Leading Article: A peculiar way to choose a president

SOME THINGS, it seems, never change. A US presidential election looms, and once again a candidate's private life is in the public arena. The current fuss is about the Republican ante-post favourite, George W Bush, who admits that he once used to drink a lot, but sidesteps allegations that he took cocaine. Next week it may be Al Gore, Elizabeth Dole or Bill Bradley who is confronted with some evidence of sin. Equally predictably, there will be much wringing of hands over the way America's political process has been trivialised, and how intrusive scrutiny scares off many worth-while contenders for public office. In fact, both assertions are wrong.

Yes, the way America chooses its president leaves much to be desired. But the system's biggest failing is not an obsession with "character", but rather the extent to which money and special interests have gained control of the process. If Mr Bush is favourite, it is in good part thanks to the $36m he has raised, with virtually no questions asked. To be sure, US media coverage does trivialise.

For proof, however, look not to investigations of a politician's past, but to the length of the direct soundbites of his speeches on an average TV programme (at the last count some eight seconds, and falling), denying viewers any substantial knowledge of where a candidate stands on the issues.

In a country where anyone over 35 can aspire to the top job, having previously held no national office whatsoever, close scrutiny of his or her background is an obligation. Mr Bush may have been Governor of Texas for four years, but in Minnesota or Oregon he is virtually unknown. And oversensitive souls need not worry at what may come out in the wash. As the case of one William Jefferson Clinton shows, the American public will forgive almost anything.