By Karl Marlantes
Sunday, February 01, 2026
When I was a boy, I dressed up and pretended to be a
soldier. Then I grew up. As a Marine in Vietnam, I recognized that pretend is
okay for innocent little boys, but wearing combat uniforms in the grown-up
world is deadly serious.
Over the years, I have uneasily watched the increasing
adoption of combat uniforms by law enforcement. This includes Immigration and
Customs Enforcement (ICE) and Customs and Border Protection (CBP) officers and
their leaders, who in Minnesota and other regions go around dressed like
Marines about to invade Fallujah. A number of factors surely contributed to the
recent killings of two Americans by federal immigration agents in Minneapolis,
but the warrior aesthetic these forces have adopted should not be overlooked
for its potential role in heightening tensions. Dressing up like a warrior
going into combat can make one behave more like one. What people wear
can have psychological effects.
This is not speculation. One 2012 journal article described experiments comparing the performance of
identical tasks by people dressed in white lab coats and those dressed in their
own clothes. Those in white coats outperformed those without, and the
difference was statistically significant. In a second experiment, one group was
told its white coats were doctors’ coats, and a second group was told its coats
were painters’ coats. Those believing they wore doctors’ coats outperformed
those who believed they wore painters’ coats, again by a statistically
significant difference. These experiments were repeated with one group only
writing or talking about the white coats versus a group actually wearing them.
Again, those who wore the clothing performed significantly better than those
who did not.
These experiments show that what we wear becomes part of
the cognitive system that shapes how we think, feel, and act. This should be no
surprise: When you wear a suit to work instead of jeans, you act more
confident, maybe walk a little taller. In short, if you cosplay as a warrior,
you are far more likely to behave as a warrior, not a law enforcement officer,
when confronted by protesters or attempting to enter someone’s home.
Such differences in uniforms may seem trivial, but that
largely assumes that the job of a warrior is roughly the same as the job of a
police officer. They are vastly different, and this is not trivial. A warrior
might see suspected illegal immigrants or protesters as enemies, whereas a law
enforcement officer should not. The warrior mentality can risk the lives of
everyone — on both sides — involved in an arrest or demonstration.
I define the distinction as follows: Warriors fight for a
side, but police, while willing to inflict and risk violence, operate on behalf
of the law.
Yet we’ve seen wardrobes evolve over the years that look
more suited for the battlefield than for patrolling the streets. What we see in
Minneapolis would be unrecognizable to a Border Patrol officer from the 1980s
and 1990s. In those years, Border Patrol officers wore green shirts and
trousers with recognizable patches and badges. Similarly, before ICE was formed
as part of Homeland Security in 2002, its predecessor agency, U.S. Immigration
and Naturalization (INS), wore dark trousers and button-down shirts. The
uniforms were identifiable, easy to recognize, and professional. But today’s
law enforcement uniforms increasingly look combat-ready.
Ever since the Vietnam War, even our military has
increasingly worn combat uniforms inappropriately. Several years ago, I went
for breakfast in a hotel near the Pentagon. Upon entering the dining room for
breakfast, I could have sworn I was at a forward operating base in Afghanistan.
People from all military branches were dressed in camouflage uniforms and
combat boots. I’m going to guess that the reason had something to do with
cachet and symbolism. We’re all warriors here. We’re tough. We’re ready to
go. I have no problem with anything that improves morale and fighting
spirit in our military. It’s just that at some point, even for our military,
dressing for combat to work in an office at the Pentagon became silly.
It is ironic that while ICE and CBP are mimicking our
military’s combat dress in noncombat situations, our military is starting to
tone down the combat look when it isn’t called for. In the summer of 2020, the
Army introduced a standard uniform for noncombat work called the
Army Green Service Uniform (AGSU). It closely resembles what my father, a World
War II veteran, called “pinks.” This was the classic green top and beige,
vaguely pinkish bottom one sees in pictures of Eisenhower and other WWII Army
generals and their staffs.
The Department of Homeland Security ought to follow suit
— and the zeitgeist set by command is vital. On Thursday, Tom Homan, Trump’s
“border czar,” said of immigration officers’ activities in Minneapolis,
“They’ve been in theater a long time. Day after day.” But this is military
jargon for an area of foreign military activity, not an American street.
High-level managers need to stop having photo ops in combat gear. Almost none
has ever been in combat, and it sends the wrong message to a poorly trained law
enforcement officer. This change from the top will in turn help change the
behavior of those under them.
I’m under no illusion that not wearing combat gear is a panacea: There must be legislation, training, and psychological screening as well. However, getting law enforcement officers out of combat gear will help cooler heads prevail. Our secretary of Homeland Security cosplaying in full combat gear and ICE and CBP officers costumed like Delta Force have only raised the temperature in what’s already a heated situation.
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