David Letterman drove a stake into the heart of the blackmail business last night. He not only
blew the whistle on a would-be extorter, choosing instead to confess his dalliances with staffers on national television,
he made fun of the guy.
He told the story brilliantly, keeping the audience laughing as it slowly dawned on them that this was not a joke. Or that it actually
was a joke, but the joke was on the extortionist. “Hinky” is the word Letterman used, a couple of times, to describe the scheme, and the perpetrator. Perfect putdown.
He did, indeed, have sex with some women who worked on the show, he said evenly, neutrally, allowing as how having that information go public could be embarrassing—especially for the women, he added chivalrously. “But what you don’t want is some guy saying”—and here he put on a squirrelly voice—“‘I know you had sex with women so give me $2 million or I'm going to make trouble.'"
No tail between the legs for Dave: He ridiculed his accuser and kept firm control of the moral high ground. The audience ate it up.
OK, it’s gotta be easier for a late-night comic to come clean about an affair (or affairs) than for, say, a Republican senator who’s built a political career on traditional family values. Letterman didn’t even bother to
get married until he had been with his paramour 20 years and they had a kid together. His job is to get laughs, not run the country.
But still, the fact is, it’s getting tougher and tougher to get away with blackmail, because it’s getting easier and easier to confess, and get away with it.
Look at John Ensign, cheerfully running for reelection after going public with an affair to preempt what he said were blackmail efforts by the woman, a former staffer, and her husband, who apparently weren’t satisfied with the $96,000 his family had already paid them. Investigators later said they couldn’t actually find any evidence of an extortion plot, suggesting that Ensign may have used the claim to add a touch of nobility to his decision to confess. Yes, I’ve strayed, but by coming forward I can blow the whistle on something actually nefarious.
Think of how much better Gov. Mark Sanford would have fared if he’d been blackmailed by—rather than lovesick for—his Argentine mistress. His continuing political troubles stem mostly from his loopy press conferences, mortifying emails, and claims that God didn't want him to resign, not his infidelity.
In an era in which practically everyone from presidents to talk show hosts has confessed to addiction, or adultery, or both, people who haven’t embraced their inner sinner can seem pale and inhuman. Too perfect.
Letterman joked last night that his first response on seeing the blackmailer’s letter was to imagine all the truly terrible, terrible things he had ever done—“I am just a towering mass of Lutheran Midwestern guilt,” he said. It was the perfect setup to the ultimate putdown: Guess you miscalculated, buddy. Not only am I not going to pay up, I'm not even going to apologize.
Caroline Miller is the editor in chief of Newser. She can be reached at cmiller@newser.com.
