On October 9, Dong Yong'an stood on trial in Xuchang, Henan Province, for taking 26 million yuan (US$4.15 million) in bribes.

Dong was the former chief of the powerful (thus profitable) provincial communications and transport department who became, following criminal investigation in 2010, the fourth such chief in that province to be toppled for corruption in 16 years.

Each of these senior officials was known to have vowed to run a clean and tight ship during their reign.

Ex-chief Zeng Jincheng, for example, once dramatized his determination to the Party by writing in his own blood, "In the name of a Communist Party member, I promised to the Party that I would not receive a single penny from others ..."

In 1997 Zeng was sentenced to 15 years imprisonment for taking 300,000 yuan in bribes.

Zhang Kuntong, Zeng's successor, pledged when taking the office to "extend clean governance all the way down the provincial expressways," and got life in 2001 for taking 1 million yuan in bribes.

Shi Faliang, Zhang's successor, philosophized when being appointed that "honesty is worth a thousand taels of gold," and was given life in 2006, for taking 20 million yuan in graft.

Then there was a period of exception from 2003 to 2008, under the reign of An Huiyuan, who is now safely retired, before the office was taken over by Dong, who famously pledged to "use my power properly, to be clean, and strict in my personal life."

China Youth Daily, while commenting this Monday on rampant corruption in some sectors, points to the systemic dysfunction in official supervision.

While self-discipline is important, the state should work more on building a system that makes it impossible for officials to monetize the power entrusted to them.

Experts believe one explanation for rampant corruption in some sectors is that under the current framework officials are generally expected to be supervised by those who are at the same level in terms of administrative hierarchy, thus seriously limiting the efficacy of supervision.

Given this limitation, there is need to set up a comprehensive, multi-tiered supervision network that takes into account the efforts of the media and society at large.

As a matter of fact, clues supplied by the grassroots people have already become a formidable force in identifying and tracking down erring officials.

Yes, there was Yang Dacai, and the latest case is Cai Bin, commissar for the urban management bureau in Panyu, Guangzhou, who was subject on Monday to "double designation," a Party disciplinary measure that is often a prelude to criminal charge.

Early this month there had been online allegations that Cai owned 21 units of property, totalling 7,203 square meters in floor space.

Subsequent official investigation put the number at 22 units.

When Cai was required to report his property as part of official full disclosure, he put the number at two.

Cai's scandal sheds fresh light on the challenge of working out an effective system whereby officials, regardless of their ranks, must honestly reveal their family assets, not just to the Party, but to the people as well.

The frequent eruption of officials scandals should not be seen in isolation, but can be better understood in terms of general social moral decay.

Rule of money

In a society where money has become almost the only criterion for judging respectability, the meaning of life cannot but be defined by advertisements, glamour of celebrities and stars, LV bags, cars, and real estate.

These aspirations fit nicely with tacit official exhortations for growth, almost at any cost.

Naturally the "good" officials, as we know today, are generally those glib of tongue, shrewd at striking business dealings, good at leveraging personal ties, and able with an iron hand to push through relocations of residents in favor of development projects.

There have been recent reports of several civil service examination test takers who excelled in written tests, but were later eliminated in interviews for being "unfit" for public service because of their personal character.

Which raise the question of our evolved concept of "good" officials.

I am put in mind of the administrative philosophy of Cao Can, who was prime minister not long after the establishment of the Western Han Dynasty (206 BC-AD 24).

After taking office, Cao stuck tenaciously to the policies initiated by the previous regime, favoring those officials singularly not glib of tongue but honest, while firing those facile with words and thirsty to establish their fame.

Instead of working hard, the new prime minister enjoyed himself day and night by dining and wining.

Minimal disturbance

When censured by the emperor, Cao said, "Now that the previous regime has laid down these good policies, what is there for me to do but to implement them?"

As a consequence, people extolled Cao, for they could live in peace, suffering minimal disturbance from the government.

Cao was capable of achieving this welcome phase of prosperity exactly because he had not yet been disturbed by the drumbeat for prosperity, in an era of leisure and simple pleasures inconceivable to those brought up on the progress principle.

Well-known history expert Lu Simian, while commenting on this period in the 1920s, observed, "The people in the Han Dynasties (221 BC-AD 220), being still near the genius of feudal times, were famous for being generous. They are manifestly different from the philistine Chinese in later dynasties, having among them numerous people who would willingly give up their wealth and inherited titles for ideals."

Sadly, according to prevailing concepts today, civilized human beings refer to those who can be neatly reduced to consumers.

In countering these tendencies, we need reform, but we also need to be armed ideologically, by values and faith. That presupposes a government that transcends the highly limiting economic parameters.