The intensity of coverage accorded to the disappearance of an airplane carrying John F. Kennedy, Jr., his wife and sister in law cannot be explained in terms of Kennedy's own accomplishments in the world. Rather, it is his place in the mythic Kennedy-Camelot kingdom Americans have created. Pacific News Service associate editor Andrew Reding is a senior fellow of the World Policy Institute in New York.

I am bewildered by the fuss being made over the untimely death of John F. Kennedy, Jr. Yes, it is tragic, particularly for his sister Caroline, who is left without any living parents or siblings. But private tragedy is an everyday occurrence affecting thousands of families in the United States. Why should this one be turned into a public tragedy of the first rank?

Unlike his famous father, John Jr. was never elected to public office. Nor did he die a martyr's death. On the contrary, it looks as though he took an unreasonable risk that ended up killing his two passengers -- his wife and sister-in-law -- as well. That's more like Edward Kennedy at Chappaquidick than President John Kennedy in Dallas, or Senator Robert Kennedy on the 1968 campaign trail. Except that unlike Edward Kennedy, John, Jr. paid for his recklessness with his own life.

The clue to the puzzle is in the inevitable comparison with the media frenzy following the death of Britain's Princess Diana. Never mind that the Constitution says that "No title of nobility shall be granted by the United States." The lack of formal title notwithstanding, the fuss is about the death of John, Crown Prince of Camelot.

Only in that light do his qualifications add up. Like Diana, he was never a public figure of any stature except in the Hollywood sense. He was an indifferent student who twice flunked the bar exams. When he finally passed, he quit the legal profession. The only mark he ever made on the political scene -- a modest one at that -- was to launch the magazine George.

But as we are reminded over and over again on the network news, he was "a hunk." John Jr. was far better known for his link to People Magazine, which ran a cover story in 1988 labeling him "the sexiest man alive," than for George. And he played into the image, first dating Hollywood actress Darryl Hanna, then marrying Calvin Klein fashion publicist Carolyn Bessette. A key element of the Kennedy mystique has always been looks and glamour.

Another key element has been to demonstrate one's manhood by living on the edge. Jousting has gone out of favor in the twentieth century, but the Kennedy men have taken its modern counterparts from the sublime to the ridiculous, as when Michael Kennedy skied into a tree while playing football on the slopes. Not exactly PT-109. Nor was there anything particularly chivalrous about flying with two women on board over the ocean at night without an instrument rating when forecasts called for haze.

To his credit, John Jr. stayed clear of the Kennedy men's penchant for womanizing. It is a sad commentary that his most memorable contribution to George is likely to be an essay in which he chastised his cousins Michael and Joseph Kennedy (the latter at least a reasonably good congressman) as "poster boys for bad behavior." He might have mentioned his own father, or his Uncle Edward, though at least both of them had distinguished careers in public service.

Ultimately, however, I'm afraid John Jr. was himself the prime victim of our national obsession with the Kennedys. In an unconscious parody of the predicament thrust on him by the myth of Camelot, John Jr. recently visited Mount Rushmore, where he climbed onto the 60-foot faces of Jefferson, Roosevelt, Lincoln and Washington.

It is hard enough to fill the shoes of a prominent monarch in a hereditary kingdom. In a highly competitive democracy, such expectations are unrealistic, unfair, and even cruel. And the psychological burden they place on the children of the famous is an invitation to tragedy. If we want to understand the Kennedy curse, we must be prepared to recognize the role played by popular culture.

That is why I am doubly thankful that this honorary crown prince did not leave any princelings behind to perpetuate the myth . . . and the tragedy.