Approximately 30,000 high school students in the United States have active candidate files at one of the nation’s military academies. Perhaps 10 percent of them ultimately will receive an offer of admission and report for cadet basic training next June. I am one of a few hundred field force members across the United States who are privileged to help with the admissions process by interviewing some of these promising young men and women.

One of the questions on the standard interview form asks if the candidate understands the academic honor code. This is important. Sanctions for honor code violations are severe, normally resulting in the cadet/midshipman’s resignation. The code is succinct: “A cadet will not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do.” Most candidates are familiar with these words and their meaning, but have less familiarity with the implied prohibition against quibbling. The dictionary uses words like “hair-splitting” or “being pedantic” to describe quibbling. In the context of academic honor codes, quibbling refers to making a true statement with intent to deceive.

In my interviews, I usually spend a good deal of time describing the substantial way in which the honor code influences cadet life. You don’t worry about theft of your property, you believe what your classmates tell you, and you do your own academic work. New cadets at all the academies begin their honor training almost immediately after their arrival. Even though cadets are culturally, geographically and religiously diverse, there is no relativism with the honor code. One unambiguous standard applies equally to everyone.

Because the concept of quibbling is new to most teenagers, I describe it with examples. Regretfully, political campaigning provides an endless stream of useful case studies. In my opinion, there is a particularly egregious example in a current political spot in Maine. One candidate criticizes an opponent for “voting to tax Social Security.” The opponent’s response advertisement states, “The truth is, Maine has never taxed Social Security.” (If one can believe what one reads, the opponent voted for the bill, but the legislation did not pass.) Both statements are true, but the latter is classic quibbling; its intent is to deceive.

It wasn’t long ago we heard a president straining our credulity with lawyerly questions regarding the definition of “sex” or the word “is.” That was quibbling. Political insiders can cite numerous instances where a legislator repeatedly voted against a bill and its amended versions, then voted affirmatively when its passage was imminent. Later, when a challenger points out the negative vote, the candidate’s TV spots suggest, “the truth is, I voted for it, and the other guy should check his facts.”

The statement may be true, but the intent is to deceive. Some will argue that this is part of politics, but an argument that “everyone else does it” doesn’t fly with parents or with voters, and I think it is an unacceptable rationalization. It certainly has no place in a code of ethics.

When contenders discuss their records or their opponents’ weaknesses, it seems at some point in the campaign that they all seem obliged to “set the record straight and correct the falsehoods of their opponent.” There should be no falsehoods. As others have suggested in this campaign season, voters should not continuously have to separate the grain from the chaff in evaluating the testimony of those who seek public office.

The West Point cadet prayer includes a line saying, “Help us to choose the harder right instead of the easier wrong, and never to be content with a half truth when the whole can be won.” Half-truths have become the currency of political campaigns. Our civilian leaders would do much to reduce voter cynicism and increase involvement in the democratic process if they followed the same code expected of our future military leaders.

Dr. Robert A. Strong is a management consultant in Bangor, a professor of finance at the University of Maine and a 1972 graduate of the United States Military Academy.