On September 11, 1998, millions of Americans took a break from their daily newspaper to rush online and download the “Referral to the United States House of Representatives pursuant to Title 28, United States Code, § 595(c).” At several hundred pages, the Starr Report dwarfed the capacity of a print edition, plus everyone wanted to skip to the dirty stuff. Like a porn D.P. positioning his lens in the trickiest of hollows, Kenneth Starr, four years along in his role as independent counsel, was offering an unprecedented glimpse into a sitting president’s groin. “Many of the details reveal highly personal information; many are sexually explicit,” explained the report’s introduction, mournfully. “This is unfortunate, but it is essential.”

Even before his report dropped, Starr had made himself into a caricature, like the crusading priest who, in his quest to understand the vices of men, spends every night in a stripper joint. If pornography is defined as sexual content for the purpose of titillation alone, without any redeeming social value, then in the olden days Starr might have had to share a cell with Al Goldstein and Larry Flynt.

Reviewed today, 20 years later, the Starr Report is surprising in how much it reinforces the old cartoons. Bill Clinton, in full Bubba mode, is the richest of the cast—undignified, cunning, lustful, petulant. We see him struggling to break things off and explaining it to Monica Lewinsky: “Earlier in his marriage, he told her, he had had hundreds of affairs; but since turning 40, he had made a concerted effort to be faithful.” We see him dismissing allegations that he had groped White House volunteer Kathleen Willey: “The president responded that the harassment allegation was ludicrous, because he would never approach a small-breasted woman like Ms. Willey.” We see him seeking spiritual guidance from Dick Morris, fellow veteran of infidelity. “Mr. Morris suggested that he take a poll on the voters’ willingness to forgive confessed adultery,” notes the report. “The president agreed.”

All of it was terribly unfair and terribly entertaining. U.S. presidents are royalty, surrounded by pillars and flags, and only the most resolutely humorless among us could fail to be moved by the head of state engaging in self-abuse at the Oval Office sink. But of course our guffaws blotted out the fact that Clinton and Lewinsky endured an outrage. Lewinsky took years to regain some equilibrium. (She is now an outspoken anti-bullying advocate who was nominated for a 2018 Emmy and, as a Vanity Fair contributing editor, recently wrote a potent article reflecting on her experience in light of the #MeToo movement.) Clinton, for his part, underwent legal persecution that would never have befallen a defendant who wasn’t the target of a powerful cabal.

As investigations once again heat up in the current White House, many observers have been hit with a sense of déjà vu. One can of course spot many differences between then and now, and Donald Trump’s fiercest detractors are usually quick to point them out. Clinton didn’t openly attack the investigation, while Trump has had some complaints. Starr was an independent counsel, while Robert Mueller, who is probing into Russian collusion, is a special counsel and under greater White House control. Starr was from an opposition party, while Mueller is not. Starr’s office leaked a lot to the press, while Mueller’s office keeps its work quiet. But the broad outlines and mindsets are still mighty familiar. While it’s pretty rich of Republicans to object to Mueller’s digging, given how many of them once cheered on Starr, that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.