What is morally distinctive about ‘stolen valor’?

Air Force veteran and Ohio Republican House candidate J.R. Majewski frequently talked about serving in Afghanistan, but recent reporting reveals he never set foot in the country. Majewski’s false claims about wartime service are a classic case of “stolen valor.”

As a U.S. Army combat veteran, I’m livid. But as an even-tempered philosopher, I’m interested in what distinguishes stolen valor from other types of misrepresentation.

It’s easy to chalk up Majewski’s claims as disrespecting the troops, but that characterization misses a key feature of stolen valor. There is something morally distinctive about making false claims about combat service, and it’s not just about disrespecting the troops.

During his campaign, Majewski suggested at least seven times that he served in combat in Afghanistan. In August 2021, he tweeted that he would “gladly suit up and go back to Afghanistan tonight and give my best to save those Americans who were abandoned.” He told Newsmax’s Greg Kelly earlier this year that he “served over in Afghanistan, Operation Enduring Freedom.” He recently accused his opponent, Rep. Marcy Kaptur (D-Ohio), of “running smear ads against an Afghanistan veteran.”

Despite his claims, Majewski never deployed to Afghanistan. According to records obtained by the Associated Press, he spent six months helping to load planes at an air base in Qatar. While technically located in a combat zone, the air base where Majewski served was hundreds of miles away from the fighting in Afghanistan. Majewski’s misrepresentation of his military service — in my view — is clearly stolen valor.

Historically, politicians from both sides of the aisle have had no tolerance for those who lie about serving heroically in combat. In 2013, President Barrack Obama signed a bill that makes it a federal crime to wear unearned military decorations. After Majewski’s stolen valor came to light, the National Republican Congressional Committee pulled $1 million in ads from the race, essentially throwing in the towel in a competitive district. These days, the only two things that Democrats and Republicans seem to agree on is that Daylight Saving Time should be permanent and that no one should lie about military service in combat. What is it about stolen valor that evokes such widespread condemnation across the political spectrum?

Maybe what we find morally repugnant about stolen valor is that it’s a lie about performing a civic duty. Civic duties — like voting, serving on a jury, and defending the nation during war — are crucial to democracy, the rule of law, and our sovereignty. But how much would you care if a friend told you that they recently voted in an election or sat on a jury only to find out later that they hadn’t? Of course, no one likes being lied to, but this type of lie just strikes me as odd.

Another reason false claims of combat service may anger us is that we don’t like when people take credit for things they haven’t done. This explanation seems to closely track the implied definition of stolen valor. But people regularly take credit for things they haven’t done. How many politicians have taken credit for creating jobs in a strong market? While these questionable political claims may anger the other party’s base, they do not typically elicit bipartisan rebuke.

It could be that we don’t like when people lie about holding dangerous jobs, especially when those jobs are crucial to our way of life. Defending the nation during war certainly fits this description. But so does logging, which provides an essential commodity and is over 30 times more dangerous than the average job in the United States. So, while falsely claiming to be a logger might earn condemnation from real loggers, I doubt it would cause public moral outrage.

I suspect our collective anger over stolen valor has less to do with the nature of wartime service than we might initially think. Our society confers special status upon certain groups of people, like cancer survivors, family members of 9/11 victims, and combat veterans. We recognize that the price for admission into these groups is high, so we treat their members with compassion and respect.

Claiming to be a member of one of these special groups places a serious demand on an audience’s psyche. These declarations force hearers to reckon with the difficult experiences the speaker claims as their own. Hearing that someone lost a family member on 9/11 likely evokes feelings of sympathy. Learning that someone served in combat may engender gratitude. Extending an emotional response to a stranger requires trust and vulnerability. From experience, I know that these feelings of compassion are received with humility and reciprocated with mutual respect, even when no words are spoken.

While Americans may be forgiving when others embellish certain aspects of their personal history, some things are off-limits.

Most politicians bend the truth from time to time. But stolen valor is not merely bending the truth; it’s a pernicious trick.

People don’t like being tricked, especially when the trickery results in giving another person affections they don’t deserve. J.R. Majewski did not merely steal valor; he stole the emotional response from those who reacted to his false claims. While he unquestionably disrespected our nation’s true combat veterans, Majewski also disrespected everyone whose sentiments he stole.

Jesse Hamilton is a U.S. Army combat veteran and served as an embedded advisor to the Iraqi Army in Fallujah. He is currently a Ph.D. student in philosophy at the University of Pennsylvania.