Performative Apologies or Structural Change? Hockey at a Crossroads

For those of you not following, the hockey world was once again mired in controversy when an American team, The Allen Americans, in the East Coast Hockey League (ECHL) signed Ben Johnson, a 31-year-old convicted child rapist to their roster. I knew I was going to write about hockey again today, but my message is actually a bit different than what I planned this morning, as the team just announced Ben Johnson was released - likely because of the public backlash of the signing. Still, I think the discussion around this sex offender, and the continuing anger around NHL player Carter Hart (one of the accused in the Hockey Canada trial) is important.

Ben Johnson is notable because of the attempts of his friends and family to paint him as a "reformed man of faith" that "deserves a chance", has "paid his price", and has "taken accountability". No, he hasn't. He still refers to the conviction as "alleged" and "accusations" (he was found guilty and served three years - this is fact). He says he is on a path of faith and has been born again. Not attacking anyone's faith, but that does not undo the harm he caused.

No one is entitled to play at any level of professional sport - he missed the opportunity as a direct result of his own actions. He left a 16-year-old girl bleeding on a dirty bar bathroom floor after forcing himself inside of her.

Is there a way that he could work towards recovering his image and reputation? He could serve a powerful role as a speaker - warning others about how much being an entitled predator cost him, about how he has to look at himself, his wife, and his daughters knowing that he alone violently penetrated a child, and what that means now. He could share how nothing he ever does will undo the harm he caused her, that he hopes she can heal, and find her way back to the parts of herself he tore away.

He could point out that he did not think of himself as a rapist, but in not thinking of her as a person, or caring about her wellbeing at all made him a sex offender.

He could hold himself out as an example of the toxic sense of entitlement that sometimes comes from being a child, teen, and young man playing sports at any elite level, and the dangers of that slippery slope.

Both Ben Johnson and Carter Hart could be leaders in a vital conversation about how we coach and train athletes—about how excellence in sport must never come at the cost of humanity, empathy, or accountability. They could both do that. Or they can continue to whine and tantrum about what they like to call "cancel culture."

Hockey does not have a cancel culture problem. It has a long, well-documented history of protecting talent over humanity. What we are witnessing now is not outrage—it is the inevitable reckoning that occurs when that bill finally comes due.

Until hockey is willing to lose games, talent, sponsorships, and money to protect women and children, it will continue to produce the very harm it claims to condemn.

This is not the failure of a few individuals. It is a culture that keeps teaching boys they are owed everything—and teaching survivors they are worth nothing. While the release of convicted rapist Ben Johnson is the right choice, it is unfortunate that it took public shame to make it happen.

Supporting survivors should be the default.

We once again extend the offer of free training to prove that addressing toxic culture can prevent future victimization. This is not a cash grab; this is too important not address. It should not take a public outcry to recognize that having a several-million-dollar fund established to pay settlements to those victimized should not be a necessity. Our athletes are capable of so much more. Let’s set that standard.