Therefore choose life

In 1956 Lockheed Aircraft Corporation moved its missile division to the San Francisco Bay area. The plant they built in Sunnyvale was later to become Lockheed Missiles and Space Company. Wanting to get back into aeronautics, Bob hired on in the engineering department and we bought our present home in Santa Clara. Our sixth and youngest child was not quite a year old at the time.

Before we accepted work at Lockheed, and before we moved to the Bay Area, we did some serious thinking about the function of money in our lives. We were not living in poverty but we had plenty of bills, mainly doctor bills. But we were happy. We could see that that was not always the case when people had lots of money. What if this new job should become a huge financial success? How would we react?

We finally made an agreement between ourselves and with God that if we ever received an abundant income we would not seek material excess. Instead we would use our resources to raise good children and to do God’s will as we saw it. At that time we didn’t foresee the ramifications of that pact, but it was the beginning of our responsiveness to opportunities that unfolded.

After starting the engineering job, Bob went back to school at San Jose State University. Sputnik was launched shortly after and the Russians flew their first intercontinental missile. The later-to-be-proved-false missile gap sparked national paranoia. Operational dates for the new Polaris submarines were moved ahead. Bob was working on the submarine-launched missiles and his engineering department went on a ten-hour-day, six-day-week schedule. In spite of this exhausting pace, Bob continued part time with college courses and, after five grueling years, managed to graduate with highest honors in his aeronautical engineering class.

Bob took a keen interest in his new engineering job and advanced rapidly. But other forces entered our lives shortly after we moved to Santa Clara. New acquaintances invited us to join the Christian Family Movement, a lay Christian movement that started in the United States and has now spread throughout the world to become a strong force for social change. It emphasizes the importance of the family. Meanwhile our own family continued to grow, until we had ten healthy children entrusted to our care. We were well blessed.

CFM had a strong formative effect on our spiritual life during the 11 years we were active, and in the years since. We worked with other couples in a close community spirit, sharing work projects and recreation. Eventually we saw beyond our own comfort and desired it for all people.

Another important jump in awareness came in 1963 when we made our Cursillo. The Cursillo (a little course in Christianity started in Spain) is an intense three day experience in Christian love. It forced us to scrutinize ourselves and our commitment to God and humanity.

During his first eight years at Lockheed Bob helped design three generations of Polaris missiles. He worked mostly on wind tunnel testing and underwater launch development. During that time he was convinced that building weapons to deter war was his most important contribution to peace. Once a fellow worker engaged him in a philosophical discussion about religion in daily life and asked, “What do you think God wants you to do most of all?”

“Just what I am doing,” Bob responded without hesitation. “To help design this missile to protect our country.” Although the conversation died at that point, the question bothered him for time to come. But Bob had not yet learned to pay attention when disturbed.

In 1965 Lockheed cornered the Poseidon missile contract and Bob transferred to re-entry systems. That is the part of the missile which carries the hydrogen bomb to its destination. He helped design the multiple individually-targeted re-entry vehicles (more commonly called MIRVs). MIRVs allow one missile to destroy many targets. Working on these, Bob saw what happens at the other end of the missile’s flight.

It bothered him to hear how the Poseidon missile-submarine weapon was evaluated: that system has an “effectiveness” of killing one-quarter of Russia’s population. Helping to prepare for such incineration was disquieting. Bob subconsciously resorted to moral self-deception: he dismissed that uncomfortable fact by simply not thinking about it. He did not visualize the killing, maiming, orphaning, and widowing that would take place if Poseidon were ever used, pursuing his work with the superficial awareness that one acquires through the daily newspaper.

Bob’s real questioning of nuclear weapons started about 1968. After dinner one evening our oldest daughter, Janie, a sophomore at Santa Clara University at the time, was telling us about some campus demonstrations. Students were protesting against Dow Chemical because it made napalm to use in Vietnam. The discussion went into the wee hours of the morning. Janie expressed her concern that when the Vietnam issue was settled, the protest would turn to the building of nuclear weapons. Bob defended his position: these weapons were needed to prevent Russia from taking over the world. At the least, they were needed until a meaningful treaty could be negotiated. But Janie insisted that people must summon the courage to change their destructive behavior.

Bob was shook. He had worked hard to complete college. His future was promising. We had a large family to support and it just wasn’t realistic to think about starting over. But we were not reckoning on how God would present his desires and how we would respond. The obstacles seemed insurmountable at the time. They forced Bob to another form of self-deception: rationalizing. When troubling thoughts become too persistent to be repressed we often justify immoral activity with faulty logic.

A new consciousness did dawn on us, however. Bob became more aware of what was happening about him at work. He noticed that most of his fellow workers did not really seem convinced that they were defending their country. Patriotic feelings and good intentions took second place to winning contracts and keeping the business going. Lockheed puts much effort on future business--developing new weapons concepts with which to entice the military. The real motive behind the arms race gradually surfaced in our understanding: profits for the company and job security for the workers.

Bob describes how his work environment contributed to his growing uneasiness:

“I observed very little joy within the guarded gates of Lockheed. Only the intellectual surfaced, and that was strictly along the lines of ‘me and my project.’ That sterile attitude, accompanied by tough competition to gain more responsibility, was the general rule. Why people wanted to gather more and more work under their control always amazed me. I finally diagnosed this ‘empire building’ as groping for security--a need to become indispensable. But I knew of very few who achieved any degree of permanency. A budget cut or administrative reshuffle could result in being squeezed out of line in the pecking order.

“I did not realize it at the time, but my interior attitude was shifting from a ‘thing-relationship’ to concern for others--a change which tolled the death knell for my engineering career in the defense industry.”

Bob became involved in subterfuge at Lockheed in 1970, involving the use of secret classifications to deceive the public. The first strategic arms limitation talks (SALT) were just getting under way. Simultaneously, a public outcry to ban the MIRV was gaining momentum. Lockheed and the Navy realized that such a ban could lead to cancellation of the Poseidon missile contract which would mean a profit loss for Lockheed, to say nothing of depriving of the Navy of its newest weapon. A task force was set up to investigate other types of warheads which could be used on Poseidon in case MIRVs were outlawed.

At first this effort was openly called SALT Studies. But as the cry to ban the MIRV grew louder, it became apparent that this would be a sensitive issue if people found out that Lockheed and the Navy were trying to evade arms limitation. The task force was moved behind secret doors and given the code name of CAFE; the relationship between SALT negotiations and CAFE became secret information. It was clear that secrecy was being used only to prevent the American people from discerning the government’s lack of sincerity in the area of disarmament.

It was about this time that design studies were started on the new Trident missile. Bob was then a leader of an advanced reentry system design group. He was given design responsibility for the maneuvering reentry vehicle (MARV) for Trident. To acquaint himself with maneuvering technology he reviewed many secret reports which revealed the Pentagon’s interest in greater accuracy for missile warheads. Such precision was not needed according to our long-standing deterrent policy, which threatens massive retaliation only if attacked. Increased accuracy is only necessary if the Pentagon is planning to destroy targets, such as missile silos. To do that means shooting first; it doesn’t make sense to retaliate against empty silos.

Bob saw this policy switch over three years before it was finally revealed to the American public. It had actually started about 1965 when the United States finished its buildup of intercontinental ballistic missiles and missile-launching submarines. Robert McNamara, Secretary of Defense at the time, said that U.S. emphasis would thereafter be on quality improvements. This led to a more aggressive military policy. Because of the overkill in deterrent capability, it was becoming harder to justify more weapons. But improving the quality still sounded reasonable--and that touched off a new sprint in the arms race.

We now read quite openly in the papers that the U.S. might use nuclear weapons first under some circumstances, but such brazen proclamations would not have been accepted at the beginning of this decade. In 1970 it had a traumatic effect on Bob to find them shrouded in secrecy.

No longer could he repress sinister facts from his thoughts, nor was rationalization effective. Another means was needed to salve his conscience. We became active as peace information coordinators for the National Association of Laity, a Catholic lay organization working for church renewal and social reform. In that work we were exposed to more international study and research.

The new knowledge of how multinational corporations’ behavior, the substance of our own livelihood, was oppressing poor people at home and abroad made Bob’s position even more untenable. We could see that our superficial involvement in peace work had no real roots. But we also tried to convince ourselves that if we were not enjoying the lush salary and ample fringe benefits from this macabre livelihood, they would only go to someone else. Yet Janet could see that Bob was being torn apart inside because of the work he was performing. She prepared herself psychologically for the impending change.

For slightly over a year we depended on bomb-building for our survival and worked for peace as a hobby. Eventually this hypocritical existence became unbearable. Early in 1972 we agreed that, regardless of the effect our action would have, we had to follow our consciences. We started planning our escape from the military-industrial complex. Bob would have to give up engineering, as it would be practically impossible to find such a job in our area not tied to a military contract.

It was important to us that the children should share in our decisions insofar as they were capable. We talked our plans over with them and answered their questions. At family meetings we let their fears and ours be heard.

We learned from the example of Jim and Shelley Douglas, whom we met in the first months of our “liberation plan.” Jim’s book, Resistance and Contemplation: the Way of Liberation, revealed their struggle to give up security and accept suffering for the whole family.

We had voiced the same fears and asked the same questions, but we hadn't listened well enough to understand the answers. We had to see someone actually try the road before we could venture on it. We had leaned too much on precedents, which were nothing more than crutches for our weak determination. Our subjective morality had to yield. We had to act on our own convictions.

We set the date for January of 1973. Immediately after the Christmas holidays Bob would tell Lockheed he was leaving. We would start the new year with a new life.

Janet started looking for a job immediately. She wanted to work with handicapped children and had been taking courses in vision therapy. But when she found an instructional aide opening in the school system, she took it. Janet adjusted to a work schedule after spending the past quarter century reflected our desire to deepen our marriage relationship by abolishing the traditional roles of husband and wife, and by sharing all the chores, joys, trials and responsibilities equally. The first overt step toward the transition was made.

During his last month on the job Bob discussed our decision with co-workers. Some were sympathetic and one even congratulated him for making the move. But they could not imagine taking similar action themselves. The need for financial security was too deeply ingrained. That singular fear is probably the greatest obstacle to moral action in today's society.

When the guarded gates of Lockheed clanged shut behind Bob for the last time, we started cutting expenses as an economical necessity. We ate less meat and experimented with new recipes that give a balanced diet at less expense. Second hand shops became our source of clothing. We discovered ways to reduce spending and new approaches to pleasure without having to "buy" entertainment.

For us, simple living began by revising our work pattern. Work in the traditional sense usually occupied about half of our waking hours; we tended to center our lives around it, which prevented us from seeing our labor in proper context. It had become an end in itself, rather than the means of living; occupational success outshone all other values.

Living on a large salary, measuring success by income, does violence to the 94 percent of the world's population who must survive on only half the global wealth. We sometimes attempted to alleviate that disparity by donations to "charity," but that type of giving merely numbed our consciences, and in no way approached charity in its gospel sense. Ambrose, bishop of Milan during the fourth century, said about token giving: "You are not making a gift of your possessions to the poor man. You are handing over to him what is his. For what has been given in common for the use of all, you have arrogated to yourself."

There are arguments that one can live simply on a large salary while using the excess for good works, but we have never seen them lived out. Voluntary poverty is not a comfortable thought for the affluent and thus their judgement of simplicity becomes distorted. Too often worldly excesses are rationalized away by willingness to be "poor in spirit."

But a spirit of poverty amid wealth is impossible. That's why Jesus suggested selling all. Voluntary poverty does not mean destitution, but it does require putting our whole being into it.

Our family has only scratched the surface of simple living. And overall effort of trying to live a nonviolent life—wife, husband, and children together—is difficult, because affluence has become so deeply ingrained. But the main thing as we see it is that our family is feeling its way. To us that means really believing Jesus' teachings—saying we are Christians and trying to live it, saying we are nonviolent and trying to act nonviolently. We are trying to be less greedy as we search for ways to reduce our own needs so there will be enough to go around. Life is still scary, but we attempt to follow our consciences and rely on faith.