I often ponder how the course of history can be altered by the arbitrary actions of one person. Mark Felt’s telling escapades in the early 1970’s helped to bring down a president and catapult two journalists to national fame and fortune. But what would have happened if Mr. Felt hadn’t followed his conscience? What if there was no “Deep Throat?”

More than likely, Richard Nixon would have served out his term without the world knowing about all the skullduggery that went on inside the White House. Notables such as G. Gordon Liddy and Charles Colson would never have gone to prison. As sitting vice president, Gerald Ford would have run for the 1976 presidency and likely have beaten Jimmy Carter, seeing as there would never have been the famous pardon. With Ford in the White House holding down an untainted presidency, the events inside of Iran, and other parts of the world may not have been the same. Carter’s economic policies that led to runaway inflation may not have been so drastic and Ronald Reagan would not have been elected in the 1980 campaign. If not, there’s a chance that the Soviet Union would still be in existence. The imagination can run wild.

But it all was altered by a single whistle-blower. In school, we called them “finks.” In police circles, we called them “informants”. The Mafia calls them “rats.” Within organized crime circles, rats are considered so abhorrent they are unceremoniously awarded the death penalty.

In the long run, no one really loves a rat.

As a 30-year veteran of law enforcement, I can attest to the value of snitches and informants. I solved many rapes and murders, thanks to them. Most flipped state’s evidence because their back was to the wall on other charges, or they were afraid of who they were dealing with. Rarely did anyone ever rat because of moral conscience.

Prisons are full of inmates thanks to the testimony of snitches. Hopefully, the majority of their information is true. Unfortunately, a small percentage is not, and innocent people suffer for it.

Every rat I ever lured into the statement room is now forgotten. They are as insignificant today as broken wind in a hurricane. As detectives, we courted them, bought them meals, massaged their egos until we got what we needed; a solved case, a conviction, maybe even department recognition. Even when they did the right thing, there was always something about another person who would turn in their friend, their spouse, or their brother, that bothered me. Except, of course, it meant saving a life.

Within the police department, it was considered taboo to divulge sensitive or classified information — available only to insiders — to news media personnel. Not only was it a violation of written orders, it was an unspoken code of conduct. Sure, we’d occasionally dribble tidbits to reporters for their stories, but no one in my circle of investigators would ever pass classified evidentiary information to a reporter. That was like ... being a rat.

We cops, particularly investigators, are replete with inside information that the media would find juicy. But we are also infused with trust; trust by fellow officers, administrators, the courts and the citizenry at large. An honorable officer does not feed a frenzied media.

There were times I had access to information that may have been considered wrongful conduct on the part of insiders, but I also had to weigh the moral scale and determine which was worse, turning a blind eye or be a rat. If the information was criminal, it was my duty to bring the matter into the legal arena, certainly not to newspaper reporters.

The unspoken tenet of law enforcement lay in the element of “necessity.” It’s necessary when a life is endangered. It’s necessary when a serious felony has been, or is about to be committed, that will seriously harm another person. It’s necessary when the issues are so compelling, one has no other choice but to pass on information.

This brings into question the significance of Mr. Felt. How “necessary” was it for him to pass classified information to a newspaper reporter? Was he compelled by moral conscience? Or was it retribution for being passed up by Nixon for director of the FBI?

Here was a man who hovered as Number Two within the most prestigious law enforcement agency in the world. His job was to oversee FBI investigators so that evidence of wrongdoing would properly be presented to a court of law. He was a man entrusted with the helm, whose political leanings, bruised ego or moral conscience led to the disruption of our government in a way never seen before.

Was he right? Should history mark him a hero, or a rat?

When scientist Jeffrey Wigand exposed the tobacco industry’s sinister motives for inducing higher and more addicting qualities of nicotine into cigarettes, he likely saved millions of lives. By saving lives, in anyone’s book, his actions were justified as “necessity.” Anyone who saves innocent lives, directly or indirectly, is a hero. (Wigand’s role was played by Russell Crowe in the movie, “The Insider.”)

Linda Tripp is another example of balancing the moral scale between hero and rat. Had she not taken it upon herself to violate the trust of a so-called friend, the entire Clinton/Lewinsky media fiasco would never have occurred. Would the nation have been better off? Was Tripp’s action a necessity? Will history see her as a hero? Or a rat?

Imagine, if one of the White House confidants of 1963 had taken it upon themselves to snitch on John F. Kennedy, and all his womanizing escapades. So much for Camelot. Same with Lyndon Johnson, Dwight Eisenhower and FDR, all of whom were known to stray from their marriage. How many potential rats kept their mouths shut then?

If every employee inside of government with knowledge of impropriety squealed to the news media, there would be no government.

It may not sound morally perfect, but sometimes we’re better off not knowing everything that goes on behind closed doors.

As for Mr. Felt, history will surely judge him as he should be judged. That’s, of course, after the book sells a million copies.

(Marshall Frank is a retired Metro Dade homicide detective and a novelist. He can be reached at mlf238@aol.com.)