This summer, my colleagues were reporting on the Department of Education’s “final mission,” the department’s efforts to undermine public education even as the Trump administration worked diligently to shut it down.
As they do with all stories, reporters asked people who might be featured in the story for comment. And so began a journey that demonstrates both our focus on giving people the opportunity to comment on the subject of our articles, and the aggressively unhelpful backlash we’ve faced this year when seeking information and answers to questions.
Megan Omatsu, a Wisconsin-based reporter for ProPublica’s Midwest team, first requested an interview with the department’s news bureau in mid-August. At the same time, we sent emails to senior government officials making important decisions within their agencies, including Lindsey Burke, deputy chief of staff for policy and programs, and Meg Kilgannon, director of strategic partnerships.
In response to Kilgannon’s request, department spokeswoman Madison Biedermann told Omats, “Please direct all media inquiries to: [email protected]” That day, Ms. Biedermann was contacted on her cell phone and said she would be happy to look into the request. I asked for a response within a week.
At the time, the station’s published news phone number seemed like a black hole, with a recorded message saying it was “temporarily closed.” (It still shows that.)
After hearing nothing further, Omatsu emailed the press office again on August 18th, and again on August 28th with further questions. She left a follow-up message on Biederman’s cell phone. And they were also in Burke’s cell, including being in Burke’s husband’s cell when ProPublica was trying to find a way to contact Burke directly. To ensure fairness and accuracy, it is our long-standing practice to reach out to people who participate in our stories and to ensure they have an opportunity to respond to the stories. You want to get answers before you publish your article, not after.
When Ms. Kilgannon’s cell phone was reached on August 29, she said she had no comment and hung up before Ms. Omatsu could explain what we were planning to publish about her and her work. She subsequently did not respond to an email with those details.
On September 8, still not hearing from Mr. Burke, Mr. Omats contacted the department’s chief of staff and wrote, “We would like to speak with the Secretary and Dr. Burke. . . . Could you help us make that arrangement?” A week later, ProPublica arranged for a letter to be delivered to Ms. Burke’s home via FedEx outlining what we had found so far in our reporting and letting her know if there were any inaccuracies or if additional context was needed. We invited her again to speak with us, comment and provide additional information.
Finally, on September 17, Mr. Biedermann wrote: “I just heard from a colleague at the ED[Department of Education]that you sent these inquiries in writing to their home address. This is highly inappropriate and unprofessional. You also contacted the employee on your personal cell phone and email, and even contacted the employee’s family. This is alarming. Please do not use the employee’s home address or relatives as a contact.” (emphasis mine)
ProPublica responded the next day saying it was common practice for journalists to contact the people they were writing about. “In fact, it is our professional obligation,” Omatsu wrote.
Biedermann said: “Contacting individuals about work matters at their private addresses is not journalism. That is exactly what intimidation is. It is especially unacceptable in today’s political climate. We have received your inquiries (by email, phone call, and text message, both at work and personal email addresses) and have made the conscious decision not to respond, as we have every right to do so.”
“You are never entitled to a response from us or anyone,” Biedermann wrote.
To be clear, prior to receiving this email, the department had not informed Ms. Omatsu that she would be responding to her inquiries and would not be commenting. This article was published on October 8, about two months after we first contacted the department. (I highly recommend reading it.)
The world has come a long way since the days of movies like “All the Presidents” and “Spotlight.” These were films that favored journalists knocking on doors and trying to contact sources to tell important stories — in this case, about Watergate, which led to the resignation of President Richard Nixon, and the abuse scandals that engulfed the Roman Catholic Church in Boston and elsewhere.
Bob Woodward (left) and Carl Bernstein in the Washington Post newsroom in April 1973. More than 50 years have passed, and reporters have gone from being respected to being vilified. Ken Feil/The Washington Post via Getty Images
President Donald Trump has touted his administration as the most transparent administration in history, but at the same time executive branch agencies are deleting data sets and deleting public information. President Trump has called news organizations “fake news” and used derogatory terms for individual reporters. In this environment, journalists found themselves being maligned rather than appreciated for their efforts to tell the truth and be impartial. Rather than being praised, they are criticized.
Consider what happened to Doug Bock Clark, a reporter in ProPublica’s south office. Clark was working on a story about North Carolina Supreme Court Chief Justice Paul Newby, who reshaped the court to make it more partisan.
Newby would not talk to Clark, so Clark interviewed more than 70 people who knew Newby publicly and privately, including former North Carolina judges, judges, legislators, and longtime friends and family. Mr. Clark contacted Mr. Newby’s daughter, Sarah, who is the treasurer of the North Carolina Republican Party.
When ProPublica emailed questions to Sarah Newby, North Carolina Republican Party communications director Matt Mercer wrote that ProPublica was waging “jihad” against the “North Carolina Republican Party” and “does not accept any dignified comments.”
“I’m sure you’re aware of our relationship with the Trump administration, and I’m sure they have an interest in this issue,” Mercer said in an email. “I strongly suggest that you stop talking about this.” (Emphasis was Mercer’s.)
Or consider what happened to Bernal Coleman, a Midwest office reporter who has been covering the Department of Veterans Affairs as part of the team this year. They reported that doctors and others at VA hospitals and clinics have occasionally sent desperate messages to headquarters explaining how the Trump administration’s cuts will negatively impact veteran care. (The Department of Veterans Affairs provides medical care to about 9 million veterans.) And between January and March of this year, nearly 40% of doctors offered jobs at the agency reported turning it down.
Coleman pursued an interesting story and identified a potential source in Michigan. Coleman went to the man’s home to try to contact him. He introduced himself as a reporter and explained why he was there. They had a pleasant conversation, but the person ultimately refused to talk about the VA without his superior’s prior permission.
Days later, Veterans Affairs Secretary Doug Collins posted a tweet accusing Coleman of trying to “stalk” the employee.
As reporter Gina Barton explains in a 2023 Milwaukee Journal Sentinel column, door knocking is not stalking. In fact, federal employees have a First Amendment right to speak to the press, and courts have ruled against policies that prevent them from doing so.
Like my colleagues, I reached out to the people featured in this article and gave them the opportunity to comment.
“I would appreciate it if you would print the first and second parts so that readers can understand ProPublica’s ‘journalistic’ methods,” Biedermann wrote.
Mercer wrote, “Doug Bock Clark needs a hobby besides his weird obsession with North Carolina judges. Maybe knitting or surfing. Have a nice day!”
“Mr. Vernal’s uninvited visits to veterans’ homes were disrespectful, creepy, and stalker-like,” Peter Kasperowicz, a VA spokesman, wrote in a statement.
“We condemn all violence and threats of violence, but the director has done nothing more than publicly highlight Mr. Bernal’s actions,” Kasperowitz said after Collins tweeted about Coleman. ProPublica does the exact same thing with literally every article it writes. ProPublica’s website says it wants to “promote reform by continuously shining a spotlight on wrongdoing.” The fact that you’re complaining about the spotlight being on one of your own reporters proves that you’re just a bunch of hypocrites. ”
Let me be clear: Coleman did nothing wrong. The same goes for Omatsu and Clark. I am proud to call them colleagues. They exemplify what fairness in journalism looks like.
As 2026 approaches, ProPublica remains committed to telling stories of public interest and providing opportunities to comment on the subjects of our stories. As members of the public who rely on accurate reporting, you should expect the same.
