Thursday, April 29, 2004

Thoughts on the Draft and Pat Tillman

Along with all the other guys in the dorm I felt trepidation when the envelope came from the Selective Service. The draft lottery randomly ranked each day of the year (from 1 to 365, even American Studies majors could figure that out), and one’s birthday would determine the likelihood of being called up. Although we had college deferments, there was always the chance that the war would get worse and that some of us would have to go, if not now, then when we graduated.

You didn’t want to get a number below 100, from one to three hundred you were progressively less nervous, and above 300 you didn’t have to worry. And my number was……332! I was safe, and the whole issue became moot when the all-volunteer military was instituted shortly thereafter. So I never served nor had to think about what I would do if I were drafted. Acknowledging that stated intentions aren’t worth the disk space they’re stored on—putting it another way, talk is cheap-- I’m fairly sure I would have reported for duty. I’m reluctant to volunteer for anything, but once I’ve committed or have been required to do something I’ve got a pretty good record for seeing it through. For confirmation ask anyone who knows me (just not my wife, please).

There’s been a lot of talk lately about re-instituting the draft. There are obvious benefits: 1) remedying the putative manpower shortage in the armed forces; 2) spreading the sacrifice across all strata in our society, because the burden of the volunteer army, again putatively, falls disproportionately on minorities and the disadvantaged. But many of the proponents are disingenuous: remembering Vietnam, they hope re-instituting the draft will prompt many others to turn against the use of military force. (In my humble opinion, I believe there is widespread aversion to the use of force anyway, so we’re talking about making the threshold even higher.) If the sons and daughters of leaders were forced to be in harm’s way, the thinking goes, we wouldn’t be so quick to pull the trigger. That is undoubtedly true.

If my college-age son were drafted and sent to fight in Iraq, and if I thought the reasons for the war were mistaken, I would do everything—legally—in my power to stop the war and bring him home. But if he, after careful deliberation, voluntarily enlisted under the present system, I would support him in his decision and bite my tongue concerning what I thought about our government’s policies. Many parents of serving sons and daughters may well undergo similar thought processes. Some opponents of the war, therefore, promote the re-institution of the draft as a means of marshalling support for a political argument that they, so far, have been unable to win.

Do we really need to revisit the advantages of a volunteer over a conscripted army? The volunteer military is not only well-trained and experienced, but more importantly, they all chose to be there and as a group are more highly motivated. In our free society we allow individuals as much latitude as possible to make their own decisions, especially in matters of life and death, and the volunteer army is consistent with that value. Once the shooting started, to be sure, a few changed their minds, but in far fewer numbers than would have been resentful or even openly rebelled in a conscripted army.

There is an economic argument as well. The true cost of government is much greater than the money it spends. For example, if my city wants to build a park it can purchase the land from the developer and construct the park: the cost would be shown explicitly in the city’s budget. Instead, in return for granting construction permits, the city makes the developer build the park and donate it to the community. (I happen to love parks and am just pointing out through a simple example how, through its regulatory power, government can achieve its goals while keeping the cost of government hidden.)

When the draft was in effect, government procured the services of draftees at a cost far below their market value, i.e., the price at which individuals would be willing to sell their labor in a non-coercive environment. The draft quite rightly has been called a tax upon the young, who are forced to donate, or at least discount, their services to the government. The volunteer army reflects more accurately the cost to our society because military pay and benefits, by definition, are set at a level sufficient to attract resources from competing uses.

Of course, there are reasons besides money that cause people to join the armed forces. Which leads us to the example of Pat Tillman, the Arizona Cardinals safety who forsook a multi-million dollar contract and an All-Pro career in the National Football League to join the U.S. Army Rangers. Mr. Tillman died in battle earlier this month in Afghanistan. His story has been recounted by dozens of major news outlets, and there is no reason to repeat those chronicles here.

Mr. Tillman did not enlist because military pay and benefits improved his standard of living. Despite his youth Mr. Tillman had already achieved the objects of desire in our secular society—fame, money, and popular admiration--so it is very clear that he acted due to other motivations. Not only did he turn away from all of it—as some do for reasons of family or avocation—he put himself at risk of never being able to go back, because of injury or death, to his past life.

Mr. Tillman did not enlist because he was forced by the Selective Service. If he had been drafted, and died in the service of his country, he would rightly have been honored as a hero, but his ultimate sacrifice would not have struck the chord as loudly as it has today. The voluntary nature of his decision changes the discussion from the “waste” of a young life prematurely cut short—and the parties who must be blamed for that waste—to an examination of the choices he made and why so many of us find them admirable.

Each person has the power to control how his time, talent, and treasure are to be spent in this life. Waste does not exist when they are put to their highest and best use, and Pat Tillman by all accounts believed he was doing just that in the Army Rangers.

Godspeed, Mr. Tillman, and thank you. © 2004 Stephen Yuen

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