Panic is in the air, fueled by too much talk about sacrifice, the S-word here in the Land of the Free. Americans, not accustomed to confronting reality, are overdosing.

After announcing parts of his budget plan in his State of the Union address, President Clinton campaigned for its approval all over the country with extended marketing pitches--a true Clinton signature if there ever were one. One wondered if Carville and Begala had focus groups react to the plan before it was announced.

Over the course of the renewed campaign, Clinton substituted "contribution" for sacrifice when explaining some of the 'extreme measures' that the economy's long-term health requires. Even this euphemistic phrase caused paranoid pundits to write about the 'austerity revolution'.

Back home in Canada, on the other hand, we smile widely when we hear about increased taxes, particularly those that punish the wicked. Indeed, our moralistic cravings are deleriously satisfied when the 'sin taxes' on gas, cigarettes and alcohol are jacked up. Somewhere, Canadians are doubling over in laughter, thinking "Ooooh, poor America, time to pay off the bills. Poor, poor, baby. How will they ever deal with this?"

Clearly, American politicians feel that their constituents can't digest the truth in their already distended stomachs. But more than bloated bellies, the doublespeak of "contribution" reveals the potentially corrosive force that mendacity has in American politics. Clinton has been extensively praised for his honesty and "tough-talk" on the editorial and op-ed pages of the nation. For what? For the "fairness" of the plan and its oh-so-serious attempt to reduce the budget deficit? Or for its far-reaching vision (i.e. re-election in four years) to rebuild and invest in America?

Cynical musings coming to the fore? Perhaps. It's certainly not a large concession to admit that Clinton has moved the body politic forward in spirit, if not in body. The infamous polls express that quite clearly.

In any case, I (and some of my Canadian and European counterparts) can't help bemoan the relatively shallow level of political discourse here. In America, words of sacrifice still sound pagan, or at least like some foreign religious tradition. This discrepancy in American and Canadian politics is particularly apparent in the discussion of health care.

Last week, Bob Rae, the premier of Ontario, spoke in an unusually frank manner at the Center for International Affairs on lessons that the United States could learn from Ontario's health-care system. At one point in the discussion, he remarked that the absurd amounts spent on marginal health-care technology to preserve lives already at their tail end was a fruitless attempt to raise our collective quality of life. American medical-research institutions, he said, are trying to do to natural death what the Victorians did to sex--sweep it under the carpet and pretend that it doesn't exist.

As cold-blooded as this may seem, this self-evident truth (Op-ed rule no. 12: Always dismiss potential criticism by labelling your assertions as self-evident) becomes more compelling when you realize the danger posed by the disparity in funding between children and the so-called golden-agers (or used people, as Hollywood now calls them).

Those who remember Boston University President John Silber's gubernatorial run in 1990 will recall that he too mentioned the necessary consideration of limiting Medicare funds at a given point. His metaphor of apples being ripe for picking did not go over well when Bill Weld, his opponent, responded with TV ads showing sprightly old people dancing and playing bingo and then being told that, at the state's request, they should drop dead ASAP to ease the fiscal crisis. Even though the idea had distant poetic ancestry in Wilfred Owen's Dulce et Decorum est pro patria mori, Silber's campaign fizzled soon thereafter. Still, Silber's message, though transformed somewhat, has survived.

That a particular group of Americans may be disproportionately affected by Clinton's plan raises the ire of many Americans. It's weirdly interesting to note that sacrifice, the "extreme measures" needed to rectify a fiscal problem, must be perceived as fair and equal treatment of all people. In Democracy in America, Tocqueville wrote that the Americans value their equality more than anything else; Americans would sooner be treated equally as slaves than they would tolerate any disparity in the way in which they are treated by their government.

I haven't quite figured this out. The government makes preferences all the time and yet no one wants to ever admit to it: affirmative action, sugar subisdies, and most-favored-nation trade status are all decisions made because they are believed to be in the interest or good of the country. Tough-talk doesn't necessarily mean giving up the results of these hard choices. Similarly, sacrifice shouldn't always mean equal treatment. It requires the bald-faced honesty to say to those who pollute or smoke or drink: Pay up. The free ride is over.