By Kevin D. Williamson
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Defense spending is simply irresistible, in the sense
that it has the Pentagon and Congress singing a line from that wretched old
Robert Palmer chestnut: “There’s no telling where the money went.”
The money, or the “small arms, ammunition, night-vision
goggles, patrol boats, vehicles, and other supplies,” either — as the Washington Post reports, cataloging
the gear that the Defense Department sends to Yemen that it no longer can
account for and that almost certainly is headed into the arsenals of the Osama
bin Laden Fan Club or friends of the atomic ayatollahs.
Our old friend Anonymous Legislative Aide — it wouldn’t
be happy hour without him –explains: “We have to assume it’s completely
compromised and gone.”
If that’s the way the military-industrial complex is
going to treat its toys, it doesn’t deserve to have any.
Three cheers for the sequester.
On the matter of military spending, the federal
government calls to mind one of those bad stewards who figure so prominently in
the New Testament: “He that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much.”
When you think about those hundreds of trillions of dollars in unfunded
entitlement liabilities, you might be tempted to roll your eyes at relatively
picayune examples of government waste, but consider that the perks that go
along with being an admiral or general — the private jets, the chefs, the
entourages — cost taxpayers around $1 million a year per flag officer, which is
no small thing when you have about a thousand of them. We have an army of
generals and more admirals than battleships.
Does the Pentagon spend its money wisely? Nobody knows —
especially not the Pentagon. It has a long and inglorious history of
book-cooking and accounting that alternates between the incompetent and the
criminal: a half a trillion dollars in unaudited contracts here; untold sums
lost to outright theft and fraud there; shocking waste; voguish nonsense like
spending $150/gallon for environmentally friendly fighter-jet fuel so that we
can blow stuff to smithereens and kill people in an environmentally responsible
fashion, etc.
Add to all that a $1 billion per annum undersecretariat
charged with managing a feel-good fiefdom that includes both an Office of
Diversity Management and Equal Opportunity — so that no Navy SEAL gets his
feelings hurt for lack of sensitivity training — and a Defense Equal
Opportunity Management Institute, which is an entire school in Florida
dedicated to “intercultural communication,” gender sensitivity, and the like.
It also has one of those stupid reverse acronyms: “Respect,” “Excellence,”
“Awareness,” etc., spelling out “Readiness,” which kind of makes me want to
join Boko Haram. The “D,” you will have guessed, stands for “Diversity,” here
defined as “an understanding that our strengths derive from our differences as
well as our shared values, goals, and ethics.” A commander of people with
identical haircuts, arranged in ranks, wearing what are, lest we forget, known
as uniforms wants you to know that our strengths derive from our differences.
There’s billions and billions and billions of dollars of
that — and that is the small stuff.
The big stuff is strategic. Or not exactly strategic:
Benjamin Friedman of Cato makes a compelling case that what we have does not
quite deserve to be called a “strategy,” inasmuch as a strategy requires the
intelligent and deliberate ranking of priorities, a project that we pretty much
categorically refuse to engage in, instead indulging in threat inflation
spurred by what he calls an “overly capacious definition of security.”
Which is to say, our definition of “security” is driven
not by actual threats but by hope, a naïve belief that every good thing in the
world that might be accomplished with the assistance of the U.S. military
brings with it goodwill and therefore contributes to our security. If you are
going to use the military to install large-screen televisions at (now
abandoned) Ebola clinics in Liberia, you are going to pay for it. Ebola
containment is on the reasonably sensible side of things. Sending in the
cavalry — not the metaphorical cavalry but the literal (literal, Mr. Vice
President!) cavalry is something you do when there’s a fight on; somebody else
can hand out schoolbooks.
Presumably, we could send in special forces to fix Kim
Jong-un’s weird hipster haircut and call that a contribution to national security,
if he liked the new ’do.
But those guys are there to give haircuts of a different
kind.
There are people in this world who need killing and stuff
that needs blowing to smithereens, and giving our soldiers the best weapons and
equipment is the right thing to do. And there is wisdom in the argument that
maintaining an overwhelmingly superior fighting force (provided there exists
the political will to use it) is probably less expensive in the long run than
failing to do so. The presence of such a fighting force is the reason the
people who attack the United States in the 21st century are not nation-states
but members of a death cult with nothing to lose. If you have something to
lose, you don’t poke that bear.
But that doesn’t mean that everything the military does
needs doing, or that the money it spends on doing what actually does need doing
is well spent. Republicans are looking to lift the military half of the
sequester in the hopes of shunting a few hundred billion dollars more into the
gazillion-dollar stream of appropriations that flows through the war-fighting
apparatus. The Democrats’ alternative is lifting both sides of the sequester.
Until somebody can explain why we’re mothballing ships
while minting admirals, the sequester should stay — every last farthing of it.
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