I am way too deep in the weeds of my book to offer further extended thoughts on what we can now fairly call the Rove-Plame affair.

Fortunately, other people are saying what I would, and probably better than I could.

First, Frank Rich elucidates the essential fact that the affair is not inside-Beltway baseball at all, but the tip of an iceberg, and that iceberg is how a war was sold to the American people on false pretenses. If we had a stronger opposition in Congress we’d be having a real national debate; because we can’t, the opposition is leaking out around this sideshow-style prosecution.

Then, Jay Rosen digs deeper into the Bush administration’s war on the media.

The president and his advisors have declared invalid the “fourth estate” and watchdog press model… “Executive freedom on the terrain of fact itself” is my way of describing what the Downing Street Memo said: “facts were being fixed around the policy.” … Limits on what liberties could be taken with the factual record — without triggering a political penalty — are being overcome. Joseph Wilson interfered with this project, forcing the White House to pay a penalty: the so-called sixteen words in the State of the Union speech that had to be withdrawn after his op-ed. So he had to pay. And that’s how roll back, freedom over fact, culture war, and the naming of Valerie Plame connect to one another.

I am glad to see Jay exploring more fully and deeply the notion I wrote about back during the Eason Jordan controversy, reaching back to Ron Suskind’s observations on the Bush team’s calculated campaign to undermine the possibility of being challenged by the media on the facts. In this White House’s Wonderland, words mean anything the occupants wish them to mean, and facts can be changed as circumstances require.

Jay concludes with an Iran-Contra flashback:

A final thought: “A few months ago I told the American people I did not trade arms for hostages,” said Ronald Reagan on March 4, 1987. “My heart and my best intentions still tell me that’s true, but the facts and the evidence tell me it is not.” I wonder what caused him to say that, because whatever it was seems to be much weaker today.

It seems to me that what caused Reagan to say that was not any particular flash of conscience, but the determined, relentless effort of a team of prosecutors and congressional investigators to dig up the truth, forcing the Republican administration into a corner from which Reagan had no choice but to make a confession in an effort to defuse a crisis that was otherwise headed down the road to impeachment. In those days, we still had an independent counsel statute, and we had two-party government, in that Democrats had a power-base in Congress. Today, there’s a prosecutor, but he’s out there pretty much on his own, and I don’t have any great confidence that his efforts will bring the Bush White House back to its factual senses. This crowd is so far out in fantasyland these days it’s impossible to dream of what might restore them to sobriety.

In comments below, Scott Butki asked, “Does it seem odd – or hypocritical to you – that the mantra at news organizations in recent weeks has switched from ‘anonymous sources are bad to use’ to ‘Deep Throat was good for doing what he did and Woodstein good to use him,’ ignoring the contradiction between the two?”

Good question, and I’m sure one that many people are scratching their heads over. What’s going on here? Are anonymous sources really the big problem they seem to be in the wake of the Dan Rather and Newsweek/Koran controversies? On the other hand, if news organizations get too gun-shy about anonymous sources, how will anyone ever be able to keep reporting on the buttoned-tight Bush White House?

It’s funny to watch people try to get their heads around the apparent contradictions between “anonymous sources — good!” and “anonymous sources — bad!” Really, they’re only contradictions if you treat the issue as a matter of journalistic technique (the use of unnamed sources) rather than one about the end to which the technique is employed. The distinction that really matters isn’t between “anonymous source” and “named source”; it’s between “good source” and “bad source.” Good sources can be anonymous; bad sources can be on-the-record. What experienced journalists and editors do is assess, assess, assess. Make sure you’re not being used. Double-check your info. Use your sense of smell. The theory is that an on-the-record statement is more reliable than an anonymous statement, since the person quoted has to defend his words in public. That’s a good theory, and it often applies. But it doesn’t seem to stop most public officials from mouthing the most absurd lies, damned lies and statistics on the record. And despite the rule-of-thumb that on-the-record is more reliable, there are some circumstances where unnamed sourcing is the only way to get the truth out.

One reason people are getting confused is that Woodward and Bernstein’s use of Deep Throat was a fundamentally different kind of anonymous sourcing than we typically see in today’s Beltway. Mark Felt/Deep Throat fed information to Bob Woodward because (a) there were profound dangers to the nation in play — we had a president who was, among many other outrages, ordering his political opponents burglarized — and (b) going to the press was the only option, because the idea of “going to the authorities” is laughable when the authorities are the wrongdoers and they’ve corrupted the system from the top.

I’m not belittling the complexity of Felt’s choice; and obviously the man was conflicted for the rest of his life. It’s never easy to be a whistleblower, and if you’re an unconventional whistleblower stuck in a duel with All the President’s Men, you’ve got to be careful as well as right. Felt is certainly no pure hero, but the derision he’s received from the surviving coterie of Nixon loyalists is beneath contempt. This old guard of die-hard Nixonians still haven’t gotten it through their heads that their former boss actually stole an election (if it weren’t for all the dirty tricks employed against Democrats in 1972, who knows where the vote would have gone?) and, left unchecked, might well have destroyed the American system of government. Their complaints against Felt today only demonstrate how lucky we were that there was at least one “disloyal” Deep Throat willing to say, this nonsense stops here.

Today’s anonymous sources are, for the most part, different. They’re not risking anything by speaking up. Generally, they are choosing to be anonymous to avoid taking a risk. They want to float a trial balloon but don’t want their name attached. They want to undermine a political rival. They want to state something a little politically inconvenient without leaving it on the record.

Anonymous sourcing evolved in the years since Watergate from an extraordinary tactic for an extraordinary time into a depressingly routine way of doing business for the political elite. The Bush administration itself has been extravagantly dependent on the opaque cloak of anonymity — the “highly placed White House official” who assures us that the war is going better, or the economy’s on the mend. This is the sort of anonymous sourcing that ombudsmen and editorial editors and journalism pundits are right to say should be banned. There’s no need for it.

As for the Watergate tradition of anonymous sourcing: every time there’s a president who’s illegally abusing power, let’s hope there’s a Deep Throat ready to talk, a Woodward ready to take notes, and a Ben Bradlee ready to run the stories. Oh, yeah — it also helps if the opposition party controls at least one house of Congress. Otherwise, you could catch the President himself robbing a hotel room — or starting a war under false pretenses — and it wouldn’t matter.

Poor David Brooks — the guy’s timing is simply awful. Here he is, offering a column — “Meet the Poor Republicans” — that tries to explain why a particular contingent of not-so-well-off voters has lately been voting for the GOP. His answer? Unlike the poor folks who vote for the Democrats, these poor people “agree with Horatio Alger”: they believe that they’ve got a reasonable shot at moving up the ladder, living the American dream, making a fortune and leaving that word “poor” behind. Poor Democrats, on the other hand, tend to be people who think that the cards are stacked against them.

Unfortunately for Brooks, his column ran on the very same day that the Times kicked off a mega-series on “Class in America” — the central premise of which is that there’s a lot less class mobility in America than people believe. (Lest you conservatives fear that this is simply a plot by that filthy liberal Times rag to fill our heads with lies, the Wall Street Journal ran a front-page story last week reporting pretty much exactly the same thing.)

This juxtaposition of material couldn’t possibly have been intended by the Times’ news editors to make Brooks look like a condescending idiot or a closet Democrat, but that’s the result. Because there’s no way to put these two articles together without concluding that those poor people out there who vote Republican because they think they have a chance to get ahead, those people whose praises Brooks are singing, are, sadly, chumps. They have been sold a bridge. They believe in something that, like creationism or Saddam Hussein’s WMD arsenal, is contra-factual. On the other hand, those poor Democrats, however unfashionably glum and not-with-the-morning-in-America program they may be, seem to have a clearer picture of the state of the union.

One could go further and begin to lay out how the policies of the Bush-era GOP, supported by Brooks’ “poor Republicans,” are only further locking in the sort of class immobility the Times (and Journal) articles note. But let’s not kick Brooks while his own paper has tripped him sprawling, face-down, on the political floor.