revisit this in light of the allegations against Maniac, the former Counter-Strike pro and analyst who has been credibly accused of sexual harassment and assault in a pattern of behaviour dating back years. Maniac has been hard at work this year — barely missing a tier 1 event, and co-presenting the HLTV Awards Show in January. (Disclaimer, I attended both the HLTV Awards Show and the afterparty, but did not interact with Maniac.)
Much like with Anti-Flag, I’ve seen some of the same comments: was his analysis ever really that good? Or people talk about “seeing the signs” on streams and broadcasts, speculating about the identities of the people involved (a very bad idea, and I appreciated Ryan Friend — who has been investigating this matter for dust2.us — urging an end to it in a Reddit post).
I’ll lay my cards on the table: I don’t think we gain anything by pretending that bad people do bad analysis, or put out bad music. In the case of Anti-Flag, one of the major points that Geever’s victims raised in the aftermath was that he presented himself as a feminist, which contributed to them letting down their guard, and enabled him to get them alone. If anything I think it’s unhelpful to argue that Anti-Flag were bad musicians. Geever’s crimes were enabled by the fact that they put out popular music (within a “niche” scene) and put on passionate, political live performances.
Maniac was removed from the BLAST World Finals 2022 afterparty by other members of talent, after becoming intoxicated. He continued to work the scene for two years afterwards (across multiple organisers), directly culminating in his actions at the G2 afterparty in London that have caused his downfall. Does it help to pretend he was a bad analyst? Him being good at his job, the fame that he had (even within a niche space such as esports) is what gave him access to these women, what gave him the confidence to harass them in a public space. It’s a self-serving narrative to help us feel better about not intervening sooner.
To put it another way, it is not hard to imagine the conversations after that BLAST afterparty two years ago. “I had too much to drink, it won’t happen again.” “It was just an afterparty, he always shows up in a professional context.” In hindsight it was a giant red flag. But it was clearly ignored at the time; Maniac was back working with BLAST at their next event. I can completely believe that the talent members who threw him out, or his hiring managers, believed in him to change — a misplaced kindness perhaps, or a blind spot for the seriousness of sexual harassment in a male-dominated industry.
We should all be skeptical of parasocial relationships. Maniac has had his defenders throughout this, people who instinctively leap to the assumption that all his victims must be lying, pointing to minor inconsistencies from victims reliving their trauma as a way to discredit the entire thing, and insulting Jacky Peters (the fiancé of Daisy “Damp” Powers, who revealed herself as a victim) for not intervening more forcefully. I don’t have much sympathy for these people, especially when Maniac is unlikely to notice, but it speaks to an unhealthy relationship with their idols.
Esports is obviously not alone in this narrative — the “crazy woman”, “ruining lives for attention”. It is a common defence of abusers, and Maniac’s initial statement (written when only the first account, from freelance journalist Hannah Marie, had come forward) hints towards this narrative: “I have a drastically different recollection of events”; “I believe inappropriate behaviour is where this should start and end”; referring to what took place as “promiscuity”. It encourages his fans to see this as a misunderstanding, downplaying his own behaviour, and implying — if not outright stating — that Marie overreacted.
If there is one heartening thing about this business it has been the solidarity shown by the women who came forward and by numerous members of the community following Friend’s investigation. Powers’ statement (and the subsequent video by Peters) tore down Maniac’s initial defence, pulling no punches. Eyewitnesses including pro players Cai “CYPHER” Watson and Rhys “Rhys” Stumbles came forward to corroborate events. It’s that kind of solidarity that will be needed if there is another Maniac out there.
Because the next Maniac may not be quite so clear-cut. There may not be multiple eyewitnesses. It may not happen in public. It may be the word of a famous talent member against someone unknown. Because that is how they get away with it — by pitting their victims against their fans, by making it difficult to speak up in the first place. They use their fame as both a shield, but also as a weapon — and the sooner the red flags get spotted the sooner we can block it once and for all.
