Can we believe media reports of the scandal swirling around actor-director Mel Gibson? That he was arrested for drunken driving, spewed angry racist remarks and received preferential treatment? Should we care whether or not American Idols Simon Cowell has a girl in every port? Does it really matter to us if new parents Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie refrained from physical intimacy or indulged in it while Brad was still married to someone else?

Consumer fascination, media dissection, factual distortion, and emotional intensity surround many of America's celebrities who pass as heroes in todays cult of personality. Perhaps the proliferation of fallen heroes is a direct result of whom we choose to worship as such. Who could possibly live up to the standards we set? Whether they're acting, singing, dancing, shooting hoops, making touchdowns, flying to the moon, performing double axels on the ice, serving in political office, writing best sellers, heading a corporation, wrestling opponents into a stranglehold, promoting peace, or waging war, America has an obsession with modern heroes.

Our obsessive interest, however, doesn't produce a concise definition. Traditional heroes who suffer and sacrifice for a higher purpose are pass. Today we admire beauty, talent, power, success, and wealth. Although we respect heroes' humanity, we despise human weakness. We love them for being better than the rest of us. And we hate them for the same reason. Modern heroes -- usually sports stars, entertainers, or politicians -- often are overexposed and overcompensated, that is, until a bigger, brighter celebrity replaces them at the top of the heap.

It's understandable that some people consider the actions of a star athlete heroic. Watching the strongest, toughest, and most talented player claim victory before a cheering crowd is an exciting, uplifting event. However, the traits that comprise a great athlete don't necessarily make a great person. In fact, star athletes typically possess a single-minded, self-centered ambition that propels them into a singular spotlight.

The excessive compensation and privilege that coincide with movie and athletic stardom turn some heroes into less-than-heroic figures. Public adoration often leads to a sense of self-entitlement and a feeling of being above the law. A few examples include scandals involving former heavyweight champion Mike Tyson, Los Angeles Dodgers outfielder Darryl Strawberry, and figure skater Tonya Harding.

And what of entertainers? In this world of mate-swapping, breast-enhancing, lip-enlarging excess can true heroism exist? The problem results when fans confuse celebrities with heroes. Whereas true heroes, such as members of our Armed Forces, may attempt brave acts or even die for their people or their cause, celebrities more often die from self-destructive practices like drug overdoses, alcohol abuse, or suicide. A couple of exceptions are Harrison Ford and Tom Cruise who made national news by taking their bravery off-screen and taking physical risks to help other people. Christopher and Dana Reeve were considered heroes because while bravely fighting their own injuries and illnesses, they paved the way for others to receive treatment.

Although we occasionally may enjoy reading about celebrities proud off-screen moments, its those humiliating moments that sell the tabloids. By watching their shows, buying tickets to their films and concerts, and purchasing their products, we make these people stars, but then their fame makes us feel insignificant. Their falls from grace give us back our power.

Some of us even get a vicarious thrill from watching our demi-gods engulfed by scandal. All of America seemed to relish in the once holier-than-thou Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker's exile from TV ministry. Nearly everyone followed the news intently when Peewee Herman, Michael Jackson, and O.J. Simpson had their reputations tarnished and their private lives made public by scandal.

This same guilty pleasure also is derived by many who watch celebrity marriages fall apart. If beautiful women like Christie Brinkley, Nicole Kidman, and Jennifer Aniston cant hold onto their men, how can the average woman expect to keep her marriage intact?

Maybe Hollywood churns out the scandals because the rest of the world craves it. Assuming the old supply and demand theory is true, it's easy to see why the trash TV shows and supermarket tabloids are multiplying dramatically. And with each addition to the tabloid lineup, another layer of privacy is stripped from our once-respected public figures.

Although in the past, most artists and their work reflected the society in which they lived, today's celebrities, stars, role models (i.e. heroes) seem to draw attention by moving away from the crowd, rather than rising above it. They have their babies in foreign countries, flee to other lands following a scandal, or, like Madonna and Johnny Depp, adopt the country of their partners.

Whereas ordinary people -- without significant athletic or performance talent -- once had difficulty establishing themselves as heroes, today's information explosion and cultural diversity bombard us with constant images from varying points of view. One fan's Madonna is another fan's Mother Teresa. One person's Nelly is another person's Nelson Mandela. Diversification is part of modern American culture and therefore, must factor into our choice of heroes.

Each day as the scandal unfolds, Mel Gibson is looking less like a hero and more like a celebrity -- a talented actor-director who needs alcohol rehabilitation, anger management, and sensitivity training.

Copyright 2006 Leslie Halpern