When I was younger, I had very clear political ambitions. I wanted to climb the D.C. ladder.

That is, until I realized that some of my political convictions were strongly against the politically correct positions high-powered politicians were expected to have. In middle school I was writing my Senators condemning China over its Tibet policies. More recently, my digital history is strewn with strongly worded denouncements of powerful interests like the big content industries. All of this is not even touching on the realities of friendships played out online - jokes that may strike third parties as off-color or unprofessional.

The reality of having lived a strongly opinionated and Internet-heavy life is that I have a history of content which could easily be dug up by opposition staffers after a would-be appointment. Luckily for me, for the most part I don’t think my skeletons will ever be worthwhile to dig up. But plenty of my generation’s closets will be searched. What to make of the coming storm?

The Economist jumps into this fascinating question with a very smart article discussing the future of politics and reputation. Astutely noting, “who has a closet without a skeleton?,” the article uses Obama’s intensive vetting process as a harbinger of things to come.

But I don’t think that covering up people’s unsavory pasts is likely to be sustainable. Instead, I think we are moving towards a society of disclosure and acceptance - Obama never had to confront breaking news that he tried cocaine because he disclosed it well before he was a Presidential candidate. Not everyone can have best-selling books, though.

Instead, I think the next forty years will be a roller coaster where my generation’s past will sink many a rising star. Only the most adept will be able to avoid the career-stunting attention paid to their youthful indiscretion, but, in the end, we’ll (hopefully) have a society more accepting of the human, in failure and success. We’ll turn the media spotlight on ourselves and recognize that we’ve all done things we’re not proud of and that it doesn’t mean we are unqualified for public office.

The Economist reaches much the same conclusion. Although it seems that, “Only the very blandest, most media-savvy and controlled people, who have never uttered a controversial sentence in their lives, will be deemed fit to hold public office…” another possibility is that “Perhaps, when dirt on almost everybody becomes readily available, politics will lose its hypocritical, moralistic tone… That could make people realise that politicians, too, are only human, and make them more forgiving of minor transgressions.”

What do you think? Are we destined for blandness or acceptance?