Since 1992, Proceedings has devoted a great deal of ink to the subject of gay people being allowed to serve openly in the U.S. armed forces. Most recently, retired Navy Captain James F. Kelly Jr. wrote a commentary on the current status of the don't ask, don't tell policy.1 In the succeeding issue, former Navy junior officer Charles M. Oakley wrote a letter taking issue with many of Captain Kelly's assertions.2
As probably is natural with hot-button issues such as this, these and previous articles and letters have fallen into one of two diametrical positions. No "third way" has made its way into print. I hope to remedy this by taking the position that arguments on both sides in the debate have merits, as well as flaws.
First, however, I should lay my cards on the table, to put what I have to say into context. I am a former Coast Guard officer (Coast Guard Academy Class of 1975) who didn't realize I was gay until I had been out of uniform for almost three years. As luck would have it, I didn't go through the psychological turmoil of "hiding who I really was" (since I didn't know who I really was), and I didn't leave the service because of my same-sex interests. It was only after leaving the Coast Guard that I gradually and rationally came to the conclusion that I was gay.
Had it not been for a coworker who thought he was doing the country a service by reporting my sexual orientation to the security office, I would not have been fired from the National Security Agency in 1984, and most likely I would not have gone through a gay militant phase that ended with the don't ask, don't tell debacle in 1993.
From mid-1990 through mid-1994, I had an office on the HIV ward of Naval Medical Center, San Diego, from which I recruited HIV-positive active-duty military personnel for a University of California medical study.
And from mid-1990 through mid-1993, I was on the board of directors of an organization of gay veterans in San Diego that (among other things) assisted gay service members who were being hounded and discharged because they were gay. The organization took an early and active lead in supporting Bill Clinton's presidential campaign in the fall of 1992 largely because of his stated position on gays in the military and his pledge to lift the ban once in office. I had misgivings about the organization taking such a position, and I left it soon after the inauguration in opposition to the counterproductive road I believed gay activists were taking.
I saw those gay people who joined the stampede to the Clinton bandwagon as blind followers of a candidate who was pandering to them by promising the only thing he could possibly deliver—since enacting civil rights legislation is not within a president's control. I believed that, despite his laudable and probably sincere motives, Bill Clinton was practicing wedge-issue politics. Candidate Clinton might have promised "with the stroke of a pen" to remove all disabilities to gay men and lesbians serving openly in the military, but I knew that the post-inauguration reality would not be that simple. Gay people, while they might no longer have to deal with a discriminatory policy, would find its rescission a Pyrrhic victory, given the hostility they would face (with some justification) from their heterosexual fellow service members.
A close second in importance to me was the arrogance of gay activists who were bent on seeing Clinton's promise implemented after his inauguration. It was disturbing that those activists refused to consider how instant rescission of the policy would affect the country through its armed forces.3 Even more disturbing, though, was the fact that activists leading the charge were not consulting active-duty gay people to see if they really wanted what the activists were selling. What Petty Officer Keith Meinhold and Lieutenant (junior grade) Tracy Thorne were saying at every opportunity to the media didn't jibe with what most active-duty gay service members were telling me. From my vantage point at the naval hospital, I found (somewhat to my surprise) that career-minded gay servicemen had a very realistic view of what would happen if the new president gave high priority to the issue.
Like a person used to living in shadows who suddenly finds a spotlight shined on him, most gay service members felt exposed, cornered, and vulnerable. They were used to living quietly gay personal lives and ostensibly non-gay lives on base or on board ship. They were uncomfortable with the idea of their secret becoming the issue everyone was talking about.
As things then stood, gay men and lesbians in uniform constituted a kind of secret society, members of which generally kept quiet about each other. In turn, the services for the most part didn't go out of their way to seek out and discharge gay and lesbian service members, although there were many notable exceptions. Gay men and lesbians in uniform, however, seemed to sense that if the policy were rescinded, solidarity would evaporate and they would be on their own to face a more actively anti-gay military. They also feared that some of their number would feel no need to maintain their previous silence and might innocently (or even maliciously) identify men and women who might not want their sexual orientation to be common knowledge. This, they feared, might result in subtle or overt harassment and even violence, in addition to official action.
The possible illogic of these perceptions is less the issue than the fact that the gay activists were pushing ahead (using Margarethe Camermeyer, Tracy Thorne, Keith Meinhold, and Miriam ben Shalom as poster children) without really considering the consequences for the thousands of gay people then serving. In short, I found their paternalistic we-know-what's-best-for-you attitude galling and destined to be counterproductive.
Unfortunately, my misgivings have proved well founded. Not only has the don't ask, don't tell policy been a disaster for gay people (despite Captain Kelly's belief to the contrary4), but what was before merely an internal military regulation has been enshrined in federal law.
Is Mr. Oakley's solution (removing overnight all obstacles to gay people serving openly in the military, saying to hell with objections of fear-mongering heterosexuals) the only alternative? I think not. I believe the privacy concerns Captain Kelly describes to be ridiculous,5 but they exist and they must be taken into account. This is another point on which the gay activists and I part company. Any effective negotiator, policymaker, or politician takes his opponents seriously. But gay activists refused to acknowledge—much less address—the concerns expressed by service leaders. Instead, they just pooh-poohed them. This is not a tactic likely to achieve much success, however you define success.
The activists who were so intent on overturning the existing policy in 1992 and 1993 (and who largely have abandoned the issue now that it no longer is a source of daily media coverage) could not accept that the time was not—and still is not—right for the armed forces to remove all restrictions to gay people serving openly. This is not to say that removing those restrictions isn't the right thing to do. It is to say that practical considerations must sometimes delay the pursuit of moral visions. Abraham Lincoln realized this even when it came to the issue of slavery—the ultimate evil this nation has ever faced—as it related to ending the Civil War.6 I don't expect gay activists to be as wise as Lincoln, but they could learn from history and profit from his example.
Until the overwhelming majority of Americans acknowledges the immorality of penalizing people based on any factor unrelated to merit (including race, sex, age, handicap, and sexual orientation), the US armed forces should not be forced to lead the way to that goal. Those who opposed the don't ask, don't tell policy had a valid point when they said the military should not be made a vehicle for social experimentation.
And that leads me to another point on which the gay activists and I differ. The situation with respect to gay people is not the same as that which existed in late 1940s with respect to blacks or in the 1970s with respect to women. No one who has studied the black struggle for civil rights7 could say so cavalierly, as most gay activists do, that blacks and gay people are in the same boat. Gay people have not been routinely mistreated, throughout US history, the same way blacks were (and in certain horrible cases still are), and they are not perceived the same way by society at large.8
One major difference is that blacks (and women) are a visible minority and therefore have been unable to avoid persecution. Gay people, on the other hand, can be as visible or invisible as they choose. That chameleon-like quality makes many heterosexuals uneasy, and it probably is at least one source of the heterosexual male's obsession with privacy when it comes to showering and living arrangements.
Until society has changed enough so that gay people don't feel it necessary to live schizophrenic existences—playing straight in some situations and being openly gay in others—many will continue to remain invisible and the unease among heterosexual males and some females will continue.9 And until that unease has largely vanished, it is unfair to force the military—which is called on to put readiness to defend the nation ahead of all else—to do what civilian society largely avoids doing.
Of course, Mr. Oakley is correct when he identifies how we all should behave. We all should respect others, regardless of how they differ from us. But whining about the way things ought to be doesn't change what is. Trying to force the majority of society not only to tolerate but also to embrace people as misunderstood as gays are is foolish. Even the most militant activist would have to admit that, when forced to do something they vehemently disapprove of or disagree with, people can be expected to resist and often end up disapproving or disagreeing even more strongly.10 And what have you gained when you've converted—by your own pig-headedness—a reasonable person into a bigot?
Mr. Oakley's statement that "the military is paying a high price for not allowing gays to serve openly" also is true, just as it is true to say the services pay a high price when they ipso facto exclude from the pool of potential recruits anyone who has talent to do what the services need done. But saying this fails to recognize, as Captain Kelly implies, that military missions are paramount and those who might hinder mission performance—even if that hindrance stems from baseless fears, paranoia, and bigotry—must be excluded. And from a strictly legal perspective (as Captain Kelly also notes), there is no constitutional right to serve in the military. That means that Congress may prescribe whatever rules it wants to govern the armed forces—including those that are morally indefensible—and courts will be loath to overturn them.
Gay activists put the cart before the horse when they say gay people should be allowed to serve openly in the military and that non-gay people should be forced to accept them. Is the disruption this would entail worth the supposed benefits, especially given the horrific stresses in operating tempo and inadequate resources all the services now face? I don't think so. Activists, living as they do in glass houses and most never having served in the military, shouldn't be throwing stones. They should be focusing not on the military but on bringing about tolerance and acceptance in the larger society, which ultimately would make integration of openly gay people in the military a non-issue.
Alas, the pick-and-shovel work of individual gay civilians showing themselves to be worthy of respect and compassion by being good neighbors, coworkers, etc., and letting others know they're gay—via a partner's picture on an office credenza or refusal to change pronouns when talking about one's home life—is not something gay activists seem enthusiastic about embracing. They want their way and they want it NOW!, preferably from a magic-bullet solution such as an executive order, statute, or Supreme Court decision.11 But as we saw in the South in the '60s and in Boston in the '70s, laws and court decisions are singularly unsuccessful at converting unbelievers into believers. You can change behavior by fiat but not opinions. And forced changes in behavior often have a way of hardening rather than transforming opinions and beliefs.
What does all this mean for the don't ask, don't tell policy? Sadly, because the policy is now law,12 it will be hard to return to the status quo ante—which, in retrospect, worked pretty well. The best we can do is make the current policy better. Specifically, there still is too much variation from command to command with respect to how the policy is being implemented. And there still seems to be much confusion among service members at all levels and of all sexual orientations about the policy itself, what it prohibits and what it allows.
In defense of Mr. Oakley, the UCMJ is being capriciously enforced if even a single gay service member is charged with violating an article that applies to all service members regardless of sexual orientation. Incidents such as Mr. Oakley recounts (of his executive officer graphically expounding on how he received sexual favors that are chargeable under the UCMJ) should be considered sexual harassment and treated as such. After all, there are many people besides gays who might find such stories offensive. Such behavior—especially in senior officers—is tasteless, a poor example of leadership, and theoretically actionable under existing sexual harassment policies.
I will not concede, as Captain Kelly seems to assume, that gay people will or should always be expected to keep their own counsel about their sexual orientation. His concluding sentence is irksome: "Gays may continue to serve in the armed forces without barriers by keeping their sexual orientation a private matter—as indeed it ought to be." I won't go as far as Mr. Oakley to say sexual orientation is something one should be proud of. After all, if it is innate (as I believe it is and as scientific research more and more strongly indicates it is), it is no more worthy of pride than is being right-handed or blue-eyed. On the other hand, it is nothing of which one should be ashamed. The fact that one is homosexual should no more be kept secret than the fact that one has brown hair. Conversely, it need not—and should not—be brought up in irrelevant contexts. Hair and eye color, handedness, and other such things are not considered when one is a professional working alongside other professionals; so too should be the case with sexual orientation.
Gay people have a long way to go before they can argue convincingly that they should be allowed to serve openly in the military, and non-gay military people need to work on judging fellow service members on objective criteria only. There's plenty of blame to be placed on both sides.
Only if we all work on our imperfections—individually and collectively—will society become the egalitarian place we say we want it to be, where each person is judged (as Martin Luther King Jr. hoped) "on the content of their character." And only when that happens can the military be expected to open its recruiting offices to people who are openly gay since, in doing so, they will merely be reflecting the larger society. Until then, the services must not be forced to do so. At the same time, to be true to our traditions and founding documents, the services must administer the existing don't ask, don't tell policy more uniformly, more fairly, and with less harshness.
Both sides must become less rigid with respect to the policy. They need to reach an accommodation that furthers the policy's aim of allowing the armed forces to get on with their missions without undue disruption while allowing gay service members to serve without fear of arbitrary and unfounded persecution. Without such an accommodation, unnecessary disruptions will continue to get in the way of national security objectives.
Mr. Webb is a freelance writer living in San Diego. His writings on many subjects have been published numerous times in Proceedings and elsewhere since the mid-1970s.
1. "Don't Ask—Don't' Tell: Is It Working?" US Naval Institute Proceedings, May 2000, p. 4. back to article
2. Comment & Discussion item, "Don't Ask—Don't Tell: Is It Working?" US Naval Institute Proceedings, June 2000, p. 16. back to article
3. The closest they ever came to sounding at all concerned was when they said, when asked about the military services' reaction if the policy were rescinded, "They'll just have to deal with it." back to article
4. The before-and-after statistics demonstrate this, if nothing else does. For statistics and more on results of the current policy, see the Serviceman's Legal Defense Network's web site at <http://www.sldn.org>, which has (among other things) six annual reports on the results of the current policy. There are problems with statistics in that they may reflect more reporting of incidents rather than more incidents, but there can be no denying that the current policy has focused a spotlight on gay men and lesbians where there was no spotlight (or at most a lesser-wattage spotlight) before. back to article
5. They are ridiculous because they demonstrate the power of denial. Captain Kelly and others tacitly say that as long as heterosexual men don't know for sure who's gay and who's not, they can shower together without embarrassment. But as soon as the possibility exists that gay men may be open about their sexual orientation, without fear of official retribution, shower time becomes unbearably traumatic. Never considered is the fact that even if the policy were rescinded, few gay men would willingly court ostracism or worse by disclosing their sexual orientation until they felt those they disclosed it to were comfortable with the idea. And I must also note that heterosexual women don't seem to object to the idea of lesbians sharing their showers or berthing areas. back to article
6. During the Civil War, newspaper editor Horace Greeley had published an editorial raking Lincoln over the coals for his reluctance to adopt emancipation as his policy in prosecuting the war. Lincoln wrote Greeley, saying, "My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone I would also do that." Letter dated 22 August 1862. back to article
7. See, for example, Taylor Branch's Parting the Waters: America in the King Years, 1954-1963 (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1988), and Pillar of Fire: America in the King Years, 1963-1965 (Simon & Schuster, 1998). A third book, covering the period 1965 to 1968, is in progress. back to article
8. For many reasons space prohibits discussing here, the parallel between racially integrating the armed forces after World War II and eliminating discrimination against gays in uniform is tenuous at best. back to article
9. Invisibility perpetuates negative attitudes toward gays, which, in turn, causes many gay people to remain invisible. The invisibility of gay people makes it possible for everyone else to demonize gays by projecting every unpleasant characteristic onto them without fear of contradiction. back to article
10. This is especially true when the disapproval or disagreement is based on moral or philosophical grounds. back to article
11. I think gay activists have eschewed the grass-roots work real change will entail because there's no political capital (or fund-raising empire) to be built from it. But such grassroots work—not court cases or making a would-be president politically beholden—is the only way to obtain the goals gay activists pay lip service to. back to article
12. 10 U.S.C. B654. back to article