I admit it: I’m one of those true crime dorks. I can’t get enough. But I’m picky—there have to be clear stakes. The good guys win. The bad guys get caught. Survivors get some form of justice and closure.
Still, in the interest of mixing up my reading list, I decided to try something different.
And now I’m not sure if I totally regret it… or if it cracked open something deeper in me.
The book?
No More Tears: The Dark Secrets of Johnson & Johnson by Gardiner Harris. It’s excellent: well-written, fast-paced, and meticulously researched. And it is utterly infuriating.
Harris chronicles decades of cover-ups, deception, and the reckless endangerment of millions—all in the name of institutional protection.
He exposes how J&J’s flagship baby powder contained tremolite asbestos, a deadly contaminant. Generations were poisoned. And the company knew.
They knew their metal-on-metal hip replacements failed at dangerously high rates.
They knew their anemia drug (EPO) promoted tumor growth in cancer patients.
They knew Risperdal caused early death in elderly patients, massive weight gain, and gynecomastia (male breast growth) in boys.
And they marketed these products anyway—often to the most vulnerable people.
It was one of those books I had to put down just to walk off my rage.
And it made me think.
I’ve been doing advocacy work for over two decades now. It’s taken many forms, but the through-line is this: institutional rot. I hate being lied to. Honestly, if the Diocese of Orange, Mater Dei High School, or any of the countless organizations I’ve fought to expose had simply done the right thing, I probably would’ve returned to my corporate communications career.
Because here’s the hard truth: there will always be child predators—in every school, every church, every camp, every youth-serving organization. The real failure isn’t just the abuse. It’s how the institution responds.
And that’s what enrages me.
When Johnson & Johnson realized their Baby Powder was killing people, they should have pulled talc from all their products. But they didn’t. They doubled down. They denied the risks. They vilified the scientists who dared expose them.
When Mater Dei, the Diocese of Orange, and the Archdiocese of Los Angeles learned that people like Michael Harris, Eleuterio Ramos, Richard Coughlin, Timothy Raemakers, Patrick Callahan, and others were named in lawsuits, police reports, and survivor accounts, they should have acted. They should have removed these men from jobs with kids, informed communities, supported victims, and implemented safeguards to protect kids.
But they didn’t. They doubled down.
They vilified victims.
They covered up the facts.
They lied to parents, parishioners, and the public.
And they’re still doing it—20 years after the 2005 settlement. Don’t believe me? Then why are they still fighting survivors in court?
Yeah. It’s enraging.
It’s time to stop doubling down—on asbestos, on cover-ups, and on the protection of known abusers.
And that’s why I can’t walk away from this fight, no matter how much I sometimes want to … and no matter how many times I try.
So yeah, I’m going back to true crime for a bit.
At least in those stories, someone usually gets what they deserve.