THE WORLD finally has turned against Gary Condit. After months of knowing basically everything one can know about a Congressman's dating habits, popular opinion in America has swung decidedly against the Democratic representative from Modesto, California. Dick Gephardt, Democratic Minority Leader in the House of Representatives, referred to Condit's recent television appearance as "disturbing and wrong" (www.cnn.com). On CNN's "Late Edition," a political commentary show, bipartisan consultant David Gergen made the surprisingly blunt statement that "Gary Condit is a jerk." A CNN poll suggested that less than 30 percent of his constituents would consider voting for him in the next election. These are good things. Unfortunately, the timing of this general condemnation shows the country's misplaced emphasis on Condit's candor and openness, while moral and ethical questions about his behavior are left untouched.
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To state the obvious, Gary Condit is not in good moral standing. His appearance is that of a stereotypical movie character, with Condit - or his body doubles, Jeremy Irons and Sting - playing the role of a smooth killer in a two-hour "Matlock" special.
Condit obviously had an affair with Chandra Levy, a 20-something intern, prior to her disappearance. He attempted to influence someone with whom he likely had a prior fling to lie to the police. None of these qualities are likely to get Condit an endorsement deal with the Walt Disney Company.
Oddly, most of these facts were available to the public months ago. With nothing else important happening in the world - aside from minor issues such as war brewing in the Middle East, the future of the military in America, debates over privatizing Social Security - the 24-hour news shows have made most Americans aware of this Congressman's social problems. Americans have had the chance to decide if having an affair with an intern or inducing someone to lie to the authorities is a sanctionable offense. Since the beginning of the media frenzy, a slim majority of Americans had decided that Condit's actions were reprehensible.
It was only after his recent interview with Connie Chung, however, that the proverbial dam of public opinion burst against Condit, causing the waters of public disdain to wash over the fields of his political future. Obviously, something important happened in the interview that caused members of the Congressman's own party to begin criticizing him.
Did Condit openly discuss his sexual preferences for fuzzy pink bunny slippers? No. Did he accidentally let slip a little statement, like "... and after I killed her ..."? Sadly, no.
Throughout the interview, the Congressman didn't say much. Most would say that he was evasive in the interview. Chung would ask a bold question, like "Did you kill Chandra Levy?" and Condit would respond by looking incredibly uncomfortable and guilty.
Ultimately, it was this lack of candor that has attracted the wrath of mainstream public opinion. Supporters understandably were frustrated by Condit's lack of explanation for his actions. They also were annoyed that Condit didn't bother to admit to anything beyond the fact that he "hasn't been perfect." Most people are aware of their own imperfections. Differences exist, however, between speeding on I-64 and obstructing justice.
Beyond that annoyance, though, is the question of why anybody would attach moral significance to an explanation of bad acts. Regardless of Condit's openness, his actions either are morally wrong and warrant an ethical sanction from the House, or aren't, and therefore do not warrant a sanction. Although an admission of the acts might ease some minds, that admission shouldn't absolve Condit of his alleged immoral behavior.
Given the emphasis on candor, one might wonder how supporters would have reacted had the Congressman sorrowfully admitted to killing the girl. "It was a really big mistake," he would say. "Boy, I sure messed up. I've already apologized to my God and my wife, so I hope America will let me get on with business. I've got obstacles to overcome, but I also have a job to do." His minister would vouch for his sincere apology.
Such disproportionate attention on the aftermath of the actions takes away a necessary focus from the actions themselves. If Condit did nothing worth censuring, not admitting to it should not suddenly make him the target of an ethics investigation. If Condit did commit illegal acts, not admitting to them would not matter very much in the final analysis.
The final wave of condemnation is welcome. Unfortunately, the focus on formalistic questions of candor or apology has lessened what should have been and what should still be a greater focus on what the man actually did.
(Seth Wood's column appears Wednesdays in The Cavalier Daily. He can be reached at swood@cavalierdaily.com.)