An Officer, Not A Gentleman

In the popular idiom of the military world, men are men and women are "young ladies." That is, until the men get into trouble for sexually harassing their female colleagues. Then the men are "boys being boys." And the women? Those who deflect sexual advances risk being labeled by some men as lesbians, a threat that can cost a woman her military career. Those who dare to complain are often branded as "too soft." Such is the backdrop against which women in the armed forces must determine whether it is worth registering a complaint when a male colleague steps out of line. Although a 1990 Pentagon study found that fully two-thirds of U.S. servicewomen have been sexually harassed by male military personnel, few file complaints. The social and professional costs, it would seem, are often too high.

Seen in that light, the revelations about lewd shenanigans at the Tailhook convention of Navy and Marine aviators last September, which have already cost Navy Secretary H. Lawrence Garrett III his job, may be a blessing in disguise. Much as race riots in 1972 led to racial reforms within the Navy, the Tailhook debacle is prompting a serious campaign to stamp out sexual harassment. Acting Navy Secretary Daniel Howard last week ordered a service-wide stand-down so that all personnel can devote a full day to sexual-harassment training. And on Capitol Hill four women recounted tales of sexual harassment to a Senate panel. Jacqueline Ortiz, an Army reservist, told of being "forcibly sodomized" by Sergeant David Martinez while serving in Saudi Arabia during Desert Storm. When she reported the attack to her superiors, she was ignored. Last week the Army belatedly charged Martinez with sexual assault.

The Pentagon brass is now vocally hell-bent for reform. "Perhaps we can't change your attitude," Army Brigadier General Thomas Jones told TIME, "but we can darn well change your conduct." Perhaps not fast enough. The dominant attitude among naval aviators seems to be that it is not possible to be both an officer and a gentleman. "Subjecting these guys to classes in sexual harassment is like telling them not to smoke or drink," explains Charles Moskos, a military sociologist at Northwestern University. "You can't oversocialize them because that might even drive out the best pilots." Some Pentagon officials fret (anonymously, of course) that curbing Navy pilots' sexual feistiness will remove the edge they need for combat. Democrat Patricia Schroeder, a member of the House Armed Services Committee, responds, "It's possible to be brave and still repress your roaring testosterone."

Such problems are hardly unique to the Navy. According to the 1990 Pentagon study, a higher percentage of women in the Army and Marine Corps suffer sexual harassment, whether it be demeaning jokes or violent sexual attacks. Moreover, the Navy has been progressive on some fronts: it had the first woman pilot and astronaut, and has named five female admirals. The Air Force, however, shines by comparison; 97% of its jobs are open to women, as compared with 59% in the Navy. In the Air Force culture, all worship at the altar of technology; she who understands the newest toys largely need not fear harassment.