Today is the 157th anniversary of the signing of the False Claims Act, also called the “Lincoln Law.” This law imposes liability on persons and companies (typically federal contractors) who defraud governmental programs. It is the federal government’s primary litigation tool in combating fraud against the government.
It was not written to be used as a political weapon but to keep our government safe, and it is very important that it be used correctly.
I have been through the process as a federal whistleblower. I saw something illegal going on that also happened to be damaging U.S. national security. I attempted to address the situation by going through channels within the company where I was employed, but I found this was not possible. And so after exhausting all other options, I filed a formal whistleblower complaint.
Once I had filed my case, I was instructed that I couldn’t talk about the case unless called by the U.S. government to testify. I was also told that my name and the existence of my allegation were under seal but that at some point, that would change. Twice after my initial filing of the complaint, the United States requested that I come in and answer questions and explain the evidence they had gathered, which I did. Then, when the government became convinced that I was telling the truth and that they could prove it, and that I was the closest witness to the situation, they took over the prosecution of my case. At this point, they lifted the seal and revealed my name.
Yes, read that again — “was the closest to the situation.” I was not just telling them something I had heard from somebody. And yes, as a whistleblower, my name was revealed. Why? Because this is America, and every person has the right to face his or her accuser. One might even dare to say this of the president.
In hindsight, my own experience seems quite different from that of the unknown whistleblower whose allegations led to impeachment, and who still enjoys anonymity. In my opinion, his name should have been revealed, as mine was, the moment it became clear to the House that impeachment was a necessary course of action.
As I learned firsthand, a whistleblower has protections. Anonymity usually isn’t one of them. After all, the Sixth Amendment to the Constitution provides that anyone accused of a criminal act has the right to confront his accuser and to cross-examine him. In America, we don’t prosecute with anonymous accusations, at least not until the recently concluded impeachment proceedings.
If this sort of thing is allowed to stand, it could set a dangerous precedent that all Americans should fear. Imagine receiving a notice in the mail that you were accused of a crime and must defend yourself without ever being told who is accusing you. After all, the identity of the accuser can completely change the validity of any charge against any person. The identity of the accuser can open a whole can of worms that the prosecutor has to then work through, and rightly so.
Impeachment failed to remove President Trump from office, but it sets a terrible precedent for figures such as Democratic New York Sen. Chuck Schumer and Chief Justice John Roberts to behave as if whistleblower anonymity is somehow sacrosanct. I’ve been there, and it isn’t.
Blake Percival, a federal whistleblower who in 2011 exposed his company’s large-scale fraud against the government, is the author of Holding on to Integrity and Paying the Price: A Whistleblower’s Story.
