Sensational political scandals, for all their variety, have long enjoyed a certain predictability. The first period in the life of a scandal is marked by intense media hyperactivity. Any scrap of information, any grainy photograph and any marginal character with the slightest connection to the scandal suddenly become newsworthy and important.

But this buoyant period in the life of a scandal is short-lived. It is inevitably followed by a second period in which journalists debate whether the first period was needlessly excessive. Commentators on television round-tables ponder whether or not there was a "rush to judgement." Between advertisements for cat food and diarrhea medications, the assembled high priests of the journalism profession solemnly lament their dismal performance and vow to be more circumspect the next time they haul somebody's sex life into public view.

The Monica Lewinsky sex scandal has now clearly entered this second phase--the phase of media self-flagellation. There is always something strangely perverse about journalists filling newspapers, magazines and air time with comments about how the media is being diverted from more important concerns. A discussion about the insignificance of a story, it would seem, is even more insignificant than the insignificant story itself.

There are many cases in which the media has been guilty of egregious failures of perspective. The grotesque frenzies surrounding the O.J. Simpson trial, the nanny trial or the birth of septuplets in Iowa seem entirely out of proportion to their actual significance. I believe there is a special circle in hell reserved for any television network that ever opened a broadcast with a story about Tonya Harding. And I detest local news stations that never once offer a decent, thoughtful story about education, but are always on the scene the moment someone falls down a manhole or gets an ear bitten off by a dog.

But the Monica Lewinsky story is not one of these trivial cases. The President is suspected of having sexual relations with a young staff member in his private office in the West Wing of the White House. He is suspected of committing perjury or persuading others to commit perjury, and of obstructing justice. We do not know if these charges are true (and I sincerely hope they are not), but they are extremely serious--the most serious charges laid against a President since Watergate. They raise the specter of a President grossly abusing his power and incapable of controlling his most basic urges.

My classmate John W. Turner '97 has expressed the issue as succinctly as anyone. His point is simple. A man who cannot govern himself should not govern a nation. A man who cannot distinguish between right and wrong should not be leading America.

On his first night in the White House in 1800, John Adams wrote to his wife Abigail, "May none but honest and wise men rule under this roof." Adams notably did not include an exception for dishonest, reckless behavior in the President's private life. The media's interest in this story is entirely appropriate given the seriousness of the charges and the potential consequences for the presidency and the nation.

The problem in this case has not been the amount of attention given to the scandal. The problem is a lack of hard information and a climate of uninformed speculation. My own involvement in this story is testimony to what few sources the media really has to help them determine the relevant facts. Monica Lewinsky worked a few cubicles away from me in the basement of the Old Executive Office Building when we were both White House interns in the summer of 1995. For a month, we lived in the same apartment building, and on a couple of occasions she gave me a ride to work. She was at most a casual acquaintance and I had not seen or thought of her in the two and half years since I left the White House.

I learned of the story on the morning of Jan. 22, while visiting friends in Cambridge. Approximately five hours later, a producer from NBC tracked me down at the apartment where I was staying.

From that moment on, I was bombarded with requests for interviews and television appearances. This was completely unexpected, as my value as a source was negligible. I patiently explained that I did not know Lewinsky well, that I would not comment on her character or on her truthfulness, that I was only at the White House for two months and that I knew nothing of any alleged affair. Nevertheless, many organizations still wished to interview me.

It was a difficult decision, but I chose to speak to some members of the media, when approached, for the simple reason that the White House intern program was not being accurately or positively portrayed. The media coverage suggested, among other things, that we were incompetent drones, that our positions were sinecures secured through political connections and monetary contributions and that we had regular access to the President in the Oval Office. None of this was true and it needed to be set straight.

I regret only one choice--my decision to appear on the Montel Williams Show. I had never seen the show and was seriously misled by the producers about the nature of the show and my role on it. I was told I would be on the show to discuss the impact of the scandal from the perspective of a younger American. Instead, I was asked such questions as, "Did you ever see Monica grab the President's butt?"

That some members of the media will be needlessly lewd is perhaps an inevitable component of any scandal, but that does not mean we should criticize the mainstream media for energetically investigating this story. They are doing their job, and for the most part doing it well. Their coverage will be more valuable when tangential people such as me are replaced with sources who can provide a much clearer sense of what really happened.

I pray that this happens quickly, and that we will be able to put this story behind us. In the meantime, we must endure a period of uncertainty as the media tries to help the American people confront a crucial and fundamental issue--whether our President is an honest and wise man. I can think of few questions that are more worth asking.

Carlton F. W. Larson '97 is a first-year at Yale Law School.