The Confession Procession

"Mistakes were made," Attorney General Alberto Gonzales admitted when pressed about the purge of eight U.S. Attorneys viewed as unfriendly to the Administration. "Mistakes were made," President Bush agreed the next day. It's a bad sign when officials are left quoting Nixon spokesman Ron Ziegler, whose handling of Watergate set the standard for nonconfessions as well as nondenials. Flamboyant apology has never been in the Bush script. This is an Administration known for firing people for independence, not incompetence. But campaign season has arrived, subpoena power has changed hands, and suddenly everyone is in a purgative mood.

This was Gonzales' second round in as many weeks, having joined FBI chief Robert Mueller in admitting how far the FBI had stretched the Patriot Act in order to probe the phone and bank records of 52,000 people suspected of terrorism. Setting the pace in the accountability race was Defense Secretary Bob Gates, who fired the Army Secretary for not firing those responsible for the Walter Reed scandal.

In private life the conscience is our secret police, driving us to repent, but in public life contrition is often more about opportunity than obedience. With epic misconduct on every front page--the Vice President's man a convicted perjurer, the sacred trust of wounded soldiers betrayed--there was a window for anyone accused of more commonplace crimes to wipe the slate clean.

Newt Gingrich confesses his serial marital sins to Focus on the Family founder James Dobson and wins absolution; Mitt Romney admits the error of his earlier tolerance of abortion rights. John Edwards seldom misses a chance to repent of his vote for the war, to highlight Hillary Clinton's refusal to do likewise. As for paying for past mistakes, Barack Obama took care of $400 worth of parking tickets left over from his law-school days--two weeks before he announced his candidacy.

Talk is cheap when confession plays as entertainment on daytime TV. In politics, as in church, there's no telling when penitence is sincere, for God alone knows the human heart. But it's a useful test in judging character to ask whether admitting failure comes at a cost--or a discount.