Whatever Happened to Shame?

Isn’t this what they call a crying shame?
By Ellen Goodman

Things being what they are, I’m delighted when any newspaper is hiring. And when someone lands a job in journalism, I’m ready to pop the cork. But I find it hard to swallow champagne when the New York Post signs on Ashley Dupre.

Ms. Dupre, you may recall, was the prostitute in the scandal that brought down New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer and threw another stand-by-her-man wife onto the pyre. At that time, the Post ran a one-word headline: “Hooked.” Now they have hired the hooker to be an advice columnist. This is like hiring Bernie Madoff as a personal finance columnist.
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When 12 bankers were invited to the White House woodshed Monday, three didn’t make it. Bad weather delayed their flights. Well, I have one word for those bankers: Amtrak.

Yes, adultery is easier to grasp than credit-default swaps. Tiger Woods, Eliot Spitzer and John Edwards are better known than Lloyd Blankfein, John Mack and Richard Parsons (Google them!). But here’s another word for the bailout babies: shameless.

Shame, we are told, is a self-conscious emotion. But money ranks up there with fame as a self-deceptive shield. I’m no Miss Manners, but if there is any cultural norm left, it’s that you don’t do well by doing others harm.
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