When the McCain campaign released the bad news it had accumulated in its post-haste vetting of Sarah Palin, it did so all at once, during the holiday weekend at the end of last month. They chose this strategy, as one key campaign adviser promised a New York Times reporter, "to flush the toilet."

And what a toilet it is. Just to pick one of the examples that actually relates to the issue of Palin's mode of governance – the ostensible reason she was chosen to be a heartbeat away from the presidency by a man with a 72-year-old ticker – is to enter a political and ethical looking-glass that makes Whitewater-era Arkansas appear to be a mirage of high-minded, almost Platonic public service. But while Whitewater obsessed Washington's journalists for almost a decade and led ultimately to the impeachment of an enormously popular president, 2008's version of Troopergate has failed to inspire much in the way of outrage or even media interest.

Despite any number of attempts to obscure them, the facts of the matter, while complicated, are also clear. Last July, Palin demanded of Alaska's public safety commissioner, Walt Monegan - whom she had appointed to the job - that he fire her ex-brother-in-law, Mike Wooten, from his post as a state trooper. (Wooten was, at the time, in divorce proceedings with the governor's sister.) A formal investigation of Wooten was undertaken, with the result that he was briefly suspended from his job - a punishment that did little to satisfy Palin. At one point Monegan felt forced to warn the governor's husband Todd Palin: "You can't head-hunt like this. What you need to do is back off, because if the trooper does make a mistake, and it is a terminable offense, it can look like political interference."

Unable to get what she wanted, Sarah Palin fired Monegan, without offering much in the way of a cause or an explanation. Monegan soon fought back with his story of public pressure over a private matter. The apparent capriciousness of Palin's action led to an investigation by a bipartisan panel in Alaska's legislature. At that point, Palin complained that Monegan had not been a "team player on budgeting issues," and created her own investigation inside the Alaska attorney-general's office.

This backfired, however, when the attorney-general's office found that Palin's record was at odds with her public statements. In fact, members of her staff had sought Wooten's firing and - according to a recent report in the Washington Post - both Palin and her husband personally participated in the campaign to oust him.

The Palins' new tactic appears to be to try to shut down any investigation by virtue of non-cooperation. Key witnesses have ignored subpoenas, including the Palins themselves. They have attacked Monegan both personally and politically. As the Anchorage Daily News complained: "Palin and McCain are trying to ignite a partisan firestorm that wipes out the Troopergate investigation until after the [presidential] election."

This may not be possible, as the Alaska legislature is planning to issue its report – as originally promised – by October 31. Whether this strategy of non-cooperation, disparagement and, by all appearances, dishonesty, will work as an effective cover-up strategy will depend on how interested the rest of the mainstream media remains in the story, and how well the McCain team's strategy of attacking all media institutions works.

It's hard to believe that America might actually be even more dishonestly, ineffectually and ideologically governed after January 20, 2009 than before it. But the Palin/Troopergate story, like so much of the tone and tenor of the McCain campaign post-nomination, offers ample evidence for just such a nightmare scenario.