Amitai Etzioni teaches at The George Washington University and is the author of The Moral Dimension: Toward a New Economics (New York: The Free Press, 1988).

Recent criticisms of Vice President Gore's character remind me of charges leveled against Tony Blair during his 1997 election campaign. When I arrived in London from Clinton's Washington and asked how Blair conducted himself, the standard response was "He is a good husband, father, and Christian." My colleagues then went on to discuss the public policies Blair was advocating; enough said about character. Some, though, allowed that Blair did have a personal flaw: he frowned when off-color jokes were exchanged on his campaign bus. To them, Blair was too straight-laced, too Victorian.

After the first presidential debate much was made about the fact that Gore sighed too much, rolled his eyes, and even smirked once or maybe twice. This in turn was reported by the Los Angeles Times as "dangerous ground." Psychologists were quoted as stating that "sighing in general is a signal of unexpressed feelings, most commonly exasperation. Or could also be a sign of anger. Or depression. Or anxiety." The implication: who would want a president with so many possible hang-ups?

One could take a rather lighter view of the sighing. The format of the first debate did not allow for a direct response to charges and misstatements by the other side. Thus when Governor Bush repeatedly stated that Gore engaged in "fuzzy math" but provided no figures or any other evidence to back this up, one may suggest that at least a moderate sigh was very much called for.

Next, we learned that Gore embellishes. He did not travel to Texas with the head of FEMA, but with the deputy. He did not launch the Internet; he merely played a significant role in fashioning the conditions that made it take off. The movie Love Story was not based only on him and Tipper but also on one other couple. Such unfortunate exaggerations led a Denver Post writer to accuse Gore of "a compulsion to prevaricate." Rush Limbaugh found Gore's lying to be "pathological." William Bennett concluded that these embellishments make Gore into a "habitual liar" who should be "disqualified from being president."

I do not like bragging any more than the next guy. And I grant that it reflects a degree of insecurity. But is this a serious flaw? More important, are we really seeking to elect a perfect person, without any human frailties? It is not accidental that all of our presidents and candidates have been found to have some imperfections (to put it mildly) from Kennedy's obsessive adultery to Ford's stumbling, from Reagan's less than perfect treatment of his children to McCain's temperament. Carter was faulted for lusting in his heart (or for admitting to it).

In the second debate Gore's character was faulted for over-correcting his previous assertiveness (such as it was). Granted Gore's tendency to re-spin himself (or worse, allow himself to let others do so) is troubling. I wish he had said, "a president must stand up to rogue nations, to terrorist blackmail, to international oil cartels; believe me, if elected I'll do much more than sigh. The presidency is not a coffee klatsch." And reacting to Bush he might have stuck to his guns and shot back: "If I encounter opponents who endanger what I consider our covenant with our senior citizens, who ignore those without any health insurance, (etc.)--I will fight them like there was no tomorrow." But what is the man to do? Much evidence shows that the electorate turns not on issues but on personalities; not on what he stands for but how he stands. And if Gore had made my favored little Churchillian speech, people would have rushed to complain that he was too aggressive.

True, the chattering class, at the moment, is focused on Gore's frailties, but they have in the past and are sure in the future to return to do the same to Bush. Bush certainly has his own imperfections (even in the math department). There are many reasons to vote against Gore, or Bush, or even both, but not on the grounds that they are imperfect--or we may as well call the whole thing off.