Discover Politics

Courtesy South Carolina Governor's Office

You don’t have to delve too deep to uncover news of the most recent infidelity in American life. You’d have to be stuck on an inner-tube in the boundary waters for the past couple months to miss David Letterman’s on-air admission of affairs with his staff-members.

Our culture is rife with scandals of infidelity, but as Letterman’s story fades from the headlines, his place as television’s elder statesman of late-night is still secure. In fact, news of Letterman’s affair sparked an outcry of support from his friends and colleagues. His admission even drew immediate on-air applause. It is difficult not to contrast this treatment with the cloud of controversy that surrounds similar scandals when they are centered on a politician or public official. Unlike Letterman’s case, entire political careers and professional reputations have been left in the wake of various Zippergates throughout the years.

So what makes politicians so much more vulnerable to the occupational consequences of their carnal misdeeds? There are really two factors that distinguish politicians from the rest of us sinners.
First, the nature of their actions usually warrants a stronger response; politicians’ affairs have often been more daring, if not less discreet than the average affair. Mark Sanford lied to an entire state when he flew to Argentina for an international booty call. So much for lip stick on the collar; Sanford’s wife got suspicious when his affair showed up on CNN. By the time it made Fox News she was convinced.

But at least Sanford had the discretion to choose a private residence; former President Clinton didn’t have that luxury.  Even Slick Willie couldn’t pull off a South American escapade like Sanford’s with Air Force One and a secret service detail. So instead, he had to settle for the oval office. Clinton’s affair drew a lot of extra heat because he cheated while he was in the seat of power… literally. Eliot Spitzer avoided government property when he was busted, but he could not avoid public ridicule. The Governor of New York, once dubbed “The Enforcer” by Fortune Magazine for his hard-nosed crime-fighting as district attorney, was known to his pay-girl mistresses simply as “Client Number Nine.” He was forced to resign.

These outlandish examples aren’t really that outlandish when it comes to the political elite. There is a long laundry list of politicians whose adulterous escapades defy belief. Senator David Vitter of Louisiana was revealed to have used a D.C. brothel several times as a Congressman. He won his seat in a special election after his predecessor, Bob Livingston, resigned in the midst of his own adultery scandal. From Ensign and Condit, to Gingrich and JFK, politicians have been fighting sex scandals with regularity for centuries.

The strategy these days, in an age of digital documents and lie detector tests, has been trending towards full and immediate disclosure. Tabloid magazines and television shows can offer too much incentive to keep a mistress quiet, and the tools for producing evidence are much more ubiquitous than they have been in the past. Can you imagine if Paula Jones had a cell phone camera? What would Marilyn Monroe have tweeted after a beltway-rendezvous if the technology had been available? With such a lucrative and reliable market for muck, airing out one’s dirty laundry has become a simple calculation: if there is an accusation and any paper trail to back it up, then disclose everything and get it over with.

Consider the case of John Edwards. The former Senator and candidate for Vice President is the incorruptible leading man in the Frank Capra feature film that plays on constant a loop in his mind. This state of psychosis was shattered when Edwards was cornered by tabloid reporters in the lobby bathroom of his mistress’s hotel in the summer of 2008. Edward’s affair was rather mundane: boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy vows to marry girl after his cancer-suffering wife is dead.

Once Edward’s story broke, he had little choice but to come clean. Edwards hit the airwaves like Ryan Seacrest with a sugar rush. The culmination of Edward’s attempted redemption came with one hell of an awkward exchange between John’s wife, Elizabeth, and Oprah Winfrey, as the two try to mimic her husband’s mistress’s pick-up line. As they jokingly discussed the eloquence of the phrase “you’re so hot,” and the intentions of its speaker, Elizabeth Edwards ignored the fact that her husband had made extensive post-mortem romantic plans. After the commercial break, viewers got a tour of their home as John feigned humanity.
It is no wonder that politicians are torched for such scandals, these actions convey an attitude of arrogance. If Edwards is saddened, it’s because he is not as impervious as he thought. Aside from passing judgment on his character, politicians like Edwards can be objectively criticized for their lack of judgment and foresight. They know very well the consequences of their actions. When Bill Clinton became embroiled in his sex scandal, he called on a well-known Democratic attorney to depose the two most crucial witnesses, Monica Lewinsky and Vernon Jordan. That attorney was John Edwards.

Still, it cannot be said that politicians are the only Americans with bizarre or arrogant infidelities. To err is human, and people from every walk of life can stray from the faithful path. So why the outrage for public officials? Why don’t they get the free pass that has already been given to David Letterman? The answer to that is at the very heart of our democracy, at the core of our political culture. Every American, from the stuffiest, most conservative septuagenarian (Scalia), down to the punkiest anarchy symbol-sporting anti-socialite in your high school class, has a vested interest in our nation. If you have bought a pack of gum, or collected a paycheck, or defrauded your best friend for a million dollars profit, you have bought a little chunk of this country.

As a shareholder of USA Inc., you have the ability to elect leaders, and you have the right to judge their actions. If their actions aren’t aligned with your values or beliefs, you can and should be upset. That is the trade-off. You have to pay your taxes, but once that check is cashed, you have every right to expect professional and ethical satisfaction. If you are invested in a company, and the CEO of that company philanders to your disliking, you can sell your stocks and simply cash out. There is no cashing out on your commitment to the U.S. Government, and this obligation to the representatives of that Government is what separates David Letterman from Mark Sanford.