A Kinder, Gentler Military:
Good Thesis, Faulty Conclusion
Marian T. Horvat, Ph.D.
Book-review on the work A Kindler, Gentler Military:
How Political Correctness Affects Our Ability to Win Wars, by Stephanie Gutmann
San Francisco: Encounter Books, 2001, 300 pp.
The "War Dogs" platoon, average age 19 and half female, are lined up at Fort Jackson basic training camp beneath the Victory Tower to complete one of the more visually interesting exercises: the trainee makes a Tarzan like-swing on a rope over a short crevice, walks a rope bridge and then skirts across the "rappelling wall," a narrow slab of weathered boards forty feet above the ground. It's not physically dangerous. The point of the exercise is to build confidence, a big priority item of the "New Army."
The Drill Sergeant seems a bit uncomfortable in his new mentor-role as he calls out: "Anybody scared of heights?"
A few girls raise their hands.
His tone becomes less harsh: "It's okay to be afraid of heights… you'll be okay."
The recruits line up to climb the 40-foot-high Tower. Seat harnesses are clipped to the safety line. The exercise begins. A pattern develops.
The boys hardly listen to instructions; instinctively, off they go, often with a certain bravado and energy to spare. Roughly half the girls make it fine through the various paces, but with a serious and methodical approach.
And then there is the other half of the female contingent… One girl is weeping, her mouth quivering. The Drill Sergeant, under strict order not to "abuse the recruits," is supposed to offer encouragement and "build confidence."
"You can do it," he says.
"Will you catch me," pleads the girl who is supposed to swing across the gap on the platform.
"I'm here," he says.
She completes the exercise. "How are you feeling now?" he asks.
"Great, Drill Sergeant!" she squeals in triumph, her self-esteem at a new high and feeling very good about herself, an important priority, it seems, of the New Army.
Later, the sergeant, thinking back to the days of his basic training at the all-male infantryman camp at Fort Benning (Georgia), broods over the lower training standards that have evolved to accommodate women:
Finally, the Drill Sergeant explodes: "This is too easy. I'm leaving. 'Kinder, gentler military!' I'm leaving! I'm sick of this."
That is what is happening more and more in the New Army, it would appear. The going isn't tough, so the tough -- and the best -- get going. Seasoned hard-line sergeants and mid-level career officers are leaving the army in disturbing numbers, dissatisfied with a military culture that has been trivialized and feminized. They simply can't take the military that has become a mouthpiece for sexual equality and the advancement of women's rights.
A kinder, gentler military
"The new boot camp is a product of a changed philosophy, a change in the way society values what is often called the 'warrior culture,'" explains Stephanie Gutmann in her controversial and surprisingly well-received book The Kinder, Gentler Military: How Political Correctness Affects Our Ability to Win Wars. In the late nineties, Gutmann, a journalist who specializes in gender issue topics, went out in the field to look at the "New Military." She visited boot camps, army bases, naval ships; she spoke with officers, sergeants, sailors, airmen, and soldiers.
What she found and reported was a reality being ignored by politically correct politicians and officers: an institution in turmoil. The American Armed Forces, she summarizes, is "struggling with 'reformers' without and within who are trying to expunge their hierarchical, competitive, aggressive and generally masculine character - the kind of character that wins wars."
Today's war council room, where men and women are interchangeable. Not only unrealistic, but impossible, says Gutmann
What has raised a ruckus among feminists and in the Pentagon is where she lays the finger of blame for the "kinder, gentler military" she found: the large numbers of women being admitted to the armed services, which has been systematically remaking itself to accommodate them. Today, in the Army the female presence is 15 percent, and the Navy 12 percent, and the pressure is on recruiters to raise the numbers. Now these women are not nurses, secretaries, and clerks, like the "good old days" of World War II. They are soldiers, mechanics, sailors, airmen, you-name-it. In 1994, laws and policies were changed so that in each of the services today, only a few job categories are still closed to women.
The problem, according to Gutmann, is that it is no longer the policy to find the best man for the job. Instead, what has been does is to change man-size jobs to accommodate women. Double standards have influenced everything from recruiting to basic training graduation to promotion qualifications. Under pressure to meet "mission numbers of gender and race," that is to say, "quotas," women were allowed to come into basic training at dramatically lower fitness levels and then climb lower walls, throw shorter distances and carry lighter packs. The disparities became glaring in the Gulf War, when men in many units took over tearing down tents or loading boxes because most of the women simply couldn't manage these chores or do them as fast. Women who were sent home because they were pregnant before they saw any action were allowed to wear combat patch sleeves and awarded medals.
Good Thesis, Faulty Conclusion
Marian T. Horvat, Ph.D.
Book-review on the work A Kindler, Gentler Military:
How Political Correctness Affects Our Ability to Win Wars, by Stephanie Gutmann
San Francisco: Encounter Books, 2001, 300 pp.
The "War Dogs" platoon, average age 19 and half female, are lined up at Fort Jackson basic training camp beneath the Victory Tower to complete one of the more visually interesting exercises: the trainee makes a Tarzan like-swing on a rope over a short crevice, walks a rope bridge and then skirts across the "rappelling wall," a narrow slab of weathered boards forty feet above the ground. It's not physically dangerous. The point of the exercise is to build confidence, a big priority item of the "New Army."
The Drill Sergeant seems a bit uncomfortable in his new mentor-role as he calls out: "Anybody scared of heights?"
A few girls raise their hands.
His tone becomes less harsh: "It's okay to be afraid of heights… you'll be okay."
The recruits line up to climb the 40-foot-high Tower. Seat harnesses are clipped to the safety line. The exercise begins. A pattern develops.
The boys hardly listen to instructions; instinctively, off they go, often with a certain bravado and energy to spare. Roughly half the girls make it fine through the various paces, but with a serious and methodical approach.
And then there is the other half of the female contingent… One girl is weeping, her mouth quivering. The Drill Sergeant, under strict order not to "abuse the recruits," is supposed to offer encouragement and "build confidence."
"You can do it," he says.
"Will you catch me," pleads the girl who is supposed to swing across the gap on the platform.
"I'm here," he says.
She completes the exercise. "How are you feeling now?" he asks.
"Great, Drill Sergeant!" she squeals in triumph, her self-esteem at a new high and feeling very good about herself, an important priority, it seems, of the New Army.
Later, the sergeant, thinking back to the days of his basic training at the all-male infantryman camp at Fort Benning (Georgia), broods over the lower training standards that have evolved to accommodate women:
• an obstacle course renamed "confidence course" and moved indoors so as not to intimidate women (who balk at crawling through mud on their stomachs);
• dual obstacle courses, the easier ones for women; different standards for women, e.g.,. while men must be able to throw a grenade 35 meters, it suffices for women to toss it over a concrete wall; women get a three-minute grace period to complete the three-mile run;
• "teamwork" is stressed to cover for women who can't perform standard tasks; "ability groups" accommodate those who can't keep up the pace, and training "time-outs" provide for those who are overtired or overstressed;
• recruits are given from day one the honorary title "soldier" (no more "private") to build self-esteem;
• "It's okay to cry" orientation videos and CARE counselors work recruits through stress or sexual harassment;
• "Sensing sessions" deliver feedback about the sensitivity of instructors, and "sexual harassment sensitivity training sessions" are as or more important than physical training and battlefield tactics classes.
Finally, the Drill Sergeant explodes: "This is too easy. I'm leaving. 'Kinder, gentler military!' I'm leaving! I'm sick of this."
That is what is happening more and more in the New Army, it would appear. The going isn't tough, so the tough -- and the best -- get going. Seasoned hard-line sergeants and mid-level career officers are leaving the army in disturbing numbers, dissatisfied with a military culture that has been trivialized and feminized. They simply can't take the military that has become a mouthpiece for sexual equality and the advancement of women's rights.
A kinder, gentler military
"The new boot camp is a product of a changed philosophy, a change in the way society values what is often called the 'warrior culture,'" explains Stephanie Gutmann in her controversial and surprisingly well-received book The Kinder, Gentler Military: How Political Correctness Affects Our Ability to Win Wars. In the late nineties, Gutmann, a journalist who specializes in gender issue topics, went out in the field to look at the "New Military." She visited boot camps, army bases, naval ships; she spoke with officers, sergeants, sailors, airmen, and soldiers.
What she found and reported was a reality being ignored by politically correct politicians and officers: an institution in turmoil. The American Armed Forces, she summarizes, is "struggling with 'reformers' without and within who are trying to expunge their hierarchical, competitive, aggressive and generally masculine character - the kind of character that wins wars."
Today's war council room, where men and women are interchangeable. Not only unrealistic, but impossible, says Gutmann
What has raised a ruckus among feminists and in the Pentagon is where she lays the finger of blame for the "kinder, gentler military" she found: the large numbers of women being admitted to the armed services, which has been systematically remaking itself to accommodate them. Today, in the Army the female presence is 15 percent, and the Navy 12 percent, and the pressure is on recruiters to raise the numbers. Now these women are not nurses, secretaries, and clerks, like the "good old days" of World War II. They are soldiers, mechanics, sailors, airmen, you-name-it. In 1994, laws and policies were changed so that in each of the services today, only a few job categories are still closed to women.
The problem, according to Gutmann, is that it is no longer the policy to find the best man for the job. Instead, what has been does is to change man-size jobs to accommodate women. Double standards have influenced everything from recruiting to basic training graduation to promotion qualifications. Under pressure to meet "mission numbers of gender and race," that is to say, "quotas," women were allowed to come into basic training at dramatically lower fitness levels and then climb lower walls, throw shorter distances and carry lighter packs. The disparities became glaring in the Gulf War, when men in many units took over tearing down tents or loading boxes because most of the women simply couldn't manage these chores or do them as fast. Women who were sent home because they were pregnant before they saw any action were allowed to wear combat patch sleeves and awarded medals.
