Debate concerning U. S. commitments in Southeast Asia ranges all the way from serious political, military, and economic questions to the basic moral and social implications of current policy. One of the more pressing issues that this situation has brought back to national attention touches all of these facets: the Selective Service System in particular and, in a more general sense, the entire question of meeting military manpower requirements.
The problem is far from a new one. The obligation of a citizen for military training and service was argued in the earliest days of our national existence. We also tend to forget the fact that, except for one brief interlude, the United States has chosen to operate a system of compulsory military service for the last quarter of a century. Even though this continuation of national conscription during the period of nominal peace since 1945 is without precedent in our history, it is safe to say that the draft has become an accepted national institution. It is remote, muted, and treated with apathy during the less demanding periods, yet becomes a very controversial subject whenever increasing military needs cause it to affect the lives of greater numbers of young men. The issue can also become quite emotional.
Spectacles of protest demonstrations, draft card burnings, and even the injection of charges of racial inequality in the draft system, have been given more than adequate coverage by the press. Strangely, almost all of the rational written discussion of the problems and shortcomings of selective service, and of feasible alternatives to it, has appeared in popular periodical literature. Those professional military journals which freely explore other significant and timely topics have, for the most part, been silent on this subject.
This raises the question of whether the subject of alternative conscription systems is a proper and rewarding one for professional military discussion. It is submitted that the answer must be in the affirmative for a number of reasons.
The most obvious is that the military officer, in a collective sense, must discharge his responsibilities through the employment of the product of whatever means the nation chooses to supply its military manpower. Regardless of exponential increases in military technology, the human resource is still among the most critical and affects all aspects of military activity. The fact that a congressman has recently written in a very popular national magazine that the draft is “ ... a crutch for the military services, a means of avoiding the development of sounder personnel policies,” should be indicative of a need for professional interest and discussion.
It is important to avoid the mistake of dismissing the draft as a unique problem of the Army. The Navy and Air Force, which take great pride in traditionally volunteer forces, must admit to deriving a direct benefit from the “hot breath” of the draft. Recall also that the Marine Corps found need to resort to the use of some draftees for a short period in both the mid-1950s and 1960s. There is no guarantee that such a situation will not recur.
A second reason is that the issue is at once both timely and timeless. It is current because the Congress must renew or revise the legislation this year. Yet, it is unlikely that the question will be resolved and the debate will end with the current session. Periodic congressional debates have attended each extension of the draft law; some were quite heated and seemed to hold promise for fundamental changes and improvements, but most were rather cursory. Congress has had a distinct tendency to take minor palliative action rather than attempting a true cure for the ills of selective service. As a result, the basic form of the draft law has not changed since 1951. Simple extension of the current law is still a good possibility for this year.
Finally, and perhaps most significant, there is a need for new and imaginative ideas concerning alternatives to selective service. The draft is very easy to criticize, but it is hard to offer constructive proposals for its improvement. The military community, as the “consumer” of the resource in question, and with an intimate knowledge of the requirements, capabilities, and limitations in the training and maintenance of adequate military forces, should be in a good position to lessen the dearth of new thoughts. For this the subject needs more exposure and discussion in military writing.
This is not to imply that selective service is not the best answer to the manpower problem. Even its most virulent critics seldom charge the draft with ineffectiveness. But here, as in all areas of human endeavor, progress requires a continuous search for improvement. It is not generally recognized that in recent history the United States has been progressing steadily, although slowly, toward one of the frequently discussed alternatives to the draft: universal military training. With a hope of generating more discussion of this as well as other alternatives, it is worthwhile to examine the historical basis, prospects, and problems of universal military training (UMT).
Whenever UMT is seriously considered as a possible national policy, the first and most violent objection which is raised is that such would be “totalitarian,” contrary to U. S. principles and traditions, and totally unconscionable in a truly democratic society. A brief review of historical fact will show that a universal obligation for military service is the original American tradition and that we have been moving toward a reiteration and reacceptance of the principle in recent years.
Acceptance of the fact that all able-bodied male citizens have a clear obligation for military service is actually older than our national existence. In colonial times, each of the 13 colonies demanded and vigorously enforced the requirement for universal military service in times of emergency, and for military training at all other times. The compelling statutes varied in detail, but they generally required all white males between the ages of 16 and 50 (or even 60) to be trained in arms. So, in our earliest history, the separate states had universal military training in theory and in practice, but, lacking sufficient central power, the “United” States did not. Each state very jealously guarded its right to provide for its own defense.
This lack of recognized and enforceable central authority was probably the greatest problem which plagued General Washington during the Revolutionary War. His experiences in directing the sparse militia forces which the states grudgingly provided must have had some influence on his later strong support of uniform national military training. At the end of the war he stated his views in a treatise in which he said, in part, “ . . . every citizen who enjoys the protection of a free Government owes not only a proportion of his property, but even of his personal services to the defense of it, and consequently . . . the Citizens of America . . . from 18 to 50 years of age should be borne on the Militia Rolls, provided with uniform Arms, and so far accustomed to the use of them, that the total strength of the Country might be called forth at Short Notice ...” How interesting, in the context of current world affairs, that these words came from the President who enjoined his countrymen to “avoid foreign entanglements.”
As President, Washington called upon the Congress to provide for a uniform and effective militia system, but the individual states were not yet willing to give up their control. In viewing contemporary discussion of the proper organization and role of the National Guard forces, it is possible to wonder if certain things have changed very much in almost two centuries.
Other early supporters of an effective and universal militia system included Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison. Both Jefferson and Madison, when president, urged a well-organized national militia in essentially the same manner as advocated by Washington. Both were equally unsuccessful in convincing Congress and overcoming state prerogatives. Even the obvious lessons and sad military spectacles of the War of 1812 did not change the situation.
The problem was a minor one during the balance of the 19th century. The nation became preoccupied with continental expansion; favorable geographic isolation and relative international tranquility of the period permitted the question of national military forces to be largely ignored. Even though the United States was involved in almost 100 distinct and identifiable “wars” (mostly Indian campaigns), they were small and easily consummated with small volunteer forces. The notable exception, of course, was the great upheaval of the Civil War, during which true national conscription first took place and demonstrated almost every possible fault that could occur in a compulsory system. But the war was only another interlude; the lesson that volunteer forces could not be relied on to be quickly available for large scale or long term conflicts was again forgotten as soon as the fighting stopped.
All the while, up to and including World War I, legal recognition of the concept of the universal obligation for military training and availability for service existed. The Militia Act of 1792 (a sterile law, but one which endured for 111 years), the Militia Act of 1903, and the National Defense Act of 1916 provided, in uninterrupted sequence, a statutory affirmation of such an obligation. But these laws were merely stated ideals rather than effectively implemented measures.
Thus, from the earliest history of our country to the time of World War I, the tradition of a recognized military service obligation for all men did not die, but it certainly became weaker. As the frontiers moved inland, the population grew, and the prosperity and ease of living increased, selection for and/or avoidance of military duty gradually replaced the acceptance of universality.
To emphasize: universal military training and service, rather than abhorrence of it, is the true and the original American tradition.
With the emergence of the United States as a mature world power and her major role in the unsettled state of world affairs, this century has witnessed a reversal of the trend away from the concept of universal military service and a gradual movement back toward it.
The idea of implementing the traditional universal service concept was given passing thought at various times subsequent to World War I, but no serious support was forthcoming. For example, the National Defense Act of 1920 was originally introduced with a provision for a form of UMT, but was enacted without that part. Since the close of World War II, however, a great number of proposals for instituting UMT have been introduced in Congress, the first at the very time postwar demobilization was proceeding at full speed. At two specific times the nation has appeared to move significantly closer to having a true program of UMT, and once seemed on the verge of effective implementation.
In late 1946, President Harry S. Truman appointed an advisory commission of nine civilians prominent in such fields as education, religion, industry, labor, and public affairs to study the entire question of universal training. The Compton Commission’s report of May 1947, entitled “A Program for National Security,” stated in its letter of transmittal to the President: “Out of these studies we have come to a clear, unanimous, and strong conviction about the course which our country should follow in respect to universal training in the foreseeable future. We recommend this course as a wise and prudent investment in American security, Liberty and prosperity.”
The following year the Congress considered in detail the administration’s proposal for combined UMT and re-enactment of the draft (which had expired), but deferred from the UMT portion and enacted basically the same selective service legislation as it had in 1940. Even so, the Selective Service Act of 1948 was significant in that it provided for peacetime conscription for the second time in a decade, and this time without any apparent gathering clouds of war. It was a step, even if a small one, in the direction of UMT.
Congress was again in the process of debating UMT when the Korean conflict erupted in 1950. Almost immediately it deferred the pending legislation and took the expedient of simply extending the draft for another year. But deliberations continued through the following year and ultimately resulted in a brand new law: the Universal Military Training and Service Act of 1951. Now the country had “UMT” in the title of a national law; but just exactly what did this mean?
First, the act extended the provisions for operation of selective service. Concerning UMT, the law provided for a “National Security Training Commission” and a “National Security Training Corps.” The Commission, to be comprised of three civilian and two active or retired military members, was to have two broad tasks: (1) to submit to Congress an outline for a specific UMT program, and (2) if the program was approved, to exercise general supervision over the Training Corps. Commencement of induction into the Training Corps was not to be permitted until Congress had approved the Commission’s plan.
The members of the National Security Training Commission were appointed by the President on the very day he signed the act into law. On 19 June 1951, the United States was closer to a national program of universal military training than it had ever been. But it has not come any closer since. In fact, a slight retrenchment has taken place in view of the failure of translation of the 1951 law into effective action.
The Commission reported its plan to Congress in October 1951, and implementing legislation was introduced in the next session. Heated debate followed and the death warrant of the National Security Training Corps was executed in March 1952, when the bill was recommitted by the House. The Commission continued to function under the Eisenhower administration, but with a shift in emphasis toward promotion of a more effective reserve training program. It, too, died, by its own recommendation, in 1957.
It is reasonable to conclude that public acceptance of the idea of UMT grew significantly between World War II and the Korean conflict, but not quite enough to result in complete and positive action. The concept stumbled on the questions of the specific features and probable costs of such a program. The debate, at that time, had moved away from the “if?” question and was struggling with “how?” and “how much?” Then it again lost public attention.
Attempts to revive the National Security Training Corps, as well as other types of I1MT proposals, have been considered by Congress from time to time since 1952, but there has been no further progress in that direction. The Congress has always taken the path of least resistance by simply extending selective service as the law approached expiration. But, if the Korean situation provided the impetus to get as close to universal training as it did, can the present prospects of a long-term involvement in Vietnam move us the extra step to actual implementation? If so, the lapse of time since the last big step toward UMT requires that the serious “if?” question again be successfully resolved in the national forum at the same time the ones of “how?” and “how much?” are decided.
The fact that we have been moving in the direction of adopting UMT since World War II does not necessarily mean that it is the ultimate system, or even an acceptable one in the current environment. Evaluation of the prospects and potential benefits of UMT must be based upon two major considerations: the requirements and standards for any effective military manpower policy, and comparison with other available alternatives.
Various statements of the requirements to be met by military and national manpower policies have been made by congressional leaders and other interested individuals and groups. These have varied in detail and emphasis, but the following simplified list includes all of the generally accepted criteria:
Over-all national security considerations are paramount. Military manpower requirements cannot be viewed in isolation, but must be considered within the context of national manpower resources and needs. In addition to insuring an adequate and properly trained military force to meet world-wide commitments, national policy should allow for the concurrent maintenance of sufficient numbers of professional and skilled personnel in all fields that are vital to the national interest.
A system must be flexible, in both quantitative and qualitative terms. It should be possible to change the numbers of active military personnel to match changing situations, yet it is vital that military training and skills keep pace with advancing technology. Implicit in this requirement is the need for an unquestionably trained and ready reserve force of proper size and composition.
Maximum possible economy of financial, material, and personnel resources is required. There can no longer be much doubt that the price of national security will continue to be high in the modern world, but this does not justify a “blank check” for security needs at the expense of other national endeavors.
Selection for involuntary military service must be as equitable as possible, consistent with other objectives. If conscription is necessary, disruption of personal career preferences is almost inevitable, but should be minimized as much as possible.
A final objective, but by no means the least important: acceptability of any policy to a national majority is an absolute requirement; it cannot be otherwise in a free society.
The assessment of alternatives within the framework of these standards should begin with the present system. Selective service is quite effectively serving most of the objectives. Basic classification and deferment policies, combined with the individual determinations made by the local boards which are best able to evaluate local conditions and personal problems, have always given due regard to other than strictly military requirements; the ability of the system to meet rapidly fluctuating needs for inductees is superb, and is a matter of record; since only the number of men actually needed are called, the system is basically economical; and, in view of the fact that the draft has been continued for over 25 years, some public approval must exist.
Regarding the acceptability of selective service, until such time as Congress responds to public pressure by modifying the current system (or eliminating any form of compulsory service) it must be assumed that objections which are heard represent only a minority dissent, albeit a vociferous one. Note that the extension of the law in 1959 was accomplished with only one dissenting vote. Does this illustrate a simple case of inertia, or apathy, or is selective service still the most acceptable method?
Criticism of the draft is being discussed in the public press to the extent that it need not be enumerated in detail here. Suffice it to say that the system is charged with being discriminatory, inconsistent, uncertain, and disruptive. All of the strong arguments in opposition to the draft may be summed up as personal inequity in the application of the system. The basic answer is, of course, that selective service was meant to be, and is, selective. But regardless, here is another standard against which to measure and judge the suitability of alternative methods: in order for any military manpower system to be preferable to selective service, it must be more equitable and, at the same time, meet other requirements as well as the draft now does, or render significant advantages not now being realized.
Briefly then, what are the alternatives, other than UMT? There are really only two which are seriously being discussed—doing away with compulsory service entirely, or modifying selective service procedures to improve the equity.
Without question an all-volunteer force would provide the most highly skilled and thoroughly professional military establishment. But, could a force of sufficient size be maintained in this manner? There is little argument that, without the draft, voluntary enlistments and junior officer accessions would be much lower than they have been, and would probably be inadequate for current requirements. It has been suggested that increasing monetary and other incentives for military careers might make this a suitable method. As appealing as this idea may be, it raises the spectre of cost. Estimates are hard to make, but some of the guesses range as high as 20 billion dollars per year for the wider career attractions which would be needed. There is the further suggestion that forthcoming increases in the number of men reaching military age each year may allow for meeting requirements with all volunteers. This is obviously a rather risky proposition.
But the single overriding defect in the concept of a totally volunteer system is its almost complete inflexibility. Without at least stand-by conscription (and that is really what we have had for most of the time since World War II), there would be no satisfactory way of expanding forces rapidly enough in emergencies. Furthermore, an adequately trained and viable reserve force would be an impossibility.
Proposals for modifying selective service include tightening up on student and occupational deferments and lowering induction standards in order to expand the manpower pool from which inductees are drawn. It is alleged that such steps improve the fairness of the system. Both actions have, in fact, been at least partially effected in recent months, and the prospect is for more of the same if the draft legislation is not changed and the present military situation continues.
As such actions become more prevalent, however, doubt begins to arise as to whether the primary objective of best serving over-all national security requirements is not being compromised solely to solve the military manpower problem. The Army’s experience with low-category personnel has usually been disappointing. And there is also the question of how much of the resources of the military establishment can be diverted to the task of mental and physical rehabilitation of draftees without seriously jeopardizing the combat readiness of the armed forces. These are, at best, elusive questions, and they also rear up when UMT is considered.
One proposal for minor modification of current procedures which has some fairly influential advocates, and has some chance of becoming a reality, is the use of a lottery system—substituting the drawing of numbers assigned to all physically and mentally qualified men of induction age, regardless of their educational, occupational or dependency status, for the present methods of classification and selection. This, of course, was the method used at the very beginning of selective service in 1940.
Here, again, the same question of best serving the over-all national manpower requirements comes up. The very first time a single exception is made to the result of a lottery drawing for any occupational or personal reason, the system is headed right back to a selective method. And this is not a rational answer to the problem. Management science has yet to advocate the use of dice in making difficult decisions. The succinct comment of one congressman is most appropriate. He said that a lottery would be “ . . . substitution of chance for judgement in an area where we need much more wisdom than we have.”
UMT would solve the problem of equity in a conscription system; if everyone must serve, then none can ask “Why me?” But it would not be a pure and unadulterated blessing. Effective implementation would require the resolution of a number of serious questions. And it has not yet been established that UMT would best serve even the very general requirements stated earlier. As a means of evaluating the suitability and feasibility of UMT as a national policy, some general questions may be posed. This list is not exhaustive, but these are among the most significant questions:
Which is preferable, universal military training or universal military service? This is more than just a semantic distinction. Most contemporary proposals, including those of the Compton Commission in 1947 and the Congress in providing for the National Security Training Corps in the 1951 act, have envisioned training—the enrollees would not serve in the armed forces as such, but would belong to some sort of a training organization or corps. It would certainly be possible to conduct UMT wholly within the military establishment, and have the trainees serve as well as train (including overseas or even in combat if necessary), but this would involve yet another step beyond those tentative ones which have been taken and proposed in the direction of UMT.
How universal can “universal” training be? The idea of universality is a nice tidy generality, but practical application might be another matter. Here, again, if significant exceptions are made, we move right back toward a selective method of compulsory training or service.
At what age should the training take place, and what should be its duration? Age 18, or completion of high school seems to be the most logical time in order to minimize personal disruption; almost all proposals have envisioned training to take place at that time. And there may be another benefit here. A noted educator has suggested that an “educational moratorium” might be a good thing about this age. He says, “ . . . between a third and a half of them would benefit greatly from some sort of a seasoning and maturing experience between high school and college.” He does not go so far as to advocate military training as the best means for maturing, but the possibilities are intriguing. One year of training seems to be the maximum that is ever considered, and it is the commonly proposed duration. The question of the adequacy of one year leads to the next question.
Could adequate and effective training be accomplished in a UMT program and, if so, how should it be conducted? The first part of this points to another frequent argument against UMT: that the old militia concept was fine when the farmer could just reach up over the fireplace for his musket and march off to war as an effective weapons system in himself, but that modern technology renders this concept impractical. This may be one of the most serious questions concerning UMT, but the musket argument implies that people cannot be of any value today without years of complex training. It would seem that the need for large scale employment of draftees in both Korea and Vietnam provides fairly good evidence that such is not always the case. Six months of basic military training, plus an added half- year of specialty training, might not be adequate for operational activity in all military skills, but it would be sufficient for most. If that level of training was combined with two weeks of active duty for training each year during a five- or six-year residual ready reserve obligation for the purpose of maintaining and updating skills, it would certainly provide a good basis for a flexible military manpower pool. The “how” part of the training question is admittedly a knotty problem, but that does not mean it is insoluble.
A related issue comes up here: should UMT be strictly Army training, or should the requirements and skills peculiar to the other services be incorporated? It will be recalled that the Navy’s brief experience with draftees in recent years indicated that their quality was something less than satisfactory. Thus, it can be argued that while a UMT program might be fine for training basic infantrymen, the higher skill levels within the Army, and almost all within the Navy and Air Force, could not be properly served by UMT inputs. If training in the specialties of all of the military services were included in the program, how would the trainees be allocated among them? Would it be feasible to make such allocation on the basis of relative skill level requirements?
What would be required in terms of facilities and personnel to establish and operate a UMT program? Even aside from costs, it would appear that the simple logistics might be staggering. Added facilities would be needed whether the program was conducted within the services or by a special training corps. A number of ancillary questions come up here too: Could the armed forces be used to conduct UMT without degrading their primary military effectiveness? Will timing of entry into the program be critical, i.e., could any system handle the huge inputs of young men each summer after high school graduation? Would it be feasible to distribute entry throughout the year without causing undue personal disruption? What would be the impact on other segments of the nation? For example, if a program was started on a full-scale basis in one year, would there be one college class year simply missing from the scene? It is clear that these are all serious questions which will require imaginative and perhaps radically new answers, if UMT ever becomes a reality.
What would be the impact on voluntary entry into the regular military forces? Depending on the specific details of a UMT program, this could be turned to a big plus factor for the regular forces.
How would UMT affect the reserve forces? The options for a better, more flexible reserve would probably be enhanced. After a few years of UMT the nation would have an immense pool of basically trained military manpower; how it was handled would be critical in determining its effectiveness.
Would any benefits other than adequacy and flexibility of military manpower resources accrue from UMT? A number of possibilities come to mind.
It is a well known fact that many men obtain initial training in: transferable skills during military service. If UMT included a segment of advanced technical or specialty training it might do much to improve national skill levels—an economic and social as well as military benefit. Also, the extensive education and training base possessed by the military services could be put to good national use in remedial education if lower category personnel were included in the program. The training period could similarly serve to help in improving the level of physical wellbeing and skills. The obvious counter-question here is whether these are legitimate responsibilities and functions of government, or the military services in particular.
Another thought often heard is that, aside from all other benefits, a year of military training would just be “good” for all young men. In a published proposal for UMT, General Dwight D. Eisenhower has said that it “ . . . could do much to stem the growing tide of irresponsible behavior and outright crime,” and that it would improve the “attitude toward country.” Of course the opposite view is also taken by some—that military training or service may be “bad” for many young men from a spiritual or moral point of view.
The important point is that there are both national and individual benefits which might “spin off” from UMT; they should be considered and balanced with the other factors.
What would be the financial cost of UMT? This is obviously the big question, but its answer must depend in great measure on specific provisions. Cost in terms of all resources would undoubtedly be high, but not necessarily prohibitive, and perhaps well worth the benefits derived. A significant subsidiary question relates to the compensation of trainees. If pay and benefits were identical to those provided regular servicemen, the costs might be prohibitive. Most proposals for UMT consider only a stipend for the trainee, with no residual benefits. This can be important for two reasons: total cost, and maintenance of the relative attractiveness of regular military career benefits.
In total, the above questions present the single substantive issue: can a workable and acceptable system of universal military training be designed and, if so, is it justifiable on the bases of military and national necessity and superiority to the current system of selective service? Equally important, would it be worth the cost in comparison to other available alternatives?
Any discussion of UMT would not really be complete without at least passing mention of another possibility which carries the concept of universal obligation a step further, and which has received added attention in recent months: that which is usually called “national service.” The idea here is that either military or certain substitute activities could serve to discharge the individual’s obligation for service to his country. What the alternative to military service would be has never been clearly spelled out, but it is generally accepted that they would include such constructive endeavors as the Peace Corps, Vista, and other public service activities at all government levels.
Secretary Robert S. McNamara reopened the door on this idea in his now famous speech of May, 1966, in which he suggested that every young person in the United States might well be “asked” to give one or two years of service to his (and the construction of his statement leaves some doubt as to whether he also meant “her”) country. But, as with UMT, this concept is also not brand new. President Franklin D. Roosevelt discussed national service in the years just before his death. And President Truman, as he gave the impetus to developing UMT, frequently expressed the opinion that “military” might best be left out of UMT, i.e., that truly national service might be preferable.
Perhaps UMT and national service are not really significantly different in basic concept, but the idea of national service is much more likely to founder on the question of public approval and acceptance. Words such as “totalitarian,” “unconstitutional” and “paternalistic” occur more frequently in discussion of Secretary McNamara’s reference to such a plan than they do with regard to UMT. There appears to be a clear distinction in some attitudes toward universal military versus universal national service. For example, in a recent national magazine article in which he strongly advocated a plan for UMT, General Eisenhower said with regard to compulsory national service, “We want no semblance of forced labor in America.” Perhaps this distinction is not too clear, and the possibilities of a national service plan cannot be lightly discarded, but it is fairly safe to say that the country is not quite ready for this advanced concept.
The prospects for UMT may not be quite so remote. Universal military training has had many responsible advocates in recent history. Presidents Roosevelt, Truman, and Eisenhower all felt that UMT was a proper policy for the United States to undertake. General George C. Marshall testified before a committee of the House of Representatives at the end of World War II, “You will have to frankly face two things, either universal military training or the hope—and that’s all—- that you will have a year to get ready, if another war comes.” Admiral Ernest King said to the same committee, “As a citizen and a taxpayer, as well as a naval officer of over forty years’ service, I emphasize the democratic nature of universal military service. I believe that every man and woman is obligated to assist in the maintenance of our national security.”
Are these thoughts relics of the past, or do they apply today?
It cannot be said that UMT, or in fact any national conscription plan, is the single issue or a panacea for security problems. The Compton Commission expressed this rather well when they wrote, “We do not wish to exaggerate the benefits that would be derived from the establishment of a universal training program. It offers no cheap or easy ticket to security.” They said that UMT would properly contribute “. . . only when combined with other elements that enter into a balanced security system ...” But the military manpower element is a vital one. Current criticism and debate over selective service is a national groping for a better answer to satisfy that part of our security system. Universal military training may be the answer and should be further explored and discussed.
The military forum is a good place for a major part of such discussion. More of the experts should participate in this debate.