first published September, 2017
“All you have is your integrity.”
–Liba Feuerstein (my 11th grade English teacher)
“Everybody lies.”
–Gregory House, MD (television character)
I am married to an honest man, a man whose integrity rules beyond the bounds or morality and ethics: it is woven into the fabric of his soul. By all accounts he was this way even as a kid, but I suspect his sense of integrity was honed and settled in his years as a cadet at the United States Military Academy at West Point.
At USMA, cadets adhere to a strict Honor Code. You’ve probably heard of it.
“A cadet will not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do.”
The Honor Code isn’t unique to USMA, cadets at Air Force and Navy operate under similar directives. On its face, the Honor Code is simple—be true. Be true or you will be gone.
I don’t believe that my husband chose to attend West Point because of the Honor Code, but I suspect that once there he found the Code liberating. At last, everyone would be living and acting under the same set of rules and expectations. They would have to: consequences for violating the Honor Code–including expulsion–are too steep to ignore.
Like countless other cadets, while in school my husband wrestled with the nuances of the Honor Code when confronted with classmates’ misdoings: after all, failure to report an incident—toleration—is itself an Honor Code violation. He persisted if not prevailed.
To his great credit, my husband’s sense of honor and integrity did not leave him as he exited the Academy; it remained the foundation and touch-point for his every action, decision, and word.
I found this admirable, astounding, and awesome. And also a pain in the ass.
A quick illustration.
We were married in the summer and the following winter began preparing our first joint tax return. He was a young Army officer; I, in an extended gap between college and grad school, was waiting tables and tending bar. I hated tax forms and lived with a constant, irrational fear of the IRS so when he offered to prepare the return, I happily handed over my documents, including my daily sales and tip diary.
“So,” he said, “tell me what all these numbers mean.”
“This is my sales for the day. And this is 8% of those sales. That’s what I declare.”
He looked puzzled.
“So what’s this number?”
“That’s what I took home.”
Returning to the diary, he cocked his head. “You don’t declare 100% of your tips?”
I tried to explain what I had been taught, that my taxable income was figured by a percentage of my sales and not my actual tips. I mean, jeez, the restaurant paid me 2 bucks an hour, far below minimum wage; I had to make money somehow. I had been paying my taxes through this system for a few years now. Everyone I worked with did the same thing. This is what you did.
“But that’s a lie.”
Stunned silence.
We were talking a $1200 difference in our owed taxes—an unimaginable sum for a young couple 30 years ago.
“I can’t sign my name to that piece of paper. I won’t.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the man I married. A Klingon, committed and addicted to honor.
We laugh about the Infamous Tax Incident now, but I know he would do it all over again. He still holds himself (and by extension, me) to the same, steadfast standard. That is not to say it’s easy—in fact, it’s the opposite. He often describes integrity as doing “the harder right versus the easier wrong.” Yet every day he strives, and every day he grapples with the dearth of integrity surrounding him. After all, tolerating is also a violation.
I hate to admit this, but it isn’t always easy for me to live up to that standard (I want a shortcut, doggone it!) but I know that it is right, and so I strive too, however imperfectly. There is no doubt his integrity can really get in the way, but it makes me better. It makes all of us better. And I never, ever doubt his veracity: to the best of his awareness, he lives the truth.
Would that it were so for everyone.
Which brings me to my question. Military cadets are government employees, so if they can be held 100% accountable for honesty, integrity, and honor, why do we not expect the same with our elected and sworn officials? Why do we not demand it?
“I promise to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution; and to not lie, cheat, or steal, or tolerate those who do.”
Can you imagine it?
Can you imagine a local, state, or federal government whose integrity is above reproach?
Can you imagine a world where we require that our leaders’ word actually is their bond, where we insist that addresses and speeches and statements be nothing but the truth?
Can you imagine calling out the liars and condemning the lies as a matter of course? Where tolerating them is as unacceptable as committing them?
Can you imagine a world where we valued evidence over rhetoric? Where we cared to know the difference?
“The supreme quality for leadership is unquestionably integrity. Without it, no real success is possible, no matter whether it is on a section gang, a football field, in an army, or in an office.”
–Dwight D. Eisenhower
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