Our Ready Embrace of Those Cheating Pols

Americans took these ideas to heart. In a 1994 survey of 24 countries, we disapproved of adultery more than people anywhere but Ireland and the Philippines (our former Cold War foe Russia was the most permissive). And more than 25,000 marriage and family therapists -- up from 3,000 in 1970 -- were teaching us that recovering from infidelity was an all-consuming process that could take years. Many believed that healthy couples didn't keep secrets, so the "offending spouse" should tell the "betrayed spouse" every detail. America's new mantra on affairs became: "It's not the sex, it's the lying."

By the late 1990s, Americans increasingly viewed infidelity not just as a relationship problem but as evidence of a physical disorder or a larger societal problem. Support groups for "betrayed spouses" and straying "sexual addicts" began appearing nationwide and on the Internet. As the topic came out of the closet, infidelity experts arose; the chief qualification some of them offered was having cheated or been cheated on.

When Bill Clinton's dalliances with a White House intern became public in 1998, the president's antagonists in Congress tried to play a primitive game of gotcha. Clinton wisely followed the therapeutic playbook that Americans were following at home. First he came out of denial and admitted to "a critical lapse in judgment and a personal failure." Then he went on tour to apologize for having "wronged" his supporters. Ironically, the detailed disclosures in the Starr Report mirrored the confessions Americans were offering in their own therapists' offices and may have helped the nation trust its president again. Soon after the Republican-led House voted to impeach Clinton, his approval rating jumped to an all-time high of 73 percent.

Not everyone was satisfied with Clinton's disclosures. Therapeutic thinking had infiltrated the White House, too, with colleagues playing the role of betrayed spouse. In 2004, David Remnick wrote in the New Yorker that the relationship between Clinton and Al Gore "collapsed nearly into silence" after it became clear that Clinton had initially lied to his vice president about the affair. According to Remnick, this distrust contributed to Gore's decision not to enlist Clinton in his 2000 bid for the presidency.

The American public was satisfied on all points but one: Hillary Clinton appeared to tolerate her husband's repeated infidelities. That's not part of the script. Marriage experts were flooded with phone calls demanding to know whether the Clinton marriage was merely a political arrangement; many people found it inconceivable that the relationship could still be based on love.

But now the country may have caught up with the Clintons. The latest thinking from therapists and religious groups is that affairs need not be a marital death sentence. Some evangelical and other Christian congregations are so alarmed by rampant divorce that they're counseling people to work through their problems rather than split up. Therapists and self-appointed marriage experts are increasingly promoting the same message. And as children of the divorce explosion in the late 1970s now hit bumps in their own marriages, they're rethinking the one-strike rule.

That, combined with the fact that we've now been through it before, means that Americans are less likely to sound the death knell for straying politicians. But while fidelity isn't strictly required, a love story is. (Which could potentially spell bad news for Sen. David Vitter of Louisiana and his forays into the "escort" world.) In private life, the most accepted excuse for cheating is that you fell out of love with one person and in love with another.

Presidential hopefuls are taking heed. Giuliani is careful to show that although his marriage to his current wife, Judith, may have been forged through infidelity, she's the love of his life. An ally of Gingrich's recently told a reporter that although the former House speaker is on his third marriage, "this time, it's really love." No doubt Bill and Hillary were trying to make a similar point in Iowa.

Given the patchy marital histories of many candidates, we can expect lots more lovin' on the campaign trail.

pdruckerman@gmail.com

Pamela Druckerman is the author of "Lust in Translation: The Rules of Infidelity from Tokyo to Tennessee."