Now that the pace of the #MeToo movement has slowed from shocking daily revelations, the real work, the true reckoning, begins.

Before #MeToo went viral in fall 2017, with scores of women sharing stories of sexual assault and sexual harassment, I had found it hard to know what to do when I heard an off-color break room comment or felt objectified, overlooked or interrupted. I'd make mental notes of men who gave me the creeps and listen carefully when other women shared their experiences.

I would share my own experiences in hushed tones and with raised eyebrows, omitting names if it seemed professionally risky. When someone would say, "Oh, now that he's married, he's less creepy," I'd nod. But internally, my suspicion would not relent.

This practice, I now understand, is a whisper network. Monica Byrne rightly points out that what some call gossip is often the exchange of sanity- and life-saving information. But whisper networks are imperfect. Those on the outside of a whisper network or who are new in town don't get the information. And whisper networks provide only the bare minimum of protection, alerting us to avoid known predators and exploiters.

Moira Donegan sought to overcome the limitations of the whisper network when she developed the Media Men list, an anonymously crowd-sourced Google spreadsheet that allowed people to list men in the media industry who sexually abused, harassed or coerced others. The creation of the list sought to give women an alternative place to report harassment without fear of retaliation, judgment or reproach. Women were able to exchange important information outside the rules and laws that govern HR offices and law enforcement. The list was live for only a few hours before its viral existence surpassed Donegan's capacity to manage it.