Born the fourth of nine siblings, Kim Wayans found fame as the reoccurring character Benita Buttrell on the early 1990s TV sketch comedy “In Living Color,” which was created and produced by older brother Keenen Ivory. Her catchphrase elevated the segments onto the national stage and into our collective vernacular. “But I ain’t one to gossip, so you ain’t heard it from me” would naturally precede some of the most toe-curling and juicy chinwags recently overheard in the neighborhood. Ms. Buttrell made it her business intimately to know everyone else’s business. She understood how to use this information to her own advantage and did.

It was all harmless enough, even funny. The skits poked fun at the bride whose choice to wear white may not have been related to purity, or the big spender whose gold watch was likely plated. She was the voice of truth, at least a sort of veracity. Still, her reliability stood in all things except for her claims that she herself wasn’t a gossip. We all got a laugh from the universality of it all. Who doesn’t know someone like Buttrell and her deserving targets?

Is all tattling harmless, even if a bit tasteless? The Supreme Court of the United States has sprung an unprecedented leak of late. Its classified discussions are not being kept so confidential and appear in the media before adjudicated. So, when does a “leak” become an intentional political tool and the secrets being used to gain advantage? Sharing corporate privileged news for benefit is called insider trading and will land the gossip in jail. Martha Stewart can attest. Is there likewise a reason to cage the judicial jay birds? We all use information to gain elevated status, but when does the harm move from middle school busybody to prison jail bird?