All Hail the Showmen
The nation’s senior military leaders were called to Quantico not for strategy, but for theater.
On Tuesday morning at the Marine Corps base at Quantico, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth assembled hundreds of generals, admirals, and senior enlisted leaders for what he billed as a lecture on “warrior ethos.” The summons swallowed days in logistics, yet the speech itself lasted minutes. Nothing in the content required hauling much of the U.S. military’s senior leadership to northern Virginia. Everything about the staging revealed what this administration values: spectacle over method, summons over orders, posture over plan.
The Pentagon never explained why the event required mass, in-person attendance. Standards in the military are enforced through memos, regulations, and inspections. Fitness requirements, appearance guidelines, conduct rules, and diversity policies are set by directive.
Put aside that the new standards do not reflect society, such as “neutral” physical fitness requirements, which might remove women from combat roles; as Hegseth put it: “If women can make it, excellent. If not … it is what it is.” If the goal was to realign culture, it would have been cleaner—and far less costly—to issue a directive, have the chiefs implement it, and measure compliance over time. Instead, Hegseth staged a roll call of authority.
The audience certainly did not need remedial instruction in fighting. Many in the room have commanded in combat and run campaigns that never see a podium. They do not take offense at civilian control—every officer is raised on it—but they do recognize when an event confuses command presence with command performance.
The mismatch was obvious the moment Hegseth took the stage: a secretary with something to prove lecturing people who have already proved it.
The security calculus was even worse than the optics. Concentrating a large fraction of the U.S. senior military leadership in a single auditorium creates a single point of failure—physical, cyber, and informational—at a moment of active crises. Standard practice favors dispersal and layered redundancy. You do not gather your top leadership unless you must. And, no, a lecture on standards does not qualify as “must.”
The final bill for the assembly will be substantial. Short-notice travel for hundreds of principals and support staff from the Indo-Pacific, Europe, and the Middle East is expensive before anyone takes a seat. Having once arranged multiple overseas travel for the deputy director of CIA, I know the price of moving a single principal. Multiply that by hundreds, and the meter runs into the tens of millions. And the deliverable did not justify the investment.
Then there was the president. Donald Trump’s appearance was not on the original playbill—that is, if you believe that to be true—but he took the stage anyway. What followed was close to an hour of meandering—a re-run of last week’s United Nations General Assembly speech, complete with the same wandering riffs and long silences. He moved from the type of paper he prefers for signing directives and bills to his definition of correctness, from fitness standards to firefighters being shot at, from “stolen elections” to his familiar boast that he “settled seven wars.”
This was not a commander-in-chief addressing the armed forces with sober clarity. It was a campaign speech delivered to a captive audience of uniformed officers on government time. That breaks with a long tradition of keeping military gatherings free from overt political content. Even the president seemed to sense how flat it fell, remarking on how quiet the room was. The effect was less commander-in-chief than drunk uncle at a family gathering—droning on, but this audience was unable to leave.
The breach of norms matters. Civil-military trust relies on officers believing that political fights are kept outside the chain of command. Using a mass assembly of senior leaders as backdrop for political self-aggrandizement undercuts that trust.
Abroad, allies and adversaries will file Quantico under performance, not policy. Allies will look for the paper trail—orders, resources, timelines—and, finding little, conclude that process is subordinate to posture. They will hedge: more stockpiles, more bilateral workarounds, fewer assumptions about U.S. steadiness when it counts.
Adversaries will read it differently. Beijing will take note that a United States that turns national defense posture into spectacle invites uncertainty and tests U.S. credibility in the Indo-Pacific. China has already learned that Washington strikes only after others lower the risk—bombing Iranian nuclear facilities only after Israel had degraded its air defense. Ukraine policy has lurched with the news cycle, emboldening Moscow to probe and pause at will. Caribbean boat strikes and immigration crackdowns staged for television demonstrate that the administration invests energy in punishments it can film, not campaigns it must sustain.
The pattern is of a bully, not a threat: loud at home, risk-averse abroad.
Beijing and Moscow will test that gap relentlessly. Expect more gray-zone pressure timed to leadership travel and domestic theater. Expect disinformation spikes when Washington is filming itself. Expect probes where optics don’t help—cyber, space, logistics—because that is where the substance lives.
The officer corps today will remember less what was said than what was implied: that the secretary gathered them not to solve a problem but to show he could. This doesn’t impress people who measure leadership by the clarity of orders, the sufficiency of resources, and the steadiness of command when no one is filming.
Quantico made the subtext text. This is a government run by people who mistake proximity to uniforms for authority over arms, who think toughness is a tone, not a budget line. The country is still defended by professionals. Since Jan. 20, they have been led by amateurs.
Brian O’Neill, a retired senior executive from the CIA and National Counterterrorism Center, is an instructor on strategic intelligence at Georgia Tech. His Safehouse Briefing Substack looks at what’s ahead in global security, geopolitics, and national strategy.





Okay, as a mere colonel who retired with a mere 33 years of time in uniform, which included combat as a Lurp & Ranger & with the PRU program in Viet-Nam as an NCO before I went to OCS at the age pf 30, time in the Pentagon on ARSTAF, OSD, NGB, and JCS, 30 months of command time as an O6 (colonel) plus another almost dozen years in DOD, which included over 3 1/2 years in theater dealing with training issues, with another three years with JIEDDO, along with tree graduate degrees, I think that I can refer to Pete Hegseth as an unqualified, incompetent dumbshit completely in over his head as SECDEF. The performance at Quantico was nothing short of mind-boggling. Something like over 800 GO/FO & senior enlisted advisors and dumbass lectures them on something that might, at the very best warrant an email?
Hegseth's tour with the 101st in IQ took place while I was in theater. He spent relatively little time as a platoon leader before being shuffled off to be a civil affairs officer. Not a lot of "dust on the boots" time in the field. I probably saw far more combat in a "slow" month in Viet-Nam as a Ranger than Hegseth ever saw during his year-long tour. In AF, Hegseth was a FOBIT, holed up at the COIN academy. As an officer or senior NCO, if you were in IQ of AF and didn't fuck too badly, you automatically got a Bronze Star just for showing up for your flight home.
As an LT I spent some time as an aide to a GO and later served as the XO for a GO. During my time in The Pentagon, I dealt with a ton of GOs and several FOs on a routine basis thanks to my various assignments (as well at FORCOM & TRADOC HQs). That on one got up and left is testament to the professionalism the United States military has embraced. Personally, even before Cadet Bonespurs gave his usual MAGAT spiel of bullshit, I would been extremely tempted to stand up, tell Wannabe Pete (who is NOT an Airborne Ranger, by the way, but I am...) to get fucked and walked out. But, that is not how we are. We are inculcated with the notion of civilian leadership being paramount in civil-military relations. Even, alas, if the civilians are batshit fucking idiots. (Believe me, speaking from personal; experience, both political parties have dumped a few of those on The Pentagon.
As horrific as Hegseth's performance was, Cadet Bonespurs was infinitely worse. As if that were possible. O'Neill along with a multitude of others captures that bit of insane performance art quite well. This is not a good thing that happened. We are already in deep shit and that shit is only getting deeper and deeper as Dear Leader becomes more and more unhinged.
While I still have problems believing the United States somehow got itself into this mess, if you paid attention, you could see it coming...
Pigs breath Hegeseth, looked like a moron pacing the stage. This is a WTF moment for the most elite in our military described by former Marine fighter pilot Amy McGrath to Jen Rubin. Did she ever take the words out of my mouth when I saw the spectacle in Quantico yesterday. Two very small wannabe dictators before the country and the world are an embarrassment to the United States. No new democratic government will ever look up to our great country until we can dispense with these buffoons.