The ongoing investigation by the United States attorney for the Southern District in New York may, I suppose, yet prove me wrong, but for my part the assumption that Clinton exchanged pardons for financial payments always seemed a bit ludicrous; and certainly what evidence existed provided little justification for the media circus that surrounded the issue.

Let’s start with the suggestion that Clinton pardoned Rich and others in return for campaign contributions to the Democratic Party and to his wife. Why would he do that? Don’t forget that Bill Clinton was a popular sitting president. Guys like that don’t need to bribe fat cats to collect campaign money — the fat cats are all too eager to throw money at them without any specific deal.

Do many of these contributors hope to get goodies in return? You bet they do, which is, of course, part of the inherent corruption of our cash-laden political process — and part of the reason why we should have been spending more of our time in recent months talking about serious campaign finance reform instead of reenacting the old battles of a now defunct administration. But a campaign contributor’s hope of receiving future favors does not a bribe make; to establish an illegal bride in this context would require proof that Clinton specifically promised to pardon Rich or others as a quid pro quo for a contribution.

The suggestion that Clinton may have pardoned Rich in exchange for some direct under-the-table payment of cash into his pocket, or to help fund his presidential library, strikes me as even less likely. This was a man who, after all, was getting ready to climb on board one of the great cash-generating engines of our time: the ex-presidents’ money express. Clinton had no need to do anything as untidy, not to mention dangerous, as taking a bribe to make money.

Whether or not one agrees with this analysis, surely these were legitimate questions that the media should have seriously considered before publicly branding Clinton guilty. True, the Rich pardon had a foul smell to it and there is little doubt that it was both bad policy and bad politics. The same may be true of some of the other Clinton pardons, as well as of some of the pardons issued by his predecessors. But committing a political blunder or even an act of bad statesmanship is hardly a crime.

It is tempting to bring up the presumption of innocence at this point, but the pundits have a ready response to that: That presumption, they will insist, applies only in criminal prosecutions, not in the “courtroom of public opinion.” OK, I’ll give them that one, but let me propose an alternative presumption, one which should apply even to television talking heads: a presumption favoring fairness.

Was it fair for the media to accuse Clinton of one felony after another based upon nothing more than frenzied speculation and unproven accusations? Or how about a presumption that people should learn from past mistakes? How many times did members of the press have to get burned by unfounded claims of Clinton criminality before they learned to do what every school child is taught to do before crossing the street? Stop, look and listen, and only then move forward.

Have the pundits and the rest of the media now learned this lesson? Based on past experience, I seriously doubt it. And that’s a damn shame, because if they had we might be closer to the day when prevailing journalistic ethics more closely follow the example of Edward R. Murrow than the National Enquirer.

Steven C. Day is an attorney practicing in Wichita, Kan.