[1] The fall of yet another politician on grounds of marital
infidelity is nothing new, but it is always news. It is also
tiresome and upsetting, for we would like to think that our elected
officials are decent people whose character would not allow this
kind of conduct. It prompts some thoughts about personal
morality and the nature of public service on the part of elected
officials.
[2] When I pledge my support to a candidate for public office -
let's call him John Doe, a candidate for governor - I enter into a
kind of covenant with him, depending on him to fulfill the promises
he has made in the campaign. Because I agree with the
positions he has taken on all or at least most of the issues, I
give him my support. Doe becomes a political "soul-brother,"
advocating for positions that I believe in and may care about
deeply. I justifiably expect him to carry through to the best
of his ability in actualizing the policies and programs that he has
advocated in earning my vote.
[3] This is a political covenant in which we are engaged,
relating to Doe's governmental activity. He did not promise
that he would be faithful to his spouse, be an attentive father to
his children, or be active in his religious community. I would
like him to demonstrate these qualities, of course, but they are
not part of the political covenant I've made with him. I
recognize the distinction between his private life and public
responsibilities, and am sensitive to the fact that as a public
official he is often denied the privacy that the rest of us expect
and enjoy as a matter of course. I find offensive the efforts
of an over-aggressive press that is always ready to pander to the
nosiness of the public concerning the private life of public
officials. As long as Doe is not engaging in illegal activity,
I am obligated to respect his right to privacy.
[4] I also am aware of what politics does to the private life of
an elected official. The partisan spirit that dominates
political life is intent on exploiting anything that appears the
least bit suspicious about a public servant. The driving
purpose of the opposition party is not to ascertain the truth but
to plant suspicion in the public mind and create a distasteful
image of the official that will weaken his standing and make him
vulnerable to political defeat. This turning of morality from
an end to a self-serving means is the way that politics corrupts
morality. The ultimate political weapon would be impeachment,
even though that recourse hardly fits the partisan effort to oust
an office holder on grounds of marital infidelity or other sexual
misdeeds. Any number of admirable presidents (and likely
governors) could not have survived that standard.
[5] The distinction I am working with here between public and
private life fits well within Lutheran social ethics. Luther
recognized the autonomy of the political order and the moral
obligations peculiar to political office. I am not to judge
Doe as a public servant on the basis of his personal faithfulness
to Christ, or his devotion to his wife and children, but on the
basis of his commitment to the people's welfare. If he is a
capable person who works effectively on behalf of justice and
order, he is fulfilling his vocational task. To paraphrase
Luther, "Better a wise but unbelieving secularist at the helm of
government than an incompetent Christian whose personal life is
beyond reproach."
[6] While the above distinction serves as a valid principle, we
run into problems if we try to apply it as an absolute
rule. This is because the distinction between one's private
and public life is not an absolute division; one remains the same
person as one operates in two different worlds. Thus people
who think that a candidate's personal integrity is less than solid
may be justified in thinking that his public actions may also lack
integrity. This point may justify a hard look at Doe's private
life as a way of determining the nature of his character. And
yet the irony of such an investigation is that it may tell us very
little about what Doe will actually accomplish as governor.
To cast one's vote for a candidate on grounds of his
appearing to demonstrate a superior personal morality is likely to
be an exercise in irrelevance.
[7] When we take the case of Governor Spitzer, there are
elements that touch on a number of the points made above. The
FBI was delving into suspicious-looking banking transactions on the
part of Spitzer which could have been intended to dodge the $10,000
threshold that necessitates filing federal reports. That would
have been illegal activity that warranted investigation. But
when the FBI discovered that it was a case of prostitution it
signaled an opportunity to make a sensational disclosure. Thus
politics appears to be driving this episode, with threats of
impeachment being the ultimate weapon to bring the opponent to his
knees. By resigning, Spitzer at least avoids that
humiliation.
[8] The apparent intent of the Justice Department to file
criminal charges against Spitzer could be seen as an attempt to
justify its disclosure of his amorous activities. There was
talk of his being charged with violating the Mann Act, which
prohibits the transporting of a woman across state lines for
immoral purposes. This would be a stretch, however, since the
people running the business rather than the customer are the ones
normally charged for this offense. Little wonder that the
question of a political motivation has been
raised.
[9] These reflections are not intended to deny the moral
seriousness of what Spitzer has done. The seriousness,
however, relates not to the citizens who voted for him, but to his
family. His covenant with his wife has been painfully ruptured
by this immoral betrayal; he has humiliated her and his children
and deserves severe moral censure for it. There are those who
voted for Spitzer who may feel betrayed by this turn of events, but
they ought not feel any sense of complicity in what he has
done. It is not a betrayal of the public trust but an
embarrassment to his supporters and a serious sin against his
family.
[10] I cannot refrain from a further judgment that is both
personal and political: Spitzer has displayed amazing
stupidity. As a former attorney general he forged a political
career out of prosecuting politicians involved in such shady
enterprises as prostitution, the very vice in which he now
indulges. Thus the impact of his misdeed is magnified many
times and he is seen as an unbelievable hypocrite. It is this
fact, rather than the act itself, that creates such a political
storm. But the fact remains that this is a personal tragedy,
and it ought not diminish the significant accomplishments on the
part of Spitzer during his time in public office. Indeed,
whatever his personal weaknesses, he has been a significant force
in uncovering corruption in his state and upholding the rule of
law. That should be a lesson in itself, for all of our
politicians have feet of clay and we can be thankful for whatever
they achieve on behalf of the people they serve.
© April 2008
Journal of Lutheran Ethics (JLE)
Volume 8, Issue 4