Lanny Davis

Lanny Davis was one of the principal intermediaries between Harvey Weinstein’s team and The New York Times as the newspaper prepared its investigation. He helped communicate the defense’s position, disclosed on background that Weinstein had made between eight and twelve settlements with women, and became a point of contact during the tense final hours before the reporters presented their allegations. His account supplied an important reporting lead, but it was not sufficient on its own: Megan Twohey and Jodi Kantor still needed corroboration and responses from the people named in the story.

Role in Weinstein’s Defense

During an interview about the handling of money raised for amfAR, Davis and Charlie Prince, a Weinstein Company attorney, reinforced the defense that there was nothing to see in the transaction. The discussion with Davis and David Boies had occupied nearly two hours, with Megan Twohey describing how the explanations seemed to lead her in a verbal circle. The subject of that interview was the charity-auction funds, not the allegations about Weinstein’s treatment of women; the distinction mattered because the newspaper’s editors had approved the meeting on the condition that it stay focused on the financial transaction.

Davis’s role extended beyond that conversation. As the investigation neared completion, the reporters were working through a list of people whose accounts or conduct would be addressed, offering them a chance to comment. That process included Steve Hutensky, a Miramax lawyer who had helped negotiate settlements involving Zelda Perkins and Rowena Chiu. Davis became the channel through which the team addressed the larger question of how many settlements there had been, as well as the practical arrangements for presenting the allegations to Weinstein and his representatives.

The Settlement Estimate

A few days before the final approach to publication, Davis answered Twohey’s question on background about the number of payoffs Weinstein had made to women: eight to twelve settlements. The answer startled the reporters because it offered a number that appeared damaging to Weinstein’s position. When Twohey asked whether Davis thought so many payoffs were normal for men, he replied, “I do.” The matter-of-fact answer gave the reporters a striking exchange to evaluate, but it did not remove the need for verification.

The estimate was a lead, not a finished finding. Twohey and Kantor needed a second source to corroborate the figures, and the newspaper still had to contact the people it planned to mention. The distinction between what Davis had supplied on background and what the publication could establish through additional sourcing was part of the reporting’s careful final review. The figure also sat within a larger investigation into settlements and allegations, but the evidence here does not establish that Davis drafted the agreements or participated in negotiating them. His documented contribution was his disclosure of the estimated number and his subsequent role in communications on Weinstein’s behalf.

The Final-Day Exchanges

As the reporters and editors weighed whether to move forward, the newsroom’s deliberations turned into a concrete deadline. By nightfall, the team decided that Twohey and Kantor should speak with Weinstein and his representatives at one o’clock the following afternoon to present the allegations. Twohey put Davis on notice of the proposed meeting. The decision placed the team within a day or two of publication, while leaving time for a response and for further legal and editorial scrutiny.

Davis later sent Rebecca Corbett a personal note acknowledging that he had only just learned of Lauren O’Connor’s email and read it for the first time. He wrote, “Will do my best to do what should have been done a long time ago. I am not optimistic re. a statement. I am shooting for 1 pm today since that seems to be the absolute deadline. Correct me if I am wrong.” The note captured the narrow interval in which the team was trying to obtain a response while finishing the article. It also showed Davis communicating directly with the editors about the timing and prospects for a statement, rather than resolving the underlying allegations.

The next day, as the noon deadline passed, Weinstein’s representatives provided little more than a phone call that denied some allegations, discussed episodes not in the article, and complained that there had not been enough time. Davis called again but had no answers to provide. Dean Baquet, who had until then refused to speak with Weinstein or his representatives, took Twohey’s phone and told Davis to get the multiple lawyers contacting the newspaper in line and return with a response. The exchange made visible a problem of coordination as well as substance: the newsroom was receiving communications from several lawyers, while the deadline for a coherent answer was expiring.

At 1:43 p.m., a letter from Charles Harder arrived, marked confidential, off the record, and not for publication. The reporters did not regard those labels as binding because they had not agreed to keep the material off the record. The letter threatened a lawsuit if the newspaper proceeded. Davis was not identified as its author; his documented part in this episode was the preceding communications and calls, including the call Baquet interrupted. The distinction matters: the letter represented the legal threat, while Davis served as one of the people through whom Weinstein’s team addressed the Times.

Resignation and Significance

After publication, the investigation’s account of the effort to manage allegations and the people associated with it continued to unfold. Twohey reported that Lisa Bloom had promised the Weinstein Company board that photos of Weinstein’s accusers posing with him would be published. Bloom had resigned from Weinstein’s team by then, and Davis had also resigned. The sequence marked a change in his position: the representative who had helped convey Weinstein’s defense and field the newspaper’s questions was no longer part of the team.

The book presents Davis principally through these reporting encounters, rather than through a broader personal biography. His significance lies in the contrast between two functions of access: he supplied a potentially consequential settlement count, then became a contact in a rushed, fragmented effort to answer the newspaper’s findings. Neither his estimate nor the eventual response ended the investigation. The reporters continued seeking corroboration, and the published account was followed by further reporting on what Weinstein’s companies knew and when. Davis’s role therefore illuminates both the value and the limits of a source close to a subject: information could advance the inquiry, while the source’s position within the defense shaped how and when that information reached the newsroom.