Not Every Officer Wants to Be a General
Allowing service members to pursue different career paths would ease the strain on military families.
Kate Bachelder Odell
May 20, 2019 6:21 p.m. ET
A chronic problem has attracted bipartisan attention recently: Military spouses have trouble finding work or developing careers. Karen Pence, the vice president’s wife, has devoted much of her public profile to helping military spouses. Sens. Tom Cotton and Jeanne Shaheen have introduced a bill that aims to make it easier for military spouses to transfer occupational licenses across state lines, which would mitigate one hassle of moving. But the real problem is a military assignment system that is managed like a game of musical chairs.
A White House Council of Economic Advisers report diagnoses the headache for those married to service members: America’s 690,000 military spouses, mostly women, are roughly twice as likely to be unemployed as the rest of the civilian workforce. The rate of underemployment is worse. These trends persist even though military spouses tend to be more educated than the general workforce—some 40% have a college degree. So why do military spouses disproportionately end up in licensed trades such as cosmetology? Why are nursing and teaching common choices? Because they’re among the few careers the military lifestyle can accommodate.
In my years as a Navy wife, my employer has made accommodations for my spouse’s inflexible location. Most don’t have this luxury. Corporations are periodically called on to “do more” for military spouses, but companies that hire military spouses know that there is a high risk they won’t stick around as long as typical employees. Tax credits wouldn’t change that.
The real problem is how the military shuffles service members through various jobs and locations, which can be more of a box-checking exercise than a process that cultivates talent and skills. Spouses are along for the ride, and that means frequently having to build new career networks, which over time erodes earning potential.
Some 90% of more than 1,200 spouses surveyed by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce Foundation reported moving farther than 50 miles at least once for their partner’s career. More than a third reported four or more moves. About half who had moved said they had less than three months to prepare. This is expensive for the government, and there’s reason to wonder whether it’s necessary.
Military assignments are managed through a centralized process where large personnel outfits are “just trying to match names against available billets, and almost always not knowing the people individually,” says Tim Kane, a research fellow at the Hoover Institution who served as an Air Force intelligence officer. This top-down process can only minimally incorporate a service member’s personal preferences, never mind a spouse’s career.
Mr. Kane summed up the problem to Congress last year. The military is composed of volunteers who are dealt with more like conscripts, he said. Every young officer is treated as an aspiring general or admiral, and thus is pushed into an “ideal” set of jobs with rigid timing for promotion, without respect to competing priorities, like a wife’s job or kids who don’t want to go to a new high school every year.
Mr. Kane tells me he’s known of people who “will terminate their careers early because the Air Force or the Marines won’t tell them, ‘You know what? if you don’t want to become a general, and you just want to stay at whatever base it is for the next four years, we’ll let you.’ ”
The services know these dynamics are contributing to retention problems, and the branches have been slowly starting to experiment with different career tracks for, say, pilots, where talent shortages are pronounced. Congress last year offered the branches flexibility to reform an “up or out” system that requires officers to promote through the ranks or leave the service, among other good reforms pioneered by Mr. Kane.
Mr. Kane’s other recommendations include allowing local commanding officers to conduct interviews. Another important change would be tailored promotion and compensation, which would align the assignment process with a service member’s personal—and familial—preferences.
Yet the problem is also cultural. One Navy pilot unloaded about the service’s retention problems in Proceedings, the U.S. Naval Institute’s magazine, last year, and he hit on something: Those in charge of making changes have often been those whose careers have proceeded smoothly.
As he put it: “Every admiral to whom I’ve spoken has had an impressive career. But the common thread in all of their careers is that they never have lost or been exposed to the other side of the processes. For an overwhelming majority of them, the system has worked, so the processes must be good.”
The Pentagon hasn’t had a Senate-confirmed undersecretary for personnel and readiness since Robert Wilkie left the post in 2018 to become secretary of veterans affairs. The position has no nominee, and a good one would be someone who hasn’t spent a career marinating in the military’s culture. Anyone who takes on the massive task of reform will face bureaucratic resistance. He’ll need air support from the civil-society groups seeking better prospects for military spouses.
Fixing these dysfunctions will be essential if the military is to compete for talent in society in which fewer appear interested in signing up. An untold number of Americans never consider the military because of the crazy transience it requires. That’s regrettable.
Mrs. Odell is an editorial writer for the Journal.
Appeared in the May 21, 2019, print edition.