It has recently been reported that President Trump and Secretary of War Hegseth disparaged the mental health concerns, including suicide attempts, expressed by the sailors serving aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln during the carrier’s record deployment. Their comments brought back the disquiet I felt several months ago while attending a performance of the US Naval Academy Glee Club at the Church of St. Ignatius Loyola in Manhattan. Usually, when I attend choral concerts in the church’s imposing Baroque sanctuary, my mind quiets, and I find myself immersed in the music. But not on that occasion. Instead, as I enjoyed the exuberant singing, my mind filled with resentment. The Glee Club, handsome midshipmen in formal dress, is a multiethnic group of men and women. The harmonious singing of a chorus composed of individuals of widely varied backgrounds seemed a metaphor for how our country and its military should work.
My upset originated with the realization that during their time at the Naval Academy, these midshipmen had witnessed the firing of the Black Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Air Force General C. Q. Brown, Jr., as part of an apparent purge of those supporting diversity in the military. Even uglier was the implication that Brown, a highly decorated officer, had been elevated to his position as a ‘DEI’ hire. They also had seen the firing of trailblazing women leaders in the military, including Admiral Linda Fagan, the first woman Coast Guard Commandant, and Admiral Yvette Davids, the first woman Superintendent of the Naval Academy at Annapolis, the very institution they were attending. I was offended and angered by the message these firings conveyed to the men and women of the Academy’s Glee Club, especially the women and minority midshipmen, who had volunteered to serve their nation and, ultimately, to place themselves in harm’s way for it.
I also wondered about the message and potential consequences of Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s firing of top military lawyers whose responsibility is to advise military officers and help them avoid violating U.S. law and the laws of armed conflict. It was in this context that I recalled being moved by the sight of former Marines weeping in front of pictures of what they had wrought during their time of combat when visiting the Vietnam Military History Museum in Hanoi some years ago. What I witnessed served as a vivid reminder of the price paid by Vietnam vets who suffered with PTSD across their lives. The prevalence of that diagnosis has increased for those who served in operations Desert Storm and Enduring Freedom, as have the clinical consequences of moral injury in those who have found themselves at odds with their deeply held values during their time of service. As a psychiatrist, I found myself concerned about how such firings may increase the likelihood of the young midshipmen I was listening to, as well as that of others who serve, experiencing moral injury, PTSD, and, ultimately, difficulty reintegrating into civilian life after deployment.
Our service men and women deserve leadership, both civilian and military, which they can respect and which in turn demonstrates respect for them by preparing them for the successful execution of their missions, shows equal esteem for all who serve regardless of their gender, ethnicity, or faith, and strives to minimize the likelihood of their incurring physical and psychological harms. Unfortunately, from my perspective, those currently serving lack the thoughtful and moral civilian leadership they deserve.
Dr. Barry B. Perlman is a retired psychiatrist. He was president of the New York State Psychiatric Association and past chair of the New York State Mental Health Services Council. “Rearview: A Psychiatrist Reflects on Practice and Advocacy In a Time of Healthcare System Change,” his memoir, was published in 2021.
The President Invited Iran to Bomb My Home