There is a social contract at the heart of democratic governance. An unwritten agreement that the people lend their power to the state, and in return, the state remains answerable to them. That contract does not survive in the dark. When citizens cannot see how decisions are made, how public money is spent, or how laws are enforced, they do not simply grow frustrated, they stop believing.

The erosion of trust in government is not merely an abstract political problem. It cascades through every institution that depends on public confidence: the courts, the legal profession, law enforcement, public health agencies, regulatory bodies. The willingness of ordinary people to engage with civic and legal processes to make complaints, cooperate with investigations, seek redress, testify, even vote depends on a foundational belief that the system is honest. Without transparency, that belief withers.

“A popular government without popular information, or the means of acquiring it, is but a prologue to a farce or a tragedy.”
— JAMES MADISON, AUGUST 4, 1822

What the Freedom of Information Act Actually Does

Signed into law by President Lyndon B. Johnson in 1966, the Freedom of Information Act, commonly known as FOIA, established a presumption that federal government records belong, in a meaningful sense, to the public. It created a legal mechanism by which any person, journalist, researcher, business, advocacy group, or attorney could request access to records held by federal agencies, with limited and defined exceptions.

The exceptions matter and deserve acknowledgment: classified national security information, internal personnel rules, trade secrets, certain law enforcement records, and a handful of other categories may be withheld. FOIA was never designed to be unlimited. But its design logic is significant: the default is disclosure. The burden falls on the government to justify withholding information, not on the public to justify wanting it.

Since 1966, most states have passed parallel open record legislation, often called “sunshine laws”, extending similar principles to state and local government. The architecture of public accountability that resulted is one of the defining features of American civic life, even when it operates invisibly.

The Cost of Opacity: When Trust Breaks Down

To understand why transparency law matters, consider what happens in its absence, or in the perception of its absence. Distrust of government institutions has measurable, concrete effects on how people interact with the legal system.

Research in legal sociology consistently finds that communities with low institutional trust are less likely to report crimes, less willing to serve as witnesses, and more likely to resolve disputes through informal or extralegal means. When people believe the courts are stacked, or that agencies act in the interest of the powerful rather than the public, their rational response is to disengage.

The transparency paradox: Governments that operate in secrecy to avoid scrutiny ultimately generate more scrutiny in the form of conspiracy, suspicion, and corrosive cynicism than transparent governments ever would. Secrecy does not protect institutions.

FOIA as a Democratic Tool, Not Just a Journalistic One

FOIA requests are often associated with investigative journalism, and for good reason. Some of the most consequential reporting of the past half-century has depended on records obtained through public records requests. But journalists represent only a fraction of those who use the law.

Lawyers use FOIA to build cases, challenge agency decisions, and expose procedural irregularities. Researchers use it to study how policy is actually made versus how it is announced. Businesses use it to understand regulatory environments. Ordinary citizens use it to find out why a permit was denied, how a contract was awarded, or whether an agency followed its own procedures.

This matters for trust in a way that goes beyond any individual disclosure. The existence of a functioning FOIA mechanism changes the relationship between citizen and government even for people who never make a request. It means that government agencies operate in the knowledge that their records can be scrutinized. It introduces an accountability pressure that shapes behavior.

The Threats Worth Taking Seriously

FOIA’s promise and FOIA’s reality have always existed in tension. Agencies have substantial latitude in how they respond to requests: timelines are frequently missed, exemptions are sometimes applied broadly, fee structures can be prohibitive, and the appeals process is cumbersome. In some periods and some agencies, the posture toward disclosure has been effectively adversarial.

Critics across the political spectrum have raised legitimate concerns about these gaps. A law that exists on paper but functions poorly in practice is not the same as a law that functions well. The question of whether FOIA is adequately resourced, whether penalties for non-compliance are sufficient, and whether exemptions have expanded beyond their original intent are genuine policy questions and not abstract ones.

At the same time, the answer to a transparency law that is imperfectly enforced is better enforcement, not abandonment of the principle. The case for robust public records access rests not on whether every request is handled perfectly, but on what kind of society we wish to inhabit: one in which government is presumptively open, or one in which the public must take institutional honesty on faith.

Participation Requires Trust; Trust Requires Transparency

The deeper argument for FOIA is not about any particular scandal it has uncovered or any specific accountability it has produced. It is about the conditions necessary for civic life to function at all. A society in which people feel shut out of the processes that govern them is a society in which the habits of democratic citizenship atrophy.

People stop filing legal complaints because they do not expect fair outcomes. They stop cooperating with investigators because they do not believe investigators serve their interests. They stop engaging with regulatory processes because they suspect the processes are captured. They stop voting, or vote only against rather than for, because they no longer believe the outcome will be connected to their participation. These are not irrational responses to opacity. They are reasonable adaptations to an environment in which information asymmetry makes trust a liability.

A Living Principle in Need of Defense

The Freedom of Information Act is nearly sixty years old. Its principles have been tested, strained, interpreted, litigated, expanded, and contracted. It remains, for all its imperfections, one of the most important structural guarantees of accountable government in the American legal tradition.

Its importance is not diminished by technological change. If anything, the age of digital records, algorithmic decision- making, and opaque agency data systems makes the underlying principle more urgent, not less. The question of who gets to see how decisions are made has not become less consequential. The platforms have changed. The stakes have not.

For those who worry about institutional legitimacy, declining civic engagement, and the fracturing of public trust, FOIA is not the whole answer. But it is part of the infrastructure of repair. A government that is willing to be seen is a government that is at least presenting itself for accountability. That presentation is the beginning of trust. And trust, however slowly and unevenly it is built, is the foundation on which everything else depends.

For survivors, accessing investigation records is about more than just satisfying a need for personal closure. These documents are often crucial to understanding how their cases were handled, whether proper procedures were followed, and if justice was truly served. Yet, by refusing to release these records, the Coast Guard appears to be sending a clear, troubling message: survivors do not have the right to know how the institution responded to their trauma. This stance not only isolates survivors but also undercuts public trust in the Coast Guard’s ability to handle such cases with integrity.

During a hearing held by the Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations earlier this year, Senators Richard Blumenthal and Ron Johnson confronted Coast Guard Commandant Admiral Linda Fagan over the institution’s refusal to provide un-redacted documents related to sexual assault investigations, despite their repeated requests.

Holding up pages and pages of heavily redacted files, the senators expressed frustration over the Coast Guard’s persistent lack of transparency. Blumenthal and Johnson pressed Admiral Fagan on why the Coast Guard continued to withhold critical information that could shed light on its handling of sexual assault cases, especially when Congress itself had requested access to these records. The heavily blacked-out documents were a striking visual symbol of the stonewalling that victims have faced, casting serious doubt on the Coast Guard’s commitment to transparency. This hearing underscored the growing concerns that the Coast Guard’s leadership may be hiding critical information that Congress and the public deserve to know.

It’s no secret that many institutions, from universities to large corporations, have a history of suppressing information on internal misconduct to protect their reputations. But for an institution like the Coast Guard, whose very mission is rooted in service, honor, and transparency, this behavior is especially disheartening. The refusal to release records gives the impression that the Coast Guard is more concerned with protecting itself than with supporting the people who have come forward in the hopes of seeing justice done.

Moreover, this resistance to transparency might hint at deeper issues within the Coast Guard’s response to sexual assault. By blocking access to investigative records, the Coast Guard raises questions about its handling of these cases and whether victims’ rights are truly prioritized. The institution may fear that, if the records were made public, they could reveal a pattern of mishandling, insufficient resources, or even misconduct by those responsible for investigating cases of sexual assault.

Ultimately, the question remains: what does the Coast Guard have to hide? Survivors deserve answers, and so does the public. In withholding these records, the Coast Guard appears to be more interested in guarding its own image than in providing justice and transparency. Until it proves otherwise, this pattern of secrecy will only continue to erode trust, leaving a haunting question about what the Coast Guard is so afraid of revealing.

In recent years, the Coast Guard Academy (CGA) has faced intense scrutiny following revelations from Operation Fouled Anchor—a widespread investigation that exposed decades of unaddressed sexual misconduct and institutional cover-ups. These findings have left many wondering how such a culture could develop and thrive within a revered institution, and, more importantly, how it might be dismantled. One potential avenue for cultural transformation at CGA is through accountability lawsuits, which can demand transparency, uphold victims’ rights, and set standards that safeguard future cadets.

As a recent Senate report on Operation Fouled Anchor put it, the Academy’s “culture of ostracization, shaming, and disbelief deterred victims of abuse from reporting” and discouraged transparency at every level . Through the courts, these plaintiffs are challenging these toxic norms, compelling CGA to take accountability for a culture that has allowed pervasive sexual misconduct to persist unchecked.

The Power of FTCA Lawsuits to Demand Accountability and Transparency

A significant problem identified in the Senate report is CGA’s lack of transparency and accountability when addressing sexual misconduct. Senator Richard Blumenthal highlighted that, despite CGA’s claims of a commitment to transparency, the Academy often resisted providing critical information to the subcommittee investigating these issues. As the report underscores, “Until the Coast Guard is willing to fully reckon with its failures, it will remain tethered to them” . By demanding accountability through the FTCA, these lawsuits challenge CGA’s resistance to full disclosure and force a confrontation with the institution’s failures.

The FTCA also offers an avenue to address the Academy’s past failures to prosecute sexual misconduct as criminal matters, often treating cases as administrative issues instead. According to the Senate report, CGA historically mishandled sexual misconduct cases, often prioritizing cadet perpetrators’ careers over victims’ well-being. Victims reported cases being adjudicated through non-judicial punishments rather than criminal trials, a process that one whistleblower described as a “slap in the face to all of his victims” . Such lawsuits can demand justice not only for individual cases but also for policy reforms to prevent similar failures in the future.

Reclaiming Voice and Power for Victims

By filing accountability lawsuits under the FTCA, these 22 former cadets are reclaiming their voices and pushing for institutional recognition of the harm caused. The Senate report highlights testimonies from cadets and whistleblowers who faced ostracization and disbelief when they reported sexual assaults, often leading to career-ending consequences for victims rather than their perpetrators. Legal action allows victims to hold CGA accountable for this culture of betrayal, demanding reforms that affirm the rights and dignity of future cadets.

Toward a Safer and Transparent Academy

Beyond individual justice, these FTCA lawsuits have the potential to drive systemic changes within CGA. They set a precedent that challenges the stigma surrounding reporting, strengthens protections for future cadets, and compels CGA to become a place where honor, respect, and duty are truly upheld. For those pursuing these lawsuits, the ultimate goal is not only accountability but also a safer and more transparent Academy, where every cadet’s well-being is prioritized.

US Coast Guard Academy, New London, CT

A Legacy of Concealment and Missed Accountability

Historically, the Coast Guard has hidden key findings from internal investigations, most notably in Operation Fouled Anchor, an investigation conducted from 1990 to 2006 that uncovered more than 100 cases of sexual misconduct at the Coast Guard Academy. Despite the severity of the findings, the results were kept hidden from Congress and the public for over a decade, allowing many perpetrators to continue their careers without facing meaningful consequences. This decision not only failed the victims but also endangered future members by preserving an environment where misconduct could continue unchecked.

The FY 2022 Sexual Assault Report mirrors this troubling trend, revealing that out of 226 reports of sexual assault during the year, only a small fraction led to substantial legal action. Many cases resulted in either no action or minimal administrative measures. These weak responses highlight the ongoing gap between reported misconduct and actual accountability, reinforcing the urgent need for transparency and stronger institutional response to protect Coast Guard members.

Transparency and Accountability: The Missing Link

Both reports emphasize that transparency is essential for holding perpetrators accountable and fostering a culture of accountability. Without transparency, there is no way to ensure that investigations are being conducted properly or that perpetrators are being disciplined appropriately. For instance, the FY 2022 Report revealed that of the 176 unrestricted sexual assault investigations initiated, 118 were still pending at the close of the fiscal year . This delay, compounded by a lack of updates on case outcomes, erodes trust within the ranks and sends a message that misconduct can be overlooked or handled without urgency.

When members of the Coast Guard see that investigations drag on and often result in minimal punishment, it discourages victims from reporting incidents and leads to a culture of silence. One example from the Voices of Coast Guard Survivors report tells of a cadet who continued to live near her assailant, with no immediate protective action from leadership. The lack of decisive action in such cases contributes to a dangerous atmosphere where victims are left vulnerable and perpetrators feel emboldened.

The Coast Guard’s Promises and Reforms

In response to these persistent issues, the Coast Guard has made public promises to improve transparency and accountability. In the FY 2022 Report, Admiral Linda Fagan announced a 90-day Accountability and Transparency Review aimed at addressing the gaps in the Coast Guard’s handling of sexual misconduct. While the recommendations resulting from this review are in various states of completion, the review seeks to improve the accuracy of reporting, the timeliness of investigations, and the communication of case outcomes, all of which are essential for restoring trust in the organization. It remains to be seen if it will have any success in changing the culture around sexual assault and harassment in the US Coast Guard.

Additionally, the Coast Guard has committed to reforms such as establishing the Office of the Chief Prosecutor (OCP), which will have independent authority to decide whether to prosecute sexual assault and other serious offenses. This shift aims to remove the potential for command bias in prosecution decisions, placing responsibility in the hands of experienced legal professionals. However, it remains to be seen whether the OCP is leading to a greater number of prosecutions or stricter consequences for offenders.

Is the OCP Leading to More Prosecutions?

While the creation of the OCP is a step toward reform, questions remain about whether it is effectively increasing the number of cases being prosecuted and delivering justice for victims. Public data on the OCP’s case outcomes and prosecution rates has been limited, leaving doubts about its impact. If the Coast Guard is serious about rebuilding trust and addressing sexual misconduct, it should publicize improved prosecution rates and outcomes to show that real progress is being made. Greater transparency in how the OCP handles cases will allow both Congress and the public to hold the Coast Guard accountable and ensure that reforms are not just theoretical but leading to meaningful change.

The Role of Transparency in Cultural Change

Ultimately, transparency is critical for changing the culture of sexual misconduct within the Coast Guard. By openly reporting on the outcomes of investigations and prosecutions, the Coast Guard can demonstrate its commitment to accountability. Transparency reassures members that misconduct will not be tolerated and that their reports will be handled with the seriousness they deserve.

For victims, transparency in the process ensures that their voices are heard and their cases are addressed, rather than buried in slow-moving investigations or closed-door decisions. When survivors see that investigations lead to real consequences for offenders, they are more likely to come forward and trust that the institution is working to protect them. The ongoing scrutiny is necessary to ensure that these changes lead to real cultural transformation. The more the Coast Guard reveals about its efforts and results, the more likely it is to rebuild trust, protect its members, and create an environment where misconduct is met with swift and appropriate action.

The reports to Congress paint a troubling picture of the Coast Guard’s long-standing issues with transparency and accountability in sexual misconduct cases. Both past and present failures have perpetuated a culture where perpetrators often face few consequences, while victims are left to fend for themselves. By embracing transparency and publicizing meaningful reforms, the Coast Guard can begin to shift this culture, ensuring the safety and well-being of its members and restoring its credibility as a service committed to justice and integrity.

A recent Senate report chaired by Senator Richard Blumenthal brings to light disturbing accounts of widespread sexual misconduct within the U.S. Coast Guard, focusing on systemic failures that have spanned decades. The report, titled A Pervasive Problem: Voices of Coast Guard Sexual Assault and harassment Survivors is based on testimony from more than 80 whistleblowers—both current and former cadets and enlisted members—who detailed a culture of silencing victims, inadequate investigations, and repeated failures to hold perpetrators accountable.

Senator Blumenthal, who has been spearheading the investigation, did not mince words when describing the severity of the issue. “This moral failure has been allowed to spread, hidden behind closed proceedings, honorable discharges, and a look-the-other-way mentality,” Blumenthal said. He emphasized that the Coast Guard’s leadership has repeatedly failed to address the pervasive sexual assault and harassment occurring at the U.S. Coast Guard Academy and in the fleet.

A Deeply Ingrained Culture of Abuse and Silencing

The report reveals that the issue of sexual misconduct is far more entrenched than previously understood, extending far beyond isolated incidents. Whistleblowers describe a culture where reporting sexual harassment or assault often led to retaliation, shaming, and career-ending repercussions. One whistleblower, an Academy cadet assaulted in 2020, shared how classmates immediately shunned her after she made an unrestricted report of her assault. “They wouldn’t look me in the eyes,” she said, adding that her attacker spread false rumors that she was a liar and mentally unstable.

Victims often faced intense peer pressure to remain silent, fearing not only retaliation from their peers but also punishment for collateral misconduct. Many were blackmailed by their attackers, who leveraged minor infractions like underage drinking to keep their victims quiet. As one whistleblower explained, “He blackmailed me, using his position over me and the fact that I drank underage to get me to have sex with him. He knew that I would get into more trouble for underage drinking than he would for blackmailing me for sex.”

Systemic Failures in Investigations and Accountability

The report underscores repeated failures by the Coast Guard to investigate reports of sexual misconduct adequately. Many victims shared their experiences of being retraumatized during the investigatory process. In several cases, victims learned that their attackers were never criminally prosecuted, and in some instances, continued to serve alongside them. Instead of facing courts-martial, perpetrators often received minor punishments through the Coast Guard’s non-judicial punishment (NJP) process, which one whistleblower described as “a slap on the wrist.” In another instance, a survivor learned that her attacker would be honorably discharged, enabling him to re-enlist elsewhere.

These failures extended to Operation Fouled Anchor, an internal investigation conducted from 1990 to 2006. The investigation uncovered 102 instances of rape, sexual assault, and harassment at the Academy but withheld its findings from Congress for over a decade. Although the Coast Guard identified 63 potential victims and 43 alleged perpetrators, only a handful of cases were referred to military or law enforcement for action, and the majority of perpetrators faced no meaningful consequences.

Blumenthal expressed deep frustration at this lack of accountability, stating, “The culture will not change until the Coast Guard makes clear that sexual assault and harassment will not be tolerated.” He called for “meaningful, swift, and consistent accountability” for both perpetrators and the leadership that has allowed these failures to continue unchecked.

The Impact on Survivors: Lasting Trauma and Lost Careers

For many survivors, the long-term effects of sexual assault or harassment were profound and life-altering. Several whistleblowers shared that their mental and physical health had been deeply impacted, with lasting effects such as PTSD, depression, and anxiety. In some cases, survivors were pressured to leave the Academy or end their military careers early due to the trauma they endured. As one whistleblower put it, “Being raped is bad enough. But the institutional betrayal has been more damaging for me. It was the culture.”

Many survivors reported inadequate medical care and a lack of support services following their assaults. One whistleblower recalled reaching out for help decades after her assault, only to be offered medication without any meaningful conversation or guidance. “I wasn’t reaching out for medication, I was reaching out to talk to someone, to tell someone. To be heard by someone,” she said.

Moving Forward: Demands for Reform

Senator Blumenthal’s report makes it clear that the problem of sexual assault and harassment within the Coast Guard is not a relic of the past but a persistent issue that continues to affect current servicemembers. Survivors described a culture where sexual misconduct is tolerated and where policies intended to protect them are either ignored or inadequately enforced. Blumenthal emphasized that reform must begin with leadership taking responsibility and committing to transparency.

“Reform requires that the Coast Guard stand behind its rhetoric and make the hard choices necessary to redress harms of the past and build a better future,” Blumenthal said, urging the Coast Guard to match the courage of the survivors who have come forward. Until such reforms are enacted, Blumenthal warned, the Coast Guard will remain tethered to its failures.

This report paints a troubling picture of a broken system, one in which victims have been failed repeatedly, while perpetrators often evade accountability. The Senate Subcommittee’s investigation remains active, and Blumenthal has pledged to continue holding the Coast Guard accountable to ensure that future generations of servicemembers do not endure the same injustices.

The stories and experiences shared in this report continue to serve as a call for reform—one that can no longer be ignored.