Our Reporters Reached Out for Comment. They Were Accused of Stalking and Intimidation.

 

Our Reporters Reached Out for Comment. They Were Accused of Stalking and Intimidation.

Our journalists reach out to people they’re writing about to ensure fairness. But in this environment, they’ve found their efforts to do so are more likely to be vilified than appreciated.

by Charles Ornstein

December 29, 2025, 5:00 am

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This summer, my colleagues were reporting out a story about the Department of Education’s “final mission,” its effort to undermine public education even as the Trump administration worked feverishly to close the agency.

As we do with all stories, the reporters reached out to those who would be featured in the article for comment. And so began a journey that showed both the emphasis we place on giving the subjects of our stories an opportunity to comment, as well as the aggressively unhelpful pushback we’ve faced this year as we’ve sought information and responses to questions.

Megan O’Matz, a reporter based in Wisconsin on ProPublica’s Midwest team, first asked the department’s press office for an interview in mid-August. At the same time, we emailed top administration officials who were making crucial decisions within the agency, including Lindsey Burke, deputy chief of staff for policy and programs, and Meg Kilgannon, director of strategic partnerships. 

In response to the outreach to Kilgannon, department spokesperson Madison Biedermann told O’Matz to “Please direct all media inquiries to press@ed.gov.” Reached on her cellphone that day, Biedermann said she was happy to look into the request. We asked for a response within a week.

At that time, the published press phone number for the department appeared, at all hours, to be a black hole, with a recorded message saying it was “temporarily closed.” (It still indicates that.)

Hearing nothing more, O’Matz emailed the press office again Aug. 18. And again Aug. 28 with detailed questions. She left follow-up messages on Biedermann’s cell. And on Burke’s cell, including once on her husband’s cell as ProPublica tried to find a direct way to contact Burke. To ensure fairness and accuracy, it is our long-standing practice to try to reach those who are part of our stories so that they have an opportunity to respond to them. We’d rather get responses before we publish an article than after.

Reached on her cell Aug. 29, Kilgannon said she had no comment and hung up before O’Matz could explain what we planned to publish about her and her work. She did not respond to a subsequent email with those details. 

On Sept. 8, still hearing nothing from Burke, O’Matz reached out to the department’s chief of staff, writing: “We have been seeking to talk to the secretary and to Dr. Burke. … Can you help us arrange that?” A week later, ProPublica arranged for a letter to be delivered via FedEx to Burke’s home outlining what our reporting had found so far and to let us know if anything was inaccurate or required additional context. We invited her again to talk with us, to comment or provide any additional information.

Finally, on Sept. 17, Biedermann wrote: “Just heard from an ED (Education Department) colleague that you sent these inquiries in writing to their home address. This is highly inappropriate and unprofessional. You have also reached out to employees on their personal cell phones, emails, and even reached out to employee’s family members. This is disturbing. Do not use an employee’s home addresses or relatives to contact them.” (The emphasis was hers.)

ProPublica replied the following day that it’s common practice for journalists to reach out to people we are writing about. “In fact, it’s our professional obligation,” O’Matz wrote.  

Biedermann responded: “Reaching out to individuals about a work matter at their private address is not journalism — it is borderline intimidation. In today’s political climate it is particularly unacceptable. We received your inquiries (via email, phone calls, text messages, both on work and personal email address) and made a conscious decision not to respond, as we have every right to do.”

“You are not entitled to a response from us, or anyone, ever,” Biedermann wrote. 

To be clear, at no time prior to this email did the department tell O’Matz that it had received her inquiries and would not comment. The article ran on Oct. 8, about two months after we first contacted the department. (I would highly encourage you to read it.)

The world has come a long way since the days of “All the President’s Men” and “Spotlight,” movies that favorably portrayed journalists knocking on doors and trying to reach sources to tell important stories — in those cases, about the Watergate break-in that led to President Richard Nixon’s resignation and the abuse scandal that enveloped the Roman Catholic Church in Boston and beyond.

Bob Woodward, left, and Carl Bernstein in the Washington Post newsroom in April 1973. More than 50 years later, reporters have gone from venerated to vilified. Ken Feil/The The Washington Post via Getty Images

President Donald Trump has labeled his administration the most transparent in history, but at the same time, agencies in the executive branch have taken down datasets and pulled down public information. Trump has called the press “fake news” and called individual reporters derogatory terms. In this environment, our journalists have found that their efforts to get the real story and be fair were vilified rather than appreciated. Condemned, not commended.

Take what happened with 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 has remade the court to make it more partisan. 

Newby wouldn’t talk to Clark, so Clark interviewed over 70 people who know Newby professionally or personally, including former North Carolina justices and judges, lawmakers, longtime friends and family members. Clark reached out to Newby’s daughter, Sarah, who is the finance director of the North Carolina GOP.

When ProPublica emailed questions to Sarah Newby, the North Carolina Republican Party’s communications director, Matt Mercer, responded, writing that ProPublica was waging a “jihad” against “NC Republicans,” which would “not be met with dignifying any comments whatsoever.” 

“I’m sure you’re aware of our connections with the Trump Administration and I’m sure they would be interested in this matter,” Mercer said in his email. “I would strongly suggest dropping this story.” (The emphasis was Mercer’s.)

Or consider what happened to Vernal Coleman, a reporter in our Midwest office who has been reporting on the Department of Veterans Affairs this year as part of a team. They’ve reported how doctors and others at VA hospitals and clinics have sent sometimes desperate messages to headquarters explaining how the Trump administration’s cuts would harm veterans’ care. (The VA provides health care to roughly 9 million veterans.) And they’ve reported how nearly 40% of the doctors offered jobs at the VA from January through March of this year turned them down.

Coleman was pursuing a story of interest and identified a potential source in Michigan. In an effort to contact them, Coleman visited the person’s home. He introduced himself as a reporter and explained his reasons for being there. They had a pleasant conversation, but the person ultimately declined to speak about the VA without prior authorization from their superiors. 

A few days later, VA Secretary Doug Collins sent out a tweet that accused Coleman of trying to “stalk” the employee. 

Door-knocking is not stalking, as reporter Gina Barton explains in this 2023 Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel column. Indeed, federal employees have a First Amendment right to talk to the press, courts have ruled as they’ve invalidated policies preventing it.

Just as my colleagues did, I reached out to those featured in this article to give them an opportunity to comment. 

Biedermann wrote, “Sincerely hope you print the entire back and forth so that readers understand the ProPublica method of ‘journalism.’” 

Mercer wrote: “Doug Bock Clark needs a hobby besides his weird obsession with North Carolina’s judges. Maybe knitting or surfing. Have a nice day!”

And VA spokesperson Peter Kasperowicz wrote: “Vernal’s uninvited visit to the home of a VA employee was rude, creepy and stalker-like. No VA employee should have to worry about being accosted at home by an uninvited reporter whose sole mission is to make their employer look bad.”

When told that Coleman had received threatening notes after Collins tweeted about him, Kasperowicz wrote: “We condemn all violence and threats of violence, but the secretary simply publicly highlighted Vernal’s actions. ProPublica literally does the exact same thing in every story it writes. ProPublica’s website says it wants to ‘spur reform through the sustained spotlighting of wrongdoing.’ The fact that you are whining about the spotlight being turned on one of your reporters proves you’re nothing but a bunch of hypocrites.”

To be clear, Coleman did nothing wrong. The same is true of O’Matz and Clark. I am proud to call them my colleagues. They exemplify what fairness in journalism looks like.

As 2026 approaches, ProPublica remains committed to telling stories of public interest and continuing to offer the subjects of our stories an opportunity to comment. As members of the public who rely on accurate reporting, you should expect no less.