Elizabeth Dray, a urologist practicing in Asheville, N.C., published an opinion piece reacting to a recent policy announcement by Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth. The announcement initiated testosterone screening in all U.S. servicemembers aged 30 and older and was framed by Hegseth under the label “The High T Department of War.” Dray positions her piece as a critique of the cultural and conceptual foundations of that policy.
Dray describes Hegseth’s vision as vivid and intentionally evocative — likened to an IMAX projection of Odysseus. The rhetoric presents an image of the service member as a physically optimized warrior: at peak strength, lethal in combat, dominant in the domestic sphere, and anointed by higher authority. Dray contends that this representation is an idealized fantasy rather than a reflection of the complex realities of modern military service.
To explain the roots of the image Hegseth evokes, Dray turns to Greco-Roman ideas of manhood. She notes that terms for courage in both Greek and Latin are linguistically connected to words meaning man — “andros” in Greek and “vir” in Latin. In classical thought, the moral and social identity of being a man was closely tied to demonstrations of bravery and martial prowess.
Dray outlines how ancient cultures rewarded risk and sacrifice with renown. The Greek concept of “Kleos” — literally “that which is heard” — signified glory and the lasting fame earned through courageous deeds, especially on the battlefield. In that economy of honor, risking one’s life for victory or reputation was the clearest route to social reward.
The author contrasts the ancient, honor-based model of masculinity with contemporary military practice. She suggests that a classical hoplite might look with disdain at modern forms of conflict, such as drone warfare, because the latter remove some of the direct physical risk that shaped ancient notions of valor. Dray implies that directly transplanting ancient standards into modern military policy is a poor fit for the present-day operational and ethical environment.
A central concern in the piece is the reduction of courage and masculine identity to a biological marker. Dray warns against equating higher testosterone with bravery and then using that association as a basis for personnel screening or policy. She characterizes the ideal of the testosterone-fueled warrior as a fantasy and calls Hegseth’s vision “a tragedy in the making” if enacted without careful reflection.
The article notes critical omissions in the public announcement: it does not report operational details about how the proposed testosterone screening would be conducted, what thresholds or follow-up actions might apply, or what evidence underpins the idea that testosterone levels predict courage or military effectiveness. Those specifics were not provided in the source, and Dray highlights the risk of building policy on an unexamined cultural narrative rather than on documented clinical or behavioral data.
Dray’s piece is a cautionary argument. She frames both the Homeric hero and the image of the hormonally optimized soldier as fantasies that valorize a narrow view of manhood. Turning such a cultural myth into policy risks oversimplifying human behavior, misusing medical screening for cultural ends, and producing unintended consequences for servicemembers. The author urges skepticism about policies that seek to biologize courage and masculinity rather than address the broader realities of military life and modern warfare.