Hows ‘bout the Dog House (What’s wrong with the 3rd Amendment)

brown short coated dog sitting on brown wooden floor

So you think the 3rd Amendment must be important? Maybe you’re right. It’s in the Top-10, so it must be meaningful. Sure, it might be overshadowed by pleading the 5th in court. It’s certainly trumped by the exercise of 2nd Amendment rights in Kenosha. But be honest—you have no idea what the 3rd Amendment is, do you?

Amendment III

No Soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the Owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law.

WTF?! I know, right. You’re already changing your mind about any importance this Amendment has in this day and age. But I don’t want you to make my job too easy here, so hold firm in your Bill of Rights love for at least the next few paragraphs.

Let’s begin with the rather vague war time aspect of this sentence: . . . nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law. Sounds like lunch was ready a little earlier than expected, so they just wrote down a generality before the porridge got cold. But the grain-induced vagueness doesn’t stop there. If the U.S. was at war with Bhutan on their generally peaceful soil, could laws still be passed requiring you to become a B&B for troops 7,000 miles away from the action? The Amendment doesn’t stipulate where the war is.

Nor does it specify which nations are fighting the war. I don’t believe there’s been a single second in recorded history when there wasn’t a war occurring somewhere in the world. Technically, North and South Korea have been at war since 1950. They’ll probably stay that way until one side nukes the other, which given their proximities to one another might not be the best game plan. Maybe any war, anywhere in the world, is enough to appease the 3rd Amendment’s final clause. All we need is an executive order to convert Bezos’ $165 million, 13,600 sq. ft. LA mansion into a playground for our men and women in uniform, giving them as much right to the estate as Trump has to nominate the next Supreme Court Justice. (And yes, I believe Trump has every right to make that selection.)

In times of peace, however, this Amendment gets really interesting. No Soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the Owner. . . Interpreted literally, this means that soldiers can’t live in any house unless the owner says it’s okay. So the only way a soldier can guarantee a place to lay their head is if they legally own the dwelling. Say a male soldier’s residence is in his wife’s name, and she becomes irate after the “Distracted Boyfriend” meme plays out in real life. As the homeowner, if she wants him out of the house, the 3rd Amendment prohibits our gawking soldier from staying. Perhaps we’ve come upon the true claim to fame of the 3rd Amendment: the origination of the idiom “In the dog house.” Even then the dog would have to give permission—a whole ’nother topic of consent.

Anyway, who in their right mind could say “No” to a soldier seeking refuge for a night after a long day’s journey via horseback across the open plains of—. Okay, I really have no idea why a member of the military would have any reason whatsoever to seek a night’s lodging in a civilian’s home these days. Maybe after a couple too many rounds on “$5 Bucket & Karaoke Night” he tries his key in your apartment door, believing it’s his barracks. Sure, you’ll call him an Uber—or if he’s really drunk, a Lyft—but you’re certainly not going to deny him entrance by citing the 3rd. The Amendment’s totally unnecessary.

Further argument is probably not required, but I’ve made a habit of writing two full pages, so I’m gonna meet my quota. This idea might be a bit of a stretch, but venture down the rabbit hole with me, if you would. Somewhere out there is a soldier renting a room as a sublet, in strict violation of the sublessor’s original lease agreement banning such subleasing. In this case the soldier would be quartered without consent of the owner of the house, thus breaching our useless Amendment, and with it the Constitution as a whole.

Furthermore, our lawless soldier uses his military paycheck to pay for his illegal housing. Paychecks that are made possible through taxes paid by millions of Americans. Each and every tax-payer becomes complicit in violation of the 3rd Amendment. Therefore, the argument should be made that taxes cannot be used to pay military salaries due to their extreme likelihood of unconstitutionality. This places any law-abiding citizen in a catch-22: directly breaking federal tax law if they don’t pay taxes, and complicity in an unconstitutional act if they do.

Ultimately, time has passed this Amendment by. Times change, and perhaps so should our Constitution. It’s a living, breathing document. The Constitution makes three references to slavery—while never using the actual ‘S’ word—yet today slavery is agreed to be every kind of wrong. Prohibition was enacted as the 18th Amendment, only to be repealed 13 years later by the 21st; the latter being unnecessary if not for the former. Those may be the only two Amendments more meaningless than the 3rd, serving now as nothing more than a history lesson. If three Amendments can become essentially meaningless, what’s to say all others cannot as well? If something mentioned thrice in the Constitution can now be universally condemned, how much long-term faith can be prescribed to the remainder of this living, breathing document? Does not everything that lives and breathes, eventually die?

So, you still think the 3rd Amendment is important just because it falls safely under the auspices of the Constitution? Imagine the following. A soldier on your doorstep, looking like a giant in his tactical vest with all the accoutrements, highlighted by an extended finger alongside the trigger of his M4 Carbine—making Rittenhouse’s AR-15 look like a pea-shooter. As urine dribbles down your leg, it’s good to know you’re Constitutionally protected in answering “No” before slamming the door in his face. So, I guess, yeah, come to think of it . . . You’re Probably Right.