[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
Volume 8, Issue 4