Political Scandal

Power and Visability in the Media Age

John B. Thompson

• Publisher: Polity
• Year: 2013
• Print ISBN: 9780745625508, 9780745625492
• eBook ISBN: 9780745657059
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Sociology
• Index: Social Sciences

Political scandals have become a pervasive feature of many societies today. From Profumo to the cash-for-questions scandal, from Watergate to the Clinton-Lewinsky affair, scandals have come to play a central role in politics and in the shaping of public debate. What are the characteristics of political scandals and why have they come to assume such prominence today? What are the social and political consequences of the preoccupation with political scandal in the public domain?

In this major new book Thompson develops a systematic and wide-ranging analysis of the phenomenon of political scandal. He shows that the rise of political scandal is linked to the changes brought about by the development of communication media, which have transformed the nature of visibility and altered the relations between public and private life. He analyses the characteristics of scandals as mediated events and he explains why mediated scandals in the political field have become increasingly prevalent in recent years.

Distinguishing between three basic types of political scandal, Thompson reconstructs the development of sex scandals, financial scandals and what he calls 'power scandals' in Britain and the United States, showing how scandals unfold and how they form part of distinctive political cultures of scandal. In the final chapter, Thompson develops an original theoretical account of political scandal and its consequences which highlights the connections between scandal, reputation and trust.

This book is a path-breaking analysis of a troubling phenomenon which has become a central feature of public life in our societies today. It will be of great interest to students of sociology, politics, and media and cultural studies. It will also appeal to a wider readership interested in social and political issues.

1

What is Scandal?

Today we take the notion of scandal for granted. ‘Scandal’ is a word that appears frequently in the press and slips effortlessly from the lips, and yet, like many of the words we use, its origins are obscure and its meaning is hard to pin down. How many of the journalists who are so quick to proclaim a scandal could, if asked, provide a definition of ‘scandal’ or delineate the characteristics of the phenomenon whose existence they are claiming to unveil? How many of the readers or viewers who are bombarded with an incessant flow of scandalous revelations could, if asked, explain what makes an event a ‘scandal’, or what distinguishes revelations which are ‘scandalous’ from those which are not?

In fact, the concept of scandal is much more complicated than it might at first seem. This is a concept with a long and complex history, in the course of which some connotations have been preserved and others discarded. It is a concept which conveys much more than it clearly articulates and which, when one begins to unravel the layers of meaning, reveals some unusual traits. In this chapter I shall retrace this history and begin to analyse some of the characteristics of this much used but seldom studied notion.

The Concept of Scandal

The word ‘scandal’ and its cognates became increasingly common in European languages from the sixteenth century on, but the word has a much longer history which can be traced back to Greek, Latin and early Judaeo-Christian thought. In terms of its etymological origins, the word probably derives from the Indo-Germanic root skand-, meaning to spring or leap. Early Greek derivatives, such as the word skandalon, were used in a figurative way to signify a trap, an obstacle or a ‘cause of moral stumbling’.¹ The word was first used in a religious context in the Septuagint, the Greek version of the Old Testament. The idea of a trap or an obstacle was an integral feature of the theological vision of the Old Testament. It helped to explain how a people indissolubly linked to God, to Yahweh, could nonetheless begin to doubt Him and to lose their way: such doubt stemmed from an obstacle, a stumbling block placed along the path, which was intended to test people and to see how they would react.² This idea was expressed in the Septuagint by the word skandalon.

The notion of a trap or obstacle became part of Judaism and of early Christian thought, but it was gradually prised apart from the idea of a test of faith. Christian theology placed more emphasis on individual culpability; if individuals stumble and lose their way, if they commit sinful acts, this may stem from their own inner weakness and fallibility. Moreover, with the development of the Latin word scandalum and its diffusion into Romance languages, the religious connotation was gradually attenuated and supplemented by other senses. Hence the word escandre in Old French (eleventh century); this was derived from scandalum and meant both ‘scandal’ and ‘calumny’. Hence also the Old French word esclandre, from which the English word slander was derived.

The word ‘scandal’ first appeared in English in the sixteenth century. Similar words appeared in other Romance languages at roughly the same time (in Spanish, escándalo; Portuguese, escandalo; Italian, scandalo). ‘Scandal’ was derived from Latin, and probably from the French word scandale, which had been introduced to convey the strict sense of the ecclesiastical Latin term scandalum, as distinct from the senses that had been developed by esclandre. The early uses of ‘scandal’ in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were, broadly speaking, of two main types.³ First, ‘scandal’ and its cognates were used in religious contexts to refer (Ia) to the conduct of a religious person which brought discredit to religion, or (Ib) to something that hindered religious faith or belief (as in Francis Bacon’s phrase of 1625, ‘Heresies and Schismes, are of all others, the greatest scandals’). The latter usage (Ib) retained the sense, derived from the original Greek, of scandal as a moral lapse or stumbling block.

The second type of usage was more secular in character and had to do with (IIa) actions or utterances which were scurrilous or defamatory, (IIb) actions, events or circumstances that were grossly discreditable, or (IIc) conduct which offended moral sentiments or the sense of decency. The use of ‘scandal’ to refer to actions and utterances which were defamatory attests to the fact that, in terms of their etymological origins, ‘scandal’ and ‘slander’ were very close. Both words were used to refer to damaging or defamatory imputations, but they differed in one important respect: the use of ‘scandal’ did not necessarily imply, whereas the use of ‘slander’ did, that the imputations made were false.

In using ‘scandal’ to refer to grossly discreditable actions, events or circumstances (IIb), or conduct which offended moral sentiments or the sense of decency (IIc), the word acquired an additional and important connotation. In its religious uses, ‘scandal’ involved a relation between an individual or individuals (believers or waverers) and a religious doctrine or system of belief. In the use of ‘scandal’ to refer to damaging or defamatory imputations, the word implied a relation between individuals (the individual whose words defamed another, and the individual who was defamed). But when ‘scandal’ was used to describe grossly discreditable actions, events or circumstances, or to describe conduct which offended moral sentiments or the sense of decency, a different kind of relation was implied – a relation between, on the one hand, an individual or humanly created event or circumstance and, on the other hand, a social collectivity whose moral sentiments were offended.⁴ Scandal thus involved a transgression of moral codes which could be, but did not have to be, religious in character, and with reference to which the action or event was denounced.

It is the latter presuppositions which underlie the most common uses of the word ‘scandal’ today. While the word continues to have some use as a specialized religious term,⁵ ‘scandal’ is used today primarily to describe a broader form of moral transgression, one which is no longer linked specifically to religious codes. What is a scandal in this modern sense of the term? As a working definition, we could say that ‘scandal’ refers to actions or events involving certain kinds of transgressions which become known to others and are sufficiently serious to elicit a public response. To be more precise, I shall suggest that, in its current usage, ‘scandal’ refers primarily to actions, events or circumstances which have the following characteristics:

1 their occurrence or existence involves the transgression of certain values, norms or moral codes;

2 their occurrence or existence involves an element of secrecy or concealment, but they are known or strongly believed to exist by individuals other than those directly involved (I shall refer to these individuals as ‘non-participants’);

3 some non-participants disapprove of the actions or events and may be offended by the transgression;

4 some non-participants express their disapproval by publicly denouncing the actions or events;

5 the disclosure and condemnation of the actions or events may damage the reputation of the individuals responsible for them (although this is not always or necessarily the case, as we shall see).

Let us briefly examine each of these characteristics in turn.

(1) The most obvious aspect of scandal is that it involves actions or events which transgress or contravene certain values, norms or moral codes. Some form of transgression is a necessary condition of scandal: there would be no scandal without it. But the nature of the transgression is also important: not all transgressions are scandalous (or even potentially so). Some transgressions may be too minor to constitute a scandal, while others may be too serious. It is doubtful, for example, whether a minor traffic offence (such as a parking ticket) would form the basis for a scandal (although one could imagine circumstances in which a minor offence of this kind was part of the unfolding plot of a scandal); on the other hand, we would hesitate to describe an act of large-scale genocide, such as that involved in the Holocaust or in the massacre carried out by the Khmer Rouge, as a ‘scandal’, since the scale and the horror of these calamities are far in excess of the kind of offence we normally associate with this term. In the first case, ‘scandal’ seems too strong a word to use, in the second case it seems too weak. As Anthony King rightly remarks, ‘scandals occupy a sort of middle ground of impropriety’:⁶ they involve transgressions which are sufficiently serious to elicit the disapproval of others but which fall short of the most heinous crimes. There is, of course, a good deal of greyness here; the kinds of transgressions that could be regarded as scandalous behaviour shade into trivial misconduct at one extreme and serious crime at the other. But it is part of the concept of scandal that it occupies this middle zone of moral impropriety and that the boundaries of this zone are ill-defined.

While scandal necessarily involves some form of transgression, it is obvious to the most casual observer that there is a great deal of diversity and cultural variability in the kinds of values, norms and moral codes which are relevant here: what counts as scandalous activity in one context – say, extramarital affairs among members of the political elite – may be regarded as quite acceptable (even normal) elsewhere. Values and norms have differing degrees of what we could call ‘scandal sensitivity’, depending on the social-historical context and the general moral and cultural climate of the time, and depending on the extent to which these values and norms matter to particular individuals or groups. The values or norms must have some degree of moral force or ‘bindingness’ for some individuals or groups. The disclosure of Parnell’s relationship with Katharine O’Shea was particularly damaging for the man and his cause precisely because it occurred in the context of late Victorian Britain, when adultery was condemned by an influential moral purity lobby within Gladstone’s Liberal Party, with which Parnell was temporarily allied in the pursuit of home rule, and by the Catholic Church, which remained a powerful force in Ireland.

Despite the evident diversity and variability in the kinds of values and norms which are relevant to scandal, there are nevertheless certain types of norm which are more scandal-sensitive than others. Norms and moral codes governing the conduct of sexual relations are particularly prone to scandal: to transgress these norms is, depending on the context and the specific circumstances of the individuals concerned, to run a serious risk of scandal. Norms governing financial transactions are also scandal-prone, especially when the transgressions involve serious fraud or corruption. A third type of scandal-sensitive norm is represented by the rules, conventions and procedures which govern the pursuit and exercise of political power. Scandals stemming from the transgression of this type of norm are probably most likely to occur in liberal democratic regimes, since these regimes place particular emphasis on a formal system of laws and other procedures which are intended to apply equally and in principle to all individuals.⁷ Sex, money, power: it is little wonder that scandal has exerted, and no doubt will continue to exert, a degree of fascination for the popular imagination.⁸

Just as certain norms are more scandal-sensitive than others, so too some individuals are more likely to be confronted by scandal on the occasion of transgressing a norm. All citizens may be formally equal before the law, but not all transgressors are equal in the court of scandal. This differential susceptibility to scandal is linked in part to the degree of visibility of the individuals concerned: some individuals, by virtue of their positions, achievements or responsibilities, are much more visible than others, and therefore more vulnerable to scandal in the event of transgressing a norm. Moreover, individuals who, by virtue of their positions or affiliations, espouse or represent certain values or beliefs (such as those advocated by a religious organization or a political party) are especially vulnerable to scandal, since they run the risk that their private behaviour may be shown to be inconsistent with values or beliefs which they publicly espouse. Many scandals involve an element of hypocrisy – not just the transgression of norms, but the transgression of norms by individuals whose practice falls short of what they (or their organizations) preach for themselves and others. I shall describe this circumstance as ‘Parkinson’s predicament’, in reference to the British Conservative MP and former party chairman who found himself in the uncomfortable position of leading a party committed to the defence of traditional family values at the very moment when his long-standing affair with his former secretary became public.⁹

I have suggested that the transgression of a value or norm can give rise to a scandal only if the value or norm has some degree of moral force or ‘bindingness’ for some of the individuals who become aware of its transgression. But this is not to say that these values or norms are likely to elicit general or widespread consensus in a particular social-historical context, nor is it to say that these values or norms are matters about which most people feel very strongly and with reference to which they organize their own lives. On the contrary, values and norms are often contested features of social life, adhered to by some individuals and groups and rejected (or simply ignored) by others. Hence scandals are often rather messy affairs, involving the alleged transgression of values and norms which are themselves subject to contestation. Moreover, values and norms are always embedded in relations of power; they structure social life in ways that permit certain kinds of activity and exclude or forbid others (or force them underground). In many cases, scandals are not just about actions which transgress certain values or norms: they are also about the cultivation or assertion of the values or norms themselves. Thus the making of a scandal is often associated with a broader process of ‘moralization’ through which certain values or norms are espoused and reaffirmed – with varying degrees of effectiveness and good faith – by those who denounce the action as scandalous.

Scandals are often messy affairs not only because values and norms are commonly contested, but also because, in the unfolding sequence of actions and utterances that constitute a particular scandal, a multiplicity of values and norms may be implicated. A specific transgression may lie at the origin of a particular scandal and may form the initial focus of attention, but the unfolding sequence of actions and events may shift the focus elsewhere, in such a way that the initial transgression is overshadowed by other concerns. Many scandals involve what I shall describe as ‘second-order transgressions’ where attention is shifted from the original offence to a series of subsequent actions which are aimed at concealing the offence. The attempt to cover up a transgression – a process that may involve deception, obstruction, false denials and straightforward lies – may become more important than the original transgression itself, giving rise to an intensifying cycle of claim and counter-claim that dwarfs the initial offence and fuels a scandal which escalates with every twist. It seems clear that second-order transgressions played a crucial role in the downfall of John Profumo, the British Secretary of State for War whose political career was destroyed by the scandal surrounding his affair with Christine Keeler. On 22 March 1963, amid much speculation in the press and at Westminster, Profumo made a personal statement in the House of Commons in which he explicitly denied that he had been involved with Christine Keeler (‘There was no impropriety whatsoever in my acquaintanceship with Miss Keeler’), a denial that he was subsequently obliged to retract in his letter of resignation. The murky details of Profumo’s affair with Christine Keeler were overshadowed by the clear-cut seriousness of this second-order transgression, a point brought out rather well in an anonymous rhyme:

Oh what have you done, cried Christine,

You’ve wrecked the whole party machine!

To lie in the nude may be terribly rude,

But to lie in the House is obscene.

Why do second-order transgressions become so important in the social dynamic of scandal? Partly because they may involve the violation of codes of behaviour which are regarded as constitutive of particular forms of life. Profumo’s affair with Christine Keeler was an ill-judged action which seriously compromised his position as Minister of War (unfortunately for Profumo, Christine Keeler was sleeping with a Soviet naval attaché at the same time), but his position was ultimately undermined by the fact that he explicitly lied t...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title page
• Copyright page
• Illustrations
• Preface
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1 What is Scandal?
• 2 The Rise of Mediated Scandal
• 3 Scandal as a Mediated Event
• 4 The Nature of Political Scandal
• 5 Sex Scandals in the Political Field
• 6 Financial Scandals in the Political Field
• 7 Power Scandals
• 8 The Consequences of Scandal
• Conclusion
• Index