Gingrich himself, in an interview on July 30, 1999, the day his second divorce filing became public, said he did not plan to run for president and would instead keep busy "developing the next generation of ideas." He's performed brilliantly in that sphere over the past eight years.

For a time he seemed content in doing what he does well. When I interviewed him earlier this year, he turned down the political opportunity to clear the air concerning his infidelities and stated, "About the most I'll ever say is, I am a person. I have weaknesses I have no ambition that requires me to get engaged in personal dialogues."

On Focus on the Family's radio show last month, though, he for the first time publicly acknowledged the long-term adultery that shocked his colleagues in 1999 -- not so much because of the infidelity itself, but because of his recklessness. Gingrich's honesty was good, but does his declaration mean that he now has a presidential ambition that requires him to engage in "personal dialogues"? I hope not.

It's still fun to watch Gingrich in action as he throws around ideas in speeches. His stump speech touches on the messes in foreign policy, domestic policy, technology policy, policy policy, and lays out something like a 141-point strategy to deal with the messes, including a blueprint on how the White House should reorganize itself.

Gingrich is now engaged in the calling for which he is best suited. He is not dainty. For example, he doesn't think Islam should be called a religion of peace and says we need "an honest conversation" about it. He says that some of our politically correct discourse now is like "trying to describe Nazis without saying they're German." That's exactly right.

We need more talk of that kind. Wherever Gingrich speaks, people not only listen, but think. But is intellectual brilliance the most important ingredient for a successful presidency?