A few disclosures to the incoming Obama administration: As a 20-year-old, I received a ticket (fine greater than $50) for having jumped a subway turnstile in New York City. A few years later, I received another ticket (fine likewise greater than $50), this time for allowing my miniature dachshund to run off the leash in Riverside Park. I spent several years as a bass player in a rock band. And one of my earlier efforts in journalism, a poorly-received attempt at humour about some socialists who turned me into a Republican for an evening, led to a demonstration by the International Socialist Organisation outside the offices of my employer. I believe one of the chants was this: "TA Frank, he should go, kill and die for Texaco."

I recite this dull list of facts because each is an example of what I would need to reveal in order to be considered for a job in the Obama administration. And I imagine the above paragraph alone would be enough to bring the process to a premature halt. The New York Times says this year's questionnaire may be the "most extensive – some say invasive – application ever". And the increased levels of disclosure have been coupled with what Obama's transition guru John Podesta calls "the strictest ethics rules ever applied".

Sounds like fun. We're well on our way to the most boring group of applicants ever. (When even I look overly colourful, you know you're in a boring place.) On the one hand, I suppose this is all well and good, provided these boring people are good at their jobs and can save the nation from meltdown. That's high priority. But on the other, I hope Obama will pick a few eccentrics and rogues – not only because some jobs are best suited for eccentrics and rogues (Pat Moynihan was an entertaining UN ambassador), but also because scandal will befall someone in his administration anyway. It's unavoidable. Relentless disclosure of one's life has been standard in Washington since the end of Watergate and the passage of the Ethics in Government Act in 1978. With the exception of George Bush's White House, nearly every incoming administration has been described as having the most stringent vetting ever.

Disclosure of even minor traffic tickets – as well as the all-purpose request for information that "could be the possible source of embarrassment to you, or to the president" – has been standard for nearly 30 years now. Has it prevented scandals? Not at all. Even with copious vetting, every president from Carter though Bush has put forward some nominee who embarrassed him. In the case of Bush the Elder, one classic move was to make White House Counsel C Boyden Gray an ethics advisor, only to find that Gray had innumerable conflicts of interest himself.

In an ideal world, of course, the very act of disclosing all finances and potential conflicts of interest would go a long way towards satisfying the American people that their public servant in question was honourable. In the real world, however, it has wound up having the opposite effect. Disclosure just tends to feed more insistence on disclosure. That's because we tend to think the worst of our political opponents, so that the more we see the more suspicious we tend to get. This works the same way on both sides. I still find Dick Cheney's Halliburton connections to be rather malodorous, even though they've been disclosed. Republicans still find Democratic connections to Fannie Mae to be malodorous, even though they've been disclosed.

Certainly, some of the conflict of interest blowups we've seen over the years have been genuinely outrageous. More commonly, though, they've revolved around things like the peanut loan to Jimmy Carter. Do you happen to recall that in 1979 a special counsel was appointed to investigate the loans made to Jimmy Carter's peanut business by a bank once controlled by his friend Bert Lance, director of the office of management and budget? If you do, then you're probably Jimmy Carter or Bert Lance. But at the time, it seemed like a big deal for some long-forgotten reason. The trouble is that Washington DC is a small town, and conflicts of interest suffuse everything that happens there. No amount of disclosure is likely to change that.

Now look, I'm still a big believer in transparency and disclosure. I'd never suggest that the White House revert to backroom winks and handshakes when staffing up or that Congress ease up on its ethics rules. And Obama has done very well to vet his people fully rather than meet them once and look them up on Wikipedia. But let's not forget that the press is hungry for scandals no matter what, and if it can't get big stuff, it'll settle for small things. Embarrassment of some sort is inevitable, and Obama might as well make the best of it. So if a non-boring-but-checkered candidate comes across his desk – like, say, a Clinton – I hope Obama won't let the vetting break the deal if he really wants to hire the person in question. Like every president, he's screwed anyway, so he might as well enjoy the company he keeps.