Abstract
Harris, McDonald, and Sparks’s recent quantitative research article, Sexual Harassment in the Military: Individual Experiences, Demographics, and Organizational Contexts, does not deliver its title’s promises. In 2018, social science research investigating, describing, and, ultimately, impacting human lives has advanced beyond overly simplistic figures of data points on x- and y-axes and rhetorical findings. Therefore, this response challenges numerous aspects of Harris, McDonald, and Sparks’s article. It identifies pragmatism as a valuable theoretical perspective from which to investigate the phenomenon of sexual harassment in the military. It further asserts that a qualitative methodology best provides rich, nuanced, and descriptive data from which researchers and scholars can identify measures to mitigate negative experiences for all service members regardless of gender.
Labeled by journalist Lucy Broadbent (2011) in The Guardian “America’s dirty little secret,” sexual assault in the U.S. military allegedly is “institutional misogyny.” According to a 2016 report from the Sexual Assault Prevention and Response Office, a division of the Department of Defense (DoD), an estimated 14,900 sexual crimes were committed within the U.S. military, of which only 32% were reported (n = ∼4,768). Of the cases reported and in which the military could take action, only 389 (13%) reached a court room, and only 124 (4%) convictions of a sex crime were made. To provide institutional context, Marine Corps Order 1752.5B of March 1, 2013, “Sexual Assault Prevention and Response Program” addresses this phenomenon. The order states, “Leaders must be aware that Marines who are sexual assault victims are physically, mentally, and emotionally traumatized and wounded. A wounded Marine must never be left on the battlefield” [Emphasis added]. Anu Bhagwati, executive director of the Service Women’s Action Network, an organization spearheading a campaign to reform this aspect of military life, is quoted, “It’s like rape in the family” (Broadbent, 2011).
From the standpoint of an ethnographic military researcher, Harris, McDonald, and Sparks’s (2018) recent quantitative research article, Sexual Harassment in the Military: Individual Experiences, Demographics, and Organizational Contexts, does not deliver its title’s promises and, upon numerous close readings, its content concerns me greatly. In 2018, social science research investigating, describing, and, ultimately, impacting human lives has advanced beyond overly simplistic figures of data points on x- and y-axes and rhetorical findings. This is especially true when the researchers themselves admit they cannot clearly define their variables (Harris et al., 2018, p. 27); they cite dated literature (from 1974 to 1995) to set up their study (p. 28), including a reifying a data loop of their own citations when a plethora of relevant, contemporary scholarly data exist (some tucked away in Note 2); their hypotheses are complex and confounded (p. 29); and their research relies exclusively on a DoD-funded think tank and its executive director, the inventor of their research instrument and methodology (p. 29 and pp. 42–43). Further, they laud their high response rate, 50–60%, acknowledging the influence of the commanding officer initiating it (p. 30), yet fail to acknowledge the potential bias the same creates: Individuals in a military environment feeling compelled (i.e., the Hawthorne effect) to provide a “correct” or otherwise conditioned response to appease their officers in charge (Monahan & Fisher, 2010, pp. 357–358).
Troubling also is the repeated mantra that participation in the now-annually administered survey is “voluntary” (pp. 30–31). However, in the data presented (p. 33), there exists a nonvoluntary Sample 2 only identified in Table 1 as “nonvolunteers” with n = 16,755 compared to Sample 1, “volunteers,” with n = 6,585 for the variable “sex of respondent.” No identification or discussion of this exists. The authors (Harris, McDonald, & Sparks, 2018) quite rightly admit extensive and critical methodological concerns throughout the article, such as sampling and measurement concerns (pp. 31 and 32) and quality concerns (p. 37), yet they still believe their data are “representative” (p. 30) and provide “strong confirmation” of arguments presented in a great deal of previous research (p. 37). From a scholarly standpoint, however, these issues negate the entire study as presented.
Obviously, I question numerous theoretical and methodological aspects of this article. The authors’ intention to investigate and describe an issue (i.e., sexual harassment) critical to military studies is commendable, which I wholly respect. I assert that it is challenging, if not impossible, to conduct meaningful quantitative research, however well intended, on this topic. These Defense Equal Opportunity Management Institute/Defense Equal Opportunity Climate Survey data have, apparently, since the 1980s (p. 27) been reifying their own quantitative data loop while informing the DoD of their findings on this phenomenon. They are woefully incomplete, however, without inclusion of the rich experiential data encapsulated within each data point, the individual. Thus, I caution readers to not embrace them without reservation. Personal and social boundaries carry deep emotional resonances; so much of our knowledge about ourselves and the world is constituted in ambivalences (Pile, 1996, p. 94). Therefore, I offer for consideration a valuable theoretical perspective and discuss its importance to this phenomenon.
Pragmatism, as a theoretical perspective, holds that knowledge is produced through experience, not discovered, that the world is both created and known through social processes, and that the validity of scientific knowledge is best evaluated by its capacity to enable a better understanding or enact social change (Maxcy, 2003; Mertons, 2003; Smith, 1984; Shields, 2008). Quantitative research concepts of validity, reliability, and generalizability (Harris et al., 2018, p. 31) are incomplete, then, if each human experience of sexual interaction, consensual or nonconsensual, is individual in character. This is especially punctuated by the authors’ quantitative finding that the composition of units by sex, race, ethnicity, and rank do not appear meaningfully to influence the likelihood of sexual harassment reports (p. 35). Although these unit characteristics reflect numerous aspects of locational “culture” that are potentially “sexist” in nature, qualitative research best facilitates discussion if, in fact, individuals rather than cultures create situations of sexual harassment, one of their very own findings (p. 38). As the authors profess, multiple levels of analysis exist (p. 26). Ultimately, responsible researchers/scholars must critically and reflexively navigate these arenas. Embracing pragmatism and adopting an antiessentialist perspective offer insight, guidance, and credibility. This allows focus on sentient actors as individuals whose unruly bodies in time and space contribute to critical knowledge production (Faria & Mollett, 2016) and, it is anticipated, thereby address social injustices (Kanuha, Erwin, & Pence, 2004).
Without the language to eliminate essentialism based wholly upon biological sex (Butler, 1986), scholars continue to work primarily with binaries, individuals analytically coded as “male” or “female.” The Harris et al.’s study does not deviate (2018, p. 33). To place this study, within sex-differentiated military workplace studies, one relevant early scholarly attempt to comprehend gender difference and its enactment in the U.S. military workspace was Christine Williams’s (1989) published dissertation, Gender Differences at Work: Men and Women in Nontraditional Occupations. She compared gender construction and maintenance of male nurses to that of female U.S. Marines. She made many seminal observations on this subject including quoting Simone de Beauvoir who characterized the split between boys and girls as “doing” (the former) and “being” (the latter). Importantly, Williams asserts that there is nothing inherently masculine about the Marine Corps nor inherently feminine about nursing. The crux of her findings is that forcing men (i.e., male U.S. Marines) to accept women into “their” occupation will not eliminate the foundation upon which sexual stratification is based. From my reading, the authors’ “sexism” and “sexist environments” in the units from which their data were drawn parallel Williams’s early findings. Similarly, my findings defy institutional sexism and describe enacted concepts of kinship and equivalency that mitigate power differentials by fostering a respect for an individual’s contribution to the collective goal, regardless of gender, and thereby group inclusion (Brownson, 2014, 2015, 2016). In the midst of numerous extrapolations offered by the authors, yet not supported by the data presented nor by the text of the article, one in particular manifests as most egregious: categorization of “individuals typically in less powerful positions (Harris et al., 2018, p. 37).” “Power,” as a concept in this context, defies the extensive discussion it deserves (e.g., Weber, Marx, Derrida, and Foucault) and is largely ignored by the authors. Also ignored in the article is that negotiating life, as a relative practice, is burdensome; no gender has a monopoly on experiencing the challenges of vulnerability (Schütte, 2014, p. 1187), especially when one’s occupation is warfighting.
Gender, inherently, is performative in nature (Butler, 1990). Further, all knowledge is valid from the position or standpoint of the knower, the one producing the knowledge. Dichter and True (2015, p. 196) found that military women experience multiple forms of oppression within and outside military service that often contributed to individual decisions to enter and leave the military including poverty, abuse, violence, addiction, racism, classism, heterosexism, and other social conditions that impact women’s lives. Thus, it is critical to recognize the intersectionality of such experiences within each woman’s life course, and how gender functions not independently, but in connection with other identities and experiences (Mahler, Chaudhuri, & Patil, 2015). Men’s experiences, too, must not be assumed and arbitrarily disregarded as privileged inevitabilities (Brownlow, 2005, p. 581). Ultimately, neither mastery nor victimage can be espoused categorically (Allen, 2003, p. 157; Oakes, 1997, p. 524) in a cultural system that can recycle all of its class, sexual, artistic, and political symbols on a whim (O’Neill, 2001, p. 79). Allen (2003, p. 156) further describes power determined by “nowness,” often in the form of enticement, seduction, and persuasion (Ferraro, 1996, p. 668; Jackson, Harris, & Valentine, 2017, p. 6; Valentine, 1989, p. 386). The research practice of recognizing individuals as ambivalent, desiring individuals must be entertained and pragmatically embraced.
Sexism and sexist environments stand at the forefront of Harris et al.’s research (2018, pp. 28–29), yet no scholarly discussion of these variables exists. They briefly recite tired excuses such as hypermasculinity, focus on unit/team cohesion, and clearly delineated lines of authority as blameworthy examples for continued sexual harassment in the military (26). From evolutionary psychological as well as sociological theoretical perspectives, however, presumed masculinist ways of knowing are actually coevolutionary ways of knowing. These very beliefs/behaviors enable(d) the continued existence of humanity. Women, as merely one cohort example, are historically complicit due to a genuine interest in what may be perceived as legitimate domination (Weber 1968; Allen, 2003, pp. 20–21; Brownson, 2015, p. 15; Buss, 2005, p. 198; Valentine, Jackson, & Mayblin, 2014, p. 411). This requires a minimum of voluntary compliance, that is, an interest based on ulterior motives or genuine acceptance in obedience to the status quo (Weber 1968). Ironically, and perhaps inescapably, contemporary reliance on government through laws to discipline males and coerce men’s benevolence toward women reproduces paternalism as well as systems of domination (Hunnicutt, 2009, p. 568). In contrast, female capital, in the form of the physical body, ultimately turns individuals into instruments of their own exploitation or power (Beloso, 2012, p. 67). Like Frey’s (1992) Willful Virgin, a woman’s key to “freedom” is retention and selective dispensation of her sexuality. It is her key to independence. Even in sexual relationships with males with whom they choose to mate, Virgins continue to view their sexuality as their own, not the possession of a male. Many recognize that relinquishing her sex potentially transfers its power in the relationship to the recipient (Blau, 1964). The current postfeminist rejection of second-wave feminism permits and encourages a return to prefeminist “pleasures.” The postfeminist woman is sassy, sexy, and strong, embracing the trappings of traditional femininity—her “girliness”—as an enactment of her empowerment (Martin, 2016, p. 1423).
Women who enjoy the freedom to choose their own relationship to their sexual body as a means of production garner success through performativity aligned with military organizational mandates and collective goals. This is embodied by military women of all strata. My (Brownson, 2014, 2015, 2016) concepts of kinship and equivalency expound on this to support military females’ inclusion and respect for their contribution, both of which should empower women and reduce their vulnerability to sexual indiscretion and violence. Individual agency, however, often remains restricted by contradictory, though well-intended, institutional mandates, such as female Marines being issued whistles to signal for help if attacked or being escorted by a male Marine, regardless of the female’s rank, in attempt to ensure their sexual safety (Brownson, 2015, p. 189). Recent research also identifies women’s advocacy of and participation in military sex-fixated violence (Brownson, 2015, p. 170; Cohen, 2013, p. 384; Meštrović, 2007), which further complicates the already contentious discussion of women’s relative power and their alleged universal potential for victimization.
Enactment of sexuality is a dominant force of the life cycle (Ridley, 1993, p. 205), but what rape and other forms of sexual coercion definitively are vary widely by discipline (and the U.S. Department of Justice, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network [RAINN]) and through time and across space (Baker, 1999, p. 242; Earp, 2014, p. 14; Flood & Pease, 2009), which the authors admit. Today, the #MeToo movement engages with the corresponding #sanctimoniousHollywood criticism in the United States in which maintaining anonymity in the former equates to cowardice, and knowing silence equates to complicity in the latter. The French response to this conversation criticizes American puritanism, alleging that [French] women “defend the right to seduce, which is indispensable to [women’s] sexual freedom (Donadio, 2018).” Meanwhile, the literature on women’s (mis)use of their erotic capital and complicity in sexual (mis)adventures grows (Dougherty, 2013; Ferguson, 2008; Green, 2012; Hakim, 2010; Hofmann, 2010; Monteverde, 2014; Radner, 2008). In tandem, reformist feminists’ inherent essentialism attempts to neuter men as a cohort, free speech and, perhaps, due process as they continue to demand exclusively male accountability for sexual indiscretion (Bernazzoli, 2015; Hoyle, 2014; Kanuha et al., 2004; Massaro, 2015; Pain, 2015; Sjoberg, 2015).
Geographically, locations of a military presence remain targeted by the mass media as communities that cultivate immoral, improper, and illegal behavior, where rape is allegedly an accepted norm (Littlewood, 1997, p. 8; O’Hara, 2012, pp. 247–259; Rosen, 2007, p. 945). In contrast, however, the RAINN (2017) asserts that rape is an individual, not a collective or cultural, act or trait. Thus, although the military and its activities have long been associated with rape (Crawford, 2017; Morris, 1996, p. 652), the allegation that a present-day military rape culture situated in military places/spaces must be challenged as location specific. Harris et al.’s research supports this, stating that the military is not intrinsically a “sexist institution.” However, flaws admitted (or not) in this study undermine this assertion, especially when one major finding is that there are units in which sexism still may be unofficially condoned and institutionally supported (Harris et al., 2018, p. 38). This is a logical fallacy simply because the institution remains an institution across time, space, and geography regardless of its contemporary inhabitants. Bodies remain the source of dynamic and reflective information that can effectively be used by planners and communities to make places better for all occupants (Sweet & Escalante, 2015, p. 1840). Military units are comprised of individuals who, throughout the chain of command and as sentient agents, are expected to adhere to ethical standards and can, if so inclined, change their behaviors.
Military personnel respect their service and themselves when they know that there is a high normative bar between illicit battlefield aggression and extralegal mayhem (Wolf, 2013), including avoidance of inappropriate sexual behaviors. Strict rules and expectations that are nongendered exist in the laws of war and the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) as well as within each service branch’s legal and ethical standards and codes of conduct. Ultimately, service members who are not respected by others in their chain of command or who are cast as victims, individually or as a cohort, lack the essence of effectiveness (Allen, 2003, p. 21) and cannot successfully lead nor responsibly and effectively act as soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines (Brownson, 2015, pp. 13–14).
Harris et al. imply that this results as a “command leadership” failure at the unit level, the domain of professionally young, relatively inexperienced officers (e.g., O-3 and below), to enforce institutional codes of conduct and appropriate individual behavior (38). Erroneously, however, they state that attempting to remedy the problem of sexual harassment by focusing exclusively on changing individual behaviors will be marginally successful at best (38) [Emphasis added]. By what theoretical precept and tangible measure can this be true when culture inherently manifests from individuals’ interactive activities (e.g., Blau, 1964; Durkheim & Mauss, 1963; Tönnies, 1957)? If this is, in fact, the case, professional mentoring, the UCMJ, and other sanctioning agents and actions can quickly and efficiently provide necessary correction to individual military leaders who fail their soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines (Hoyle, 2014).
Like acknowledging a mother, a brother, or a daughter, sexual harassment data are best identified, engaged, and described by the individuality of the sentient actors they represent, not merely as data points on a figure. Their experiences are real, singular, and intersectional in their origination, enactment, and impact. As such, gendered institutional experiences qualitatively provide infinitely more insight than a “yes” or “no” response to an arbitrary and nebulous question on a “softly” (or, not) mandated DoD-driven questionnaire. Therefore, I suggest that researchers and scholars committed to investigating, describing, and negotiating this phenomenon abandon inaccurate and ineffectual tables, figures, and the pink (female) and blue (male) dots. When presented, however, conclusions drawn from these data for this phenomenon simply must be more stringently qualified.
If, in fact, all of human existence is a process of emergence, a pragmatic qualitative research approach optimally identifies female, “other,” and all service members’ experiences of sexual indiscretion in the military environment (Chang, 2004). This methodology responds inclusively, critically, and reflexively. From this we, as researchers and scholars, can identify measures to mitigate negative experiences for all service members regardless of gender. This will, in turn, ensure a representative military of a democracy staffed by citizen soldiers who reflect, as well as represent, the society it serves (Burk, 2002, p. 29).
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
