He is, arguably, the most famous rabbi in America. He has a syndicated radio talk show, is the author of "Kosher Sex" and 13 other books, and once counseled Michael Jackson. But he himself is not a celebrity, insists Rabbi Shmuley Boteach.

Celebrities, he says, have an insatiable need for more attention, are deified by the American public — and often lead damaged lives. To direct Americans back to "everyday decency," Rabbi Shmuley has written his 14th book, "The Private Adam: Becoming a Hero in a Selfish Age."

He prefers to be known by his first name, because Boteach is too hard for most people to pronounce correctly, he says. (It's not bo-teach but something distinctly more guttural). He is currently in negotiations to air his syndicated radio show on a planned Bonneville International AM station. The rabbi was in Utah earlier this week discussing that deal and skiing with his wife.

Yes, Rabbi Shmuley admits, he once was seduced by the idea of celebrity. Those were the days when he hung out with Michael Jackson and other stars. But now, he says, he thinks he's "weaned off it," having come to the realization that "most celebrities are frivolous fools" who ultimately believe they are gods who don't have to live by other people's rules.

Biblical heroes, he says, were internal heroes, the kind of person who cared "not about world conquest but self conquest; who mastered compassion, forgiveness and spiritual greatness." Our heroes today, he says, are the ones who can "throw an orange ball through a hoop."

The greatest human quality is dignity, argues Rabbi Shmuley. "But we in the West are losing our sense of dignity. . . . Celebrity and dignity are in conflict now." We applaud not just NBA stars and rock stars but their errant behavior. (America's focus on firefighters as heroes after Sept. 11? That lasted about a month, the rabbi says.)

So Rabbi Shmuley recently wrote an open letter to Britney Spears. He once met Spears in Jackson's hotel room ("I was the short one with the frizzy whiskers," he reminds the singer.) The lengthy letter chastises Spears as a "female celebrity train wreck," famous now for a 55-hour marriage, skimpy clothes and a TV kiss with Madonna.

"You are one of the people largely responsible for religiously inclined people like me feeling that our daughters must be increasingly cut off from the popular culture," Rabbi Shmuley writes. "We are having to become much more strict with how our daughters dress, what music they listen to, who their friends are — all because we would rather be mauled by Rottweilers than ever allow our daughters to grow up dressing and acting like you."

What destroyed Jackson, and what is destroying Spears, the rabbi says, "is being bereft of a normal life, the sting of which is compensated for by the soothing warmth of the spotlight."