See additional coverage of Nathaniel’s post at:

http://gay.americablog.com/2010/02/palm-centers-nathaniel-frank-dadt.html

http://www.pamshouseblend.com/diary/15246/

http://www.towleroad.com/2010/02/in-a-new-huffington-post-piecethat-makes-note-of-yesterdays-blog-swarmnathaniel-frankpalm-center-senior-research-fellow-and.html

http://joemygod.blogspot.com/2010/02/palm-center-dadt-repeal-in-grave-peril.html

http://www.bilerico.com/2010/02/palm_centers_nathaniel_frank_dadt_repeal_in_grave.php

http://thegaybuzz.blogspot.com/2010/02/admiral-mike-mullen-is-unlikely-ally-in.html

http://www.davidmixner.com/2010/02/huffington-post-nathaniel-frank-on-hrcdemocrats-and-dadt.html#more

http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0210/33092_Page2.html

http://www.dailykos.com/storyonly/2010/2/17/838041/-DADT-Reform-in-Grave-Peril,-Servicemembers-Legal-Defense-Network-Joins-Fight

http://michael-in-norfolk.blogspot.com/2010/02/is-repeal-of-dadt-in-peril-leadership.html

http://www.signorile.com/2010/02/demanding-action-on-dadt.html

http://www.akawilliam.com/nathaniel-frank-are-we-the-reason-a-dadt-repeal-is-in-grave-peril/

Now comes word that, after nearly two generations of a vibrant gay rights movement, Americans are somehow confused about what a “homosexual” is, throwing already shaky polling data into disarray just at the time when the military prepares to poll its members about how they feel about gay people. Respondents in a New York Times/CBS News poll expressed significantly less support for lifting “don’t ask, don’t tell” when asked if “homosexuals” should be allowed to serve openly than when asked (on the same poll) if “gay men and lesbians” should be allowed to serve openly. Um, what did they think they were saying on the last question which asked the exact same thing but using a different word?

This week’s Quinnipiac poll found similar confusion: 57% of Americans favored letting gays serve openly in the military; but the poll found that roughly the same percentage thought gays should have to restrict “exhibiting” their sexual orientation. Um, what did they think it meant to serve openly in the last question they just answered affirmatively? (Many Americans seem to believe that “openly” gay service does not just mean that gays could speak honestly about their lives just like straight people, but that they would be allowed to sashay through Camp Pendleton in a pink boa, exempt from wearing a military uniform; perhaps a better phrase than “openly gay service” would be “service with equal honesty.”)

Other surveys confirm the major limitations of basing public policy on opinion polls. A substantial minority of Americans routinely say in polls that they think homosexual relations should be “illegal”; when asked in the same survey if they think the government should be able to throw someone in jail for consensual behavior conducted in their own bedrooms, many of those same people say no. Um, what did they think “illegal” meant in the last question when they were all too happy to support the sex police hauling people off to prison for private consensual conduct?

In the debate over “don’t ask, don’t tell,” polls are unavoidable because the rationale for the policy has long been the assertion—totally unproven—that straight discomfort with known gays would harm the bonds of trust that make up unit cohesion. As I’ve argued, the “unit cohesion” rationale was essentially made up by senior military officers and political pundits who were either clueless or hateful. Dozens of studies conducted across fifty years have failed to find a shred of evidence for the unit cohesion argument, and now published research by Active Duty military officers is concluding that “there is no scientific evidence to support the claim that unit cohesion will be negatively affected if homosexuals serve openly” and even that the current gay ban itself harms cohesion by creating dishonesty and distrust.

But so long as rightwing obstructionists try anything to revive the unit cohesion argument, the question of whether straight troops can serve effectively with known gays will remain in play. If we have to face that question, let’s do it right: the issue is not the personal preferences of enlisted men and women—as we’ve been told for years (usually by homophobes implying that gays are the very essence of personal pleasure run amok), the military is not about individual desires, but about what’s good for the mission. And firing badly-needed Arabic translators because they’re gay while we’re fighting two wars is not good for the mission. The relevant questions, if they have to be asked, are not whether the troops want to serve with gays, but whether they are capable of doing so; whether they know gays in their units; whether such knowledge has ever impaired overall cohesion; and whether they are in need of specific training to help them get over themselves if they have trouble working with people who are different from them (this would not be sensitivity training, which research has shown to backfire; it would be simple training guidelines that communicate the nature and purpose of any new policy that’s implemented).

As luck would have it, we already have this data, making it far from clear why the Pentagon is saying it needs a year to study the matter. While stand-alone polls must always be looked at critically, the trends are overwhelming. The freshest data is from this week’s Military Times poll showing that opposition to gay service among active duty troops has fallen from 65% in 2004 to 51% today. (Some of us have criticized this poll in the past for its non-random sampling and its question order: asking opinions about gay service directly following questions about gay rape; this poll is still flawed, but the trend it reflects is unmistakable.)

Its findings are echoes of a long trend. Between 1992 and 1998, the percentage of male soldiers who “strongly oppose” gays serving in uniform dropped nearly in half, from 67 percent to 37 percent. A 2000 study conducted at the Naval Postgraduate School found that between 1994 and 1999, the percentage of U.S. Navy officers who “feel uncomfortable in the presence of homosexuals” decreased from 57.8 to 36.4 percent.” And a 2006 Zogby poll of 545 troops who served in Afghanistan and Iraq found that 72 percent of service members were personally comfortable interacting with gays and lesbians; that, of those who knew of gays in their unit, the overwhelming majority stated that their presence had little or no impact on the unit’s morale; and that nearly two thirds of service members know or suspect gays in their units, giving the lie to the assumption that knowing a gay peer would harm cohesion.

This may be why discharge figures have plummeted since 2001 when we became a nation at war: if you want to know what the military really thinks (and not just what they say), look at the actions of commanders, who are clearly looking the other way when confronted with gay troops, in order to retain needed personnel. The most recent evidence of this is that Lt. Dan Choi’s commander asked him to join drill last weekend even though the whole world knows Choi is gay (his discharge is formally still pending). Apparently openly gay service does not undermine the First Battalion, 69^th Infantry Regiment.

Polling the troops is a toxic exercise, not because their views don’t matter, but because of how obstructionists will seek to use the data. If those responsible for reform want to ensure that this process goes smoothly, they must make absolutely clear that the purpose of such polling is to help smooth this transition, not to obstruct it. In 1993, after months of hatemongering by the far right about gays destroying the military, support for lifting the ban actually fell by ten percentage points; we can expect that again this time, and should realize that the best data is what we already have, not what we’ll get in a highly politicized climate.

Notice too that this time around, obstructionists have sought to enlarge the numbers of their fellow opponents by adding “military families” to the mix of people whose opinions should determine the fate of gay equality. As the “unit cohesion” fable dies and opposition among troops crumbles, opponents of openly gay service need all the help they can get. But they’re not going anywhere anytime soon. The rest of us must do all we can to keep them honest.

Link to Huffington Post

Having spent four lovely college years in the mid-west, I did come to Nebraska with a somewhat clearer understanding of the reality in between the coasts than some fellow Easterners have in their imaginations. Having also recently researched an article on same-sex marriage for which I spoke to many people involved in the successful effort to win marriage equality in Iowa, I also understood that the old-fashioned values of respect and freedom that characterize many in the red states can go far toward securing a positive climate for gays and lesbians. Sure, hate and intolerance, fanned by the hollering and screaming of the religious right, mean the national climate is far from positive enough for far too many. But the vast middle of the country may be doing a bit better on this front than many think.

I wasn’t disappointed.  Lincoln is a university town in Eastern Nebraska, so it is, like many college towns in red states, something of an island of tolerance and enlightenment in an ocean of, well, not so much. That said, the whole lesson here is to not assume that gays will face hostility any time they find themselves outside a coastal metropolis. It’s the same argument many of us have been making about the military, and the new social realities among gays and straights serving together in uniform. Far more than it used to be, gay is ok.

Of course, the thrust of my talk was that it’s not enough for gay to be ok. GLBT have not spent decades fighting for freedom and equality just to become more like straight people. And no, this does not mean, Pat Robertson, that we want to destroy America’s institutions and cast away all restraints to make way for a Dionysian paradise that will take America down like the Roman republic. All it means is that the experience of being a sexual minority may help us nudge the majority to realize better, healthier ways of organizing society—like, say, not basing future laws, policies, and practices on outdated models of repression and denial. This is the outrage of “don’t ask, don’t tell”—not only that it offends notions of American equality and undercuts our security, but that it flies in the face of our noblest aspirations toward freedom, honestly, and integrity.

In Lincoln, I was a guest at Professor Barbara DiBernard’s introductory class on gay studies, where I was treated to smart, hard-hitting questions about Michel Foucault’s influence on Queer thought and public policy, among others; I addressed 30 students at the Queer Students Association, where I spoke about the Palm Center’s model of high-impact research; and I read from my book at the campus bookstore. And last night I addressed 200 students and other members of the community at a Marriott ballroom. It’s hard to imagine getting that kind of crowd for a queer talk in New York!

What moved me most about my trip to Lincoln was the support of straight allies there.  From the het couple who asked me to sign a book to their infant daughter in hopes that, when she was old enough to read it, discrimination against gay people would be history, to Steve Vossler, the towering straight Army veteran from the tiny town of Friend, Nebraska, who introduced me before my talk and honored those fighting to lift the ban as “warriors for social justice.”

So in 48 short hours, I’ve become a Cornhusker. Perhaps only in Lincoln, Nebraska can you wait to board your plane in a lounge full of red-clad football fans watching a game against Iowa State (where gay couples live marriedly ever after) eating a muffin that the airport woman (having actually answered, “peachy” to my “how are you?”) took the time to heat up.

Last week a 29-year-old gay sailor was found shot to death at a guard shack at Camp Pendleton. The question that immediately rose to the minds of gay advocates who remember the anti-gay murder of Private First Class Barry Winchell exactly a decade ago, was whether Seaman August Provost was killed because he’s gay.

While human rights activists have worked to ensure a full investigation, the Navy has downplayed the role of Provost’s sexual orientation, saying there is “no evidence or information that suggests this is a hate crime” and that it has “no indication that there is any tie to what may or may not have been his sexuality.”

To which it must be said: of course the Navy has no evidence about Provost’s homosexuality or about what links that may have had to his death. The military does not allow the Navy to have evidence of either, under its “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy, whose fate is now being debated in Washington.

Provost’s death is Exhibit A for why this policy should end now. According to family members, Provost complained in the months leading up to this death of being harassed because he was gay, but he was unwilling to complain to authorities for fear that his own sexuality would come under suspicion and his job could be threatened.

Observers are wisely awaiting further details before concluding definitively that Provost’s death was an anti-gay hate crime. But here’s the rub: It doesn’t matter. We already know that “don’t ask, don’t tell” causes anti-gay harassment. It does this not only in green-lighting anti-gay sentiment—the law states that the presence of gays and lesbians is an “unacceptable risk” to the good order and discipline of the military, thereby declaring them a threat—and not just by barring gays and lesbians from speaking up to challenge negative assumptions and stereotypes about them, but by discouraging victims of harassment or abuse from talking to commanders about the problem. If they do, they can be kicked out.

This is exactly what happened in the case of Barry Winchell. On July 5, 1999, Private Calvin Glover took a baseball bat to Winchell’s bed, and bludgeoned him to death as he slept. The motive was revenge for losing to Winchell in a fist fight, in which he was derided by peers in the hypermasculine culture of the Army for having “his ass kicked by a faggot.” When Winchell was pronounced dead, his skull had been cracked open, his eyes swollen shut, and his face beaten beyond recognition.

Winchell’s murder was preventable. Winchell had been the target of daily anti-gay taunting for months leading up to his murder. He was denounced as a “queer,” a “faggot” and a “homo,” and was repeatedly threatened with violence. Yet Winchell told a confidant just before he was killed that he feared expulsion if he spoke up about his mistreatment. Subsequent investigations found that his base, Fort Campbell under the leadership of Major General Robert Clark, tolerated a climate of rampant anti-gay harassment and poor leadership. Then-president George Bush felt Clark was doing a heckuva job and rewarded his leadership vacuum with a promotion to the Army’s third-highest rank.

The evidence that the current policy exacerbates anti-gay harassment is clear. When “don’t ask, don’t tell” began in 1994, reports of anti-gay harassment shot up; they targeted not only gays but straights—often women who did not conform to male expectations of proper gender behavior, or who rebuffed or complained about unwanted male attention. Notably, when the gay ban was lifted in Canada, reports of harassment against women dropped by roughly half. Even Charles Moskos, the chief academic architect of “don’t ask, don’t tell” co-authored an article after Winchell’s murder explaining that gay troops “fear reporting harassment and assaults” because their jobs will be put at risk, and that the results of his own policy were “insidious.” The policy has also kept gays from reporting and testifying against murder suspects because doing so would involve revealing their sexuality. So the gay ban blocks the prosecution of heinous crimes that affect more than just gays and lesbians.

Of course, some people will say that the evidence of anti-gay harassment in the military is exactly the reason not to lift the ban. They say this shows the military is not ready and cannot handle gays in their midst. Time Magazine, for instance, writes that Provost’s death “has raised new questions over the readiness of the armed forces to accept openly homosexual personnel.”

Nonsense. Everyone knows gays are already there—and they’re already serving openly, just not, in most cases, open to the military bureaucracy. Three quarters of service members say they’re “personally comfortable” around gays, and two thirds say they know or suspect gays in their unit. More to the point, driving harassment underground is the worst possible thing you can do in cases like these. Lifting the ban would allow those who are threatened by anti-gay harassment to confront their perpetrator or inform authorities without fear of retribution. And it would let witnesses and friends speak up too, a critical means in any community of enforcing the rules.

It’s circular logic at its best to say we shouldn’t treat gays equally because the military doesn’t treat gays equally. And it’s an even sorrier excuse for leadership to hear from our nation’s moral watchdogs that equal treatment should be expected to result in violence. This is just what former Senator Sam Nunn did in 1993 when he said that lifting the ban would create “very emotional feelings” and that if things changed too quickly, “I fear for the lives of people in the military themselves.” Conservative Christian groups joined him in opposing openly gay service by saying that straight soldiers would “avoid, stigmatize and harass soldiers whose ‘gayness’ is revealed.” “Leadership” like this can become a self-fulfilling prophesy, leading to the very results that are feared, especially in the military, which is a hierarchical institution where the climate is set from the top.

We don’t yet know the circumstances of Provost’s death. But is there any sense at all in waiting until another service member is murdered before something is done to end this madness?