The New York Times Ends Olivia Waite’s Contract Over Trump Coverage

The New York Times ended romance columnist and novelist Olivia Waite’s contract on Friday after she reposted criticism of the paper’s reporting on new rape allegations against Trump, according to Waite’s statement.

Waite said: “Last Thursday on Bluesky I reposted two of Marisa Kabas’ criticisms of the NYT’s coverage of the new rape allegations against the president.” On Friday, she said, The New York Times declined to continue her fiction-column contract.

The one-paragraph email praised her work but cited her “presumably negative feelings” about the paper, inferred from posts the Times admitted monitoring. According to Waite, the email also said the Times would never ask her to censor herself on social media.

What did Waite challenge in the Times’ reporting?

The dispute began with a House Judiciary Democrats’ report that included new allegations of rape against Trump. Marisa Kabas, an independent journalist for The Handbasket, said she emailed Patrick Healy, the Times’ assistant managing editor for standards and trust.

She asked: “to ask why their story about a House report with new details of rape allegations against the President of the United States included neither those details, nor a single use of the word ‘rape.’”

Kabas’s exchange with Healy attracted more than 440 reposts and 2,300 likes. Mark Jacob, a former Chicago Tribune metro editor and author of the Stop the Presses newsletter about right-wing extremism in America, reposted part of the thread with commentary. Waite then reposted Jacob’s contribution, according to the account.

Jacob wrote: “NY Times assistant managing editor Patrick Healy gives an unacceptable answer when Marisa Kabas asks him why the NYT’s Epstein story this week omitted a new rape accusation against Trump. Healy admits the accuser’s past allegations on Trump were deemed credible enough for the Times to print them.”

His wording called the article an “Epstein story,” although Kabas’s complaint concerned the House report on Trump. Tina Jordan, editor of the Book Review, then told Waite in an email that her clear sentiments about the paper meant it was no longer a good fit for her column.

Where do contributor ethics leave Waite?

The New York Times’ ethical journalism standards set requirements for Nonjournalist Contributors such as Waite, according to the account. But the account found no visible social-media policy for them.

That gap matters because the paper ended Waite’s contract after monitoring her posts. The account questioned why social media became the route to that decision.

The account came from a former Times romance writer who keeps a framed 2007 Times article and clippings of their articles and book roundups. The writer recalled treating the paper’s decision to publish a dedicated romance column, roughly 20 years earlier, as a breakthrough. They said they had been “genuinely excited” for the field.

David Singleton pressed the same concern in a Times Insider chat with Healy on November 2. He wrote: “the vibes are quite clear, given the bent of your coverage of the Alaska race, your ignoring the latest allegations against the sitting POTUS, and your paper’s overall treatment of transgender individuals.”

The commentary also accused The New York Times of claiming objectivity while producing slanted coverage. It noted that the paper eliminated its public editor position in 2017 and said this left little visible accountability for editorial decisions.

Why did Waite invoke romance writing?

Waite said: “As a romance novelist and critic, I must professionally insist on the distinction between feelings and critique.” She argued that romance writers often discuss sex and rape in professional contexts while examining how consent operates under unequal power.

She said these discussions demand nuance and can be fraught. Across vintage bodice-rippers, queer couples in historical eras, modern dark romance and romantasy, or romance combined with fantasy, writers approach intimacy and sexual violence with some detachment.

Her condition was categorical: “The detachment is only tenable so long as the violence remains fictional.” Waite said “Rape is a serious crime” was a factual statement, not an opinion.

Kabas’s other post, which Waite did not repost, noted that the Times had not used the word “rape” while discussing the new House report and its allegation against a sitting president. The commentary argued that avoiding that label before a national midterm election exposed the limits of the Times’ professed neutrality.

The commentary added a pointed irony: The New York Times had ended Waite’s contract through its Book Review. It noted that romance often presents rape from the victim’s perspective and ends such stories with the victim “triumphant, beloved, and happy.”

Waite said it was hard not to view the abrupt exit as retaliation, despite the paper’s assurance that it would not require self-censorship. She also acknowledged that nobody was owed a column or platform and that her gig had arrived at another person’s whim. She described the loss as a period of mourning but said she had no regrets.

The mechanism resembled a speed camera more than an editorial hearing: monitored posts supplied the trigger, and a one-paragraph email supplied the notice.

Asked what she wanted next, Waite answered “aspirational rather than pragmatic.” She said: “I want institutions to be at least as accountable as the people who work for them. I want consequences to be proportional, and not just for romance writers.”

She added: “And I want the safety and bodily autonomy of other people to always be a higher value than emotional detachment and objectivity.” Her conclusion was blunt: “The safety and dignity of human beings is what we cultivate journalistic objectivity for — it has no intrinsic value outside the ethical framework.”

The next test for The New York Times is procedural: explain how it monitors contracted contributors, publish applicable social-media standards, and show that consequences remain proportional when criticism targets the paper itself.