Joseph Brennan, a former governor who developed a campaign theme out of his constitutional responsibility to balance the state budget during eight years in office, now is under public scrutiny for things he also did consistently:

Appointing friends to positions of authority.

Repaying political debts with public offices.

Riding the ragged edge between what clearly is improper and what merely is offensive to people with higher ethical standards.

Last weekend, NEWS political editor John Day reported that late in 1986, then-Governor Joseph Brennan pardoned half a dozen party activists, wiping clean their legal records, allowing convicted cronies to coast into new positions in the post-Brennan era.

In all, Brennan pardoned as many people during the 1986 Christmas/Thanksgiving holiday, a few weeks before leaving office, as Gov. John McKernan has in four years.

Pardons have their place in government. Chief executives should not be rated solely on their willingness to issue pardons or commute sentences, but they can be judged on the motivation for exercising this prerogative, including the nature of the crime, extenuating circumstances and the need to correct errors in the judicial process.

Based on any reasonable standard, Gov. Brennan’s pardons of a campaign aid and well-connected party activists for crimes including criminal fraud simply do not qualify as an appropriate use of such an awesome power.

Maine’s campaign for governor, which to this point has narrowly touched on one facet of the state’s economic condition, is beginning to include an exhaustive examination of the records of both men, their personal conduct, and actions that run much deeper than their comparative success with the Legislature, or their adherence to campaign promises.

Gov. McKernan has made his mistakes, which are visibile in the sunlight, but the Brennan pardons remind this state of a style and a legacy that lingers to this day, a political era in Maine that was colored a dark grey.