sin. . .can we just call it that?

    I've found myself listening -- more though osmosis than intent -- to the flood of media coverage about Eliot Spitzer this week. It's fascinating to see how the story is covered, with a peculiar mix of American moralism, schadenfreude and gender bias. I have no comprehensive theory, but a few thoughts:

• NPR interviews an expert on sexual misbehavior and public figures. Of course, he brings up former President Clinton, among other people. The NPR commentator refuses the premise, because what Spitzer did "was clearly illegal." The expert insists he's not talking about legality, but about what causes men to act out sexually period. . .is that so hard to comprehend?
• We had about one day of coverage about Spitzer himself, followed by three solid days about his wife, and political wives in general, and what is going through their heads when they "stand by their man." I know the curiosity is natural, and of course much of it comes out of sympathy for what such a spouse is going through.  But what strikes me about most of the speculation is how arrogant we are to assume we know what the logical or correct response is in  such a situation. All those people saying  "I would never. . . " ought to pipe down. They have no idea what they would actually do. They can't know.
• Lots of editorials have appeared about how there was evidence Spitzer was this "kind of person" after all. Somehow Americans have a hard time accepting that even "good people" can f*** up royally. In fact, some psychologists would argue that it is people with the most perfect public images that are most likely to suffer such a fall.  But you don't need psychology to explain this. It's called sin.  People do dumb things that wound the ones they love and betray the trust others place in them. Sometimes they  even do these things in calculated ways. It happens.