There was a strange headline in The Irish Times recently. "Dearth of issues drags presidential contest into trivia," it said. The question this headline raised was when was it any different? US presidential elections have been dominated by the character of the candidates rather than issues for many years.

From here presidential elections of ten look like a wonderful exercise in democracy, with everyone involved in a process that mixes serious politics with razzmatazz and showbiz. There it is viewed somewhat differently. There is little interest in the candidates or the outcome, except on the part of journalists and political junkies. The turnout for the 1996 election was 49 per cent, the lowest in 72 years.

Two elements are inextricably linked in the election, media and politics. In this election, which, we must remind ourselves, is still 10 months away, the media have had to address more profoundly the way they do things because of the Lewinsky factor.

The American media took a battering over their coverage of the Lewinsky affair. They have also been under heavy fire for ignoring issues and preferring to concentrate on the supposed character of the candidates and the horse-race element of the election.

Research undertaken by the Pew Centre for the People and the Press indicates that already there has been a fall-off in interest in campaign news, even before the parties have nominated their candidates. The director of the Pew Research Centre, Andrew Kohut, writing in the Columbia Journalism Review, said: "Fuelled by discontent, triggered by a backlash of the Lewinsky story, Americans are avoiding, if not boycotting, news about the upcoming presidential election."

According to Kohut, most voters do not want reports about past abortions, prescriptions for anti-depressants, marijuana use and extramarital affairs. A majority also does not want to be told of a candidate's homosexuality, past psychiatric treatment, or cocaine use as a young adult. They do, however, believe it is appropriate to report stories concerning abuse of a spouse, income-tax evasion and lies about academic or military records.

The American public is also increasingly sceptical about the media's watchdog role. Only 53 per cent, a slim majority, value close media scrutiny of candidates. Ten years ago 32 per cent believed such scrutiny discouraged good candidates. Today that figure stands at 42 per cent.

Americans are also reading fewer newspapers. Between 1970 and 1997 the percentage of adults who read a daily newspaper fell from 78 per cent to 59 per cent. Among younger people between 21 and 35 years old, only about 30 per cent read a newspaper every day.

In post-Lewinsky America people believe the media are too powerful and influential and too easy on front runners in elections. The research shows people believe news editors are swayed more by political insiders when making news decisions than their own readers, viewers and listeners.

Kohut writes: "The climate of public opinion about both press and politics and about the way the two come together is clearly at a low point. There are signs in the polls that the political impact of the impeachment scandal may fade. The same cannot be said for the press. In public attitudes the legacy of Lewinsky coverage is all too apparent."

On election night in 1996, Rupert Murdoch's Fox Network showed Beethoven, a film about a dog not the composer, instead of election coverage. Whatever one might think of Murdoch, there is no doubt that his executives understand the market.

The media are aware of what is taking place and have been trying to find ways to address it, albeit with some reluctance. One way has been a movement in the American press called Civic or Public journalism. This tries to reconnect newspapers and other media with the communities they serve. It has tended to do this using opinion polls and focus groups.

It has been criticised and even ridiculed for its reliance on focus groups and for abandoning traditional journalism. There is little doubt that the zeal of its adherents has tended to irritate journalists, who like to rely on their nose for news. It now appears that some elements of civic journalism are increasingly becoming part of the mainstream news agenda, partly because of the fall-out from the Lewinsky affair and the election of Jesse Ventura as governor of Minnesota, which was totally unanticipated by the press.

There are other factors which are forcing the press to look at how it does things. The increasingly sophisticated political websites, rolling news services and non-stop cable news all mean the idea of the scoop is gone and pressure for speed has increased massively.

There are also the scandals in the media. Invented stories, plagiarism and scandals about newspapers colluding with advertisers have served to undermine the press.

One of the effects of all this is the media love affair with John McCain, the Republican victor in the New Hampshire, Michigan and Arizona primaries. McCain is loved because of the access he gives the media in a political world that is increasingly controlled by media managers. He is loved for his willingness to speak out on issues, but above all he is loved because he looks to be without fault.

As a veteran and former Vietnam prisoner of war there is unlikely to be a skeleton in his cupboard. It is unlikely he snorted cocaine or inhaled marijuana. The media does not have to ask him the questions the public does not like. He is also fighting the established favourite, George W. Bush. As far as the voters can see, he is also willing to answer questions. In post-Lewinsky America, John McCain is the perfect candidate for the media.

Michael Foley is a lecturer in journalism at the Dublin Institute of Technology