“He gets paid to abide by and to enforce the law.” — Assistant Attorney General James J. Wells (Wilford Brimley), Absence of Malice, 1981

I’m not trying to sound blasphemous, but whenever Wilford Brimley lays down the law, it’s like a voice coming straight out of a burning bush.  In the part of Absence of Malice where he uses that title line up above, he makes it abundantly clear to everyone in the room that the rather sheepish looking FBI Special Agent slumped in a chair made a decidedly and disreputably off-label use of his authority.  That was fiction.  Unfortunately, I have a story about a real FBI agent who had “some peculiar ideas on how to do his job” (Absence of Malice, 1981). 

About four years ago I happened to come across some information about a very serious federal crime that was in the works and would take place domestically.  So the very next day I attempted to do my civic duty by passing the information to an FBI Special Agent whom I knew socially and had no reason to believe would not faithfully execute the duties of his office.  I did so personally, face to face.  The odd thing was that after listening to my initially generalized summation that did not even include where in the country the crime would take place, he did not ask any follow-up questions and insisted on contacting me first thing Monday morning to discuss it further.  I tried to give more specific details, but he would not take down any of the information.  That call never came – not Monday morning, afternoon, evening, or ever.

Now, for those of you who have seen this scene because you’ve seen too many movies, I know what you might be thinking.  Was I telling this agent stuff he already knew?  Did I stumble onto an official investigation, and was I unwittingly informing on the activities of undercover federal agents who were close to busting the bad guys?  Sadly, the answer is not very likely.  The way things would actually work under such a hypothesis is that the agent would have to take steps to ensure as best he could that the person contacting him would not have an incentive to talk to others about the matter.  And in this instance the agent’s work would have been quite easy.  Being that I was not some street informant known to blab God knows what, God knows where, and at all times of the day or night, the agent would simply have needed to give me the impression that he was on top of things and would take care of the matter.  There was no need for him to reveal case details or even the existence of an investigation.  So what could possibly explain his inaction, and why am I suddenly going against the omerta normally ascribed to mission-oriented folks like myself?  Don’t worry, I’m getting to that.

First, let’s talk about what has changed over at the Dolomite Palace.  I’ve been watching and reading the news since I was in Kindergarten, and I distinctly remember a Bureau composed of highly motivated, rock-ribbed, patriotic Americans who would sacrifice life and limb to fight and defeat organized crime, run down communist spies, apprehend corrupt politicians, and root out domestic terrorist groups such as the Weather Underground, Black Panthers, and KKK.  The good news is that there are still folks like that in the FBI.  The bad news is that they have been thrown into very stiff and unfair competition for promotion with certain new kids on the block who are willing to do the idealistic bidding of their politicized higher-ups.  And the aforementioned higher-ups, e.g., Comey, McCabe, Strzok, Page, and many others at all levels of management, march to the beat of a radical agenda that seems to include the overthrow of our own government instead of their traditional job of guarding against it.

So which of the two categories does our unreliable g-man fall into?  You guessed it: he’s one of the new breed who have infiltrated the ranks throughout the administrations of Clinton (who “loathed” law enforcement and military), G.W. Bush (who was not much more than a caretaker), and Obama (who loathed law enforcement and military even more than Slick Willie).  People like our boy view themselves less like their predecessors and more like the self-obsessed radical geniuses their predecessors used to arrest.  They know more than us.  We’re stupid.  We don’t get it. 

But you want to know how such an in depth analysis can be arrived at just from seeing someone bungle a good tip, and I don’t blame you.  The answer is that through his inaction he exuded the common denominator – that noxious vibe – defining the rest of the ideologues who have infected the Bureau: arrogance.  Shear arrogance explains brushing off a tip that could save lives, especially when it seems like the person doing it felt they were meant for more important things.  And that arrogance has been bred into select members of the lower echelon by a deep state cabal in the upper echelon that has been placed and cultivated by some not-so-great presidents.  Or, as mentioned earlier, there was even a president who just didn’t care what ended up in the hen house.  And now the little foxes have a cult-like faith that the big foxes will have their backs no matter what they do or don’t do while they’re on the clock.

This agent who failed in his most basic duty might not have been involved in trying to fix a presidential election, though had he been offered the opportunity to do the leg work for the higher-ups who were, he probably would have considered it a legitimate form of career advancement.  That is why the FBI must be rid of anyone who does not fully understand that their “job is to abide by and enforce the law.”  This means that a correction is in order.  The body will live if we have the fortitude to insert the heavy gauge needle that will deliver the antibiotics to kill the infection.  And that is why I have broken my silence.  Our country is going to need the FBI more than ever in the coming years.  Things are getting very nasty out there, and we need to get the Bureau’s ship in order and swung around to its original course.  We, the people, deserve to have them regain our confidence. 

Now for the happy ending.  Sorry to keep you in suspense.  As related earlier, the agent did not contact me that Monday.  Naturally, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed that he was busy with a demanding workload.  However, as the week dragged on, I got a bit concerned when he did not call or show up.  The window of opportunity was really getting stretched.  So as I have never been one to stand by while the bad guys slip the noose, I went to plan B (take some advice, always have a backup plan).  I did something that I thought would have a higher potential for success than calling the Bureau and possibly getting another one of the new breed on the phone.  I went to a Deputy U.S. Marshal who happened to be the volunteer baseball coach for my son’s playground team and told him what I knew.  He was very interested in every detail I provided, asked a number of follow-up questions, and said that he would get the information to the right people right away.  Subsequently, I ran across him a few months later at the playground, and he said that the information worked out “very well” and that the folks he gave it to were grateful.  So score one for the highly engaged folks at the United States Marshals Service.

P.S.  Over the years a disproportionately higher volume of criticism has been thrown at the really smart and intrepid folks over at CIA than anyone at the FBI has ever had to endure.  And the vast, vast majority of it is baseless.  Unfortunately, certain crusading politicians have made it their favorite target because they know that Langley cannot publicly defend itself against false allegations without revealing many of the good secrets that keep our country safe.  This creates a vicious circle that the unscrupulous have no qualms about fueling but one that is wholly undeserved by those at CIA, many of whom get only a plain 2 1/4 X 2 1/4 inch star on the wall when they have had a bad day at work.