When Political Spectacle Replaces Lawful Military Leadership

Trust is central to the role and performance of America’s military and law enforcement personnel—not just for unit cohesion, but to ensure that urgent decisions are made with clarity, discipline, and respect for human life. Service members are trained to understand this. Civilian leaders are expected to honor it. The Trump Administration, however, has demonstrated that some of its leaders have either forgotten—or chosen to disregard—that trust, particularly the obligation to follow the law and place American values above self-interest and political spectacle.

It is not difficult to distinguish values-based leadership from toxic, self-focused leadership. The difference is visible in the results each produces. As a 20-year veteran of the U.S. Coast Guard and a helicopter pilot for emergency healthcare providers, I know firsthand that leadership can mean the difference between life and death.

Good leaders understand the roles, capabilities, and judgment of the people they command. During my time in the Coast Guard, I performed at my best when I knew my superiors trusted me to make sound decisions based on experience, training, and the law. My greatest professional challenges arose under leaders who were more concerned with appearances and displays of authority than with mission success or accountability.

That leadership style now defines the Trump Administration, and nowhere is it more evident than at the top of the Department of Defense. Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth appears less focused on the letter and spirit of the law than on asserting power and projecting dominance. Historically, this position has been held by leaders with deep institutional experience—individuals steeped in the complexities of command authority, rules of engagement, and civilian control of the military. While Secretary Hegseth is a veteran and a media figure, he lacks much of the institutional grounding that distinguished many of his predecessors.

That lack of grounding has had real-world consequences. Under his leadership, service members have been ordered to strike boats suspected of drug activity without proof, arrest, or trial—actions untethered from due process and justified more by optics than by national security. These were not measured operations aimed at protecting lives or enforcing the law; they were spectacles designed for political consumption.

Now, that same disregard for restraint and legality has escalated dramatically. The Trump Administration’s decision to invade Venezuela and seize its leader represents the most dangerous expression of this leadership philosophy yet. Venezuela poses no imminent military threat to the United States. Yet American service members were placed in harm’s way to carry out a unilateral operation that lacked congressional authorization, clear legal justification, and a credible plan for what follows—for the region, for civilians, or for the troops themselves.

Consider the service members ordered to execute these missions. How should they process their role if they later learn that innocent lives were lost or that the operation violated international law? For generations, American service members have trusted civilian leaders to tell the truth, respect legal boundaries, and exhaust lawful alternatives before resorting to force. When leaders instead pursue spectacle—whether by striking unproven targets or abducting foreign leaders—that trust erodes, and the moral burden falls squarely on those ordered to carry it out.

Secretary Hegseth’s involvement in legally ambiguous seizures of Venezuelan oil tankers foreshadowed this moment. Historically, the use of force was accompanied by transparency, evidence, and accountability. Today, the Administration offers little more than talking points and performative bravado, substituting discipline with ideology and restraint with ego.

If this pattern continues unchecked, the consequences will be profound. Service members will begin to question whether the orders they receive are lawful. They will wonder whether they are serving their country—or serving a political agenda. When that doubt takes hold, it corrodes trust up and down the chain of command, undermining cohesion, morale, and mission effectiveness. That should alarm every American.

The military exists not to advance the ambitions of any one leader, but to defend the nation and uphold values larger than politics: integrity, accountability, and service. When civilian leaders abandon those principles, they do lasting damage—not just to America’s standing abroad, but to the character of the force itself.

Strength is not demonstrated through spectacle. It is demonstrated through restraint, respect for the law, and leadership worthy of the trust placed in it.