New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer's alleged patronizing of a high-priced sex worker in a prostitution ring leaves legions of seen-it-all New Yorkers mystified: How could the impassioned fighter of crime and corruption, the righteous good guy who earned the nickname "Mr. Clean" as New York's attorney general, do something so unlawful and unseemly?

Why risk throwing away a stellar career, reputation and family life for, at most, a few hours in the sack with a fantasy woman?

There's only one explanation: Power is a potent aphrodisiac. The sense of entitlement and inviolability that seem to come with being the one calling the shots can outweigh even a really smart person's sense of judgment.

And though that can happen in many ways — vice, dirty politics, financial improprieties — there's probably no more visceral illustration of how power corrupts than in the sexual scandals of politicians.

The "Today Show" ran a compilation of video clips of politicians caught up in sex scandals over the years. Besides the fact that all were men, they were all different — Republican and Democrat, older and younger, and from different parts of the country. But what Spitzer has in common with Bill Clinton, Colorado's Gary Hart, New Jersey's Jim McGreevy or Idaho's Larry Craig and a host of other people caught up in sex scandals is the underlying belief that they were: a) entitled to do what they did and b) could lie, sneak or otherwise cover it up.

The sexual betrayal of a partner is bad enough; patronizing a prostitute takes the infraction to a lawbreaking level. But for the public, the most egregious offense is when the wrongdoing causes you to forfeit the bottom-line principles for which people believed in you, whether those are about morality, accountability, justice or anything else.

For Spitzer, those principles were an uncompromising demand that people uphold the law and his pledge to rout out corruption. But he's only the latest prominent person to have to answer for a profound disconnect between words and actions.

The illegality of Craig's bathroom act is questionable, but his hypocrisy isn't. The Idaho senator, a chief defender of heterosexual privilege, was busted for soliciting another man in a public bathroom.

For former Education Secretary William Bennett, the double standard was over moral virtues. He literally wrote the book on that subject before he was revealed to be a high-stakes gambler.

Rush Limbaugh crusaded against drug abusers, then turned out to be addicted to prescription painkillers oxycodone and hydrocodone. Charges of "doctor shopping" against him were dropped after he agreed to pay $30,000 and get treatment.

The public can forgive many things. We're all human, after all. But the public trust isn't a blank check, and there's little tolerance for blatant hypocrisy by those who hold themselves up as virtuous.

When a sense of entitlement and invulnerability make people believe the principles they preach don't apply to them, then they've lost the main thing we ask of leaders: credibility.

There is a link to the presidential campaign. Some of the tactics being employed by Hillary Clinton's campaign make you wonder what, if any, principles it would not sacrifice for the sake of winning. Both Clintons have rightly denounced Karl Rovian strategies but then have engaged in fear mongering, whispered race- and religion-baiting, distortions and depictions of Barack Obama as less fit for the presidency than even Republican John McCain. Those actions suggest Clinton would rather hand the election to the GOP, which has stood for nearly everything she purportedly opposes, than lose the nomination.

Clinton has framed herself as the insider, experienced candidate, but insider status, as we keep seeing, can make you arrogant and willing to violate your most sacred values.

Spitzer's political future looks dim. If integrity isn't part of the process, the end result isn't worth a damn.

Rekha Basu is a columnist for the Des Moines Register and can be reached at rbasu@dmreg.com.