“The prosecutor’s discretion is tremendous. He can have citizens investigated and... indict, held for trial. While the prosecutor at his best is one of the most beneficent forces in our society, when he acts from malice... he is one of the worst.”

That warning from a bygone era still rings true today, perhaps louder in a political climate that treats prosecutorial choices as both cudgel and cudgel-brandish. The power to decide who gets charged, what they’re charged with, and how harshly they’re punished sits at the intersection of law, policy, and politics. When that power tilts toward factional calculation, justice stops being a shield for the citizen and starts looking more like a weapon of convenience for the powerful.

The ongoing discussion we’re having—whether in headlines, in committee rooms, or around kitchen tables—revolves around two core questions: first, how do we protect the independence of prosecutors from political direction? and second, how do we ensure that the pursuit of truth remains the raison d’être of the office, not the amplification of a political narrative?

A recent and troubling example: a case study in prosecutorial independence—or the lack thereof

The article you’re reading presents a scenario that feels all too familiar in Washington’s current climate: a presidential administration, seeking a political signal, changes the lead assistant U.S. Attorney in a district to pursue a high-profile target. The target, in this case, is a former FBI Director, with an entire timeline of sensational headlines attached to his name. The indictment strategy, the timing, and the level of intervention described point toward a prosecutorial process that appears more engineered than earned.

The new U.S. attorney, often described as newly installed and lacking prosecutorial experience, reportedly moved swiftly to convene a grand jury for an indictment after predecessor endorsed a different prosecutorial path. That sequence—appointment, rapid indictment, and public framing by political actors—offers a textbook case study in how political leverage can intrude upon prosecutorial discretion.

The target here is James Comey, charged with lying during a 2020 Senate oversight hearing. The government’s theory hinges not on a single, crystal-clear false statement, but on a more ambiguous construct: whether Comey “authorized” an FBI official to act as an anonymous source. The indictment relies on testimony from 2020 that refers back to statements from 2017, and it attempts to project a “corrupt” intent onto a complex sequence of media interactions, internal memos, and public statements.

What’s legally murky here—and why it matters

A core principle of indictment practice is clarity. The Federal Rules require a plain, concise, and definite statement of the essential facts constituting the offense. In Comey’s case, several red flags emerge:

• Indictments require a precise description of the alleged lie or misstatement and evidence showing the defendant knew it was false. The language in this case appears vague about what specific statement constitutes the alleged falsehood, or whether Comey’s intent to mislead a committee can be proven beyond a reasonable doubt.
• Double-checking the timing is critical. The government passed from 2017 testimony to a 2020 relevance claim, which stretches the five-year window for potential liability and invites questions about the sufficiency of the underlying facts.
• Interpretation of terms like “authorize,” and what qualifies as an “anonymous source” can be contested. If the defense can demonstrate that the term was used differently by Comey and others, the government’s theory may fail at trial.
• Grand jury dynamics matter. Reports suggest a narrow 14-12 vote in favor of indictment on two counts, with a third count rejected. A slim margin invites a closer look at whether the jury truly found probable cause in a manner consistent with the grand jury standard and whether a broader consensus would have been achievable with more precision and additional disclosures.

These features—ambiguous allegations, shifting timelines, and a rushed political timetable—aren’t mere procedural quibbles. They strike at the heart of whether the prosecution’s power was exercised with the kind of diligence and restraint Robert Jackson championed, or whether it drifted toward a zeal that undermines public trust.

Grand jury dynamics and the ethics of indictment

The grand jury is often described as the “secret gate” to the charging phase: it’s supposed to be a check on the government, not a rubber stamp for a preferred political outcome. The secrecy is meant to shield jurors and witnesses from reprisal and to protect the integrity of the process. But secrecy can also shelter flawed charging decisions from public scrutiny, particularly when the case carries high political heat.

In this case, the article notes that there was some degree of division among jurors, and the absence of universal consensus is unusual. The defense will rightly scrutinize the government’s ability to prove every element beyond a reasonable doubt. If the record suggests a fragility in the government’s evidentiary foundation, jurors may be justified in harboring reasonable doubt—an essential check against the slide from “indict” to “convict.”

What the episode reveals about institutional incentives

The broader takeaway is not just about one indictment, but about how institutions respond under political pressure. The Justice Department’s institutional memory— Watergate-era reforms, post-Watergate norms, and a general culture of trying to insulate prosecutorial decisions from the glare of the moment—has evolved into a living test of whether those norms are durable or merely aspirational.

When a presidency openly calls for a prosecutor to “get it done,” the risk isn’t simply a misstep in a single case. It’s a signal to every prosecutor in the country that politics can whisper into the file room, steeple the charge, and tilt outcomes with the weight of executive encouragement. That is not how Jackson imagined the citizen’s safety to be protected.

Reforms to strengthen independence, accountability, and public trust

A robust democracy requires not just strong prosecutors, but strong guardrails around prosecutorial power. Here are reforms I’d advocate for—practical, feasible, and designed to harden the line between the pursuit of truth and the pursuit of political victory:

1. Independent appointment and tenure tracks for federal prosecutors. Create a bipartisan framework for appointing and renewing U.S. Attorneys and key senior staff, with transparent performance reviews and clear, objective criteria for removal except for cause.
2. Explicit prohibitions on political interference in case decisions. Mandate documented, non-discretionary consultations for politically sensitive cases, with rapid, independent review when political considerations are alleged or suspected.
3. Transparent charging decision processes. Require public-facing summaries of charging rationales after final disposition, with redacted sensitive information to protect witnesses and ongoing investigations.
4. Strengthened grand jury protections and transparency tools. Improve record-keeping of grand jury proceedings (while preserving core secrecy), and provide secure avenues for defense challenges to indictment sufficiency, including clear “bill of particulars” standards.
5. Independent ethics oversight for the DOJ. An internal or quasi-independent inspector general track focused on prosecutorial ethics, reporting directly to Congress on structural failures and rule violations, not merely internal discipline.
6. Public interest balancing measures. Establish an explicit, rigorously applied standard to ensure indictments align with gravity of the offense and likelihood of conviction, not extraneous political signaling.
7. Whistleblower and protection pathways for prosecutors. Safeguards so career prosecutors can report inappropriate political pressure without fear of retaliation.
8. Training and cultural reforms. Emphasize Jackson’s ideal of tempering zeal with human kindness, truth-seeking over victimhood, and dedication to law over faction.
9. Judicial checkpoints for high-profile cases. Expand the use of independent review panels or special masters for the most politically charged prosecutions where reasonable doubts about independence exist.
10. Public comms guidelines for prosecutors. Clear rules about public statements that could affect ongoing investigations, with penalties for breaches that compromise fairness or safety.

A cautious path forward

The vitality of our republic rests not on zeal in pursuit of a political objective, but on fidelity to the rule of law. The Comey case—whether you view it as a crucial test of accountability or a cautionary tale of presidential overreach—illustrates how quickly the line between principled prosecution and political theater can blur. If we’re serious about reform, we must build guardrails that endure beyond any one administration’s tenure and protect the citizen from the risks of prosecutorial zeal unmoored from the facts and the law.

As a society, we should demand that prosecutors be seen—by both political actors and the public—as custodians of equal justice, not instruments of advantage. That demands the patient, sometimes tedious work of reform: better appointment processes, clearer standards, stronger oversight, and a culture that foregrounds truth over victory.

A closing reflection: the Jackson ideal in a noisy era

If we heed Robert Jackson’s admonition—to temper zeal with human kindness, to seek truth and not victims, to serve the law and not factional purposes—we’ll be taking a crucial step toward restoring public faith in the justice system. Our system is not perfectly fair, but it can be better. It should be governed by evidence, not expediency; by the rule of law, not the rule of headlines.

A concise, practical takeaway

The power of the prosecutor is formidable, but with that power comes responsibility. Independence, transparency, and accountability are not luxuries; they are the prerequisites for legitimacy in a democracy. If we keep faith with those principles, we can weather political storms without surrendering the very mechanism that protects freedom.