There is very little that, on the face of it, sounds attractive about the Virginia Military Institute experience: little sleep, a regimented schedule, strict uniform code, restrictive rules on behavior, not to mention the grueling first-year Ratline. In my first week at the institute, colloquially called “Hell Week,” it was difficult to make friends as people dropped out so frequently, deciding (fairly enough) that this life was not for them.
But for those of us who stayed, the bonds we formed were incomparable. It was more than friendship: I had particular friends, of course, amongst my “Brother Rats” (a term applied equally to male and female cadets from one’s class), but there was (and is) a common sense of devotion and willingness to sacrifice oneself for any and all of those who had been forged in that same crucible.
We also shared a sense of being something special. Having gone through such an intentionally adverse experience, we were prepared to handle whatever difficulties life might throw at us. At its core, this was preparation for combat, preparation that has benefited many of my Brother Rats as they have faced extreme hardships in defense of this country. We were drilled, tested, and pushed — together — into an élite.
The rigors of the VMI system have at times attracted criticism, or at least a raised eyebrow. Those outside of the institute community can misunderstand them as exclusionary. Indeed, the idea of an élite can seem backwards in a country dedicated to equality: is not the rejection of aristocracy part of our founding myth? The current controversies surrounding VMI’s future in the face of reform bills moving through the General Assembly speak to a sense of concern and distrust about the nature of the institute’s role in Virginia and the wider United States.
But what critics of VMI fail to appreciate is the foundation upon which the “aristocracy” and adversity of the system is based. This is not the creation or maintenance of a system of privilege, but a return to the Greek etymological roots of aristokratia: “leadership by the best.” The harsh challenges of VMI are designed to mold cadets into leaders who will be prepared and equipped to do the utmost for those in their care. Moreover, whatever success I have achieved in my life is not mine alone: it is the product of a multitude of influences, whether parents, friends, teachers, heroes, etc. My time at VMI is an important component of that web, one that reminds me that I have never pulled myself up by my own bootstraps.
Indeed, the uniform, the shaved head, the demanding standards, the pressure, made me more equal than I had ever been before: I was exactly like my Brother Rats. VMI took away many of the superficialities of who I thought I was and what I thought I was entitled to as I entered adulthood. But it did not replace those things: it was up to me to figure out who I was, and who I was going to be. The challenge of VMI offered the opportunity to cultivate virtues that weave throughout the tapestry of life. Charity, prudence, justice, temperance, diligence: all featured in my education at VMI. But I remember fortitude and patience most clearly. In the eternal dark wakefulness of fatherhood with my first newborn, I was reminded of countless, aching hours of guard duty, of shouting upperclassmen, of standing at attention on parade: moments, sometimes intensely physically or emotionally difficult moments, that seemed that they would never end. But they always did, and I was stronger for it. Ultimately, VMI gave me a model of leadership and service and opportunities to practice it.
This sense of leadership, one that is directed toward the good of others, is what has inspired generations of graduates to serve their state and their country — in the military, most obviously, but also in government, education, medicine, law and many other careers. Many of my Brother Rats and fellow graduates have achieved much greater things than I have: the medals catalogued in the Hall of Valor at the VMI Center for Leadership and Ethics, the business and industry achievements across the country, the presence of graduates in state and national politics — all testify to the excellence of the VMI “product.” But, of course, most VMI men and women lead in quiet ways that protect and maintain the American life we take for granted; perhaps unsung, but definitely heroes.
Like any institution, VMI is not perfect. But it is one of the best in America, and it helps to build the best of America. As Lt. Gen. David Furness, the institute’s superintendent, has said, VMI has nothing to fear from a “fair, balanced investigation.” But any evaluation of VMI needs to understand its idiosyncratic place in the wider ecosystem of American university, military and cultural life. The institute is and ought to be subject to oversight by the General Assembly, but it also ought to be governed with an independence and expertise that allows it to be different, even potentially confusing to much of the public. This peculiarity is essential to what the institute can achieve. VMI is not for everyone, nor should it be. But it is for anyone: anyone who wishes to be tested to the limits, to be broken and then put back together — not for him — or herself, but for others.
G.E.M. Lippiatt, Ph.D., is medieval history lecturer at the University of Exeter. He graduated from Virginia Military Institute in the Class of 2009 and was VMI’s 11th Rhodes Scholar.
