The American public consistently ranks our military at the very top of the nation's major professions and institutions in terms of trust and confidence, a position earned by more than two centuries of high ethical behavior and strict standards of accountability imposed on those few who transgress.
For the same reason, the four military academies (along with a small number of private institutions with a strong military orientation) have a special place in the public's mind. To be sure, the portrayal of a near-perfect moral and ethical atmosphere is an important, unique differentiator during the highly competitive annual quest by those schools for the very best candidates.
Each year, they accept a total of about 4,000 of this nation's finest young men and women and, in an intense atmosphere, confront them simultaneously with a demanding military indoctrination and academic challenge.
Entrants arrive each summer with their own individual established characters. Highly motivated, they embark on the rigorous routine of midshipmen or cadets. Training and studying from early morning to late at night, they are transformed from civilians to proud members of an elite military organization in an astounding two-month metamorphosis.
They learn how to march and drill . . . and they learn the proud history and traditions of their service. They are introduced to discipline, regulations, and an honor code. Discipline is a broad, dynamic principle of any military unit, and involves far more than the stereotypical "blind obedience to orders" sometimes used by critics intent on discrediting the military. Regulations, on the other hand, guide them in their daily routine within the military organization.
But what about the honor code? That short phrase that states the obvious: that anyone who lies, cheats, steals, or otherwise attempts to deceive is unworthy to remain in the group. What could be more straightforward?
How, then, can it be that violations by large numbers of our nation's finest over the years have occurred not during the first few transition months as they adapt to a new life, but long after they have been accepted into the group and, in some cases, have earned positions of leadership within the corps?
What has gone wrong? Where do we apply the corrections? Of course, we can always find someone to "hang" for letting things slip, conduct a quick study that validates the code, and then go about our business for another decade—confident that the code has been fixed.
Anyone associated with the administration of any of the academies soon learns that the "old grad" solution is invariably more stringent, wishing that less flexible standards of conduct be applied to ever-younger people.
A typical view, perhaps the most common, of what it takes to put things right includes the following:
- An honor code must be strict, strictly enforced, and based on a zero-defect goal.
- Despite diverse backgrounds, young men and women voluntarily brought together by a common goal can and should be treated as homogeneous parts of a whole.
- An intense, high-pressure academic environment offers an excellent opportunity for testing an individual's adherence to the honor code, particularly as it pertains to cheating.
- Those who are living by the code are best qualified to judge the severity of infractions by their contemporaries and determine the punishment, but always with the first principle as the single, unchallengeable precept.
Much of this might have been appropriate 30 or more years ago, but it falls woefully short today, when young officers must be far more skilled as leaders than the junior officers of the pre-1960s. Understanding and appreciating the concept of honor is required of all who would lead others, and is directly dependent upon one's own personal experience and stage of maturity. While all candidates achieve parity of authority and responsibility when commissioned, the four years spent at an academy afford an unparalleled opportunity to nurture the moral and ethical standards of the students. To delegate that task primarily to the student body is largely to ignore or waste the chance.
We must consider honor from a broader perspective. Except immediately following those infrequent episodes of cheating, how much effort is expended to develop the nascent apprentices' perception of honor? What tangible evidence to include this vital aspect in the students' education can be found? For example, are all members of the military faculty and staff selected for tours of duty at the academy primarily because they personify the high standards we want all graduates to emulate? Do all members of the permanent faculty and staff, civilian as well as military, realize that their conduct and approach to duty are on parade every day as part of students' total experience?
The cost associated with the education and training at our academies is considerable. The value of the total experience must prove to be well worth the price. There are no academy courses that could not be duplicated at a civilian institution. There is no civilian institution, however— other than the ones alluded to—that even comes close to duplicating the conditions of discipline and responsibility that exist at the military academies. You have to go to class and you have to shine your shoes, for starters. But you also have to tell the truth because you are being groomed to enter a profession in which lives—not dollars—will depend on your integrity.
At what point is a midshipman expected to have achieved that high sense of honor deemed essential for an ensign? How does that ensign's sense of honor, at that point, compare to those who have a few more crows feet around their eyes and scrambled eggs on their visors?
Is it reasonable to have a strict honor code applicable to college-age youths with totally diverse backgrounds—but then have only a general, unstated expectation for a "nicer sense of duty" from those same individuals once commissioned and serving? Does anyone think that the Uniform Code of Military Justice functions as a tool for raising the standards of honorable conduct, or even heightens the awareness among those subject to it?
An individual's personal standards of ethical and moral behavior—integrity—and acceptance of responsibility for his own action or inaction—accountability—will define his sense of honor. Only the consistent demonstration of a high degree of integrity, coupled with a sincere, forthright acceptance of personal accountability, will meet the high standards of our officer corps.
Admiral Thorsen, a distinguished Coast Guard aviator, graduated from the U.S. Coast Guard Academy in 1955, taught there 1969-1972, and was the Commandant of Cadets 1980 to 1983.