How to test American strength

American physical education is largely concerned, at present, with two focuses: sports and longevity. Both are misplaced.

First, much of our curriculum is full of units that are at best redundant (and at worst regressive) for teenagers who are already engaged in after-school athletics coached by specialists. These same units are essentially useless for non-sports-participating students who will move on to individual fitness pursuits upon graduating. A hard truth too few adults accept is that sports are for kids. Competition is important -- essential, probably -- for developing into an independent and capable adult. But assigning sports undue weight post-adolescence, the way teachers do when they create idols of professional athletes and carry on conversations about their fantasy football teams, is a sign of misplaced values. In a world full of hunger, violence, illness, and ignorance, a focus on games and sports is both juvenile and dangerous.

Training for longevity, meanwhile, is critical but uninspiring. What good is a long life if its impact is insignificant? Lessons on improving health and extending lifespan can and have been distilled into very simple guidelines that can be taught in several hours. Does anyone need reminding that whole vegetables are healthier than processed fast food? Does anyone doubt that walking the stairs is a better choice than taking the elevator? We all know what we should be doing - we’re just not doing it. Which begs the question: Why not? One plausible answer is that too few of us grasp any compelling or immediate reason to make difficult but correct choices.

We have argued in a previous essay that the reason to train is to build a capacity for heroic action. In summary, we should aim to be able to rescue ourselves and others from bad situations, defend the defenseless, and set the example for others so they too can become physically capable citizens. What remains is a question: how then should we assess our readiness, given these conclusions? The answer is satisfyingly simple.

The best test of essential physical capabilities already exists. It was developed with American tax dollars, can become a national standard by which we can understand our physical preparedness, and tests every important measure of strength and endurance. In short: we should all be training for the Army Combat Fitness Test.

Unlike current tests that mistake muscular endurance for strength, and bias heavily toward students with lithe physiques, the ACFT is a realistic measure of an individual's true physical capacity across multiple domains. The trap bar deadlift tests true strength. The medicine ball throw tests power and explosive capabilities. The hand-release push-up eliminates the subjectivity of the 90-degree push-up and tests muscular strength. The sprint-drag-carry tests lifesaving ability. The leg tuck measures vitally-important grip and abdominal strength. The two-mile run measures endurance and offers a diagnostic for durability. With such a test already created, tested, and implemented, we need not reinvent the wheel as PE teachers. Student (and teacher!) ACFT performance is a standard we can implement now to develop a true American Strength Class.

No, the ACFT is not perfect. No test is. But the most common complaints against the ACFT are weak. First, some believe the ACFT requires too much equipment and is too difficult to administer. Yet those are simply obstacles that must be overcome in order to adequately test an individual's ability to perform arduous tasks; you can't test strength without the ability to scale resistance, and resistance here comes in the form of bars, plates, kettlebells and the like. There's just no way around that. In terms of time devoted to the test, a longer evaluation is a small price to pay for a healthy population capable of saving each others' lives if needed, especially given that such summative assessments are given fairly rarely. Finally, the argument that the ACFT is difficult to train for says much about the environments we've created for ourselves or found ourselves in, but nothing about the creative ways we can train in such places. The ACFT is non-specific enough to allow test-takers to train in myriad ways and with countless strategies and equipment options.

The protestations from public school teachers will likely be instinctive and swift: Is the job of the American PE teacher to become a military recruiter? Are we training our children for war? Well, no and maybe.

The first and most obvious rebuttal here is that the origin of a test says nothing about its quality; had the YMCA or a fellow teacher developed such a comprehensive and coherent test of fitness, its value to us would be neither better nor worse. Secondly, let’s not shrink away from the Army reflexively. Despite politically-correct opinions in education that eschew teaching anything even tangentially related to violence, mature adults recognize that a professional military is an essential part of a free society. Teenagers should not be shielded from this reality. Violence is at times unavoidable. Fires are violent; car accidents are violent; crime is violent. Being able to survive these things, and being able to help others to survive them, is a worthy goal. And just because a student is fit enough to succeed in the Army doesn’t mean they have to.

There are other, more philosophical, reasons to embrace the ACFT. It is, in no uncertain terms, difficult. (Ask anyone who has honestly tried their hardest in a three-rep-max deadlift or all-out two-mile run how pleasant those experiences were.) Such honest challenges gird us against the fragility it seems is expanding in our society by the day. Toughness begets toughness, which is an attribute that serves our students far beyond graduation.

Training for the ACFT can help us cohere as a society. At a time of unprecedented division in our country, a national and standardized baseline fitness expectation is a small step toward unity. Much has been made of the current civilian-military divide. Despite the United States armed forces engaging in conflicts around the world, less than one percent of Americans currently serve in the military. More alarmingly, less than 30% of Americans between 17 and 24 currently qualify to join the military, even if they wanted to -- and 87% of young Americans surveyed in one study expressed no interest in joining at all. Like it or not, as an American citizen, our military does represent you. It does impact lives worldwide. Understanding the military, and even training to its physical standards, is the mark of a responsible member of society.

Finally, the disconnect between school and adulthood is far too pronounced. As the old joke goes, “I don’t know how to pay my taxes, but I know the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.” We learn certain lessons as students; we start over with new knowledge and behaviors after graduation. It’s asinine. Adopting an age-independent national fitness test, which we can first take as teens then use to test and retest ourselves throughout our lives, is a streamlined approach to maintaining high standards for ourselves and our fellow citizens. In a world that demands less and less of us during easy times, but is as unforgiving as ever when things go wrong, we cannot afford to delay much longer.

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*There is one caveat to the American Strength Class support of the ACFT: the ability to max out certain portions of the test is inconsistent with maintaining high standards and promoting healthy competition. In contrast, no maximum marks exist in track and field's decathlon, ensuring an impressive progression by athletes through the ages. Contrary to recent controversy about the ACFT scoring being too difficult for certain populations, we can see that scoring 100 points in certain events is simply too easy. As evidence, here are the results for freshmen girls in a local track meet. Every entrant would have maxed the two-mile run. Similar results from events in any given city and year would prove this point. The ASC recommendation is for the Army -- and, lacking its will, a group of PE teachers -- to develop scoring that accounts for truly elite aspirations.