Ep. 20 DOL 2: Delete Another Day

Ep. 20 Delete Another Day

[AI VO]

Before we start, a quick heads up. Some of the voices you'll hear reading documents in this podcast are AI generated, but the words are real. They come straight from public records, produced by real people inside government. 

Further, if you're a public employee who's been asked to bend the rules, or if you've seen something that just doesn't sit right, we want to hear from you, confidentially, off the record. Your identity stays with us. You can reach out to us at contact at the public records officer.com. 

[AI VO]

You're listening to the public records officer podcast, where we fight for your right to know. Now, here's your host, Jamie Nixon. 

[Nixon]

Hello and welcome. This is the public records officer podcast. I am your host, Jamie Nixon. 

This is part two of our two-part look at the department of licensing's administrative law office. Part one was called DOL one, seven days to die. Because we covered a February 12th, 2025 teams chat that happened just five days before governor Bob Ferguson announced he was suspending Washington's automatic deletion of teams chats. 

In that chat, DOL hearing examiners discussed petitioners, attorneys, hearing strategy, objections, order language, and then one hearing examiner suggested another could, quote, help us all out, unquote, by bumping an attorney with her car hard enough that he might argue hearings from a hospital bed. This chat was the kind of public record Washington's seven day deletion policy was designed to erase. Then governor Ferguson stopped the clock. 

The chat survived. And once the chat did survive, DOL's problems changed. The issue became what DOL did once everyone realized the records were being kept and released to requesters. 

And that brings us today to our sequel, DOL two, delete another day. And no, no one can stop me from naming these like terrible nineties action movies. It's just too fun. 

So let that go. A quick note also about the receipts for part one. We've got a little bit of email traffic on this. 

We are not publishing that full February 12th DOL teams chat on the website. And it's not because the record is weak. It's all there. 

We are limiting what we're publishing because some of the pages contain private details about people who appeared before the department of licensing include medical references, breathalyzer tests, facts, interpreter issues, family involvement, payment plan details, other case specific information. Those people are not public officials. They did not sign up to be part of this story. 

And the hearing examiners did. So the public packet is excerpted. Instead of the full 43 pages, we linked to a 13 page packet. 

We are showing the portions that mattered to government accountability. We're leaving out the private party details that would add embarrassment without adding accountability, I think. Because the point here ultimately is not to expose the people who went before DOL. 

The point here is to expose what people inside DOL said when they thought that that chat would disappear. And now we are going to talk about what they said after they realized that chat did not disappear. We pick it up a few months after the February chat. 

By May 2025, the Department of Licensing's Administrative Law Office knew there was a problem. A May 6th agenda for a hearing examiner meeting references an appeals case. The agenda says the appeal included a declaration and exhibit that had snippets of a team's chat that involves several hearing examiners on the subject of Brangwyn and Burke and the hearing tactics. 

[AI VO]

The agenda says this exactly. Basic water cooler stuff, but taken out of context and isolated, it looks unfortunate. 

[Nixon]

It looks unfortunate, does it? It looks that way. It looks unfortunate because the records show hearing examiners talking about specific attorneys, hearing tactics, and ruling language in a casual team's chat on a platform that five days later would become part of the statewide auto deletion scandal. 

It looks unfortunate because attorney John Brangwin later wrote to DOL saying he had discovered that hearings examiner Will Jacobson suggested that another hearing examiner strike either Brangwyn or his law partner Jeremy Burke with her car with enough force to cause hospitalization. 

[AI VO]

Today, for the first time, I discovered that Mr. Jacobson on February 12th, 2025, suggested one of your other hearing examiners strike either me or my law partner, it's not clear who, with their car forceful enough to cause hospitalization. I am not going to sit idly and allow a member of the WSBA threaten or suggest physical violence and injury to my law partner or me. I will be reporting this incident to the WSBA Office of Disciplinary Counsel. 

[Nixon]

Brangwyn also said he was deeply troubled that other hearing examiners did not report the misconduct or tell Jacobson it was inappropriate, but instead took the time to laugh about it. And that's the problem with calling this, you know, basic water cooler stuff. The water cooler, in this case, is not a magical jurisdiction-free zone. 

If your water cooler stuff includes discussing live hearing tactics, attorney objections, order language, and jokes about hitting counsel with a car, maybe the problem is not that the public is taking the record out of context. Perhaps the context itself is the problem. And the May 6th agenda shows management knew this issue was headed for the attorney general's office. 

[AI VO]

The agenda says management, including Jonathan, will meet this Thursday to discuss the matter with the AG's office. 

[Nixon]

So DOL knew that the chats looked bad and that they may show up in appeals. DOL knew that the attorney general's office needed to be involved. So what happened next? 

Did the Department of Licensing launch into a full-throated recommitment to transparency? Did they tell staff something along the lines of, hey, these records belong to the public. Please treat teams like a public workspace. 

Treat petitioners with dignity and attorneys with professionalism. Oh, and, you know, perhaps stop making the public records team clean up after your wholly unprofessional group chats. They didn't exactly say that, no. 

The records we have show a workplace that started treating public records as a threat. They show hearing examiners or judges and supervisors worried not merely about privacy, but about disclosure itself. Now the central damning document here is an email from DOL's Audrey Ross sent on June 17th, 2025 to a long list of DOL hearing examiners and administrative law office staff. 

We will be making this complete record available with no redactions at all on the website. Just go to publicrecordsofficer.com, find the link to this episode, go through the transcripts and show notes, and you will find links to the record. Few records I've obtained capture the sickness in Washington's public records culture in a more fulsome or clear way as this one does. 

It is all in here. Suspicion of the record staff, resentment towards requesters, casual talk of deletion, magical thinking about exemptions, search for disappearing communications tools, and a belief that public access is something to be managed around rather than honored. But the most revealing part is the contempt directed at the public records response team itself. 

The record staff did not create these embarrassing chats. They did not mock petitioners. They did not workshop rulings and teams. 

They did not joke about hitting an attorney with a car. They did their jobs. They pulled records responsive to a public records request and inside DOL's administrative law office, that basic act of legal compliance was treated as some kind of betrayal. 

The subject line of Ross's email reads PRR town hall meeting recap. 

[AI VO]

Good morning, judges. 

[Nixon]

And that's how Ross opens, judges. Just so we can underline how these people are seen and referred to. Again, these are hearing examiners, administrative law judges. 

These are public officials exercising quasi judicial power over members of the public. And here is what one of their supervisors reports back after a meeting with the public records requesting. 

[AI VO]

I learned that the PRR team does pull our chats and emails in response to PRR requests without informing us they are doing so. They justified this action because of the volume of their requests. 

[Nixon]

Right off the bat problems. I mean, just bang, let's go jump right in. There is nothing unusual at all about a public records team collecting records from agency systems without first involving every staff member whose records may be searched. 

In fact, that's the better practice if that can complete the request. When record staff can identify, collect, and process responsive records directly, they avoid unnecessary disruption to frontline staff. The agency's work continues. 

The records team does its work. The requester receives the records the law requires. This is how a mature records process should actually function. 

The public records team is not required to treat every search like a personal accusation against the employee whose records are being collected. These are agency records on agency systems created in the course of public work, which ultimately means they belong to the public, to the requesters. So the revealing part here is not that the public records team collected chats and emails. 

The revealing part here is that DOL's administrative law office apparently experienced that lawful collection as something worthy of their collective suspicion. Ross continues. 

[AI VO]

Marguerite took issue with their response to No. 1 and told them she questioned how onerous it would really be to let the individual know. But the PRR team just said that was something they could consider, or some other pretty much useless response. 

But who knows? Maybe that change would come down the road. 

[Nixon]

Then the email turns to protective orders. 

[AI VO]

Discussions about giving us notice so the person could seek a protective order. But my take on their position was that was pretty much poo-pooed by them, and they made some comments about not protect it anyway. Despite no one on the PRR team being an attorney, they seemingly think they know the law and are bulletproof to our concerns. 

[Nixon]

Oh, there it is. The public records response team, the records staff, the people who are supposed to help the agency comply with the Public Records Act are described as being non-attorneys who seemingly think they know the law. God, that one deserves a long, slow stare into the middle distance, right? 

Look, if you are a public records officer or records staffer inside a state agency, this is probably going to sound familiar to you, I can imagine. When agencies get caught with embarrassing records, often, somehow, the people who find the records become the problem. Not the public officials who created the mess or the staff who typed the ugly record. 

The problem becomes the public records person who had the audacity to comply with the law. I mean, this is like blaming the smoke detector because the kitchen's on fire. It's totally absurd. 

And for the record, public records professionals often know this area of law better than the attorneys casually dunking on them in internal emails. And that's because those record staff live their work lives within this statute. They live inside these exemptions, the deadlines, the searches, the production logs, all that stuff. 

Meanwhile, many attorneys know the Public Records Act the way I know TikTok dances. I mean, just theoretically, with resentment, and not in a way anyone should rely on publicly. Then Ross moves on to what she calls double deleting. 

[AI VO]

The PRR team did say that double deleting emails does actually remove them. And they suggested that if you want to not have it released. But of course, that requires both the sender and the recipient to delete for that to be 100% effective. 

[Nixon]

My Lord, let's hear that one part again. 

[AI VO]

If you want to not have it released. 

[Nixon]

This is not privacy training or a carefully framed discussion about retention schedules. That is a sentence about making a record unavailable for release. Double delete it. 

Both sender and recipient. 100% effective. Now, the Department of Licensing later told Shauna Sowersby for her July 2nd article about this whole situation, which you should definitely go read. 

That double deleting simply means clearing the deleted items folder. And that this is standard records management for records that have met their retention schedule or are transitory. This can be true in some circumstances. 

Records that have met their retention schedule can and should be disposed of. Truly transitory records can be deleted when they are no longer needed. But context matters. 

The context here is not a neutral records retention training memo. The context is a supervisor telling hearing examiners about records requests, chats, emails, protective orders, distrust of the public records response team, and workarounds and loopholes. Then the email turns to supervisory files. 

[AI VO]

The PRR team said information in supervisory files was exempt from release. But when Marguerite asked how they know what is a supervisory file, they had no answer that seemed clear to me. As a precaution, I went in and named the folder where I keep all your files as supervisory file. 

Do not release for PRR requests. 

[Nixon]

Oh, good. That always inspires confidence. Just rename the folder. 

Nothing says legally sound exemption analysis like slapping do not release for PRR requests on a folder and open the statute of bides. This is not how the Public Records Act works. You do not make a record exempt by putting it in a folder with a couple of magic words on it. 

If that worked, every agency in the state would have one giant folder called nice try peasants. Personnel records may contain exempt information. Some supervisory materials may require redaction or withholding depending on you know the statute. 

Some records may be withheld under lawful exemption of which there are hundreds. But the exemption comes from the law and the content and not from the file or the fucking folder name. Supervisory file do not release for PRR requests is not a legal exemption category. 

It's an awesome joke, but it's not going to stop me from getting the records. I requested all the records from that folder, just so you know, just to put that there. Yeah, I requested every single one and I expect to get all of them. 

And if I don't get all of them, we'll move on from there. Ross then moves on to write about the contributions from the judges in this meeting. 

[AI VO]

We had some excellent contributions in discussion and in the chat from our judges, but I'm not sure the PRR team cared. 

[Nixon]

The public records response team did not care. Again, the framing of the public records team is not quite getting it here, right? Not the PRR team had to follow the law or record staff have to balance these exemptions and these redactions with public access. 

Just they did not care. Then comes the for a new communications channel that will auto delete for these judges to use. 

[AI VO]

I did ask about ALO getting a transitory method of communication like Jabber. Marguerite is looking into this. At a subsequent management debriefing of sorts, we did manage to ascertain that Jabber is being replaced by another application, but that the state does have several types of transitory communication methods. 

So maybe we can have one of those approved for us. 

[Nixon]

Ah, yes. Jabber, the AG's favorite disappearing ink app. Whenever government employees get nervous that records may be discoverable, someone eventually whispers, is there another tool? 

Is there another place we can have this conversation? And this is where the episode earns its Bond-esque title reference. DOL had already lived in the one day deletion basement. 

Then the seven day deletions policy comes along and then Ferguson suspends that policy. Then after the embarrassing chats start surfacing, DOL's administrative law office asks whether it can get another transitory method of communication. Let me translate that for you. 

If this platform no longer disappears the way we thought it did, is there another one that does? We would really like to be able to work in secret and this one does not let us do that anymore. The aforementioned attorney Jeremy Burke, who was one of the attorneys these judges joked about hitting a car with, was quoted by the Seattle Times about this research for a new transitory method of communication. 

He told the Times that he believed that inquiry was, quote, clear intent to circumvent, unquote, the public records act. Now the Department of Licensing later told the Seattle Times that the suggestion to use Jabber did not mean DOL believed apps like Jabber were outside the public records act. Fine. 

That's the right answer. Jabber is subject to the public records act if used for agency business. But that's not the only issue. 

The issue is why the Department of Licensing's administrative law office was actively searching for a more transitory communication method while discussing public records requests tied to embarrassing internal communications. The issue is not whether Jabber is legally subject to the PRA. The issue is this mindset that goes to looking for a more vanishing platform after the old vanishing platform stopped vanishing. 

Ross was not done. 

[AI VO]

In light of all the above, I did create a new folder in my email called Delete Soon. If you do email me about something that is short term and doesn't need to stay in old mail or the purported safe supervisory file, just put Delete Soon at the top of the email and I'll stick in the Delete Soon file and delete as soon as whatever the issue is done rather than hold on to it for longer. 

[Nixon]

Delete Soon. Not records requiring retention review, not potentially transitory administrative communications, just Delete Soon. Outstanding. 

A folder name so on the fucking nose it should come with a dude twisting his mustache, right? There are records that can be lawfully deleted, to be clear. That's not the problem. 

Again, the problem is the culture revealed by these words in their collective form in this one email, right? The problem is that this email is not merely teaching staff how to apply retention schedules. It is teaching them how to think about and avoid future embarrassment. 

How to route, label, and use different channels to avoid creating records at all. Ross says this directly. In total, it is a discussion about how to hide the public's work from the public. 

Full stop. Then she goes out to the public records staff a little bit more. 

[AI VO]

On a personal note, I don't trust the PRR team. That is probably enough said. 

[Nixon]

It wasn't enough, however. She couldn't help herself. She moved on. 

[AI VO]

I did let them know the feedback I had received on their interactions has led to comments labeling them as unconcerned, flippant, arrogant, and demeaning. They did not respond to that comment in the chat. 

[Nixon]

Well, no kidding they didn't respond in the chat. How would one respond to such a scurrilous assessment? They are records professionals in a room full of fancy high-born agency lawyers or judges who are expressing great anger that their team's chats and emails can be pulled in response to a public records request per the damn law. 

That's not even a conversation. That sounds more like a professional hostage-taking scenario of some kind. 

[AI VO]

Then Ross writes, they said the right things about wanting to work with us, but experience has shown that to be a lie in my personal opinion and in my professional observation. 

[Nixon]

A lie. 

A lie. That's what Audrey Ross calls it. The public work with the administrative law office and Ross tells this long list of judges and staff that experience has shown that to be a lie. 

Hey, uh, Audrey Ross from me and I'm guessing from the department of licensing records handling crew. Why don't you stop being such a snide elitist asshole? This is the kind of arrogance the public gets when government officials with titles start believing the law is something other people are supposed to deal with. 

To these kinds of judges, you are obligated to follow the law, not them. I mean, what was the public records response team supposed offense here, right? They pulled public records in response to a public records request. 

That's it. Job done. For that, they get called untrustworthy, painted as arrogant and demeaning and treated like hostile outsiders inside their own agency. 

Meanwhile, the people who created the records, the people who said the words, made the jokes, discuss the rulings and embarrass the entire office, they're casting themselves as the victims. Well, fuck that. Absolutely not. 

Who do you think you are? Audrey Ross? I know one thing you should be, and that is not employed by the state of Washington. 

The record staff did not betray the Department of Licensing here. Department of Licensing's own records expose Department of Licensing's own conduct. Your colleagues did the betraying here. 

Then comes a recommendation from Ross that is all too familiar at this point. 

[AI VO]

Meantime, as always, I'd suggest trying to use video chat and meetings more to avoid creating a record and double deleting emails that contain sensitive information that you would not want disclosed. 

[Nixon]

I mean, just avoid creating, or you know me, ideas how many times I've seen this in records. Hey, can we take this offline? I mean, it's just, I mean, this is not a privacy policy or transparency. 

It is not responsible public administration. It is avoidance. And it is breathtaking to see it written this plainly by someone addressing judges. 

Just thinking out loud here. If the records are embarrassing, perhaps the answer is not fewer records, right? Perhaps, just maybe. 

The answer is better conduct and even more transparency, not less. If the public records team is finding things you do not want disclosed, the answer is not to attack the public records team. The answer is to stop creating records that reveal one's contempt for the public attorneys and the law. 

This is the moment the mask falls off, right? The problem was never just one ugly team's chat. The problem is this culture that sees public access itself as the threat. 

Now, Ross wraps this up by saying, basically, most daily work probably will not have personal information released and that now they know the rules of the game. 

[AI VO]

For most of us, it's probably more that the idea is offensive more than the actual impact. This is not to minimize in any way those of use that have had personal information released or potentially released. But now that we know rules of the game, we can work within those restrictions better. 

[Nixon]

Now? Really? This email just meant several paragraphs treating the public records staff like arrogant amateurs who don't know what the fuck they're doing. 

The public records team was supposedly dismissive, untrustworthy liars, not attorneys, not sufficiently deferential to the very serious legal minds of the administrative law office. And then Ross turns around and tells the judges that now they know the rules of the game. So which is it? 

Are the record staff bumbling around outside their lane? Or are the judges only now figuring out how public records work inside their own agency? Did all of these top shelf legal minds not understand their obligations under the Public Records Act? 

Because that is the part that makes the snide elitist tone even worse. The email looks down on the public records response team while quietly admitting these administrative law judges did not understand the terrain they were stomping around in. And again, remember what's driving the alarm? 

The alarm isn't, oh no, the public may see how we talked about petitioners. It's not, you know, our group chat might raise appearance of fairness concerns. No, the anxiety is framed around personal information, embarrassment, and how to work within the rules of the game going forward. 

You know, while privacy matters, it cannot be used as a velvet curtain to hide abusive or unprofessional conduct by public officials. The PRA is not a game. The public is not your opposing team. 

The record staff are not referees you're supposed to be trying to fool. The goal isn't to learn how to work around disclosure. The goal is to conduct public business professionally in a way that can withstand public scrutiny. 

The people of Washington created the Public Records Act because they understood something public officials seem to keep forgetting. Power requires supervision. And in a democracy, that supervisory role belongs to we the people. 

Now, of course, DOL has some defenses to all this. DOL was asked whether this town hall was due to a specific records request. DOL Reponds 

[AI VO]

This meeting concerned the disclosure of a large volume of records in response to a public records request, some of which included private medical information that had been shared between colleagues. 

[Nixon]

If employees were sharing medical information in agency systems, then yes, DOL needs to address that. That's an important matter. However, the remedy for mishandled private information is lawful records management, better training, careful redaction, clearer boundaries, and perhaps telling staff to stop putting deeply private material in work systems. 

The remedy is certainly not to use video chat meetings more to avoid creating a record. DOL was also asked why the public records response team was telling staff that double deleting removes emails and why a supervisor was encouraging video chat and meetings to avoid creating records. DOL answered. 

[AI VO]

Records that have met their retention schedule or are transitory can and should be deleted for fiscal responsibility. Double deleting simply means clearing the deleted items folder in their email inbox. This is standard records management. 

In addition, the supervisor encouraging video chat was a reference to the private medical information discussed in the first question, not a general encouragement to avoid creating records. 

[Nixon]

So fiscal responsibility, standard records management, private medical information, again, parts of that are true in isolation. Records that have met retention can be deleted. Private information should not be casually disclosed. 

But the records do not let DOL shrink this into a neat little privacy management issue. That's not what this is. Because the June 17 email does not simply say, be careful with medical information. 

It says double deleting, delete soon, supervisory file do not release for PRR requests. It asks about a transitory communication method like Jabber. It says the public records team can't be trusted. 

It recommends video chat and meetings to avoid creating records. If DOL wanted this to look like standard records management, they should have written standard records management guidance. Instead, they looked for a way to delete another day. 

Regrettably, the hostility did not end there. A few months later, October 2025, another chat shows DOL staff reacting to a request involving photos. There were real privacy concerns in that chat too. 

People were worried about family photos, maternity leave information, children, personal lives. Again, understandable concerns. The reaction though, quickly turns towards treating the request itself as creepy, terrifying, or somehow threatening. 

One person asks how to define work-related saying a photo of a new baby is not work-related. Another says penalties should not enrich the requester because that gives them incentive. Let me translate that part in English. 

They do not like that the PRA has penalties for failure, for noncompliance. They do not like that requesters may have legal remedies when agencies and the judges who work for them violate the law. I know it's a shocking update from the department of people who prefer no consequences, but here's the thing. 

Penalties aren't a prize wheel. You know, you only come in, they just like hand you fabulous prizes from behind door number three. They are a deterrence. 

They exist because as judges should know, without consequences, agencies can delay, destroy, dodge, and shrug it off. Instead of getting worked up that public records penalties exist to dissuade noncompliance, maybe you should be mad that agencies keep creating violations. I don't know, just a thought. 

Public records penalties do not fall out of the sky like civic confetti. Someone has to actually break the law first. The October chat also includes a much more sober and legally useful comment from Marta Reinholdt. 

[AI VO]

Any communications or images exchanged using agency-issued equipment may be disclosable. Hence the disclaimer when we log on each morning. 

[Nixon]

Awesome. It sounds like an adult finally entered this chat. If you use agency equipment systems, accounts, or agency time to exchange information, you are creating a public record. 

You can dislike or be annoyed by that. You can think the requester is a jerk and that the law is inconvenient, but luckily for the public, your feelings are not an exemption. Fast forwarding to just a couple months ago, March, 2026, we get a perfect little epilogue to this whole thing. 

An email goes out correcting misinformation Audrey Ross had given earlier that week. 

[AI VO]

Any communications or images exchanged using agency-issued equipment may be disclosable. Hence the disclaimer when we log on each morning. 

[Nixon]

The messages do not disappear for the purposes of public records. Then Nancy Frathjord explains that if you delete a message in Teams, it disappears from the visible chat, the one you can see when you're working in it, but it remains in the background, right? When chats are pulled, the message appears showing that it was deleted and edited messages show revisions and notations. 

[AI VO]

She then adds, As of today, Governor Ferguson has not lifted the forever retention on Team chats. 

[Nixon]

So by March, 2026, right? This is 13 months, over a year after Ferguson's suspension of the policy. The Department of Licensing is still having to clarify that deleting Teams messages does not make them disappear for public records purposes. 

You could not script this shit any better. This story has come full fucking circle. The February, 2025 chat survived because the digital shredder stopped just in time. 

By summer, DOL staff were talking about double deleting, delete soon folders, jabber-like transitory tools, video meetings to avoid creating records. By fall, they were reacting to public records requests as harassment. By November, management was warning them not to use personal phones. 

By March 26, someone still had to explain that deleted Teams messages are still visible in the public records poll. This is the culture. Auto-deletion created. 

This is the culture a lack of leadership creates. And this is why public records laws cannot rely on vibes or good intentions or the honor system. The honor system works great right up until someone names a folder do not release for public records requests. 

The public records staff at DOL are not the villains here. They did not create the ugly chats. They did not tell hearing examiners to mock petitioners or make Will Jacobson joke about hitting an attorney with a car. 

They did not make anyone put private information into government systems. They did not create the records. They found, processed, and disclosed them, which is their job. 

If the records made DOL's administrative law office uncomfortable, that discomfort belongs to the people who created the records, the leaders in DOL, the AG's office, the Gov's office, and the legislature who have all pitched in creating this culture. Not the record staff, not the requesters, not the reporters, not the public, and certainly not the people who appeared before DOL and had no idea that their hearings, their language needs, their legal arguments, other private circumstances might become fodder for a group of judges holding their livelihoods in their hands. This whole thing is a miniature version of the statewide auto deletion scandal and further evidence of a culture of infecting Washington's government. 

First, public officials use the platform they believe is temporary. These people thought that this chat was going to be destroyed. Nobody would find out. 

So that made it okay, right? But then the platform preserves something embarrassing. Instead of reacting with humility, the agency reacts with hostility towards disclosure. 

Management starts looking for workarounds, the press starts asking questions, and the official answer tries to shrink the whole thing into a tidy misunderstanding about privacy. The records, however, refused to abide to that tidiness, didn't they? See, the Public Records Act is not about helping government look good. 

It is about helping the public see what government actually did. Sometimes that means revealing corruption, incompetence, and or, in this case, arrogance. Sometimes it reveals a workplace culture where people with power over the public forget the public is real and is watching and at the end are the customers and the constituents. 

And sometimes it reveals that the person everyone blamed, the annoying requesters, the reporters, the records officers, was the only reason the truth even survived. So here's the takeaway, DOL. You do not get to treat the Public Records Act like an ambush. 

You do not get to treat record staff like traitors and peasant class employees for producing records the public has a right to inspect. You do not get to put do not release for public records requests on a folder and consider that compliance and that we're all good. You do not get to use privacy as a shield for avoidance. 

You do not get to ask for disappearing tools because the last disappearing tool stopped doing the disappearing that you liked. And if you're hearing examiners, judges, cannot discuss the public's business in writing without creating records they are embarrassed to release, the solution is not fewer records. The solution is better conduct. 

The public record did its job. It showed us the chat, the freak out, the hunt for a workaround, and now it shows us something else. When the digital shredder stopped, DOL did not just lose a deletion policy. 

It lost plausible deniability.  

[AI VO]

That's it for this episode of the Public Records Officer podcast. A quick note before you go, some of the voices you heard on the show weren't from real people. 

Some were totally synthetic, AI generated to read from public records and legal depositions that are public. You'll also hear real human voices like live audio from state meetings and the occasional passionate rant from the show's gorgeous host. Every episode has a full transcript at thepublicrecordsofficer.com. 

It breaks down which clips came from humans and which came from our robot friends. Think of it like liner notes for digital democracy. You'll also find links to the original documents and recordings we talked about, hosted on Google Drive, free and public. 

So if you want to fact check us, go nuts. That's kind of the point. If this show got you fired up or even just mildly interested, check out the Washington Coalition for Open Government. 

They're a non-profit that fights for transparency and they've got resources if you want to help or just learn more. And hey, if you work for the state and you've seen one too many messages accidentally disappear, we'd love to hear from you, confidentially, unless you want to be famous. The Public Records Officer podcast is a creation of Nixon and Daughter Productions, powered by good coffee, better whiskey, a microphone, a legal tab, and the apparent misguided belief that government should actually be accountable to people, which is adorable, really.

Thanks for listening. See you next time. And remember, you're not paranoid. 

They really did delete it.