This is an opinion column.

I think…

I heard…

That’s how our senior U.S. Senator makes decisions. Critical decisions. Decisions impacting people’s lives. Decisions affecting national security.

Decisions already shaming us and may well soon punch Alabama in the gut.

We should all salute Air Force General Charles Q. Brown Jr. A third-generation veteran and distinguished ROTC graduate, he earned copious military honors and accolades and commanded a fighter squadron, the U.S. Air Force Weapons School, two fighter wings and U.S. Air Forces Central Command.

Three years ago, Donald Trump, whom our senior senator drools over, nominated Brown to serve as Chief of Staff of the United States Air Force. The whole thing. He was unanimously confirmed—98–zip.

And yet, our senior senator proudly staked a claim as one of 11 Republicans who recently voted against Brown’s nomination (by President Joe Biden) as chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the most vital military voice in the ear of the President, Secretary of Defense, and to the National Security Council. Our primary military voice to the world.

The nomination easily passed, 83-11, as well it should. Yet our senior senator sullied the ascension just as he sullies just about everything—including our state—when he speaks.

I think…

I heard…

“I think he has some woke policies.” That’s how our senior senator began to explain his ‘nay’ vote. (I’ll waste as little ink—or rather, bytes—as possible here noting that our senior senator and his far-right anti-“woke” ilk are clueless about the meaning of the word and toss it around like petulant children hurling spit wads at anyone, or anything they don’t like. Or understand.)

“I heard some things that he talked about,” our senior senator continued, “about race and things that he wanted to mix into the military.”

What our senior heard was Brown’s desire for more women and people of color in the Air Force. Among AF pilots, only about 2% are Black. (Brown is African American, only the second Black to serve as the nation’s highest military officer; the late Gen. Colin Powell, of course, was the first.)

More from our senior senator:

“[Brown] came out and he said we need certain groups, more pilots. Certain groups to have an opportunity to be pilots. Listen, I want it to be on merit. I want our military to be the best. I want it to be the best people. I don’t care who they are. Men, women. It doesn’t make any difference. Catholics, Protestants. Don’t give me this stuff about equal opportunity because that’s not what this military is about.”

These are dangerous words—as dangerous to our nation as our senior senator’s hard-headed blockade stalling a flotilla of much-needed military appointments.

Dangerous because, if unchallenged, they set us back decades, back to an era many died to overcome. An era when racism was baked into our institutions. When segregation was legal—even in our military.

Our senior senator’s words put “opportunity” and “merit” in opposition. They equate “opportunity” and “best” to oil and water—unmixable.

They remind me of an encounter more than three decades ago with a senior executive at Time Inc., then the largest and most successful magazine company in the world (R.I.P.), following a meeting between members of the newly formed diversity committee and corporate leaders. Among the committee’s challenges to execs: Expand your Rolodex (if you remember those, smile) to ensure a broader pool of applicants for all positions; stop relying on the same call-your-buddy hiring strategy utilized in corporate America since the dawn of time.

As we left the room, one of the execs turned to me: “Don’t we already have the best people?”

My response: “How do we know if we only hire from the same spaces we always have rather than searching all spaces for talent?”

Our senior senator believes, based on his words, that giving “certain groups” (a poorly disguised euphemism for Black folks) and “opportunity” is antithetical to being “the best”.

“Don’t give me this stuff about equal opportunity because that’s not what this military is about.”

His words are unequivocally wrong—this military, which by federal law banned the enlistment of Black soldiers until 1862, has had an equal opportunity policy for 75 years since President Harry Truman signed an executive order desegregating the military and guaranteeing “equality of treatment and opportunity for all persons in the armed services without regard to race, color, religion or national origin.”

Of course, given our senior senator once misnamed the three branches of government, I’m not at all surprised he doesn’t know basic military history.

His words are also unequivocally racist—deeming “certain groups” as less than the “best”. Deeming efforts to further diversify our military cockpits as conflicting with our desire, our demand, to be the best.

Don’t give me that stuff, senior senator.

Don’t give us that stuff, senior senator. Again. And again. And again.

And since you brought it up (“It’s like a football team I coached. You can’t have different groups.”): Don’t give us that stuff when, as an ex-coach—the main attribute that got you elected by Alabama Republicans too lazy to assess your qualifications—you certainly tried to field “the best” by recruiting “certain groups”.

Groups you now say were good enough to play for you yet not enough to pilot our military.

RELATED: Tuberville is Alabama’s senator with no clothes

Our senior senator dangerous words and actions will increasingly make him a pariah on Capitol Hill, even among his own. Republican leader Sen. Mitch McConnell called Tuberville’s military holds a “mistake”. GOP Sen. Susan Collins said she’s “concerned about” our senior senator’ petulant stance.

That should be a real concern for all Alabamians because Collins vice-chairs the Senate Appropriations Committee. If Republicans begin to steer shy of our increasingly toxic senior senator, how does it affect his ability to steer appropriations our way?

I don’t think I know the answer, haven’t heard the answer.

I know the answer—and it isn’t good for us. Our senior senator isn’t good for us.

More columns by Roy S. Johnson

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Alabama … a State of Fear

Clarence Thomas and Republicans are mocking us all.

Alabama’s non-parole board shows we’re not serious about prison, justice reform

Do we want our children to go to school or prison? State funding levels provide an answer

I’m a Pulitzer Prize finalist for commentary, a member of the National Association of Black Journalists Hall of Fame, and winner of the Edward R. Murrow prize for podcasts for “Unjustifiable,” co-hosted with John Archibald. My column appears in AL.com, as well as the Lede. Check out my new podcast series “Panther: Blueprint for Black Power,” which I co-host with Eunice Elliott. Subscribe to my free weekly newsletter, The Barbershop, here. Reach me at [email protected], follow me at twitter.com/roysj, or on Instagram @roysj