DO WE REALLY NEED TO HEAR ALL ABOUT IT?

It's hard to know what to make of Health Minister George Smitherman's
front-page revelations that he was once addicted to unspecified illegal drugs.

At one level, this is a so-what story. To the general public, what
Smitherman does now as health minister is considerably more important
than the fact that he once snorted coke -- or whatever it was he used
to ingest.

It would be more impressive if, for instance, the health minister put
his efforts toward solving the crisis in long-term care homes, which
are still desperately short of cash and staff.

Faithful readers will remember that the last time Smitherman made a
personal revelation, back in 2003, was in response to a Star series
on the problems of nursing homes.

At the time, a tearful Smitherman said nursing homes would be his top
priority. He said his mother faced the prospect of going into a
nursing home and that this was what moved him so much.

"I want to bring a sense of missionary zeal to the work we do in this
office," he said then, tears streaming down his face. "We will fix this."

Indeed, the government did increase regulation in nursing homes. But
it didn't give them enough new money to pay for the staff needed to
make these reforms work.

As a result, many long-term care residents -- particularly those who
are bedridden -- are now worse off than they were before.

Similarly, in this instance, it might be more useful if Smitherman
spent less time on his personal life and more on the current problem
of drug addiction in Ontario.

As the Star has reported, the Liberal government is busy closing
detox centres in Toronto to save money -- even as the minister waxes
eloquent about his misspent past.

Some would argue that Smitherman's decision to come clean might
inspire other drug users to kick the habit. That might well be true.

But at the same time, it is hard to escape the nagging suspicion that
politicians are using personal self-revelations to disguise their
actions, or lack thereof.

Former prime minister Paul Martin was a master at this. Every time he
prepared to cut spending for the unemployed or the poor or the sick,
he liked to talk publicly, in very personal terms, about how much he
valued these programs -- particularly those set up when his late
father was in government.

In 1994, as the then-finance minister prepared to make massive cuts
to social spending, the Star ran a front page story explaining that
the idea pained him so much he couldn't sleep.

"I can hear him tossing and turning and saying 'Oh God, I don't know
what I'm going to do,'" Martin's wife, Sheila, said during a joint interview.

But Martin still made the cuts.

There's nothing new about politicians trying to portray themselves as
human beings. From Teddy Roosevelt on, this has been a staple of
American politics. Canadians have been a little more restrained --
but not much.

When former prime minister Pierre Trudeau was in electoral trouble,
his handlers would produce his then wife, Margaret, to explain how
loving he was.

The only difference these days -- call it the Oprah effect -- is that
politicians are now talking more about matters that were once
considered, correctly, to be no one else's business.

The storyline that goes over particularly well is that of the
redeemed sinner -- the lost lamb who through perseverance, luck and
love finds his way again.

Some trying to tell this story have bombed (think of former U.S.
president Jimmy Carter's admission that he once committed adultery in
his heart).

Others, such as former wastrel George W. Bush, have used the Oprah
effect to great political advantage.

The complicit partners in all of this are the media, which revel in
stories that detail the foibles of celebrities, and the public, which
lap them up.

So perhaps it's unfair to criticize Smitherman too much. His
admissions can be viewed as an attempt to fill a seemingly insatiable demand.

Still, it's hard not to escape the feeling that enough is enough.
Perhaps it is time for politicians to keep the few remaining intimate
details of their existence safely stored away. I feel I already know
far too much about George Smitherman's private life. I hope not to
learn any more.