Something I didn't Know about Sully(And a Mild Rant about the Evils of Publicity)

You remember Captain Chesley Sullenberger, the captain of the Hudson River Dinner Cruise--aka, the pilot who made himself a hero by safely ditching his commercial airliner in the Hudson River. He's back, doing a book tour, and here's something I didn't know: he's a union man:

In keeping with his willingness to question authority, he's also been an outspoken union advocate. "One of the benefits of a union is that it levels the playing field. No one person can stand up to management. It's only through the union that collectively we can have a voice and express grievances that will reach management."

I express surprise at the strength of this assertion, in a time when unions are regularly dissed. Sully's ideal is "a culture at work where employees are valued as partners. There is a cost to every company when you don't have these cooperative relationships."

That's Leah Garchick in the San Francisco Chronicle, and it sounds like he wouldn't have said so if nobody asked. Specifically, as far as I know, you do not see him making speeches, doing soundbytes, or otherwise capitalizing on his celebrity status to inject himself into the political affray. All of which points to one of more remarkable non-events of the current celebrity season, and that is: can you remember anyone who did less to capitalize on his notoriety than Sully? Put another way: can you just imagine the armies of lawyers, press agent, spin doctors, Fox New producers and whatnot ready to turn him into the next Joe the Plumber?

It might even be possible to generalize the point: we all owe a debt to the to those who don't let their head get turned by that kind of instant notoriety, and who, instead, just go on about their business. Another good, albeit not quite so dramatic, example would be the cop who busted Henry Louis Gates in his in own home. His name was--ah, got you there, didn't I? you had forgotten that his name was James Crowley. You may think the arrest was a terrible idea, although Crowley refused to apologize. But stop and consider the possibilities. With just the least little of media-whoring, Crowley could have had his own talk show by now, and have set himself up as a permanent fixture in our public life.

Another, although I admit this is a closer case, would be Gen. David Petraeus, the guy W hid behind during W's entire last year in office. Petraeus too surely saw the blandishments of riches, fame, power and the love of beautiful women. Of course as a general, Petraeus was supposed to shut up, which puts him in a somewhat different category from Sully, who had no such obligation. The interesting thing about Petraeus is that he never seemed to chafe under the constraints (a dustup with MoveOn.org appears ratheer more to have enhanced his reputation than otherwise). You got the sense he could live with a system that kept him in his job and mostly out of the public eye.

Who knows, it isn't over yet, and we met see Sully or Petraeus or whats-his-name in the political stew someday (though heaven knows why any one of them would want to). But even if they do take the plunge, I think we'll have to give them points for behaving, even if just for a little while. Hey, in the current environment, you take what you can get.

Footnote: two more things about Sully--he was president of the high school Latin club, and he played the flute.