Say Howdy To Mendacity

   


    In the vintage western movie "Hondo"  -- based on a story by the late novelist and poet Louis L'Amour --  John Wayne protects a widow and her little boy from marauding Apaches. A key scene has the Apache war chief offering to release the three of them if Wayne will promise to conceal the Indians' whereabouts from approaching cavalry. In response, the Duke growls, "This I will not do."  The chief smiles in affirmation of Wayne's refusal to be a traitor and lets them go anyway.  The chief's proposition was a test, Wayne later explains to the widow: "Indians hate a liar."
    Though pooh-poohed by the smart set, Wayne's westerns were not bad work. And they were about more than cowboys and Indians. This one was about integrity.  The scene with the war chief was one of the theme-setters. The stereotype of the noble red man was used as counterpoint to white characters whose standards of behavior were not right and wrong but advantage and expediency. An Indian hated lies. Did  "civilized" white men? Maybe, maybe not.
    Even Louis L'Amour might deem his metaphors quaint in today's world. While most of us would say we dislike deceit, people who want our attention and allegiance plentifully bet that we are flexible on the point. If they weasel on matters of integrity, will we turn away from them? Maybe, maybe not.
    Hillary Clinton would be high on this list. She has entered the presidential  race  carrying -- as ever -- baggage.  She is said to be careless of appropriate boundaries between her public duty and her private interests. Details of the Clintons' alleged indiscretions may be perennially debatable. However, it seems fair to observe that the debate is, in fact, perennial. Also, we may usefully note the announced theme of her presidential campaign: She's an ordinary gal. Just one of the folks, like you and me.  This theme has the virtue of being warm and the telltale defect of being manifestly untrue.
    Meanwhile, over at NBC network news, anchor Brian Williams is half way through a six-month suspension for fibbing in some of his news reports.  For this offense a lesser light would have been fired before lunchtime. But Williams is a star. The audience likes him. He boosts ratings, and ratings boost revenue.   NBC management holds open the possibility that Williams will return to the air. Commercial imperatives are being weighed. Will integrity weigh as much? Maybe, maybe not.
    (Less of a stir has been caused by similar accusations against one of the stars in Fox News' cast of performers. My theory:  The Fox faithful refuse to believe it, and no one else is surprised.)
    If popular sports can reflect values in an affluent culture -- and they can -- the example of the New England Patriots' football team is worth considering.   The Patriots have been caught cheating, and not for the first time.  In this iteration, they deflated footballs for easier handling in a key game. Early explanations scapegoated a couple of underlings, but speculation would not ignore an obvious point: Golden boy quarterback Tom Brady cannot have failed to know.
    Brady smirked and baffle-gabbed his way past the question until an investigation concluded the obvious: He cannot have failed to know. The league suspended him for four games and fined the Patriots' organization $1 million.
    As commercial entertainment, professional football can let its standards be a matter for vendors,  customers, and the kept regulators who eventually get around to slapping wrists.  But will fans ever fully forget that Brady is a cheat? Will they always wonder if victory involves a little performance-enhancing funny business with the rules?  Integrity is a Humpty-Dumpty thing. In seeing the Patriots twice resolve to win by any means, and twice skate through being caught, football consumers have received notice: They are at risk of  buying an adulterated product.
    Corruption in journalism is, obviously, a more serious issue. But television news has one foot inextricably in show business.  The telling thing in the NBC episode is less Brian Williams' deceit than the network's long pause in deciding how much it matters. Eventually, television may decide to reconsider the whole institution of the prime time news anchor. Consumers with multiplying options for obtaining news and information could lose appetite for a standing appointment with a friendly face.
    Among adulterated products, the Clinton candidacy should concern us sharply. Given her lead over Democrats, and the Keystone Kops nature of the Republican field, she is likelier than anyone now in view to be the next president. Yet she has bought into the ethic that political leadership consists of finding a marketable pose. We must hope she knows better and would eventually choose to do better.