Stepping Out with the President
Back in 2007, the secularists were giddy over the possibility that three of the big-name Republicans contemplating a presidency run have questionable pasts: John McCain (affair, divorce), Newt Gingrich (affair, divorce, affair, divorce), and Rudy Giuliani (divorce, affair, divorce). One writer refers to them as “the most maritally challenged crop of presidential hopeful in American political history.”
The same writer thinks it's a good thing. He says it means voters are beginning to grow up:
Of course, you could argue that we'd all benefit if reporters didn't write about any of this. But you could also argue that the support voters gave Bill Clinton suggests that they can handle the truth and are capable of distinguishing between public and private behavior. Perhaps the very fact that Gingrich, Giuliani and McCain are even considering presidential runs reflects a growing maturity in American politics.
Ah yes, the need to distinguish between public and private. It's a familiar observation, but I'm not sure I understand it.
Nearly every examination of a historical figure ends up looking intensely at his home life and seeing how it influenced his public actions, whether it's Pontius Pilate and his wife or Warren Harding's scandalous presidency. The historical lessons are clear: There is no great divide between private and public. The same person walks in both.
If a person doesn't have control of his greed in private life, isn't he more likely to take a bribe in public life? If a person has a terrible temper in private life, isn't he more likely to lose it when we need him to be a good diplomat? If a person is a drunk in private life, isn't he more likely to attend deliberations under the influence? If a person isn't faithful to his betrothed, what makes us think he'll be faithful to 300 million strangers?
The thing is, passion inflames. It distorts the reasoning process. If a person has surrendered himself to passion”“and does so repeatedly, to the point it becomes habitual or erupts in serious misconduct, like adultery”“the effects stay with the person. It's kind of like a hangover. The most noticeable effects of a passion”“the inebriation, the beating heart, the loud talking”“might be gone, but the effects are still there. Take a look at your worst passion. Do you find yourself more inclined to engage in it later, if you indulged it earlier? I do, and so does everyone else. If you don't, you're a spiritual freak.
Of course, a person's misconduct in personal life does not mean that he will definitely perform poorly in office. Far from it. The whole concept of republican government assumes there is a “public thing” (res publica) that is held in trust by the governing individuals, and the public thing is distinguished from the private thing. In public, the official holds his powers in trust for the benefit of everyone. In private, he doesn't. It makes sense that he would rule his two different roles by different standards.
Still, he's still the same person, and the same temptations lurk in both parts of his life. In fact, the temptations in public life are greater, especially in these days of bloated government, where money and women are ample and loose. If a man can't control himself in the private, there's a good chance he can't control himself in the public.
You might want to call his private conduct a “risk indicator.” Educators do it with children all the time, asking “Does a child have certain features outside of school life that would indicate he might have troubles learning or socially adapting?” The educators aren't saying that a child from a home where the father isn't present is going to fail. But the educators are saying that such a child is more likely to fail, and therefore needs to be watched a little more carefully.
And that's what I'm saying with the philandering politicians. They're not necessarily going to fail. But they merit closer watching after we vote them in . . . and even closer watching before we vote for them at all.
