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What would Darwin do? And what's that got to do with today's politicians?

The right thing. And that's got a lot to do with today's politicians — because so many politicians don't.

As James Tabery's delightful op-ed recounts (Tribune, Feb. 9, 2012), Darwin had a problem: About to publish his revolutionizing theory of evolution by natural selection, he received a manuscript from another scientist, Alfred Russell Wallace, that independently proposed the same idea.

What Darwin realized — but so many of us don't — is that he couldn't justly decide how to resolve this dilemma on his own. Even if Darwin tried to "choose the right," he might undercompensate, or overcompensate. And in any event his decision would seem potentially biased and questionable to an outsider.

Darwin had what we now call a conflict of interest.

So Darwin did what has now become routine to do in science, but not in politics. He established the first conflict of interest committee. He had someone else decide.

Increasingly, politics isn't about raising the level of the city, or state or nation. It's about raising money.

As Upton Sinclair once remarked, "It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends upon his not understanding it."

Same for a woman.

When you're paid $225,000 to talk to a company — that's not a speaker's fee.

That's a bribe.

Politicians say that they can take money without its influencing their decisions. That's what Hillary Clinton claims about her speaker's fees. And that's what Gov. Gary Herbert claims about the fees he required from lobbyists for them to meet with him: "There's no quid pro quo at all" (Tribune, May 15). Science says they're wrong.

Science says they're a bunch of liars, crooks and thieves.

But don't get too self-righteous, dear reader. Science also says the same thing about you.

It's human nature.

That's the bad news.

The good news is that almost all of us actually cheat less than we should, if we dispassionately weighed ill-gotten gains against costs of punishment. Instead, we lie just enough that we can still convincingly lie to ourselves that… we aren't really lying.

As relayed in Dan Ariely's book "The (Honest) Truth about Dishonesty," a study by Ann Harvey and colleagues helped reveal the hidden costs of favors. Subjects in either of two groups each liked a set of paintings better if the paintings came from the subjects' financial sponsor. Brain scans showed their "pleasure" cortex liked them better, too. And the greater the financial sponsorship, the greater the favoritism.

Yet almost universally, subjects denied that they'd been biased.

Deny it though we will, the data are clear: Being given favors inclines us to return favors.

In a related anecdote, after doctors give a paid lecture on a drug, they apparently start prescribing that drug more. Their actions change to conform to their words. After all, they couldn't have been lying. Right?

So just imagine what giving an ingratiating speech and receiving nearly a quarter of a million dollars will do.

Clinton refuses to release the transcripts of her speeches to Goldman Sachs. Herbert didn't get the choice of hiding what he'd said. We hear the pay-to-play loud and clear.

But here's the thing. The problem isn't simply that requiring payment to access to the Guv is unethical. The problem is that the Guv himself is being bought, too. Even when he honestly thinks he isn't.

Herbert sold himself as "Available Jones." Next time, perhaps, he should consider a different role model: Charles Darwin.

Gregory A. Clark is an associate professor of bioengineering at the University of Utah.