FRONT-RUNNERS often have a hard time recognizing that they are not the centers of the universe. This is what helped doom Gary Hart's campaign when he invited the press to follow him around to see if he was up to any hanky-panky. And it's what helped do in Michael S. Dukakis when he rolled his eyes and ignored his staff's advice to counter the Willie Horton ad directly.

And now, as Bill Clinton responds to near-weekly allegations with little more than a made-for-TV smile, some voters seem to think that his response typifies easy Southern charm and resilience. My inkling is that Clinton is just a candidate who can already smell the velvet drapery of the Oval Office.

As the apparent dog-fight between Bill Clinton and Paul Tsongas degenerates into barb-trading and negative campaigning, they've begun to ignore real issues.

But former California Governor Jerry Brown has talked directly about the issue of power--the only real issue.

IN A WORD, it comes down to money. The 800 number, the $100 cap on contributions, the grass roots style--Brown has based his campaign on refusing to accommodate the powerful elite in America.

This strategy has been scorned by many pundits and media consultants alike. But it's working. Long after Senators Bob Kerrey and Tom Harkin dropped out, saddled with millions in debt, Brown is still alive.

And although he cites his 800 number every time you turn around, earning him derision as the most annoying candidate in the race, such tactics deserve to be the centerpiece of a campaign.

Throughout the primary season, the Democratic contenders have railed against Brown's assertion that they are part of a corrupt system that is rigged in favor of "big-money interests." Yes, it's the stuff of stump speeches, but corporations, political action committees (PACs) and wealthy individuals do have an unparalleled impact on the way the public chooses its leaders.

And although a congressional effort to reform campaign finance in 1974 limited personal contributions to $1000, the move was a simple palliative which did little to curtail the prohibitive costs of campaigning for national office.

The one characteristic that large campaign donors seem to have in common is that they are wealthy--and intend to say that way. They tend to be conservative, which is why centrist candidates like Bill Clinton, a former chair of the conservative Democratic Leadership Council, often attract the most money.

BUT THE OTHER candidates just don't get it--or pretend not to get it. The most chilling moment of the campaign occurred in a recent debate when former Sen. Paul E. Tsongas tried to dispute Brown's point about how monied interests influence the system.

Tsongas lamely claimed that even without an artificial limit, his average donation remained about $100. But a recent USA Today article on fat-cat financing showed that fully 30 percent of Tsongas' funds came from contributors who gave $1000. The figure for Bill Clinton was higher, 41 percent, and, as expected, still higher for President Bush at 70 percent.

The problem is that these candidates refuse to acknowledge that the people from whom they accept big donations and PAC funds are the same ones who demand disproportionate influence in Congress. The average voter can probably give $100, but when the stakes start getting much higher, they've become too great for the average citizen to participate.

And there are other problems. The current tax code, for example, is over 4000 pages long and is unintelligible to the average American because it is riddled with so many loopholes and tax breaks for various corporations and even wealthy individuals. Tax reform in the '80s closed some of these loopholes, but the system is still an unfair one.

The second part of Tsongas' rebuttal to Brown was that, as he rather proudly asserted, he had only had one Wall Street fund-raiser--just three days before, in fact. But that was precisely the point.