Discomfort or honor

I haven't seen an argument against openly gay people serving in the military that doesn't boil down to, "It will make some straight soldiers uncomfortable."

As one who has never served in the military, I was willing to accept that the unique conditions of military life might make such discomfort a real morale problem. (Not that I know what those unique conditions might be; I just accepted that they exist.)

Then I read this, from an article reporting that gay soldiers have been cautioned not to out themselves in the aftermath of a federal judge's order that the military should stop enforcing the "don't ask, don't tell" policy. A closeted soldier, after remarking that he thinks the ban will eventually be lifted, added:

"The day that that does happen, then that's when I'll walk out of the darkness and say, 'This is who I am. I've been serving my country for seven years, and I've done it just fine — being who I am,'" said the 23-year-old, who returned last weekend from a nine-month tour in Iraq. "I just want to shout out to America to open your eyes and know we DO serve America. We DO fight for your freedom."

That's when it hit me. That's when I realized what "don't ask, don't tell" does.

If you are open about who you are, your accomplishments don't matter, your abilities don't matter, your dedication doesn't matter, your patriotism doesn't matter. All that matters is the presumed unease of somebody else in your platoon, or division, or service. Nobody even needs to admit to being uncomfortable.

As a nation, we weighed discomfort against honor -- and we deemed discomfort more important.

That decision was indefensible.

"Don't ask, don't tell" is wrong. It has to go.