ISN'T IT A BIT LATE TO WORRY ABOUT NOELLE'S PRIVACY?

For starters, let's agree that few things are more heartbreaking for a
parent than having a child run afoul of the law.

Most of us can only imagine what anguish Jeb and Columba Bush must be
enduring in watching daughter Noelle struggle to come to grips with her
drug dependency.

Regardless of your feelings about the governor's politics, his stewardship
of the state, how can you not empathize with his family crisis and pray for
his daughter to overcome her difficulties? This 25- year-old woman needs
professional treatment.

But she does not need, nor does she deserve, special treatment.

Since January, Noelle Bush has been in a court-ordered rehabilitation
program after her arrest for attempting to obtain antianxiety drugs from a
pharmacy with a fraudulent prescription.

To avoid a criminal trial, Bush chose to seek treatment through a state
drug court - a program available to any Floridian. No problem there.

But her attorney is pushing to have all further proceedings in the case
closed to the public, arguing his client has a right to privacy while under
the drug court judge's supervision.

If Circuit Judge Reginald Whitehead agrees to the request, the move would
be unprecedented in Florida - not to mention ripe with suggestions of undue
favoritism.

Court proceedings rarely are closed to the public and generally only in
cases involving national security or the identity of an informant in a
continuing criminal investigation.

Simply being a member of a prominent political family who has gotten
herself into an embarrassing predicament hardly rises to the level of
undermining the public's right to access to the courts.

Nice Try

Peter Antonacci, Noelle Bush's mouthpiece, argued his client's case should
be closed because the drug court must rely on candid communication between
the judge and the defendant.

Nice try, counselor. Antonacci conveniently overlooks the fact that when
Noelle Bush appears before a judge, she does so under oath and would risk
charges of perjury if she were less than honest with the court - whether in
public or private.

Yes, there is no argument the attention focused on Noelle Bush and her
family must be a humiliating experience.

But in relative terms, is being arrested for a crime any less humiliating
for a lesser-known defendant who still must face family, friends, neighbors
and co-workers in shame?

The sad, poignant fact is that Noelle Bush committed a crime.

As the granddaughter of a former president, the niece of a sitting
commander-in-chief and the daughter of a governor, this is a young woman
whose entire life has been steeped in a rich and admired family tradition.

Fairly or not, there are responsibilities, as well as perks, that come with
that sort of bloodline. And certainly there is the understanding that one's
public and private behavior are more open to scrutiny.

Young Ms. Bush is an adult who, despite her demons, knew she was committing
a crime when she attempted to pass off a phony prescription. She forfeited
her right to privacy when she decided to break the law. And now she is
facing the legal consequences for her conduct - just like everybody else.

Public Shame

To a certain extent, Bush already caught a break after another patient at
the Orlando treatment center where she is living reported to police that
the governor's daughter had been caught with crack cocaine.

A potentially serious issue that could have resulted in jail time withered
away when the facility's staff refused to cooperate with law enforcement
investigating the matter.

Darryl Strawberry probably would have appreciated that sort of reticence on
the part of the workers at his rehab center. The former baseball star had
his own case adjudicated in drug court, where all manner of highly
embarrassing details about his behavior were aired publicly.

It's probably a remnant of our Puritan heritage that public shame for
crimes is as much a part of the punishment as fines or jail time. Obviously
the higher the profile, the greater the stigma.

There is no delight in Noelle Bush's tragedy or the grief visited upon her
family. But maybe this is a case that reminds us if you can't stand the
sunlight's shine, don't do the crime.