Show Notes
The decay didn’t start with the election. The realization the Bureau was too fragile to survive started in the quiet, persistent failures of earlier years. By Election Day 2024, the writing was on the wall. FBI leadership had already surrendered. My initial reaction to "The Fork in the Road" email was visceral. When the email arrived, I hesitated. Twenty years of public service—thirteen as an FBI intelligence analyst—is no small thing to throw away. As my colleagues speculated over the legitimacy of the buyout and the institution crumbled around us, I recalled a friend's departing words from years earlier. They felt like they could do more for the FBI’s mission by not working there. I finally understood. Jill and I looked at our savings, and I weighed the moral cost of staying. Two weeks later and just hours before a federal judge brought the first deferred resignation period to a halt, I walked into a meeting with the head of the Los Angeles Field Office and told him I was leaving. I was hoping for a reason to stay but expecting nothing. I lacked faith in his ability to guide us through the darkness ahead. He sat there quiet and meaningless; a shape without form. Disinterested, unaware, and seemingly unbothered by the storm raging outside his door. He asked for more time; a gesture without motion. I left his office, returned to my desk, and replied ‘resign.’ Four months later, I watched the news in horror as FBI Police placed United States Senator Alex Padilla in handcuffs just down the hall from where we’d met. Senator Padilla was detained for having the audacity to ask a question during a press conference in the FBI Los Angeles Field Office's Luis Flores Conference Room. At the head of the room, the same hollow man who had failed me months earlier stood by silent, a paralyzed force, headpiece filled with straw, leaning together among the rest of the hollow men. His silence was deafening; the irony suffocating. Luis Flores was a Salvadoran immigrant who grew up in a tough Chicago neighborhood, earned a law degree, and became an FBI agent at 26. The room was named to honor his memory. Yet, in that very room, the memory of Luis Flores was desecrated. For the first time in years, I have my voice. I, too, can do more for the FBI's mission from the outside. In a year when over 300,000 employees left federal service, hosting this podcast can feel a bit like The Star Thrower—tossing one sea star at a time amidst the wreckage and debris of life. Yet, there's solace in knowing we’re taking an active role in our strained democracy rather than idly watching its destruction. Maybe we’ll even inspire a few more throwers to join us at the foot of the receding rainbow. We’re also building Ravenwood Intelligence Cooperative where intelligence services are democratized, owned by the members, and driven by ethics and civic virtue rather than shareholders or political agendas. Two distinct paths diverged at the "Fork in the Road." One—a sunlit path crowded with hollow men—laid out clearly what would be expected, and the reward granted the compliant traveler. The other, vacant, bent into the undergrowth of uncertainty. I knew there would be no turning back. That was fine by me. I took the one less traveled. I’m tired of merely watching the destruction. It’s time to build something new. You can connect with Philip on LinkedIn.
Learn more about this episode on our website. If you enjoy Forking Off with us, consider supporting us on Ko-fi, and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Bluesky, LinkedIn, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts. ---------- The views expressed in this episode are solely those of the individuals providing them and do not necessarily represent the views of the FBI, the DOJ, the United States, or any past or current employers.
More from Forking Off
Jeremy Boss found his way to the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency (NGA) almost by accident. After getting a master's degree in international relations, Jeremy sought out positions in the intelligence community with a desire to serve his country. After hearing about an NGA hiring event, Jeremy quickly researched the agency and submitted an application the day before event registration closed—and he got hired. Jeremy spent nearly fourteen years as a geospatial intelligence analyst fusing imagery with all-source intelligence to provide policymakers with ground truth.
Stacey Young spent over 18 years at the Justice Department as an attorney; first in the Civil Division for 13 years, then in the Civil Rights Division for 5 more. Having founded the Gender Equality Network to make DOJ a better place for its employees in 2016, Stacey knew going into 2025 that DOJ employees would need support from outside. Shortly after inauguration, she resigned from her role at the Department to build Justice Connection—the direct support group DOJ employees needed. Stacey didn't need a crystal ball to know that DOJ employees would be targeted by the new administration: they said it out loud. Within the federal government, only DOJ had investigated the President for his previous unlawful actions, which made the need for Justice Connection obvious. Stacey issued her call to action as a guest essay in The New York Times, where she encouraged the public to support DOJ employees in their effort to keep the department on track. Later that month, Stacey answered the call.
Growing up in a small town in rural Northern California, Danielle Carnes longed to travel the world and make it a better place. She remembers visiting her grandma's house and seeing an old 1970s world map on the wall with pins showing all the places her grandfather had visited for work. She imagined traveling to new places and wondered about the different people she might meet.
Jeffrey Sizemore spent over two decades serving the United States, first as a U.S. Navy Surface Warfare Officer and later as a civil servant at the State Department. As the Senior Advisor on Atrocity Prevention and Deputy Director in the Office of Security and Human Rights, Jeff helped operationalize the Elie Wiesel Genocide and Atrocities Prevention Act. He built comprehensive curriculums and traveled globally to train foreign service officers on how to mitigate the risks of mass violence, identify warning signs, and understand what post-conflict justice looks like.
Michael Duffin served as a senior policy advisor at the State Department's Bureau of Counterterrorism for 12 years. When he received an invite for a 15-minute meeting titled "Update on the Reorganization," he never suspected it would mark an early end to his career. Michael helped stand up the Office of Countering Violent Extremism (CT/CVE), which led the Department's international engagement and assistance efforts to prevent violent extremists and their supporters from radicalizing, recruiting, or inspiring acts of violence. His layoff was part of a wider 'Reduction-in-Force' that impacted 1,107 State Department employees.