Of Sex and Senators: Why the Media Struggle With Nookie-Related News

Nevada Sen. John Ensign's sudden revelation of an extramarital affair was covered by the media in all the usual ways, most of which were rote and uninformative. Here were the most pressing questions posed by some of the coverage: What will be the effects on the next Nevada Senate race? Does this hurt Republicans nationally? Will Ensign run for re-election? Will he step down from his leadership post in the Republican Policy Committee?

The answer to this last question, as it turned out, is yes. But let's admit something upfront: Few people – few Washington journalists, for that matter – have ever heard of the Republican Policy Committee. Regarding the political fallout questions, let's admit something else, too: All quotes on that subject are little more than idle speculation. There's a reason for this kind of superficial news coverage, and it's this: Few journalists do a particularly good job writing about human sexuality, especially when it intersects with politics. Why is that?

One reason is that, like politicians, journalists have private lives, differing tastes, divergent codes of personal conduct. Many have secrets they wouldn't want on Page One (or any page) of their hometown newspaper, either. All of this was evident during the Clinton impeachment saga a decade ago.

Reading the Starr report induced chuckles in some reporters and editors – and horror in others. At news meetings, and in water-cooler conversations in other offices, colleagues risked inadvertently revealing something about themselves by the way they reacted to the latest revelations in the Clinton-Lewinsky affair.

One rake I know was appalled by Bill Clinton's serial gift to women of Walt Whitman's classic book of poetry Leaves of Grass, while an outwardly prim female colleague greeted news of the president's unorthodox use of cigars with a shrug and a nearly imperceptible blush. You never know. And sexual questions are rarely two-dimensional. Many Americans now see John Edwards as the country's biggest cad. Others look at the humiliation tour that Elizabeth Edwards put her husband through and wondered if the full story of that sex scandal isn't more complicated. Even that word, scandal, is loaded; if a journalist uses it, should a reader assume that the writer disapproves of the behavior at issue? Does the more lighthearted tabloid term "sexcapade" imply a sort of condoning?

Several politicians have told me that they believe journalists enjoy writing about the sexual peccadilloes of powerful people, but they're mistaken. One politician, however, did impart an important insight to me. Henry Cisneros left Bill Clinton's cabinet after a lengthy and intrusive special prosecutor's investigation into whether he gave more money to his lover than he had admitted to his wife – or to the FBI during his background check. By then, the affair itself was old news, and Cisneros and his wife had reconciled. But in trying to make amends to the other woman, Cisneros had again found himself in the cross hairs.

He told me that he realized that the rules had changed and that private behavior was subject to public scrutiny in a way it never had been before. But Cisneros cautioned that if journalists and political opponents were going to routinely delve into the private lives of public officials, they shouldn't be shocked when they discovered that real people, with all the normal human frailties, were standing behind the curtain.

So let's return to Nevada Sen. John Ensign for a moment. The bare facts of the issue are these: Ensign had an extramarital affair with the wife of a top Senate aide for about a year. The woman in question was a bookkeeper on his election campaign. Apparently, when the affair came to light, both the woman and her husband quit their jobs and moved back to Las Vegas. The housing market tanked about this time, leaving them without regular employment but with an expensive mortgage payment and a house that was under water: They owe the bank far more than the house is worth. In dire financial straits, the former aide allegedly approached Ensign, asking for a substantial sum of money to keep quiet. This demand prompted the senator to realize he had little choice except to go public.

It would take an extreme partisan to derive joy from such a situation, and although Ensign's main rival in Nevada politics, Harry Reid, is considered quite partisan, Sen. Reid took the high road Tuesday, issuing a statement saying "my thoughts are with Senator Ensign and his family as they go through this difficult time." Did anybody else acquit themselves well in this painful situation?

Well, perhaps. Ensign himself delivered an apparently forthright description of his actions, acknowledged the pain he'd caused, and didn't cry at his own press conference. Nor did he drag his wife, Darlene, to stand at his side while he made the announcement. She, meanwhile, issued a statement expressing empathy for the other couple, and asserting that she and the senator "have come to a reconciliation." She added: "This has been difficult on both families. With the help of our family and close friends our marriage has become stronger. I love my husband." To me, that was a bit more compelling than who will be Ensign's replacement on the Republican Policy Committee.