From Delia Graff Fara, at Leiter.
I had a mildly unpleasant experience with Pogge when I was a senior undergraduate at Harvard and he was a visiting professor who stayed in my “house”, Harvard’s equivalent to residential colleges at Princeton and Yale. (I lived in Cabot House.)
In brief, I was having a meeting with Pogge during and after dinner in our dining hall to talk about Rawls and Rousseau, the subjects of my senior thesis. He kept me talking for longer than I felt comfortable with. It was night and the dining hall had long since emptied out. I finally ended the meeting when he started rubbing my thigh, by just saying that it was late and that I needed to leave.